#hey this is a funky shirt why is it so small

[8thparadox]

i do not CARE if the books say that the mithril shirt was made long ago as a commission for an elven prince. it's MY fic and I get to decide that thorin found a bunch of links that his mother was going to work on just before smaug came and when he's be ushered out of the treasury by bilbo or balin or whatever unlucky dwarf had pulled the short straw and been sent to suggest that mayby the king get some sleep.. or eat something… he goes back to his mother's old work room and carefully links the rings together (the ancient art of working with mithril all but lost to time, but Thorin remembers watching his mother when she started the project) and thinking totally normal thoughts about how he needs to protect bilbo from all possible harm.

[fairyofshampgyu]

☆ Not as Tough as You Look !

genre: smut, crack

paring: emo vinyl store worker ! beomgyu x vinyl collector ! reader

Warnings: sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, choking !!!! grinding, riding, creampie, handjob, hair pulling, nipple play, degrading, fucking in a record store but there’s no one there, beomgyu has his nipples pierced and a thigh tattoo hehe and also his eyebrow pierced bc why not he’d look so fine

Word count: 3.7k

With your crippling vinyl collection addiction, you ticked off yet another record store on your list with a sigh, making your way to the next using trusty google maps and a determined gaze.

So far, you hadn’t been able to find your favourite band, Red Jellyfish’s vinyl in any of the stores you’d been in and you’d made it your sole mission to check out every single record store in your city in hopes of finding it to add to your ever growing collection.

It wasn’t the most financially stable hobby, yes, what with some records being so unreasonably pricey these days. And yes, technically you could listen to the albums for free online anytime instead. But that defeated the purpose! They just wouldn’t get the satisfying feeling of owning a shelf of your own physical music and whenever you added more to it. Also, music just sounded so much better spinning around on a record player in your bedroom and adding to the nostalgic ambience and aesthetic. It simply made you content.

Obtaining Red Jellyfish currently, however, was serving as a difficult task. It was always the case with more obscure bands but it just made it more riveting trying to find vinyls for them.

You arrived at the next, walking in and the arrays of endless records welcoming you, the place had a funky 70s vibe to it and was decorated as so with a cool layout. You noticed a listening booth, unusual to have in most record shops nowadays and this one was also unusually large, serving more as a separate small room with a record player and sofas so customers could have a listen. You loved listening booths and this definitely was a very cool record store. You’d be coming in again for sure.

Your thoughts are quickly dissipated, however, at the sight of the very cute worker stood behind the counter. You stop in your tracks and find yourself unable to look away, the purpose of why you actually came in the first place long forgotten.

He was unbelievably attractive with a long, shaggy wolfcut and bangs that half covered his eyes, adorned with an eyebrow piercing that added to his emo-esque look, sporting an oversized band shirt and baggy jeans and he had the most prettily sculpted features ever. The bottom of his soft brown eyes underlined ever so slightly with black eyeliner making his gaze rather intimidating.

“Hey, do you need any help?”

That snaps you back from your reverie and you jolt, unsure how long you were just weirdly observing him.

“Huh? Oh…no. Just looking….” Wow, even his voice was really nice.

He raises his pierced eyebrow at that and a knowing smile breaks onto his face. “Yeah? At what exactly? Vinyls or someone?” He bursts into laughter then and you feel your cheeks heat up, cocky and confident waves radiating off of him. Oh, he knew he was hot.

“W-what? No!” You scoff and clear your throat, embarrassed.

He chuckles still and beams at you, brushing his bangs away from his face with his hands, rings scattered on some of his fingers. God, even his hands were attractive. “Uh huh. But seriously, Would you like any assistance? It is my job after all.”

“Well actually,” You clear your throat and straighten your posture, attempting to play it cool and forget, you were still on a mission, you must not get side tracked by pretty boys. “you wouldn’t happen to have the band Red Jellyfish would you?”

His eyes light up almost immediately, “No way! I love Red Jellyfish. I’ve never come across another fan before! And we certainly do.” He grins and disappears into the back, soon arriving with the vinyl in hand and excitedly handing it to you, “They’re finally coming out with a second album after years. I’m so excited!”

“Same. I didn’t think they’d ever end up making music again after how long their hiatus was.” You enthusiastically agree, happy to find someone who also shared a liking for the band.

“Wouldn’t really take you to listen to emo music to be honest...” The cute emo boy looks you up and down, referring to your not so dark and edgy outfit and he’s grinning again.

“Yeah well, I guess you could say I have a pretty eclectic music taste.” You shrug, rolling your eyes jokingly at him. “Although I'm not really well versed on emo music besides that.”

You notice his big brown eyes beam even more with excitement, beginning to talk animatedly. “You should definitely listen to more. It’s great and it has a lot of range and sub genres and there’s some really good bands and! And-“ He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and stops himself, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, you just want to pay for your album and go.” He smiles apologetically at you and presses buttons on the cash register instead to calculate the price for you.

You shake your head and laugh, finding it more so endearing. "No. In fact, you’ve convinced me. I’ll definitely get into it more and listen to some bands. I wouldn’t know where to start though.” You’d let him talk your ear off all day to be honest. He was super cute.

His eyes turn into little crescent moons at that as he smiles broadly and you can’t help swooning internally once again. “Ooh I definitely have to give you some recs and make you a playlist! What’s your number?”

That’s how you find yourself squealing after leaving the store and not only managing to obtain the album you’d been extensively searching for, but also the very, very hot emo boy worker’s number. You’ll be telling your friend Soobin for sure all about it.

The emo boy indeed had a name, you'd discovered after exchanging numbers, Beomgyu, he’d told you. And you hadn’t been able to get the name out of your head ever since.

Him making a playlist for you didn’t really mean anything, he was just giving recommendations and being nice and friendly. But still, you’ll allow yourself to be a bit delusional about it. It was still a cute boy making a playlist for you! Even if it was pretty impersonal.

Later on into the night you receive a text that makes you giddy all over.

Hey, it’s Beomgyu ! We met earlier at the record shop. I made the playlist of emo recs already hehe :) let me know what u think ;)

Along with the text was a Spotify link to the playlist, spending your whole night just listening to it.

As you got to know the genre better. You appreciated it a lot more and found you actually liked a lot of the songs, particularly the more screamo ones. The screaming and whining itched your brain and you were fascinated how much vocal control they had to be able to scream yet sing at the same time. You make a mental note of all your favourites and decide to tell him in person, since it’d give an excuse to see him again.

You walk to the store the next day and you're glad to see him behind the counter and not someone else. “I listened to all the songs. They were really good.”

“Already?” He raises his brow in surprise to see you again, lopsided grin on his face and head tilted.

“Well…yeah?” You scratch your head. You don’t why you feel slightly embarrassed about that.

Beomgyu leans over the counter excitedly, “Which ones did you like?” Suddenly, a vinyl album comes full swinging at Beomgyu and smacks the back of his head hard. You stand, astonished. “Oww! What the fuck?” Beomgyu rubs his poor head in attempt to soothe it and turns around to the suspect.

"You better be working and not talking your ass off, Choi Beomgyu!!" His manger, yeonjun, you observe from his tag comes into view and stands with narrowed eyes at him.

“I’m taking a break!” Beomgyu waves with his hand, trying to shoo him away so he could continue his conversation with you.

“You just started your shift?!!”

“So! 9-5s are hard…” Beomgyu pouts and looks at you as if to back him up.

Yeonjun shakes his head, hand to his nose bridge, "You know I'd fire you right?"

"You wouldn't because you love me. And I’m your best friend." Beomgyu proudly smirks to him.

"Debatable..." Yeonjun sighs defeatedly and walks off to restock a shelf instead, beomgyu completely ignoring him and returning back to the conversation with you.

After that, you become close friends with the boy, frequenting the vinyl shop for records, but mostly an excuse just so you could converse with him. You seem to develop a music recommending relationship, sharing playlists and recommending each other songs and then giving your own opinions and reviews to each other.

To be honest, getting to hangout with beomgyu like that was the highlight of your days and you’d grown to like him a lot. He was fairly easy going and nice to talk to, even if the conversation fell short on your side given you weren’t that socially competent, he always managed to keep it going and you loved hearing his funny ramblings and stories he’d passionately go on about. You found a lot of what he did just so endearing.

He was also a massive flirt. And it seemed you weren’t the only person who noticed just how hot the boy behind the counter was as a lot of the times you were there, girls and boys were batting their eyelashes up at him and coming into the store just to flirt with him too. You didn’t blame them at all. He'd flirt with you from time to time as well but you tried not to dwell too much on it, figuring it was simply just his personality.

Even if you were just probably friends, you were happy to have gained a friendship either way. He brought colour into your usual mundane day to day living and you hadn’t made a new genuine friend in so long, something that was seemingly rarer the more you got into adulthood. And so, you just appreciated the friendship. Even if you had developed the teeniest crush on him. Well, probably more than that.

Soobin had been nagging you for days on end about wanting to see this beomgyu guy for himself you'd talk about and doubting that he was so fine like you say, that you end up giving in and deciding to drag him along to the record store with you as well one day.

Upon seeing you walk in, Beomgyu's eyes light up happily, resembling that of a puppy seeing their owner finally arriving back home and he smiles widely...then he sees the tall guy following in behind you and his demeanour suddenly changes, head tilted and frowning, lips more in a pout.

Once you walk up to the counter with a vinyl Soobin wanted, beomgyu stares coldly and cautiously for a rather strange time at the tall blonde innocently sipping on his boba tea besides you and eventually speaks up. "Is he like, your...boyfriend?"

Soobin splutters and chokes on his drink and both of you wave your hands in a frenzy, "No!"

"Oh!" And he's back to his usual cheery self, smiling contently, a bit unsettling to both you and soobin as you exchange a wary look. "Yeah. It’s good he isn’t…” Beomgyu stares back at soobin with a look of such distaste and disgust.

You leave the store after paying not without trying to reassure a grumbly Soobin who looked like he was about to throw hands any second. “What did he mean it's good he isn't?!” He mocks beomgyu’s voice and scoffs. “I feel offended! Is he saying I’d make a bad boyfriend?! He doesn’t like me? Well I don’t like him. Bitch.”

You sigh, patting your frowning friend on the back, not sure what else to say at the strange interaction.

Finally, the day Red Jellyfish’s new album drops arrives and although it took absolutely everything in you not to listen to it instantly, both you and beomgyu had promised each other you’d listen together in the listening booth after his shift. So the day seems to drag on and on as you anticipate and impatiently waited for the evening when beomgyu would at last finish.

You zoom to the store when it’s finally time, seeing him tidying and closing up. You sit down onto the vintage orange funky sofa in the listening booth as beomgyu placed the album into the record player before taking a seat next to you, both holding in your breath as the first track plays, and then swapping an excited glance with widened eyes to each other as soon as the guitar melody starts playing and the bass also comes in, both remaining silent as you enjoy the song and listen attentively to what was going on. It was already so sick.

Once it ends you both excitedly gush over the new song before the second tracks rolls on. It’s a lot slower and more dreamy and ambient. The guitar distorted and playing a pretty rolling arpeggio and giving off the genre of a more shoegaze piece.

You stare at beomgyu’s concentrated face and he stares back. He really is so gorgeous, the pretty song seemingly reflecting this as you can’t help but admire him. You can’t help it either when your eyes flicker to his seriously pretty rounded lips for a second, wondering what it’d feel like to have them pressed with yours…

It seems it doesn’t go unnoticed by beomgyu either as he shuffles even closer to you, his scent intoxicating you as he grins smugly, looking down at your own lips that has you malfunctioning. He tucks in a strand of your hair behind your ear, still gazing and corners of his mouth pulling up, smiling at you.

There’s this underlying tension and the album you’d been heavily anticipating for months, the last thing on your mind, dissolving into background noise as the only thing you can think of is beomgyu and how close he is to you. It’s hard to hold back anymore.

He inches closer and closer and he kisses you. Finally kisses you, and you melt into the kiss with him, making out fervently.

He pulls you into his lap, gripping your waist and tracing kisses on your neck instead that makes you gasp. “Couldn’t help it anymore…so pretty. Always make my day whenever you walk in.” Beomgyu whispers lowly, brushing his lips lightly against your ear which makes you shiver and the corners of his mouth curl into that stupid grin you’ve seen many times.

But then you decide to roll your hips against his and grind against his cock in his jeans and he falters instantly, mouth parting ‘o’ shaped and he whimpers high pitched, so unlike him. His ears and cheeks flush red and your movements stop. “S-shit sorry. Did I ruin it? That was really weird, fuck. Sorry.” Beomgyu averts your gaze, apologising profusely and embarrassed, bottom lip quivering slightly you notice. His whole demeanour changes. You’ve only ever seen beomgyu embarrassed a short handful of times, usually so sure of himself, but it only makes you go more crazy for him.

“Wanna act all tough but that’s all it takes and it’s all crumbling down, huh?” You grin, finding the boy and the way he’s shying underneath you suddenly so amusing. He still doesn’t make eye contact, cheeks even more impossibly red, “Look at me, baby.” You lift his chin up, seeing the way he reacts to the pet name, his eyes slightly widening.

“No. Don’t want to. Too embarrassed.” Beomgyu pouts cutely, you chuckle and coo at him, stroking his cheek which he leans into. You begin to grind against him again and take the lead in kissing him, his hands shaking and gripping your waist even tighter as he attempts to stifle his whimpers, eyes tightly shut. You kiss and suck down his neck as well, determined to leave hickeys in their wake. You’re surprised by how easily he submits to you. You like it a lot.

You pull the oversized band shirt he wears over his head and unzip his ripped jeans. The sight your met with however making you audibly gasp, his pink nipples prettily pierced through and the top of his plush thigh tattooed in a pattern of a heart and lines branching out like thorns. It makes you even more feral.

Gripping the pretty flesh of his tatted thigh, you begin to jerk off his cock which was flushed and leaking precum anyway as he waited for you to do something. He whines and moans into your ear as you pump your hand up and down on his length, head buried deep in your neck.

You can feel his heavy breaths and the drool on you and his whole body twitches and squirms when you place your free hand on one of his nipples instead, rolling the bud in your fingers and twisting which elicits a strangled moan out of him, clinging to you even tighter when you ruthlessly pump his cock, thumb toying with the slit on the head of dick and also still toying with his now puffy nipples. You can feel the drool dribble down your neck now. And you know he’ll cum any second, added ministrations on his pretty tits not helping him from restraining at all, so sensitive especially ever since he got them pierced.

“F-fuckk..hah..Please. Can I cum?” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with wet doe eyes. He’s so unexpectedly pliant in your hands, you’d give him anything if he looked up at you like that. And so you do, allowing him to cum, he whines loudly and squirts making a pretty mess, cum coating his tattoo on his thigh.

You’re not anywhere near done with him yet though and you hover over his dick, bringing the head to slide over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink completely down on his wet and sticky cock. Beomgyu throws his head back and groans, biting his lip hard at the feeling of his cock inside your warm pussy and you begin to slowly ride him, sucking in air loudly.

“Mmh fuck pull my hair too. It’s okay I like it rough-ah s-shit. Can take anything you give me” Beomgyu stutters and throws an arm over his head, eyebrows deeply furrowed.

So you tug and pull at the strands of his long hair and tangle and run your hands in his scalp, it makes him moan even louder, looking absolutely in bliss, you could tell just how much he liked his hair being pulled and pull with even more force, his eyes glazing up and mind all mushy and hazy now as you continued to fuck him and tug on his scalp. He looked so slutty and you can’t help telling him.

“Such a slut.” He just whines loudly in response. “You like being called a slut, huh? Wanna be my toy, my pet, my slut?

“Y-yeah-ah so good-holyy s-shit” He just nods vigorously, so dumbed out at this point, jaw hanging dumbly open. “W-wait squeeze my neck please.…”

You didn’t think beomgyu would be such a freak either.

“Are you sure, beomgyu?”

He strenuously nods and begs you. “Yeahh..need it please. I can take anything.” He gently takes your hand on his own and brings it to press down on his neck. He still stares at you with his big round brown eyes. It was honestly a confusing juxtaposition, the way he looked at you innocently whilst asking you to do something so obscene as choking him.

You squeeze his pretty neck either way and watch as he hisses and his face scrunches up gorgeously, veins in his neck popping out and grunting, you fuck him ruthlessly bouncing on his cock and the squelching so loud and clear and evident despite the music still playing on the record player.

You can’t help feeling possessive over him, finally having him beneath you, all yours to use, remembering all the girls that come in everyday to flirt with him and you get to have him all to yourself . Imagine the look on their faces if they could see beomgyu right now, your hands still lightly squeezing his neck and riding him. You kinda wish you could mark him all over.

“H-harder…choke me harder” Beomgyu gulps.

It makes your pace on his cock even faster and so rough and you press down on his neck ever harder. His jaw clenches, neck and face red and eyebrows furrowed. He gasps for air, letting out the prettiest loud and whiny breathy noises.

His breath hitches with every unrelenting bounce on his cock and he struggles to breathe, eyes heavy lidded and so fucked out, a distant look on his face, you press down just a little bit more on his neck and his eyes roll to back of his head, a long strangled high pitched moan coming out of him as he bucks his hips up and convulses, spurting heaps of his cum inside you and it brings you over the edge too. He can’t stop cumming it seems, shaking and endlessly panting and still squirting inside you as you basically milk him. You can see the red imprint of your hand on his pretty neck along with the numerous hickeys you left, it was definitely a sight to see.

It takes a while for beomgyu to recover from his high after how good you fucked him but he eventually speaks up, clinging to you. “Sooo, I got two tickets to see red jellyfish…Would you possibly want to go with me?” He grins and pants, biting his lip, still out of breath and bangs damp from sweat, pierced eyebrow raised and head tilted as he waited your answer.

You chuckle wrapping your arms around him tightly, kissing him again. “I’d love to.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: this is probably really messy bc I haven’t proof read. Writer’s block is actually so hard 😭😭

[hp-hcs]

dressing up as britney spears to tease ur bf? iconic.

• smut • baby one more time — mattheo riddle x femby/femboy! gn! reader

so like,, it’s gender neutral but not.

like, this is for pretty much anyone other than cis women so-

(y’all get every other x reader anyways so you’ll be fine)

warnings: SMUT MDNI, oral (reader receiving — no anatomical descriptors), ig oral fixation?, crossdressing kink(?), body worship, hand kink? is that a thing?

the ending is SO CHEESY but i kinda love it

smut ain’t really my thing, but some anon asked for this and the idea just GRIPPED me (apologies, anon, for losing your ask, i have absolutely no idea where it went) and i figured y'all might like it. enjoy, you funky lil allosexuals

requests open

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, babe? Enz is throwing this huge Halloween party thing tonight. You wanna come?”

You looked up from your textbook to meet the pleading eyes of your boyfriend and his best friend.

“Why do I have the sinking suspicion there’s a catch?” You asked dryly, ignoring Mattheo’s puppy dog eyes.

The two boys shared a look before Enzo hesitantly spoke up.

“It’s a costume party.”

You shrugged. “Okay?”

Enzo blinked in surprise. “Are you willing to dress up?”

“I’ll think about it.”

~~~

Woah.

Holy shit.

Y/n walked- no, strutted into the common room.

In shiny black platform mary janes.

And black over-the-knee stockings.

And a black pleated skirt.

And a white uniform shirt, almost entirely unbuttoned and tied at the bottom to raise the hemline into a crop top.

And a grey cardigan in an entirely useless attempt at modesty.

And eyeliner dear Merlin.

And a pink bow in their hair.

And a hot pink heart shaped lollipop in their mouth.

Mattheo’s cheeks burned as he cleared his throat and slid a finger under his tie to loosen it.

Shit.

~~~

Y/n scanned the crowd for their boyfriend, sucking on their lollipop absentmindedly.

They spotted him, face flushed and eyes wide, already staring at them from where he sat on the very edge of the common room couch.

They pulled the lollipop out of their mouth with a sly smirk, wiggling the fingers of their free hand in a teasing wave.

Popping the candy back into their mouth, Y/n sashayed over to their partner, wasting no time before plonking down in his lap, their legs on either side of his hips.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured around your sucker, fluttering your lashes.

Mattheo stared at you, completely slack-jawed. His face was as red as a Weasley’s hair, and his hands trembled when they came up to rest on your hips and keep you steady.

“Love your costume, babe,” you snicker, tugging gently on the collar of his Hawaiian shirt. “Ace Ventura?”

He blinks, startled out of his trance. “Huh? Oh- ye-yeah.”

You shoot him a flirtatious grin, smoothing your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

His grip tightened on your hips when you ran your fingers through the curls of hair at the nape of his neck, and his mouth remained hanging open.

You smirked again and pulled your sucker out of your mouth with audible pop! that made Mattheo’s ears burn red.

“Better close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies, sweetheart,” you tease, holding your lollipop out to his mouth.

His eyes widened as you basically shoved your lollipop into his mouth, his grip on your hips tightening as he suddenly dragged you closer on his lap.

“Baby, don’t tease,” he said lowly, moving the stick of the lollipop to the corner of his mouth and dragging his hands from your hips down to the tops of your thighs.

You had to close your eyes and breathe for a minute at the sensation, having to physically hold yourself back from jumping his bones right then and there.

“Babe…” Mattheo whispered, running his large hands over the fabric of your skirt in an infatuated manner.

Perched on his lap, despite being in the middle of a raucous party, neither one of you seemed to even register the presence of other people.

“Matty,” you breathed, your eyes tracking the small motion of the lollipop stick as it moved around Mattheo’s mouth. “Matty, your room.”

He all but shoved you off of his lap in his haste to stand up, quickly grabbing your hand and dragging you through the throng of people as he made a beeline for the dorms.

“Leaving so soon? But you just got here.”

“Sorry, Enz,” Mattheo responded breathlessly as his friend stepped in front of him, his grip on your hand tightening. “We need to go. See ya.”

Enzo nodded and stepped aside, shooting you a knowing smirk and snickering when you flushed as your boyfriend dragged you down the hall.

~~~

Mattheo pushed you up against his bedroom wall the second the door clicked shut. His tongue was in your mouth before you even had a chance to blink.

He kissed you like a man starved, cupping your jaw reverently as he pulled you closer.

You separated for air, expressions of surprise at the other’s reaction to the outfit evident on both of your faces.

“Babe,” Mattheo’s voice cracked with emotion, with lust, as he obsessively ran his hands over the expanse of your exposed midriff, his eyes trailing down your body. “Babe.”

“I take it you like the outfit.” You laugh breathlessly, cheeks flaming from all of the attention.

“Fuckin’ love, darlin’,” he groaned, shoving a knee between your thighs as he swooped in for another kiss. “Y’damn tease.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he bounced his leg. “Y-you love it.”

“I do,” he conceded, leaning in to nip at your neck and collarbone. “The fuckin’ lollipop, sweetheart? Damn near lost it.”

His lips were still sticky against your skin from the candy, and you could taste cherry on his lips as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

A breathy whine left your throat as he squeezed your ass, and your fingers tugged on his curls impatiently. “Matty-”

“Yeah. Yeah, I got you, love,” he murmured against your mouth.

He pushed you backwards onto his bed, climbing on top of you while steadfastly refusing to separate your lips.

You gasped into his mouth when he straddled you, sitting on your thighs dear Merlin, and ran his hands down the front of your chest. He finally pulled back from your mouth, his lips swollen and red and his eyes dilated with lust. His gaze slowly moved down from your eyes to your shirt, and his hands came up to undo the few buttons holding the front together.

His fingers practically trembled as he undid the knot at the base of your shirt, taking his time in pulling it off—like he was unwrapping a present that was all for himself.

When he finally got it off your shoulders, he reverently ghosted his fingers over your ribs. He spread his large hands around your torso as he held your sides.

“Merlin-” he breathed, leaning down to run his tongue up the center of your chest.

You squirmed under him at the foreign feeling as he littered your chest with soft kisses, running your fingers through his hair just to have something to do with your hands.

Mattheo slid down the bed, his hands gripping your thighs almost painfully tight. He obsessively ran his hands over the sheer black stockings you wore, marveling at the smooth texture underneath his fingers.

His hands traveled back up to the hem of your skirt, rubbing his thumbs over the soft fabric before flipping it up with no further preamble.

He let out a soft moan at the sight in front of him, and without hesitation, immediately buried his face between your legs.

Your hands flew to his hair as you let out a surprised gasp.

“Matty-”

He hummed in response, and you could just barely feel the corners of his mouth turn up in a sly smirk. His hands tightened on your knees, pulling your thighs apart gently to give himself more room.

If there was one thing Mattheo Riddle was good at, it was the utter magic he could do with his mouth.

His sneaky tongue pulled a move that made sparks of pleasure zing up your spine, your gasps and poorly-stifled moans only spurring him on further.

“Matty, please-”

His fingers slid under the edge of your stockings, pulling the elastic back and letting go—the material slapping back against your skin with a solid thwick.

That was all you needed before your eyes rolled back in your head and your thighs shook, the dam of pleasure finally bursting open and coursing through your body.

Your boyfriend rubbed your thighs as you finished, grinning like mad when he saw the state his actions had left you in.

Boneless and practically melting into the mattress, your chest heaved as you panted for air.

“You’re pretty,” Mattheo mumbled, his voice raspy and his chin smeared with spit as he looked down at you with a goofy smile.

You giggled at his debauched appearance. “You’re prettier.”

“Yeah? Shit, darlin’- think you could go for a round two? Help your pretty boyfriend out?”

You grinned, still trying to catch your breath. “…hit me baby one more time?”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

smut tag list — join by request ONLY

@jaythes1mp

[ashestoruin]

golden

summary: maybe he is a freak, but damn is he pretty.

warnings: 18+. no actual smut but strong allusions to. implied fem reader. maybe slighty ooc eddie? written on mobile so sorry if the format is a lil funky

notes: this is quite literally the first thing i have written in well over a year so bare with me, i might start off a little wooden lol. feedback is greatly appreciated!

Eddie was beautiful in the morning.

In fairness, in your opinion he was beautiful all of the time, but there was something about the orange hue of sunrise spilling through the trailer curtains and illuminating his features that boosted his beauty just that bit more.

He grunts softly as he shifts closer to you, his arm coming to rest over your stomach as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

A tired grin pulls at his lips as the slumber starts to fade, “Hi”.

“Hey, you.” You can’t help but smile back. His energy infectious despite your shared lethargy.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie’s face morphs into a smirk as you roll your eyes, “I had you up pretty late last night, sweetheart.”

You jut your chin towards him defiantly, “I feel fine.”

Eddie’s fingers begin to dance along your tummy, tapping and tracing delicate patterns until he reaches the waistband of your underwear.

“You sure?” He asks as he begins to fiddle with the fabric, failing miserably at suppressing his shit-eating grin, “You were definitely… worn out.”

Heat floods your cheeks at his insinuation. One more baby, give me one more. I know, darling, I know, just one more time for me. You’re so good, my best girl.

“No more so than you were, Munson.”

“You give as good as you get, baby.”

You hum as you take his wandering hand in your own, interlacing your fingers as you tuck yourself into his neck and pepper small kisses to any area you can reach.

It was a comfortable type of domesticity that you never would have expected when you first met Eddie. All bravado and leather jackets and that is not real music that he was. But when you finally let him in you realised he was more than that, passion and sincerity it was really drove him. He was unapologetic about who he was in a way that nobody else your age could compare to. It was addictive.

Eddie fidgeted beside you, “If you keep that up things are gonna get dirty real quick.”

You snorted as you moved to sit up, Eddie following with a small smile on his face.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Only for you.”

“I would hope so.”

His smile widens at your teasing as he leans in and kisses you slowly. Small pecks quickly building up in intensity. He was always greedy when it came to you.

“God, I love you.” he states dreamily, giving you no time to reply before he’s capturing your lips with his own once more.

Sharp knocks at the door startle you both from your embrace, “You two better be decent! Get moving or you’ll be late, I don’t want more calls from Higgins, Eddie!”

Eddie sighs dramatically, “Yeah, yeah. We’re going.”

You hear Wayne’s footsteps retreat as Eddie stumbles around his room for clothes, less than elegantly throwing a t-shirt your way.

“To be continued, sweetheart.” He wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls his jeans over his hips.

“Perv.”

He chuckles, eyes shamelessly raking over you as you dress.

It really was unfair how little effort he had to put in to look good. His hair still slightly astray from the lack of grooming, his clothes hugging his slender frame, face lit up in a smile whenever he caught your eye.

“You’re so pretty.” You blurt out.

He barks a short laugh, squinting in confusion, “I’m pretty?”

You nod eagerly, “The prettiest.”

He hums as he swaggers over to you, hands immediately grabbing at your hips and pulling you impossibly close.

“If I’m pretty than you are drop dead gorgeous. I’m batting way above my league here, sweetheart.”

You shake your head as you play with the ends of his hair, Eddie’s gaze never straying from your face, staring at you like you hung the moon in the sky.

“Why don’t we just stay home and you can have your way with me, since I’m so pretty and all?” He smirks.

You shake your head at him, fighting the grin threatening to spill across your face.

“Oh c’mon baby. Me, you, a joint, no clothes - It’ll be a blast!”

“As appealing as that sounds,” You giggle as Eddie starts nodding enthusiastically, “You have a grade to keep up so that we can finally leave this shithole, so I’ll have to pass.”

He lets out a theatrical groan, stepping away and starting to gather his stuff, “Fine, fine.”

“I’ll tell you what…” You bite your lip as Eddie’s whips around to look back at you, “You pass Ms O’Donnell’s class and I’ll do whatever you want. Anything at all.”

His borderline maniacal grin almost makes you regret your words. Almost.

“That a promise?”

You nod nervously, “Scout’s honour.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He whistles, still a dark tinge to his features, “We’re going to have so much fun.”

[melchinafan]

Hey wait, I should repost (and elaborate on) my observations and headcanons that I was posting on twitter while the Redfall account was posting promo videos leading up to launch. Leaving out the now-obvious theorizing and cult symbol recognition, it's mostly...no, uh, it's all just Devinder stuff, whoops. (His primary outfit still baffles me in some ways. Also, adding a few things I've noticed in-game so far.)

First, observations:

he's got sharply-square-toed calf-boots (in all his outfits, but especially the default) and I am thoroughly jealous perfect blend of practical with formal vibes, amazing shape without giving up the traction of a good rubber boot sole I NEED THEM

he has three stickers on the back of his phone (in the announcement trailer): one like his UK Cryptid Association patch, one that's a cartoony caped vampire with sunglasses, trying to hide from some bright flashes that says "NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY," and a round one with a simple eye that says "TRUTH SEEKER" along the top (and has a sentence around the bottom, but it's too small and blurry for me to make out, to my eternal lamentations)

his buttons are on the "wrong" side of his shirt when his collar is open (but with the attention to detail otherwise present from the devs, and the fact that they're like that in-game AND the announcement trailer, perhaps it was deliberate and they're magnetic buttons?)

he doesn't appear to be using belt loops in his hero trailer (though he definitely does in the Casual Hunter outfit, so they just probably weren't on that fancy model)

his standard belt is nylon with a quick-release buckle, which is also the buckle style on his backpacks (including the leather one)

his Dapper outfit has a nerdy leather shoulder harness with two pouches, one for his cell phone on his left side, and a paper journal with pen on the right (which would be hidden if he wore a jacket, but per the description of the outfit, "no jacket required")

while there are buckles on the front of said harness, there's also lobster-claw clasps on the back as an alternate release mechanism and very subtle pun

his primary outfit's gloves have a small gold fleur-de-lis printed on the end of the velcro strap, whereas his dapper outfit has driver's gloves with a snap strap

he has orange gloves(?) in his primary outfit, under his leather gloves, which are at least long enough to go well under his sleeves so no skin peeks out (what is this? why does he seem to have layered gloves? are they neat-colored compression gloves? or does he have ballroom-length gloves that match his silk scarf "a gift from [his] parents" awwww, so he can just doff the jacket and leather gloves at any time for a quick dapper look? presumably not, since he removes them for his casual outfit, but I just ??? truly baffling)

attended New College in Oxford doing the Philosophy, Politics, and Economics (PPE) course (which is apparently a 3-year thing), plus spending "the better part of a decade" cryptid-hunting...if we assume he started hunting after finishing his schooling, and that range being around 7-10 years, he's probably...somewhere between 28-31, maybe? could be younger if there's overlap between them, could be older if he didn't immediately dive directly into each thing

calls his viewers "Dev-iners" how cute is that I love it

seems to be titling his adventures in Redfall as "Delving Into Darkness"

clearly a Doctor Who fan (quotes include "allons-y!" after falling, and "don't blink" when he uses his Blacklight—and his first dapper suit being blue-and-brown could also be a subtle reference along with the fact that he has both a wristwatch and a pocketwatch as a potential "time lord" reference, unless that chain attaches to some other nerdy trinket)

he has written and recorded notes as the descriptions of two legendary weapons (that I've seen), as follows:

Clacker (electric pistol, blue and yellow funky little thing):

Hey Remi! I don't know where you found this thing, looks like it was assembled by an Elwetritsch after a 3 day bender. One of those cultists with more thumbs than sense, no doubt. But I pulled it apart and fixed up a few contacts so the chance of fatally shocking yourself is minimized (note my word choice). Now it's like a little cousin to my Javelin. You know, it's kind of cute now that I'm looking at it. -- D

Snipe Hunter (stake launcher, an unpainted version of what he had in the announcement trailer, with sharpie-scribbled notes in several places on it):

Crousley Tapes (Private) Cortana Suggested Title: "It's a cloudy day and I'm thinking of my mum" [VOICE REC BEGINS] "Note to self, something to file away for later. Whenever it turns foggy like this, like sodden grey cotton, I think of mum. When I was a kid she said that I had a big imagination. Unlike a lot of people, she meant it as a compliment. I saw things, things other people simply missed. But she told me to always trust myself. Sounds easy, but every day since then I've tried to live up to that." [VOICE REC ENDS]

Which leads to: headcanons!

he's the oldest in the group (because Jacob's timeline is fuzzier to me, and Jacob asking "your parents okay with these little field trips of yours?" in Dev's hero trailer is SO much funnier to me if Dev's the oldest)

has chronic pain in (at least) his hands (possibly from piano plus frequent fiddly tinkering, or just General Fuckery that happens for some folks regardless of age—and I assume it's mild to moderate/otherwise fluctuates, since he's clearly not slowing down with tinkering, and is capable of at least short tunes on piano)

specific reasoning/potential evidence for the above includes but is not necessarily limited to: possible compression gloves, quick-release buckles, maybe magnetic buttons, plus the clasps on the back of his nerdy dapper harness (they may be how he does easier release when he struggles with the buckles? assuming his other joints aren't borked, because they're behind him? I'm less clear on if they're actually practical though)

neurodivergent as all get-out (is this even a headcanon, it feels like it's been self-evident from the second he showed up, though the specifics are up to interpretation)

trans/nonbinary because why not, I'm already out here projecting, and he layers enough for the vibe, also "TRANSlocator" puns

bi? ace? monsterfucker? etc.? I don't know, I need to see if anything specific comes up in dialogue at all but he is just so very queer as is the whole cast it's great

he clearly used some research he did into the psychic Nests(/the dream-like Trance) to create his (literally-)dreamy Quantum Kerfuffle decoy (the final Translocator skill), because holy SHIT does that thing draw in every vampire within what I swear is the same radius a Nest covers, it's the most beautiful hazard on the entire island

[iliektehhaxs]

Sick Leave

Pairing: Adrian Chase x AFAB! Reader (Gender Neutral Pronouns)

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI

Word Count: 3.8k Words

Summary: You work far from home, and Adrian misses your touch, so he decides to do something about it.

Read on Ao3!

Warnings: Phone Sex (kind of), Switch!Adrian, Oral (fem receiving), praise and degradation kink, p in v actions, unprotected sex, hickeys/bruising, Fluff (if you squint), Absolutely filthy dirty talk

Author’s Note: Hey there! This is the first fic I’ve written in years, I quit but then this funky lil white boy named Adrian Chase managed to worm his way into my heart, so here I am. Resident Tumblr user @jangofctts inspired me to write again, so if you liked my fic go give her a shout-out and check out her masterlist! Again, I’m very rusty, so any critiques are welcome and gladly accepted, hopefully you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The last time you had to leave for work Adrian practically pounced on you the moment you walked through the door, you could barely even get a greeting out before you felt him pawing at anything he could touch.

Okay, to be fair, maybe you did video call your boyfriend and make him watch as you fingered yourself in your hotel room. And maybe you did tell him that he couldn’t touch himself until you got back as punishment for sending you nudes in the middle of your workday, but honestly he was being a tease and you were having none of it.

Besides, it did lead to some earth-shattering sex when you got back, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Adrian get naked that fast before.

Anyway as an apology you decided you need some nice de-stress time with your loving boyfriend, just you, him, and whatever movie was playing on T.V. You had the whole day planned out, you even made some snacks to enjoy when right before you grabbed the remote, lo and behold your boss decides that they need you back cross-country. Just when you were enjoying some much needed downtime, you had to go right back, and Adrian was not happy about it.

“Your boss is a dick of the highest caliber, and that's saying something.”

Well, he's not wrong.

“Maybe I should teach him a lesson.” he mused.

A heavy sigh leaves your body.

“No Adrian, you cannot kill my boss.” “Oh come on!” he grumbles out. “I wouldn’t kill him, I’m better than that. I’d just scare him a little, you can live without a finger-”

“Adrian.”

“Okay okay! Message received.” He rolls his eyes, but it only causes the both of you to laugh.

You were currently cuddling on the couch, Adrian wrapping his hands around your waist as some random action flick you put on plays in the background. You were trying to enjoy the little time you had left before you had to leave, but it was weighing on both of you as you mindlessly watched the poorly cgi’d explosions.

“I mean I don't get why he’s such a jerk, you do most of the work anyway.” You hum in agreement, often enough you end up running around your building picking up other workers slack, but you never have the guts to tell them to do it to themselves.

“Office jobs are like that honey, no one likes them but at least you get paid.” You end your sentence with a kiss to his shoulder, his head just a bit too high for you to reach.

The movie was interesting for the most part, but you could feel Adrian’s attention waning as he found you more interesting than the cheesy-one liners. He kept nosing at your neck, starting off with small kisses that grew into something more, each one longer than the last. You let him move your head to expose more as he slowly mouthed at the fading bruises he already left behind, his hands grazing across your body.

“Are you sure you need to go?” You can hear him breathe out as he kisses the base of your neck, causing your breath to hitch.

You can feel him smile into your shoulder as his hands make their way up your shirt. The way his mouth is moving across your skin makes you seriously consider telling your boss you can’t make it, but you have bills to pay. Not like Adrian’s making the choice any easier for you when you feel him grinding himself against your backside, a not-so subtle reminder of everything he has to offer you as long as you stay with him.

You fully turn yourself around to face him, hands on his shoulders as you straddle his lap. On instinct his hands make their home on your hips, fingers slowly running up and down your curves as his thumbs draw small circles across your body.

“You know I have to go baby.” You say as you kiss his nose.

“Yeah, but, you don’t actually HAVE to go y’know?” Somehow he keeps up his conversation while casually palming at your breasts. “Like I’m pretty sure there’s no law against telling your boss you have a super hot boyfriend at home who’s willing to eat you out until you cry.” You laugh at him, that goofy smile plastered across his face like he’s not 10 seconds away from doing exactly that.

“First of all, TMI, he’d probably fire me. Second of all-“ You gasp as you feel Adrian pinch one of your nipples. “-I’d only be gone for a few days. You can survive.” He apparently didn’t like that as he pinched your nipple again, albeit a bit harder.

“No I wouldn’t, I’d die, honest to god.” You’d be laughing if his hands against your chest weren’t so fucking divine.

“I’m so serious,” He managed to remove your shirt before he continued. “I have a disease, it’s chronic, and it can only be treated by you! You’re like, my super sexy nurse.” He’s rambling at this point, but he manages to lift you off his lap long enough to take your underwear off, the cool air across your soaking wet pussy causing shivers to run up your spine. Adrian notices it too, because within the blink of an eye you’re on your back and he’s firmly placed himself between your thighs, one hand at the back of your knee and the other holding you down by the hip.

“Hey, has anyone ever told you that you have the prettiest pussy ever?” He collects your wetness onto his fingers and brings them to his mouth, savoring the taste. “Tastes like heaven too.”

Your chest is heaving in anticipation, but you look down to see Adrian staring down at the mess you’ve made of yourself. You can feel yourself getting self-conscious and move to close your legs but he’s having none of it, forcing both of them apart in a split second.

“You should know better than to get in between what belongs to me.” He barely acknowledges the soft moan that leaves your lips. “Don’t be shy. Besides,” You feel his lips trace across your skin, “I like to see how much of a sloppy whore you get for me.”

Fuck, he’s going to be the death of you. How can someone so cute have the filthiest fucking mouth you’ve ever seen?

He kisses up your legs, once, twice, again and again as he makes his way up your thighs, so close yet so far. Your skin is on fire and he’s barely touched you yet. You can feel his breath, you hold his hair and try to grind up to his mouth but he has an iron grip on you. You know he wants you to agree with him and stay home, but damn it if you’re not stubborn.

“Adrian,” you slowly begin, “I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible-“ You can feel your back arch as he leaves a particularly hard bite on the inside of your thighs.

“Not soon enough. Plus, who else is gonna fuck you as good as I do while you’re gone? Hm?” You look down at him just as you can see his gaze drifting from your legs to something on the table. He’s oddly quiet, maybe too quiet. In your whole relationship quiet isn't a word you’d use to describe him. You follow his eyes and you immediately feel your heart drop.

You look back at him. “Adrian, no.” He’s clearly not listening to you anymore. “You should call your boss right now. I think it would be a good idea.” “Adrian, no!-” He’s faster than you, damn his reflexes, and by the time you reach your hand out he’s already halfway into your contacts searching for your boss’s number. You can tell he found it when you see his eyes light up with mischief.

“Adrian so help me god-” You can already hear it ring, and the universe is clearly laughing at you because the ONE time you don’t want your boss to pick up he somehow manages to do so in less than a second.

“I’m busy, what do you want?” God damn it.

“Hello sir, this won’t take up a lot of your time-” You throw a particularly heated glare towards Adrian, but any hate you have for him is soon lost when you feel his lips against your pussy.

“Hurry up, time is money, if you’re going to say something say it.” Pleasepleaseplease don’t find out.

You try to be as courteous as possible but words start escaping you when Adrian starts pressing his tongue against your clit. You think about trying to slap him away but you know he’d more than likely get turned on.

“Y-yes sir, well, I’m sick.” Very convincing.

“You’re sick?” You can almost hear the eye roll through the phone. “I’m sure you are. Is that it?”

Adrian slaps your thigh as his tongue moves faster against your heat. You know what he wants, a silent warning to hurry the hell up.

“Yes sir, I’m-” You barely have time to cover your mouth before a moan flies from your throat. “I’m very, very sick, I don’t-” Fucking hell Adrian if you keep doing that-

Your boss interrupts your shaky thoughts. “Are you trying to call out?”

“Yes!” You whine out to your boyfriend but soon remember who you’re supposed to be talking to and clear your throat.

“Yes I am sir, I have to-” You choke out a moan into your hand. “-call out, I can’t go, I’m sorry-” You are barely holding yourself together, it is taking every last inch of your willpower to not throw your phone across your room and fall apart right then and there. You sneak a look toward Adrian and he’s fucking smiling against your cunt.

“You sound tired, you must really be sick.” You’re slowly losing your vocabulary as you hum out a noise in agreement.

“Yeah” you stammer out, “have to g-go sleep, bye!”

“Wait, when are you coming back-”

You barely register his farewell as you end your call and slam your phone into the couch, fingers immediately taking purchase in Adrian’s soft brown hair. The moan he lets out moves through you as he somehow manages to push himself further into your heat, his fingers bruising the meat of your thighs. Your head is spinning, your lungs desperately take in any air as your legs slowly begin to shake.

“Baby please don’t stop, please let me come, make me come-” You cut yourself off as you cry out, his lips sucking on your clit and never letting go. Adrian’s just as desperate as you are, if not moreso. His face is slick with your arousal, every sound tumbling from your lips spurring him on as his mouth moves faster and faster against your pussy. You can feel every whine and moan he lets out into your skin as you rock your hips and use him for all he’s worth.

Your back arches off the couch, followed immediately by a tidal wave of pleasure washing over your body. You don’t register how loud you scream as Adrian devours everything you have to give him. When you come back to earth your ears are ringing, and you still feel his tongue drawing slow circles as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.

His face cherry red, he looks at your pussy like a man starved. You see him rutting against the couch, see how desperate he is to dive into your warm heat and never come back but he’s waiting for you, those pretty green eyes almost completely overshadowed by his dilated pupils. He’s completely fucked out and he still looks like sunshine, and in all honesty you’d risk going blind if it meant you could stare at him all day.

When you finally catch your breath you motion for him to come up, chest to chest. You taste yourself when his lips descend onto yours, both of you reveling in the feeling of being so close before you pull away.

“Thank you baby.” You pull yourself up and slowly caress his cheek just the way he likes, instantly relaxing into your touch as he lets out a soft noise. “You treat me so well.” you purr.

“Yeah?” he hums out, lost in the feeling of your fingers against his scalp, “Was I good?”

A small giggle escapes you, even when he’s the one doing all the work he’s still checking up on you.

“You’re always a good boy for me Adrian.”

You swear you could see the gears stop turning in his head. “Please don’t call me that, I’ll actually blow a load all over the couch. Unless that's what you want because I'm totally down for whatever-” You place a chaste kiss on his nose, which seems to stop him from going into another rant. You get lost in him again, all curly hair and big doe eyes. He’s completely debauched, glasses fogged and slanted as his breath comes out uneven, and yet he still looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever had the fortune of meeting. What did you do to deserve him? “Honeybee? You’re staring, are you okay?” He looks at you concerned, fingers still playing in the expanse of your thighs. You almost forgot where you were. “I’m fine angel,” you begin “just thinking about how amazing you are.” You bring your thumb up to lightly play with his bottom lip. “You treat me so well.”

You didn’t think he could get any redder but he does, the sound that leaves his lips is sinful.

“Do I? Does that mean you’re staying?” He presses a sloppy kiss to your collarbone, a sigh ripping from your throat as he moves his way down your body.

“I thought that was what the call was for?” You ask, confusion obvious in your voice.

“What? No, no way, I’m not done with you.” Huh?

Before you could ask what he meant he leaned back on his legs and you could see, or rather feel the answer prodding at your entrance. You sneak a glance downward, his cock red and throbbing. You notice the rivulets of precum down his shaft, all for you, and yet he was still looking at you for permission. As if he ever had to ask.

Just being this close to your pussy was sending him spiraling, sandwiching himself between your heat and slowly teasing you, but never actually succumbing to his needs.

“You feel so good, always feel so good, you feel like heaven-” He gasps out, words spilling out of him in one breath.

He puts his hand on your hips, glides himself against you even more than before. “Please, can I fuck you?” He whines. “I really needed to before but you sounded so good when I ate your pussy and I couldn’t stop myself-” You bring his attention back with a tug of his hair, eyes firmly locked on his.

“Adrian, please,” you bring your hand to guide his length. “I want you to fuck me.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he focuses solely on your neglected pussy, your voices getting higher and higher as you feed off of each other's pleasure. On instinct your legs wrap around his waist as he enters you, bringing the two of you closer and closer until Adrian has to hold himself up by his forearms. One inch, two inches, more and more fill you and you fully fall into his trap, your thoughts filled with nothing but how amazing he feels inside you. Almost immediately you can hear your effect on him, barely formed sentences rushing from his lips.

“Holy shit-holy shit-” he makes a strangled noise. ”Can I move?”

You nod, and immediately feel him become frenzied, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing off the walls. You grab onto his arms, then his back, leaving harsh red marks where your fingers meet his skin. The pain only spurs him on, his rhythm merciless.

“Goddamn it, you-” he manages to find his voice after a beat, “Your pussy is so tight, I’m not going to last…” You screw your eyes shut, completely lost in the euphoria, desperately chasing after your high. You hardly feel his fingers against your neck, but the moment he tightens them your eyes fly open, rolling back. “Hey,” he squeezes again and brings your focus back to him, “Say you want me, tell me you want my cock, tell me you want me to fuck you stupid, say it.” He sounds as breathless as you feel, hips moving faster and faster and faster- oh god I can't think-

He puts even more pressure on your throat, you think you might actually see stars.

“Fucking say it, I need to hear you say it, god please-” he pleads.

“I want you to fuck me Adrian, need you to fuck me-” You can don’t finish your sentence, his cock driving so deep inside it forces the air out of your lungs.

“Get loud princess, tell me how it feels, tell me how good it feels when I stuff your tight little pussy full of my cock.” His breath is shaky, sweat forcing his curls to stick to his face. You love how wild he’s getting, hands grabbing at anything he can find, your neck, your waist, your tits, he even whispers sweet nothings against your skin as his thrusts become erratic. Even when he lets your throat go and pins your hands above your head he can’t get enough of you, as long as he could feel you underneath him it doesn’t matter. Your head fills with static when you feel Adrian’s deft fingers moving against your clit.

“Need you to come for me, need to make you feel good, let me make you feel good darling-” He’s sobbing into your shoulders, body pressed firmly into you, his vocabulary blurring into a mess of half-finished sentences and grunts.

You’re slurring your words at this point, barely able to hold a sentence under the immense pressure of his hips snapping against yours. A particularly hard thrust leaves you reeling and you cry out his name as you come, your walls fluttering around him. Adrian follows soon after, enveloping your body in a tight hug before you feel his release inside you, warm and satisfying. The two of you both collapse against the couch, desperately trying to take in any air you can before you feel your boyfriend grab you by the neck for a kiss. It’s sloppy, all tongue but it’s what you both need right now. When Adrian’s had his fill he holds your face, peppering kisses all over your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” A kiss. “You’re so fucking pretty” Another kiss. “You’re better than-fuck hold on-” You stifle a giggle as he tries and fails to find something to compare you to.

“Y’know what? Doesn’t matter, you’re still better.” He brings you to his chest and never lets go. Even though you’re both sweaty and gross, you still find yourself relaxing in his arms. Only after a few minutes do you realize exactly how much of a number Adrian did to you.

It hurts to move, you note to yourself, but in a good way. The grip he had on your hips was bruising, and you know you’re going to feel it for days, a pretty reminder that only Adrian could leave behind. Noticing your discomfort, he makes it his goal to leave small kisses on every mark he left behind, even if you have to stop him from leaving more behind.

You pinch his shoulder when he tries to leave another one on you. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Only for you.” You don’t have to look at him to know he meant every word. “I get lonely when you’re gone, and it's like your boss loves taking you away from me.” he mumbles. You’ve known about Adrian’s insecurities for a while, his fear of being alone, and you don’t miss how he holds you just that bit tighter at his confession. You get the feeling he isn’t only talking about the guy who writes your checks.

“Adrian, you really missed me huh?” You laugh to no one in particular, enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend coddling you.

“Of course, duh, you’re the best girlfriend ever. I always miss you when you’re gone,” He turns to you. “But now we have plenty of time to make up for it.” He tries to finish with a wink but it comes out awkward and forced, and you giggle because as bad as it was, he still looked cute.

“Hey,” you whisper. “Look at me.” Adrian’s an awful liar on account of his face, his eyes give everything away, and right now you can see that hint of self-doubt lingering. You feel guilty, how could you be so naive?

“I’m sorry for leaving so much, I'll talk to my boss. And if he doesn’t agree I could always get a new job, yeah?”

You feel content at the small fuck yeah against your neck.

Okay, time to clean up.

You shake off the wobble in your legs before making your way to the bathroom, or at least you were until you were interrupted.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You’re stopped by his arms around your waist. “I'm not done with you.”

You feel his fingertips against your clit and the overstimulation makes your legs twitch.

“Adrian what are you-” You don't finish your sentence before you feel him drop you on his lap, scooting you closer towards him- there's no way he's still hard.

“I told you Honeybee, I’m not done with you.” Oh no.

“You’re always at work, or somewhere else, and you leave me alone sooo…” He presses himself against your body. “I'm deciding to do something about it.” Before you can open your mouth to argue you feel the sharp sting of his palm across your ass.

“So, I figure if you can’t walk, you can’t leave me.” Oh no.

“So that’s why…” He looks into your eyes and watches your reaction. “I’m going to stretch your sweet pussy over my cock until it’s dripping off my balls, and I'm going to keep you there until you’re too weak to stand. And if you even think about leaving the house I’ll fuck you ‘till you cry.” He smiles at you.

Like, genuinely smiles at you.

As if he didn’t just say the most filthy shit you’ve ever heard.

He said it so “matter-of-factly” too, like it was a casual thing to say that you were going to ruin your girlfriend on a Saturday afternoon. And knowing Adrian, he meant every word of it.

You couldn’t tell if it was fear or lust, but you were definitely feeling something, and if you knew anything about Adrian Chase, he keeps his promises. You look him in the eyes, and shudder.

Maybe you should say a prayer while you can still think.

[fox-guardian]

I'm gonna make a list of my Tim headcanons now

Flirting is a work skill and he cannot flirt well with people he's actually interested in

He's the comedic "straight man" as in, the most normal of the bunch, relatively speaking, and he thinks the others are a bit nuts (affectionate)

He looks like he wears normal socks but they have secret fun designs on them hidden under his shoes. Either that or they're day-of-week-socks that look plain black at first

He has the funkiest of patterned shirts. His closet is full of them. Ms. Frizzle-core. He has many matching ties as well

He wears glasses/contacts

He has a morning playlist of the happiest bounciest songs to put him in a good mood for the day

He is a morning person

If he's tired and needs his hair out of his face/off his neck he will put it up in several ridiculous little ponytails/buns because he stopped caring two hours ago

He's a purple person but also has a special place in his heart for whatever color baja blast is (aqua??)

He's like 5'8"

His humor is based on pop culture references, not memes, and he is very much not up to date with memes. He is an old man in that regard

I always draw him with purple hair but just know that this man has gray streaks somewhere under all that

He baby talks animals really hard (ex: who's a good pubby? Who's a good pubby-bubby-boo?? Good pububub! Pubsy-bubsy-wubsy-bwubba-bwoo!)

He becomes a massive germaphobe after the Prentiss incident

He's great with kids

He collects colorful gel pens and uses them at work (this bothers Jon because "why can't you be more professional, Tim")

He is good at his job and is mostly professional but hey. gel pens fun. and it's all perfectly legible, so there

He has rotating crushes on his coworkers and friends

Jon is like a brother to him. Mostly because he reminds him far too much of Danny

He is a couple years older than Jon, but doesn't know it at first, and if/when he finds out it'll be all over for Jon. He's got an older brother now and Tim will make it his problem.

He can, will, and has bonked Jon on the head with file folders

He is a very tactile person and will hug you so tightly

If you are Jon, he will likely pick you up and perhaps throw you if it is safe to do so

He cries at cute animals

He cries when he's really upset

He can't sing unless it's showtunes

He may have somewhat outdoorsy hobbies but hes not super athletic or buff

He has a few small stuffed animals he keeps mostly for decoration or sentimental value and hugs a pillow at night

He has a few keychains on his work bag, one of which is a bee that he is particularly attached to

He has idle animations, especially when he's tired, hungry, or excited

He definitely has ones of those giant spoons in his house somewhere

He collects mugs with cheesy sayings on them, as well as funky prints and novelty mugs

He owns at least one pair of white with red heart print boxers

When he's off work he dresses mostly plain but does have some very odd pieces he's obtained over the years, as well as shirts with weird phrases on them

Dude loves grape flavored stuff

He is a lover of stickers

He has great sideburns and shapes them like that because of the tenth doctor

[andiitom]

HEY! I really love your writting. I'm happy to see new faces in the twst fandom 😄 this is a weird request be can i get hc for fem!mc working as a carhop for the monstro lounge?❤

Thanks bestie! And it’s not a weird request at all. I already got some pretty funky asks already😓 This sorta kinda turned into a oneshot but hope you like it😁😁 also sorry it took so long I was having computer issues and kinda gave up at the end.

She knew answering her door at the asscrack of dawn was a bad idea, but she was a very empathetic person, and if they were coming up to her this early, it was for a reason. She had no idea Floyd had been tasked with kidnapping escorting MC to the Monstro. It was a special school event like the Scary Monsters or the VDC, this one being dubbed “Family Week” which should be self explanatory.

“Nope! I clearly said I'm open between the hours 8am to 9pm, and it’s now just 5am!” Grim and Mc wanted a few extra hours of sleep before the hoards of families descended upon the poor college. Mc main job was mostly directing the families to the correct mirror and keeping fans and paparazzi out due to the prasteige of some.

“BUT SHRIMPY!” Floyd tangled himself between Mc’s legs as he tried to stop her from throwing him out of Ramshckle. When the door was opened, the 'kinder' leech twin was standing there with his ever-famous sharp-toothed smile.

Azul explained to her that everyone seemed to flock to the Monstro Lounge; the line just to get in stretched from the mirror room to Main Street. As the event went on, the Monstro got even more popular, and the students who worked the lounge conveniently had club activities or got sick. This left the restaurant severely understaffed. With the lack of staff and an ever growing line, Azul began looking for workers as he wanted to impress his family and the others who came to the restaurant. He even went around trying to "persuade" his past workers to come help at the Mostro Lounge.

“Screw off octopunk”

“I’m not working while my family is here asshole”

“Sucks for you I guess”

This is why Mc ended up working at the Monstro, as she didn't really have any family in Twst and Grim made for a good sponge. All Mc knew was that Azul had her running around like a dog. It didn’t help that her uniform didn't fit her well. She was constantly rolling up her sleeves, and her shoes were both too small and too long, making her feel like a clown. Mc took up sewing during her time here and had a better fitted uniform back at her dorm, but with the suddenness of her employment and knowing Azul, he’d never let her go change, she had to make do.

Mc commends all retail workers for what they had to deal with because, if she had to hear: "Why is my shrimp cold dish cold?" or "Why are there only sea related food items?" She was going to lose her mind.

After a few hours, the line of people seemed to go on forever, and mc was dizzy from the number of times she had gone from table to table. During a short break, Mc remembered the roller blades she got from Sam's shop. Things could go by faster, but would Azul let her do that in the restaurant? It wouldn't hurt to ask, right?

"I HAVE THE GREATEST IDEA!" It was so busy even Azul was helping around the kitchen.

"You do Angelfish?"

"Yes..? I need to go back to my dorm!" Grim watches from the counter as Mc runs out of the Monstro leaving a stunned Azul, "FNAG!? WAIT MC! take me with you.."

No longer than thirty minutes until MC returns. She was in her yassified version of the octavinelle uniform. She had on a more fitted shirt, a scarf she turned into an ascot with the dorm crest embroidered on it, a black skater skirt lined with grey and purple, and the crowning jewel, her skates.

With a new found speed and a bright smile, the sound of the wheels squeaking on the marble floor, the clinks of plates, and the oohs and aahs of the guests filled the restaurant. Some started to film the spectacle of the girl balancing the trays of food while skating around the restaurant.

This had the opposite effect of what they wanted. The line seemed to double over the course of an hour wanting to see the famous carhop waitress, and people began demanding Mc to do tricks. It also didn't help when people she knew started stopping in as they wanted to talk to her, like when Kalim and his family stopped in and bought everything on the menu. So when the week came to a close, Azul decided a "farewell family special" was a great idea, but to everyone's dismay, Mc and Grim took the day off. Azul had Jade and Flyod try to skate around, but to cataclismic disater.

[wri0thesley]

Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

[multifandomwritings]

Can I please have part two of my ask with Thomas Hewitt, Chop Top, Nubbins, Michael, Sinclair brothers, Beetlejuice and Norman Bates. Just tell me if it is to many characters.

Sure, I hope you like it! 

Chop Top, Nubbins, Michael, Thomas, Beetlejuice, Bo, Vincent, and Lester with a tomboy fem S/O with shorter hair, wears suits & sometimes steals their clothes and wears lip gloss/lipstick

Chop Top:

- Although Chop Top has his own funky little style going on, I honestly think he’d be totally oblivious to anyone else’s for the most part

- He’d think you’re pretty and would like your individuality a lot though

- However, he will love when you wear his things! So much! Will literally take off whatever he’s wearing and give it to you just so you can try it (including his wig)

- Loves your lip colors too, especially anything glossy, glittery, or flavored/scented. He’d want to try them too but waits for an invitation to do so (plz let him) 

Nubbins:

- He'd find you so pretty and intriguing. Loves taking your picture, if you let him

- Shares his clothes with you all the time without you having to ask. In fact, he'd insist! Rummages around to find things he thought you would like and leaves them to surprise you

- He thinks you’re so cute and has no problem telling you so. Though he’d be a little shy and embarrassed, he’s super sweet and would be sure to hype up every outfit and lip color you wore (honestly just hypes you up in general) 

- Loves playing with your short hair, and will absolutely offer to trim it for you once it starts growing out. If you let him (plz don’t) you will end up with an extremely uneven, awkward haircut that you don’t have the heart to complain about because he’d be so proud

Michael:

- Michael wouldn't have any outward expression about this. You'd assume he really didn't care about how you dressed and such — and to be honest, he wouldn't — though he would notice more than you realized

- Especially if you wore something of his. He’d actually be visibly confused, to your amusement: tilts his head, looks you up and down to check if it was really his, and then just stares at you like...Why? 

- Not that he minds! He’d just be confused. Why would you even want to wear his clothes?...Is this a thing? Should he be wearing your clothes? 

- You’re just going through your things and hey...Where’d this lip gloss come from? (You turn around to Michael standing in the doorway, quickly disappearing before you can ask)

Thomas:

- Thomas would be pretty indifferent to appearance/style in general. He thinks you're beautiful, and wouldn't really pay much mind

- ...Still, you do catch him staring a little longer than normal when you're looking particularly sharp, or when you're wearing a pretty lipstick

- If you catch him, he'll get so embarrassed, quickly finding the nearest escape route and taking it 

- You wear his clothes? He will turn such a bright shade of red so quickly, and he isn’t even sure why. He isn’t used to people being so comfortable and close with him, but he’ll love it — thinks you look so cute in his clothes, and would stare admiringly at you when you wore them, wondering how you could make his dirty old shirts look so nice 

Beetlejuice:

- Beetlejuice would have seemingly never-ending compliments for you. A whole flirt, obviously. He'd adore your style a lot!

- He would love your suits, and kind of wants to match with you. Secretly wants to see you in his black and white suit, too 

- You like wearing his clothes? Eyebrow wiggles and smirking all the time. Here, have his suit...! 

- Loves your lipsticks and glosses a lot, particularly bold, vivid colors! Kind of wants to try to put it on for you, but ends up making a whole mess

Bo:

- Bo would find you so cute, and wouldn't have any reservations on reminding you of it frequently

- You're wearing his clothes? Cue raised eyebrows and a small, adoring (smug) smile. Lets you keep them, insisting that you look better in them than he does (which he would mean, but he also just wants to see you in his clothes)

- Lip glosses/lip sticks will never go unnoticed by him. There would be no shortage of sweet compliments on how pretty it looked 

- Gets in the habit of taking his hat off and sloppily popping it onto your head, earning a playful eye-roll from you each time (hey, if you're going to wear his clothes, you might as well wear the whole ensemble!)

Vincent:

- Vincent, I imagine, would be very appreciative of self-expression and individuality. That having been said, he'd adore it!

- Shyly encouraging of you. He wouldn’t be bold enough to be a flirt like Bo, and he’d be too shy to praise you with compliments all the time like Lester, but in his own way he’d be so sweet and thoughtful

- Thinks your short hair is so cute and pretty. He’d love playing with it and would occasionally playfully ruffle it up, smiling to himself at how cute you looked

- Will completely melt if he catches you in one of his sweaters. You’d give it back, but would later notice that it had ~somehow~ found its way back into your things

Lester:

- Lester would probably find you a little intimidating at first, particularly if you wore suits and the like. Thinks you're fancy!

- However as you began dating, he'd love it so much, finding you so interesting and pretty. Compliments you *a lot*

- If you wore his clothes, part of him would melt at how cute you looked and how close it made him feel to you, and part of him would feel insecure at how dirty his clothes could be (reassure him 🥺) He'd take greater care to keep things cleaner just for you from then on

- He’d be really sweet and thoughtful, noticing you like lip glosses and such and sometimes buying you some while he’s out to surprise you. He’d pick out the most random things (flavored lip balms, those cute lip glosses that come in shaped containers, etc.) but he’d be so eager and excited about it that you’d find it completely adorable

[silverrstarrr]

Hello, today I am starting a Eren x black reader fanfic. And don't worry, yo girl over here is Nigerian😋😋 I do plan to put smut into it but I've never written smut before so please be easy on about that part! (The reader and Eren are both 18, their first year in University.)

Y/n L/n. Daniyah

Dylan. Jason

Yume

Normal Girl<3

Chapter one:

You love the way I pop my top. Or love how I lose my cool

Music was playing in the background on a loud Bluetooth speaker as you were preparing yourself for the day. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you take off your bonnet, your long black box braids flowing down to your hips. Which cost a bitch. You were cleaning up your face and doing a causal face routine. You grabbed your makeup bag from under the bottom cabinet and began applying. Doing your eyebrows, eyeliner, eye shadow, lipgloss. Placing the brown foundation on your skin to cover up the bumps that were on your face, contour and more. You placed your false eyelashes on, ruffling up your hair a bit more. After a good 15 minutes, you were ready for the day.

Or love how I look at you. Say why?

The song Normal girl by SZA continued to play as you hummed to the rhythm of the song. Finishing up laying down your edges, you gave yourself a small smile in the mirror,  feeling hella confident in your looks. Even though you were self conscious, you had this thing when you believed you that you're the most ugliest bitch in the world, next thing you're in love with yourself. It was currently 8 am in the morning, class was starting by 8:45.

You wanted to freshen up before you left for school. Your roommate you shared a dorm with was currently out grabbing you guys breakfast.  You guys both settled for Dunkin' since their drink prices were reasonable and good unlike starbucks. You left the bathroom and grabbing your bonnet on the way out, switching the light off. You tossed the hair net on your bed as you went over to your dresser.

For your affection, tryna be down. No fighting and no stopping, Stick around

Oh shit, this was your part. You started to sing to yourself, not ACTUALLY singing it but you know, saying the lyrics.

"Wish I was the type of girl you take over to mama! The type of girl, I know my daddy, he'd be proud of. Yeah, be proud of."

You were singing your heart out at this point, who doesn't enjoy SZA?!

Not to mention, you relate so much to the song. Since you weren't America's "normal girl". You didn't have Blue eyes, blonde hair, or white pale skin. You were a beautiful brown skin woman, with black curly hair  and brown eyes. Not to mention you had 4c hair. But it wasn't a bad thing in your opinion, you loved your hair because at the end of the day, you knew it was long ass hell.

A bzzt sound came from your dresser, instantly your grabbed your phone and unlocked it. It was your roommate, Yume. Yume was a pale skin girl, with brown eyes and long black hair. She was mixed. Her mother was Japanese and her dad was white. Yume was pretty outgoing and bold, a lot of people on campus knew who she was. She was a party person. She still managed to get decent grades by that, you meant that she crammed at the last second and got a C+ or above. Opening up messages, you read the ones from Yume.

colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

Attachment: 1 photo

 

Look what I gooottt😩❗❗

y/n is funky🧑🏾‍🦱🦷❗        

y/n liked a photo

Girl, hurry up and bring the food😭

over here posing with the dunkin' bag, goofy😭😭

colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

I KNOW, IM ON MY WAY

I'm getting in the car now, see you later hot melatonin queen, wakanda queen 👸🏾 remember BLM✊🏻❤

y/n is funky🧑🏾‍🦱🦷❗  

LMAAAOOO, I HATE YOUUU

GET TF ON DAMN COLONIZER 😕

You began laughing, using your hand to cover your mouth. You left messages and began scrolling through your other social media. First you check snapchat, it was a bunch of your friends and people who added you, leaving hearts under your post story. Since you posted a little selfie.  You had on a cute graphic t shirt that hugged your upper body and showed your stomach. You didn't have a flat stomach but a little tummy. You had on faded blue jeans that rested at your hips. Even though you didn't have a flat stomach, your curvy body and a dump trunk made up for it. You had a few necklaces resting on your chest as well with a few rings on your finger.

I wish I was a normal girl, oh my. How do I be? How do I be a lady?

You clicked on instagram. You had a decent 10k followers. You were considered one of those pretty aesthetic pinterest girl, especially because of your outfit ideas.  You look through your feed for a bit, then you came across yume's page. You scroll through her post and liked her recent. You checked the comments and all the guys fawning over her, it wasn't anything new but you didn't expect this one person. They left a black heart under their post and yume replied to it. You clicked on the profile just to check if she had a secret lover and she wasn't telling you. The username was "eyeager45". Surprisingly, he had 18k followers.

Normal girl, oh

I wish I was a normal girl.

I'll never be, no, never be uh

This shocked you, not his follower count but the fact your roomie got him commenting hearts?! Nah, you need to find out. You scrolled through his feed, looking at his photos, he didn't have a lot of post. But damn he was fine. He had long brown hair that rested on his shoulders, his eyes were a teal color but you were still stuck deciding if it was blue or green. Most of his photos, he had it tied into a sloppy bun, a few strands stood out flopping over his forehead. Without thinking, your dumbass liked his photo.

"I-" you said. Before you can unlike the photo, yume barges in with breakfast. It was already 8:20, classes were starting.

"There was traffic on the way and since it's rush hour, everyone and their crew was getting coffee."

Yume placed you guys drinks and food on a nearby round table. She quickly ran to the bathroom to pee, closing the door behind her. You placed your phone back on your dresser and went over to grab your drink. You took a sip, It seem like this time yume got your (f/d) correct and not just getting a random flavor she sees on the menu. Opening up the bag, you grab your (f/f) along with the other food that was apart of your meal. You went back over to the dresser to grab your phone, then back to the small table. You sat down on the small couch that was close to the table and started eating.

"Hey! Make sure you got your own shit and not eating mine by mistake" yume was washing her hands in the bathroom.

You nodded your head with a "mmm". You were digging in, eating fast because class was starting soon. Coming out of the bathroom, yume whistled looking at your outfit. She always gassed you up & was your number one fan.

"Look at you~ all cute and shit" she ruffled through the bag, grabbing her donut already taking a bite out of it then her breakfast sandwich as she sat down next to you. Both of you guys were munching as if the food was running away, like slow tf down. You took out your phone to take a quick insta video of your food and yume. She was taking a sip of her drink when you pointed your camera on her, she did a quick deuces, which made both of you laugh a bit. You quickly added it to your story and tagged her. You went back and forth with your drink and food, until it was finish. You still had a some coffee left but the food? Gone. 

You and yume shared an apartment together. It was close to the campus and it was cheaper. Dorms costed a load for no reason. Most of the time they had no kitchen and barley any room other than for the beds. You met yume during high-school but you guys weren't that close but still kept in touch. Summer break came around and you guys so happened to have the same job. It was the best summer of your life, you were really greatful for meeting yume. She was also the first to offer you to share an apartment together since you both were attending the same university.

Both of guys were majoring in different things but that was fine. Yume was planning on becoming a nurse while you were in the cosmetic industry. It's been a dream ever since you were young. Grabbing your mother's makeup bag and just smearing it all over your face by the age of twelve. You remember the first time you did your makeup and showed your mom.

She laughed so hard and took you into the bathroom to fix it up. Slowly you started getting better and better at makeup. You had your own YouTube channel by the time but it wasn't a lot of subscribers, about 3k. Now you were 19 and had a 500k subscribers who supported you all the way. Being in the beauty industry on YouTube was a hassel because there was always drama here and there but you were never included. More like a "I just sit back and observe" type shit. 

The apartment you guys shared was pretty big. You had your own room and bathroom, the same with yume. Yume parents were wealthy since her mom was a dentist and her dad was a doctor. Yume never made any real friends. They always ended up leeching off of her and her money, one of the main reason she kept distance from you and others during high school but the summer brought you guys together. 

It was the beginning of the first semester, you had your first class today. You were excited but that didn't stop the anxiety creeping up your spine. What if you didn't make a good expression, or did some stupid shit and fell.

"Hellllooooo, y/n. You good?"

yume was waving her hand in your face. She was laughing at bit because of your face expression while you were in la-la-land.

You nudged her lightly and giggled back.

"Stoop, leave me alone. I'm just nervous about my first day"

Yume grabbed the empty bags and wrappers that were on the table, walking to the kitchen to threw them away. She had on a cute oversized black sweatshirt with a white collar. It went well with her white tennis skirt and beige color platforms. Yume was 5'6 but looked 5'7. She was really pretty in your opinion. It was surprising she didn't have a boyfriend.

"Girl pleaseee, you'll be fine. You're pretty and you have a cute laugh—who wouldn't fall for you?" Yume continued cheesying. She went over to the doorsteps and grabbed a pair of pair of  black air Jordan 1 retros(the high ones). She walked back over and tossed them on the ground next to you.

"You aren't wrong about that...but you know I literally don't know what to say after 'hi'. I don't know how people do it, it gets so awkward after that point."

"Shit...you're right...well since we're in college now, we can ask others about their majors and stuff but I rather not hear about a guy talking about how much he likes the human body system."

Loosing up the laces, you slip your foot in  and began tying the strings—you repeated the same process with the other foot. You grabbed your coffee and did a quick stretch before heading over to your dresser. You picked up your phone and keys, your bag was next to the door, you'll grab on your way out.

Yume grabbed her jacket and you did the same.

"How many people do you think we'll be in my class?" She asked

Since she was majoring in nursing. You titled your head up and started to think.

"Maybe around 335 people."

You zipped up your jacket and placed your phone in the pocket. Opening up your airpods, you placed one in your ear.

"Pssshh, that's an underestimate. I think around 400 or more"

Yume opens the door, tossing her bag over her shoulder— you grabbed yours also. Stepping out the apartment, she stood by the side as you locked the door. You pulled your phone out and played your playlist. It was time to start the day.

pt 2

[fakeoldmanfucker]

A musing on the 13th Doctor's relationship with gender expression

Aka me ranting about how Chibnall kinda dropped the ball with portraying 13 as the first female presenting Doctor and how I might try my hand at it instead.

-

The Doctor comes out of the dressing room with a shirt, tie, and jacket. Or maybe not the tie, but a button up and nice jacket anyway. This is what they are comfortable with. These are pretty much the only type of clothes that they've worn, with very small deviations, for the past thousand-two thousand years. This is a new body and she is without her TARDIS and she has no idea where she's going to end up after this adventure so yeah I would reckon she wants a time-honored outfit, something she knows she can move in, knows that will make her feel comfortable.

and sure, yaz, ryan, and graham kinda look at her a bit funny when she comes out dressed pretty masculine, but hey, it's the 21st century, they don't dwell on it for too long. (except for Yaz. Yaz stares for what would probably be considered an inappropriate amount of time, but we'll come back to that.)

so you know it continues like usual until the Doctor gets back to the TARDIS (and the infinite wardrobe inside). Maybe she starts with some earrings. She probably pierces her ears herself because we know the Doctor, ESPECIALLY 13, doesn't usually ask for help the first time round (or second, or even third). So yeah, maybe her piercings are uneven but it's FINE, it's not like anyone ever looks closely at other people's ears, right? And she starts with studs, just something easy and simple and not too in your face because, frankly, the Doctor doesn't quite know her face that well and she certainly doesn't want anything near it. And...wearing them is different. It's not better, really, but it's something she never imagined she could wear before and it feels nice.

She shows the companions and they're mostly very happy/impressed (or do a good job of acting like they are) but someone, Ryan probably, points out how uneven the piercings are. That night, alone in her room, she takes out one of the earrings. No one can notice how crooked they are if there's only one earring in at a time, right?

(When Yaz sees her the next morning with only one earring in, the girl gives her a hug. The Doctor doesn't quite understand why, but she returns the hug. Yaz gives good hugs, apparently.)

Over the next couple of weeks she transitions into deciding on her outfit, the one she wears in the series. It's similar enough to the old outfits while also being New and Funky that it suits this regeneration well.

But there's a moment she has sitting in the TARDIS wardrobe, staring at a rack of dresses. "I don't see what all the fuss is about," she says aloud to no one. (Except, of course, the TARDIS, who is always listening.) "They're not very good for running, are they?"

This is because most of the dresses in her wardrobe, long, ruffled, Victorian, are Missy's. She tries very hard not to remember this fact but, as usual, fails. She wonders, briefly, if the other Time Lord would need to come back to this TARDIS to pick up her dresses. But the Doctor decides that that wouldn't be a good thing, for the safety of her fam.

"Really, you can barely breathe in these things," she mutters, eyeing the tight-fitting bodice with something akin to disdain. There's a spot on one of the skirts that might be raspberry jam but probably isn't. She eyes that with disdain too.

Of course, the truth is the tightness of one's dress doesn't really matter; her respiratory bypass would allow her to run even with a tight-laced corset, and, since she has no issues with muddying hems, the length of a proposed dress matters little. In truth, it is the history of the dresses, the context woven into seams, that keeps her from trying any of them on. She tries very hard to forget this too.

When the Master reveals himself, she burns the dresses. Or maybe she throws them into the vacuum of space. Whatever the case, Missy won't be needing them anymore.

(but only most of the dresses were Missy's. In the back of the closet, hidden from light to keep it from fading, is the dress River wore on Darillium. There are others, too, left there from trips interrupted by some galactic crisis or another, but that dress in particular holds a place of pride. She will never wear any of those either, but at least with River she doesn't have to justify her choices.)

[dainty-fingertips]

a date, i guess! ||koichi zenigata x fem!reader

This is my first post on this account! Hope you enjoy my little oneshot of zen :)

word count: 1855

summary: you are the newest member of the lupin gang. lupin says that you guys are meeting up at a french restaurant to discuss plans for a heist, but it seems they all had other plans; plans to set you up on a date with zenigata, to be exact.

trigger warnings:  none :)

||

      Lupin beamed upon seeing where her gaze had landed. That quirky grin smeared itself onto his lips and he placed his head in his hands, creasing his maroon overcoat as he stared at her. She had always been his source of vague amusement, but this? This was gold. The group of five, including Jigen, Goemon, and Fujiko, were at a French hotel-restaurant, supposedly planning out the big heist for the next night; and apparently a certain inspector had figured out where they were meeting.

      The thief had suspected Yn had feelings for Zenigata, but had no real evidence to base it off of. This, however, with her cheeks red and her eyes looking over to the poorly disguised inspector every few seconds? How much more obvious can you get? She had helped Lupin, too, by noticing where he was. He was wearing a tacky purple and gold striped button up and black denim pants, and she had no idea why. She frowned slightly, somewhat shamefully wishing he had his usual frumpy trench coat she liked so much. He wasn’t wearing his hat either, allowing his short charcoal locks to get some light. Fujiko nudged her. “You’ve been in space this entire time. What’s on your mind?” She questioned off-handedly. Goemon moved his attention over to her, his dark brown eyes filled with an apathetic sort of curiosity. “I’ve noticed too. You of aren’t much use if you aren’t even here.” Yn quickly snapped her eyes back over in front of her, clearly flustered from being caught in her Zenigata-induced daze. “Oh, sorry.” She chuckled bashfully. She was worried they were beginning to not like her. 

      Lupin put his hands on the table, his playful brown eyes glimmering as they normally did. “It’s fine! Besides, if I saw a peacock in a petting zoo, I’d be staring too.” She stared at him blankly. “I mean… he’s right there.” She shrugged, glancing back to him. He nodded his head, that stupid grin still present. “I figured you’d be the first to notice.” She furrowed her eyebrows a bit and pursed her lips. “What…” Lupin straightened up and snickered. “‘What are you talking about?’ That’s what you were gonna ask, right?” The group stayed silent except for Jigen, who asked Lupin what he was going on about. Fujiko’s slim eyebrows knotted together, signaling to Yn that at least Fujiko was just as lost as she is. Jigen showed no expression, but that was to be expected.       “Well, you see, I may have given Pops a little anonymous tip.”

      “Arsene Lupin.” She said, her expression growing grim.

      “-The third.” He shot back cockily.

      She huffed through clenched teeth. The thief snickered again, happily shutting his eyes as he did so. “I know, right? Figured it would be a good way for the two of you to get introduced.” Goemon glared at Lupin, a disappointed look on his pale face. “You know,” He began, sighing and folding his hands in front of him. He closed his eyes in annoyance. “I feel everyone is entitled to be stupid every now and again, but you abuse that privilege.” Lupin shrugged and looked up. “We’ve all had our special little rendezvous’ with Pops, haven’t we?” Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon all sat in knowing silence. They all had, in fact. Lupin nodded with a smile. “Well, you see, she hasn’t gotten that privilege yet. What better than a candlelit dinner?” She looked nervously at the man; an expression that really wasn’t so much in fear, but simply in awe at his audacity. “What— I have to go sit down and eat with him?” She mumbled, growing anxious. Lupin winked. “Bingo! Since you seem to already have an eye out for him, it should be no problem, right?” 

      She felt like she was trapped in limbo. “I wonder how much better the world would be if you had gotten enough oxygen at birth.” She grumbled lowly. Fujiko aired an amused ‘hm.’ and looked over at Lupin. “Agreed.” He scoffed, putting the back of his hand to his forehead in a fake swoon. “The audacity. The betrayal!” He soon began to laugh and nudged Jigen. Jigen eyed him before he stood up out of the booth and walked around the table, grabbing Yn’s arm. “You were in on this too?” She snapped at him. Jigen snickered and yanked her up and out of the seat. She quickly caught her balance and swerved around to face him. He then shoved her away from the table and stood in front of the seats, ready to block her from returning to her seat.

      Jigen had a surprising amount of upper body strength for a gunslinger, but she knew she could probably land a few hits. However, they were in a very public restaurant in a very public area. It wasn’t worth the repercussion of getting thrown out. She scowled angrily at both him and Lupin before hesitantly turning around. There he was, in his funky outfit, hands clasped together and eyes looking out for any sight of Lupin’s gang. He had an iced water in front of him. Luckily they were in the very back, so he didn’t seem to notice them. He was facing to her left behind a waist high divider with a small slit near the top.

      She walked in the opposite direction he was facing, to the right. She figured it might be a bit safer if she approached him from behind. She rounded the corner and saw him near the front of the row, his back facing her. He ran a hand through his soot black hair and ruffled it a bit. She carefully approached him, slowly beginning to think that ugly shirt was more form-fitting than she’d anticipated. She passed the table directly behind him and slowed down her pace to the point she nearly stopped. This was terrible, and she’d never forgive Lupin for doing this to her.

      “Ins-Inspector?” She called, fumbling her words immediately. This truly was the worst. Zenigata quickly whipped his head around. “Wh- YN?” He yelled in response, disrupting the people behind him. She quickly put her finger to her lips. “Y-Yes, be quiet!” He carefully shrunk back in his chair and looked at her suspiciously. “That letter taped to my door said I’d be meeting someone to discuss something important. Are you the person?” He quizzed. Having no knowledge of what the letter read, she assumed Lupin had planned this exact scenario. She huffed in blatant annoyance. “Yes, sir.” He let out a small ‘hmph.’ And motioned for her to sit down, but he too seemed a bit nervous. 

She bit her cheek and took a seat across from him. “So,” he began, looking down at his water. “Why did one of Lupin’s thugs wanna meet me here, huh?” Thug? Is… is that what he thought of her? Technically, she was a part of a gang, but she didn’t hold herself like that. “With all due respect, inspector, I don’t know what makes you think that about me.” She frowned slightly. Zenigata looked up, slightly more wide-eyed than before. “Wait! T-That’s not what I— urgh.” He rubbed his temples. “I don’t think that about you, per se.” he mumbled in a slightly softer tone of voice. “You were just the last person I expected. I figured it’d be Jigen if anyone.” Did… he have a script he was following? The thought made her mouth curl into a soft grin. 

“Did the letter say it would be someone of Lupin’s?” She questioned, folding her arms in her lap. He groaned aggravatedly and pinched his nose. “Of course he’d do this. Did you even know about this?” He sighed, seeing her shake her head. “I thought I was supposed to meet them here to discuss something, but apparently that was not the deal.” She laughed dryly. Zenigata shot up. “They’re here?” He called, scanning the room.

She eyed where they were when she was forcefully pulled out of her seat, and it seemed they had all left right after she did. The booth was empty. Some friends, eh? She sighed through her nose. “No, sir.” He frowned and sat back down. “Oh.” He said softly. The disappointment in his voice was clear as day, which made her slightly sad. “Sorry, Zenigata.” He shook his head. “Why are you apologizing? Those weasels left you here by yourself with no clue what to do!” He quickly pulled the folded note out of his pants pocket. “Here, read the note.” She nodded and took it from his hand, and just like in every romance: their fingers brushed. She bit her cheek again and pulled her arm away a bit quicker, and he did the same. She didn’t catch it, but his cheeks grew slightly redder than they were before 

She opened the note with curiosity and immediately clicked her tongue in distaste. 

Dear Zenigata,

      I have oh-so important news to share with you. Something terrible has happened and you’re the only one who can help! ...Just kidding. It’s Lupin! Someone special is going to be meeting you tonight, 10pm, at the Hôtel d’Maigot, the French hotel/restaurant. If you want some very special info from a very special friend of mine, I recommend you head down there. Toodles!

P.S. Jigen says hi.

P.P.S So does Fujiko. I wish they would have said something when I was writing, but what can you do. Goemon and Yn aren’t here or I’m sure they would have said hi, too.

She sighed and folded the letter again, handing it back to Zenigata. “Yep. I was told nothing.” He scoffed. “That’s incredibly rude.” He murmured. He sipped his water, and the waitress approached. “Evening. Can I get you a drink?” She asked, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. Yn nodded her head. “Water with lemon, please.” The woman smiled softly and sent her a thumbs-up. “Right on it.” She spun around on her heel and walked away. Yn turned back to Zenigata and placed her head in her hands. “Inspector, it’s clear that they are just trying to set us up on some blind date or something.” She mumbled shyly.

“I’m not complaining, but please don’t feel forced to stay if you are busy.” She added with a sort of frown.

“Not— hey, what do you mean?”

Her face began heating up and she put her hands back in her lap. “I mean, ah, I’d enjoy a dinner with you if you’d have me.” She murmured quieter than before. Her cheeks were clearly red, but hopefully he wouldn’t notice in the dim light. “You… want this to be a… a date?” It seemed Zenigata was getting flustered too. She bit the inside of her lip and shrunk back in her chair. “Only if you want.” 

Zenigata cleared his throat and tried to brush off his burning cheeks. “Well, if you insist! You’ll probably tell me something I need to know about Lupin, anyway.” He called, feigning confidence. A small grin cracked onto the corners of her lips. “A date it shall be, then.”

[cayofdreams]

Vengeance = Repentance

PART 1: VENGEANCE

Summary: Reader had bullied Todoroki throughout all his time in high school. Years later, after a reconnection during an after-work drinking session, she goes back to his place, naively unaware of the payback he has planned for her…

Words: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit, Smut (in part 2)

Warnings: bullying by reader in beginning, murderous thoughts by Todoroki, Dark!Todoroki, drugging

(no smut in the first part, just immense build-up)

Notes: I could not for the life of me think of an interesting Todo fic to write. Until...THIS baby popped into my mind. It was actually really challenging and fun to write what goes on in the mind of Dark!Todoroki. I hope I did it justice.

~~~

He hated you.

Sometimes the only reason he had for living was simply to see the day that you’d be six feet under a cold batch of dirt. You’d be all alone down there with no one to control. No one to manipulate. No one to blackmail or threaten.

You’d have no lackey to run around and get you sweet bread from the convenience store. No lookout to make sure any teachers came to catch the abominable acts you committed in the bathroom stall or behind the gymnasium. No rich father to make sure that whatever horrible deeds you committed that were reported were swept gracefully under a rug.

And most importantly, you wouldn’t have him. The target of all your psychological and physical abuse. The one person who constantly fulfilled your insatiably engorged sadistic ego.

“Heyyy~ Shou, can you come here for a sec?” You had called out to your bi-colored haired classmate from the threshold of the class’ door. The twitch in his shoulders in reaction to your voice made you chuckle. Todoroki slowly slid his chair back, making a scratching noise against the tiled floor, and got up. He walked up towards you with his eyes trailing the floor.

“Yes?”

“Ohh! So obedient today, aren’t we? Hehe- It was only a matter of time I suppose.” You smiled your disgustingly innocent smile at him. “I need you to check something for me. It’s important, okay?”

He stayed silent as he watched you move the hand that was behind your back out forward. You had a carton of milk in your hand, and it seemed to have already been open. He saw you put the carton to your nose and sniff harshly from where the opening was before shoving the carton into his chest. A bit of milk spilled out and dripped onto his uniform.

“This milk. It smells kinda funky. I want you to check it for me.”

“…If it smells funny then it’s probably-“

“Did I ask for your cheap opinion? Just do the favor, alright?” You frustratingly squeezed the carton in your hand which made even more milk spurt out and land on your hand as well as Todoroki’s uniform again. “Ugh! Shit! Look what you made me do! From being so obstinate.”

“Sorry…” He took the carton from your hand. It was practically half full now so he wondered why you even still cared so much. But he didn’t ask. He put the carton to his nose and sniffed to try and find a rotten smell to it. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Are you stupid? Not like that, idiot. You’ll never know if its bad if you check like that.” You quickly took the milk from him and raised it in the air. “You have to check like this~” You began to slowly pour the rest of the carton’s contents onto his head, completely soaking his silky hair and ruining his uniform even more. The milk drenched into his shirt and he could feel its cool wetness trickle his skin. “Ahaha! Weeell?? Is it bad or not, Shouutoo??”

There was a loud commotion of hoots and hollers from the other classmates as they watched your tormenting of Todoroki.

“Uwaah!! Milk boy got dunked on again!!”

“Gross! He’s gonna smell so bad later…”

“Dude! Go wash up! You’re gonna make the whole class smell like milk!”

“Krrgh..” Todoroki choked up in frustration, his hands balled into a fist. The fact he couldn’t just punch you right now could drive him to a point of enraged insanity.

The fact he had to let you get away with this over and over again just because of your father’s notorious connections with various government and business groups. He sometimes thought about just killing you anyway and dealing with the consequences. Prison would be more manageable than continuing to live in this same physical plane as you.

He thought about how he’d do it, too. If he would try to do it inconspicuously with poison, or conspicuously with his hands wrapped around your slender little throat. The former lead to more chances of him getting away with it. He could have the pleasure of your death along with his freedom. But the latter…the latter was just too enticing to pass up. Being able to hear your gargled whimpers attempting to beg for your life. Your legs that would try to kick and pry him off your weak body. Your face losing its color as your body is abruptly deprived of oxygen. And finally, his personal favorite, your bloodshot eyes that would be pleading for him to give you mercy before finally greying out.

Yes…the latter would have to do. Time in prison would be a beautiful cost to pay to see you perish under his fingers. The world would thank him later, for getting rid of their waste. Your death would serve as your repentance

But he was weak. Scared. He couldn’t find the conviction he needed to actually go through with it. It made him feel even worse. Maybe you were never wrong, and he was truly as spineless as you treated him.

But he’d get stronger. He had to. He needed to. He craved to.

-------------------------9 YEARS LATER-------------------------

“Good job on closing the deal, Todo!”

Todoroki had felt a harsh pat on his back before a heavy arm was slung over his shoulder by his spikey red haired coworker as he was grabbing his blazer off the chair.

“It was nothing, Kirishima.” He replied coolly but not without a small twinge of a smile.

“Ha! ‘It was nothing’ he says!” The energetic man turned his head around to face everyone else in the office. “Hey! Everyone! Pay attention to this guy right here! You might become the most successful businessman this country has to offer!”

The office chuckled and gave soft cheers for Todoroki, some of them poking fun at Kirishima’s exuberant display of comradery.

“Todo! Kiri! You guys are coming out for drinks, right!” Another one of Todoroki’s energetic co-workers, this time with bright yellow hair, briskly jogged up towards them. “I already invited the ladies!”

“Totally, dude! Where are we supposed to be going?”

“Heights Alliance! That bar has the best drinks and food a guy could ask for. Not to mention cute girls!

Todoroki softly brushed off the arm of Kirishima before putting his jacket on. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Aw! Come on dude!” This time, the yellow-haired co-worker placing his arm around Todoroki’s shoulder. “You alllways bail on us! Come with us this time! Drinks on Kiri!”

“Hey, Kaminari! Don’t decide that for yourself!” Kirishima retorted. “But yeah, man. You should come out. We miss you sometimes, dude.”

Todoroki hesitated as he contemplated his fellow workers’ requests. Honestly, he had never gone out to just...have fun. He would clog his mind with work which was probably why he was successful anyways. He didn’t even know why he was so disciplined when it came to his career. Not knowing what his goals even were. Focusing primarily on work, but for what? To just deny any moments of pleasure or belonging?

Maybe it was time for a change.

“…Alright.”

“Wooo!!! Todo is officially on board!”

The loudness of the cheers of his coworkers rang stingingly through his eardrums but he couldn’t suppress the smile that stemmed on his face.

As he had the feeling tonight would be an unforgettable night.

-------------------------------------------------

Todoroki sighed as he sipped the last of his drink and placed it softly on the counter in front of him. He sat alone as he thought about what he was even doing there. The entire evening basically constituting to watching his co-workers ramble on about various subjects that he could not get the meaning behind. After a while of heavy drinking, that he did not participate in, everyone either went bar-hopping or went home passed out in a taxi. He truly did not understand the purpose of such gatherings and he started to wonder how he’d even fit into society.  

As he thought to himself, the sudden words from the bartender disrupted his thoughts.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

The abrupt sound of your name made him widen his eyes and his body unconsciously jolt in the barstool. Was it really the same Y/N? No, it couldn’t be. Surely there were a bountiful amount of people with names that were similar to yours. But he had to check for himself, so he looked up from his empty glass and-

“Haha…Shinsou. Looking as gorgeously sleepy as ever. How are you?”

The sounds of your conversation with the bartender drowned out with the rest of the bustled atmosphere as he glared upon you. Without a doubt, it was you. He could never forget that figure. That figure that towered over him menacingly even though he was taller than you. That figure that just watched from a distance as you sent your delinquent underlings to pummel him into the cold cement. That figure who would bow respectfully to teachers when they dismissed any reports of your lechery. And now that same figure was only a few feet away from him, sitting gracefully at the bar counter as you talked to the unknowing bartender.

His glare locked long enough onto your figure for you to finally meet his eyes. And before he could look away, you had called out to him.

“Eh..? To…Todoroki?” You had softly called out to him. Using his name in a way that he had never heard from you before. Using a voice that harshly contradicted the patronizing tone you barked commands at him with. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”. You were smiling at him. Smiling at him as if he were a longtime friend that you missed connections with due to one of you going abroad.

You had hopped out of the barstool and approached your old classmate, taking a new seat beside him. He looked over at the wall of drinks displayed in front him, avoiding your gazing. “Wow…you’re all grown up now, huh?” You looked over to the bartender raising your hand at him. “Shinsou~ A refill on whatever he had, okay? Make it two actually.” The bartender simply nodded at you before mixing up various alcohol and flavors behind the counter.

“I..I don’t want to drink.” Todoroki shivered at his own statement as he was reminded of the times you’d scream at him for not doing something you’d ask.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s on me, okay? Don’t worry about it.” You had inched your head more over the counter trying to get a better look at him. “Your hair…I always thought it was dyed. But I guess its real, huh.” You reached your hand out to run your fingertips through his silky bi-colored bangs. He twitched at your touch.

What exactly were you doing? Acting so innocent with him like this. Were you just going to pretend like the three-year long trauma you subjected him to was a fable? An illusion? Or perhaps you had minimized the damage you’d done in your mind in order to preserve your own sanity as you took over a new life.

“...Y/N. What are you doing?”

You quirked your eyebrows in confusion at his question. “What do you mean? I just…I just think your hair is really pretty is all.”

Were you faking it? Was this another one of your atrocious jokes? Perhaps within the next minute you’d start cackling at him, asking him how he could be stupid enough to believe he deserved such niceties from the likes of you.

Todoroki looked down and squeezed the empty glass on the counter. “Don’t you…don’t you remember? What you did to me?”

“Todoroki…” You lowered your eyebrows in sorrow. “I-I’m sorry for what I did to you back then. I was indeed…a cruel person. I know you probably won’t accept that…but I still want to tell you. You at least deserve my apology. As cheap as it is.”

He looked over to you, surprised at your apologetic tone. He gazed into your e/c eyes. The very e/c eyes that captured the hearts of everyone around you, yet seethed supremacy and calamity toward him. He had learned to distrust anyone with eyes that resembled yours. The eyes that were now looking at him with…

Remorse. Your eyes were burdening in remorse. As soon as Todoroki saw the guilt that dwelled in your eyes he knew that this wasn’t a joke. That you weren’t pretending to feel these things. The look in your eyes unquestionably conveyed the apology you had stated earlier.

And it was that same look that would ascend an unusual beast that lurked within the visceral regions of his body. An unfamiliar thirst that stayed submerged within him, never needing to be satisfied until now. It gurgled within the depths of his gut, practically wanting to vomit out of his esophagus.

A beast that went by the name of revenge. And it would be so easy to pursue it right now with the plague of repentance beating in your heart.

Todoroki placed one of his hands on yours and squeezed tightly. Your skin was so soft, so smooth. He could never take the time to feel how delicate your skin was when the only touch of yours he knew before was the stinging slaps you’d deliver on his face. But tonight, he’d be able to feel something more, and the touch of his hands on yours only made the beast inside of him grow more and more unruly.

“I forgive you, Y/N.” He tried to state it in the softest way possible, making sure the feigning of the line wouldn’t be discovered. However, he knew you believed him by the twinkle in your eye, signifying an immense weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“Todoroki…” A warm tear dropped from your cheek to his hand. “Thank you, Todoroki… thank you.” More tears would soon follow and drop onto his hand. He would’ve let go of you if he wasn’t so encapsulated by the feeling of your salty waters dropping onto his skin. As your tears cooled and dried up into his hand, he couldn’t have felt more enthused.

It was only then that Todoroki could take in the beauty that was your face. You looked so elegant like that, with pools of emotions trailing down your cheeks. Maybe if he’d seen this site of you in high school he’d had instantly fell in love. But such feelings didn’t reside in him anymore. They’d been evicted by the lurking beast of revenge, and that beast was craving more of this site from you.

“Two Vieux Carre cocktails” The bartender had placed the drinks on the counter in front of each of you before grabbing something under the counter. “…and a tissue”. He handed the soft fabric to you which made you giggle a bit.

“Thank you, Shinsou.”

He simply hummed a reply at you and returned to making drinks for other patrons that had walked in.

While you wiped away the allure that was your tears, Todoroki sat there, thinking of prolific strategies of how to get you under his grip. Should he just ask you to come home with him? Wouldn’t that be too straight forward? He didn’t know much about social interactions, but he knew asking a woman at a bar to come home with him had its underlying implications. And its not that he was undesired by women; he knew of the colleagues in his office that held romantic feelings for him. He just never followed through with any of them, never feeling anything close to the desires that were brought for him.

He also couldn’t help but feel subconscious about asking you to come home with him. You were the person that so incredibly ridiculed him for three years. You were still the same person who made him believe that no sane person would ever look twice at him. That he was too weak and monotonous to ever make someone feel happy.

Or were you? It seemed that whatever life change you went through caused you to redevelop your entire personality. Maybe you’d be like most the women he encountered in his life and become attracted to him? After-all, he also wasn’t the same person as he was in high school. He’d become stronger mentally and physically as well as much more confident about himself.

“Y/N, would you like to…finish drinking at my home?”

You stopped drying your tears at the suddenness of the question. “Huh?...You actually want me in your home?”

“Only if you want to.” Todoroki squeezed your hand again attempting to signal the desire to have you with him in private.

Blood rose to your nose and you looked away in embarrassment. “…Okay.”

Todoroki couldn’t stop the widening of his eyes at your acceptance. A part of him truly believed you’d call him disgusting before jumping up and delivering one of your characteristic slaps to his face. The heavens knew just how badly that needed to happen. If you’d rejected him, the beast of revenge may have gone right back to where it resided, deep in the subconscious of his mind.

But no, you’d accepted him. And with that, you’d accept your punishment. If you were truly ready to take on a new life, you would need to repent for your old one.

------------------------------------------------------------

Todoroki couldn’t stop the erratic beating of his heart as the two of you walked over the threshold into his house. He was closer and closer to fulfilling the dream of having you within his grips. But he couldn’t be too impatient as this would be the part where he would need to tread carefully. As the two of you took off your shoes, he would continue to watch your every move, like a jaguar stalking its prey.

“Woww!” Your eyes wandered around Todoroki’s living room, amazed at how expansive and beautifully designed it was. “Your house is so luxurious! And polished!” You looked back at Todoroki. “It suits you.”

Todoroki was a bit taken aback by your statement. As far as he knew, you had a rich father who catered to everything your callous heart desired. He was partly the reason behind his suffering seeing as that your father made sure any unpleasantry brought against you was hushed behind a closed door. “You aren’t used to this?” He stepped over to the mini-bar area and reached up to grab a specific bottle of wine.

“Huh?” You followed behind him and leaned against the bar counter, grazing your finger over the refined marble surface.  

“This…kind of house. You aren’t used to it?” He grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer and began to pry off the wine bottle’s cork. “Your father was a rich businessman was he not?”

You scoffed as you rested your elbow on the marble. “My father was in the yakuza. Rich in some aspects, but no businessman.” Your eyes fell from Todoroki to the counter. “And we never got to live in a place anywhere this grand. Especially after he was taken down by the cops…”

“I see.” It made perfect sense honestly. Your yakuza connections would explain the lackeys, the apathy of the teachers towards your lechery, the strange approval of your actions by the entire class. It must’ve been hard behind the scenes having to be the daughter of a yakuza member, but nonetheless it wouldn’t your crimes against his humanity. Todoroki poured two glasses of wine and placed one on the counter next to you.

“Should we…sit on the couch?” You looked towards to main part of the living room, eyes landing on Todoroki’s expensive sectional. “I-I mean…if you want to…”

Todoroki noticed the flustering of your face and couldn’t help but think that if the two of you had met under different pretexts he would surely have made you his wife. But marriage is not what this affair is about. This affair is about satisfying the demon that grew expansively inside of him.

He grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers between yours as he picked up both glasses with his other hand. “I’d love to, Y/N”.

He walked the two of you over to the couch, waiting until you sat down to hand you your glass and sit closely beside you. He carefully watched as you took sips from the glass, mesmerized by the shape of lips and how you’d glossed them for your night out. They looked so soft and delicate and perfectly matched the dimensions of your face.

But your naivety obviously outmatched your beauty Todoroki thought. How could you so easily drink from the hands of someone who would so obviously want to get revenge on you? Did your newfound personality make you oblivious to the dangers of life? Maybe after wanting to permanently discard the remains of the yakuza from your brain, you decided to look at people in a new light. Maybe you wanted to just see the good in everyone and learn that most people aren’t out to destroy you. It is indeed a true thought; most people don’t want to destroy you.

But most people also don’t subject those around them to abhorrent acts of malice. And for that, your naivety would prove to be one of the worst decisions you’d made in your small existence.

“Your wine…it tastes very good.” You had swirled what left of it you had before drinking it all within a couple more gulps.

Probably the best compliment you could have said in your life. Todoroki had taken the time to make sure every speckle of power was completely dissolved into the wine. He couldn’t taste it himself or get a taste tester of course, so he would have just had to wait until your ultimate encountering to test it. And it worked.

“It was a gift from a friend abroad.” A lie. But a believable lie. “I’m glad you like it.”

You quizzingly looked at his still full glass of wine in his hand. “Why didn’t you drink any?”

“Oh...I- well I guess I am already a bit tipsy from the bar so further consumption would be ill-advised.” He smoothy stated before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggled at the statement as Todoroki internally cackled at your gullibility.

“You know, Todoroki…” Your eyes strayed to your lap. “I know this must mean nothing coming from me but…I liked you a lot in high school.” You twirled your index finger in circles on your skirt. “And I know I was mean to you but…I believe that our encounter must have been fate because, well…I still like you.”

Todoroki smiled, a cover-up for the guttural laughter that wanted to burst out of him. He let go of your hand and traced his fingers across your cheek before holding the side of your face delicately in his hand. “That…means more than you’d ever know, Y/N.”

“Shouto…”

He leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek before pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were just as soft as they looked and the gloss you wore provided a sweet vanilla taste. You sunk your hand into the red side of his hair before slipping your tongue in between his lips. Your tongue felt hot in his mouth and Todoroki grabbed your head to pull you deeper into the kiss. He tasted every part of your mouth that he could with his tongue. Your teeth, your gums, the inside of your cheeks. He made sure to leave his mark everywhere in your mouth, foreboding to the marks that would soon be left on your body.

As his kiss got deeper, yours became shallower and lazier. Eventually you pressed your hand against his chest to softly get him to back up.

“I’m sorry, Shouto…” You pressed your hand to your forehead. “It seems…I have a headache…and I’m kinda sleepy.” Your eyelids drooped heavily as sleep seemed to overcome you. “I…should go home.”

Shouto grabbed your head and leaned you down on the couch, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Ssshh…its okay Y/N. You can just sleep here for tonight. I’ll drive you back in the morning.”

“Okay…thankyou, Shouto.” You quickly drifted off to sleep at the finish of your sentence.

When Todoroki felt the heaves of your chest raise higher and lower at deeper levels, he picked you up into his arms, carrying you gently to make sure you wouldn’t wake up. Though that was a rare chance seeing as how he put a little extra power in the wine to make sure it would subdue you. He carried you down the corridor to the door that would lead to your demise. Before he walked down the stairs, he whispered into your non-listening ear.

“This encounter is indeed special, Y/N. But it will be more special to you than it will for me…because tonight will mark my vengeance. And tonight will also mark…your repentance.”

[crow-in-a-teapot]

tower of nero spoilers

i have just finished the tower of nero. and before i go searching for other people’s thoughts and art and more of the characters i love so much, i want to write down some of my own thoughts because i know as soon as i delve into that ‘ton spoilers’ hashtag there are going to be complaints and criticisms and so much that i don’t want to hear, or essays that’ll make me upset, or things that’ll change my perception on the book (because on this website people really love to hate the trials of apollo).

i want to start with: i loved it. it didn’t feel earth-shattering or huge and momentous like some of my favourite riordanverse books (house of hades, the blood of olympus, the last olympian and maybe some of the magnus chase books take those pedestals for me) but it was satisfying. and i think it was satisfying because it in no way felt like an ending. whether because eventually rick will write that will-and-nico-go-through-tartarus-and-save-bob novella, or because we (or at least i) will continue writing and imagining and creating for this world i don’t know. he didn’t wrap up the story in a perfect little bow like ‘nineteen years later’, he simply put it on pause. gave us a glimpse of where every character was at at the end.

the only thing that makes me so angry and upset is that i did manage to get some spoilers for moments that i know would have been so good to experience for the first time if i hadn’t been spoiled for them. the moment where rachel mentions penguins in a mansion near her house, nico getting mental health advice from mr d, the fact that will and nico were going to be in the book for so much of the story, but the big thing was literally spoiled for me two days ago, it was the reason i sat down to read it as fast as possible because i was terrified of getting more spoiled and not being able to experience the moments for myself, was that piper had a girlfriend. i know that reading that for the first time would have been so cool and surprising, and the fact that when it came up for a moment in the last couple pages all i felt was disappointment because it was spoiled for me and because it was now tinged with whatever that person was saying about her having a girlfriend.

but i still had some warm fuzzy moments, the two parts where apollo thinks he’s going to die but nico comes up behind him - so good. impeccable. 

Leader Guy spat. ‘Now, I kill you.’

He raised his sword... and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pine needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in his bony hands. 

Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.

and

Nero raised his hand, ready to give the kill command, when behind me a mighty BOOM! shook the chamber. Half our enemies were thrown off their feet. Cracks sprouted in the windowsand the marble columns. Ceiling tiles broke, raining dust like split bags of flour. 

I turned to see the impenetrable blast doors lying twisted and broken, a strangely emaciated red bull standing in the breach. Behind it stood Nico di Angelo.

gods. poetic brilliance. i can’t believe i’m still a nico di angelo stannie in the year 2021. in five years i have not changed (ever since the tv show announcement last summer i have managed to morph into myself from 2017)

from here i’m not sure where to go next i kind of want to go through everything, except it’ll be more difficult than my tyrant’s tomb reaction because i wasn’t reading on a kindle and thus can’t just do funny little reactions to screenshots of quotes, so i’ll just skim through the book page by page and see what i can comment on (i’m not planning on doing analysis today, no thank you, just enjoying the end of my childhood and trying to squeeze as much out of it as possible)

i have an emotional attachment to mr. snake from the very first chapter, and am very upset that he’ll never get off on his baltimore stop and get to see his wife, lu had no reason to shoot and kill him like that.

that brings me to lu, i liked her, it was interesting to see how rick kind of brought in not only the overarching theme of abuse, but also people who let the abuse happen, i have more i could say on this i’m too lazy to right now, and i promised no analysis - or the fact that Lu had conspired to make the show non-lethal to spare Meg’s feelings rather than - oh, I don’t know - refusing to do Nero’s dirty work in the first place and getting Meg out of that house of horrors. 

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to opppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything.

the parallels to meg and lester heading to percy’s apartment, and then to camp half blood to the hidden oracle was so cool to read, every callback to the hidden oracle just there to remind us readers exactly how far apollo has come and how he’s changed; the entire chapter with sally, paul and estelle just felt sickly sweet, it just didn’t seem real how wholesome and good that family is, like i get why apollo broke down and just sobbed in that shower.

also rick really saying acab again in toa, i thought he was done after that elf cop chapter in magnus chase (the magnus chase series is a masterpiece) but apparently not, with A ‘good cop’ is still a cop... still a part of the mind game.

the grey sisters, i forgot about them completely but this threw me back into was it the sea of monsters when annabeth summoned them? i’m not sure, it could have been the lightning thief either, they really remind me of the disney hercules movie. the whole ganymede paragraph was gold, i love gods being canonically confirmed lgbt in the riordanverse. i also love the whole eye-tossing part - 

‘He will crush our eye,’ Anger cried, ‘if we don’t recite our verses!’

‘I will not!’

‘We will all die!’ Wasp said. ‘He is crazy!’

‘I AM NOT!’

‘Fine, you win!’ Tempest howled.

also, the explanation for why dionysus chooses to look the way he does was perfect, because it was something i often wondered about and wasn’t expecting to get an explanation for, and i imagine the whole mythological dionysus to look like.. well like a more feminine apollo i guess, beautiful in a gender non-comforming way.

Other Olympians could never comprehend why Dionysus chose this form when he could look like anything he wanted. In ancient times, he’d been famous for his youthful beauty that defied gender.

... 

In retaliation, Dionysus had decided to look and act as ungodly as possible. He was like a child refusing to tuck in his shirt, comb his hair or brush his teeth, just to show his parents how little he cared.

every scene with nico at camp just BREAKS ME, i would throw in screenshots of every damn quote but unfortunately, as said above, cannot and would rather not type every one; we’ll start with, obviously apollo confirming to him that jason is dead. 

He didn’t look angry exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked. Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

ugh then will talking about how nico’s doing, confirming that he’s suffering with ptsd, mr d giving him advice, helping him sort though what voices in his head are real and which ones aren’t, then the paragraph that just recounts every horrific thing poor nico has been through, how will has to reassure him that he’s okay and ‘with friends’ when he wakes up after shadow travel

will’s kindness to apollo, buying him clothes, and apollo finding seymour the leopard’s head in his bed, put there by mr d aaaa AAAA A A A A A THE ORDINARY, EVERYDAY CAMP HALF BLOOD THINGS..

i could go on for years and years about how much i appreciate rachel having a big role in this book, and the visit to her apartment, everything, her art, the fact that she got what she wanted, she’s going to PARIS to study ART, she isn’t forced to be someone she’s not by her dad, and gets to be a big part of a demigod mission and not stand on the sidelines for once.

i love that her landscapes are still visions, that she still paints the quests demigods go on - the burning maze, jason’s funeral pyre, caligula’s ships; and how nico ~appreciates art~

‘And, hey, di Angelo -’ she pushed him playfully away from the canvas he’d been ogling - ‘don’t brush against the art! I don’t care about the paintings, but if you get any colour on you, you’ll ruin that whole black-and-white aesthetic you’ve got going.’

i. love. rachel.

WILL GLOWS!! THE HEADCANONS FROM LIKE FIVE YEARS AGO THAT YOU’D SEE FLOATING AROUND ABOUT HIM MANIPULATING LIGHT!! CONFIRMED!! CANON!! AMAZING

I AM  OBSESSED WITH THE TROGS, I LOVE THEM, THEY ARE GREAT, not gonna lie, i was expecting something more dramatic and spooky with how worried will was and how dionysus was going.. visiting the cavern-runners isn’t ♫ good for your mental health  ♫ but the little hat frog gremlins were a good addition. i like them very much and their funky little soup shenanigans. quoting the ghost king himself: trogs good. nice hats. (IM SORRY I KEEP MENTIONING HIM BUT I JUST) also how apollo starts wishing for breadsticks a s ajoke and theY STRAIGHT UP HAVE BREADSTICKS? HUH? WHERE DID THEY GET THE BREADSTICKS FROM??

yeah, i’m also still very much upset by every mention of jason grace, it’s funny how ever since his death in the burning maze i have grown to love him more and more and that’s not fun for me, for that boy to become one of my main comfort character’s and have his death and sacrifice and nobility mentioned every few chapters. i’m pretty sure i cried when he appeared to talk in apollo’s dreams, and this time the tears weren’t from the effort of keeping my eyes open and working for hours straight reading this book (i remember staying up until 2am to finish the sequel to beautiful, broken things, it was very much worth it)

‘All right, Jason. We miss you, though.’

ALSO. THE FACT THAT THIS KID. THIS CHILD. HAD TO THINK ‘BUT IF A HERO ISN’T READY TO LOSE EVERYTHING FOR A GREATER CAUSE, IS THAT PERSON REALLY A HERO?’ A KID ISN’T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT THAT AND BE READY TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR THE GREATER GOOD,, i,, ugh,, he’s supposed to be finishing school and designing temples not being the perfect hero and soldier,, spain without the s,,

as @couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name said: ‘thinking about how ghost! Jason didn’t seem to understand why Apollo was so upset about his death because he’s been raised to believe a hero’s sacrifice is noble and his life doesn’t matter in the grand scheme and also if he doesn’t understand why the person who watched him get horrifically killed is so torn up over his death he probably doesn’t even realize his other friends are grieving him..’

IM SO UPSET THE ARROW OF DODONA IS DEAD D: IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ALL THE FUNNIEST MOMENTS WERE BECAUSE OF THAT ARROW AND IT'S DEATH WAS SO SAD WTH LIKE WE FIND OUT HOW USELESS THE ARROW FELT AND HOW THE GROVE OF DODONA ALL THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CRAP AND WOULD FAIL APOLLO AND THEN ONCE WE FEEL BAD FOR IT, IT DIES??

the entire python battle was pretty grim, there is a part of me that's like because this is the last book series i would have loved say the magnus chase and kane chronicles gang in a giant battle with everyone like the battle of manhattan but even more dramatic, but even so, i did appreciate that python battle and the whole almost-falling-into-the-depths-of-tartarus thing.

him talking to artemis was cool, but JESUS: 'I turned and strode out of my room, trying to recall how the god Apollo walked.' like that HURTS. it was such a huge culture shock for apollo to go throught this huge character arc and be so human and understand the pain of others, to be around gods again who are so.. apathetic. also, zeus. 'Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let's be honest: some fathers don't deserve that. Some aren't capable of it.'

OKAY OKAY SO THE END?? CHIRON TALKING TO A CAT (BAST) AND A SEVERED HEAD (MIMIR) ABOUT SHARED PROBLEMS WITHIN THE PANTHEONS!! WILL AND NICO RECEIVING A PROPHECY FROM RACHEL TO GO TO TARTARUS AND SAVE BOB!! THE HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS, INCLUDING THALIA AND REYNA BEING BEST FRIENDS (qpr.. qpr..) HUNTING THE TEUMESSIAN FOX!! PERCY, ANNABETH AND GROVER, THE ORIGINAL TRIO, GOING ON A CHAOTIC ROAD TRIP TOGETHER!! - SO MANY STAND-ALONE SET -UPS PFSJSJSJ

okay quick word on the reunions at the end: funny little elephant visitation program with livia and hannibal. love that for them. calypso and leo's relationship seems rocky and complicated, but that's to be expected, i think even if they do get properly back together again it might not last long, because it does pretty much feel like a teenage relationship where the two aren't very compatible, but we'll see. hazel and frank are so funny with their gold plated necklaces. lavinia - tap-dance icon. almost cried at the mention of jason's temple-extension plan again. percy not being sure about what he wants to do in college is accurate and i like that that's left to be up-for-interpretation (rick does THE MOST for the fanfic writers pfsjsj). i am OBSESSED with aeithales, like i hate deserts so the burning maze setting is not my favourite but GOD that HOUSE, the vibes are off-the-charts. i'd love a house made of living trees that's also a greenhouse filled with dryads. meg gets a unicorn. that is so great.

i kind of wish the book hadn't ended with 'Call on me. I will be there for you.' because every time I imagine the friends theme song and i don't think that's the vibe he was going for, BUT i do love him talking to meg, that was genuinely emotional - 'You'll come back?' she asked. 'Always,' I promised. 'The sun always comes back.' ; i really wish it had ended with that, but i guess apollo does tend to break fourth walls and talk to the readers, like a lot of the protagonists of riordanverse books.

[havenoffandoms]

Man’s Best Friend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786457/chapters/73307826#workskin

Summary: When Eskel can’t stomach any human interaction, Lambert brings in the big guns.

This is just an excuse to write some Lil Bleater and Eskel fluff. Check out the link on AO3 for the series @creativwit and I have created (titled the Eskel Fluff Dump, to go with our Eskel Whump Dump, because we’re creative like that). 

Lambert knows that today is not a good day for Eskel when he sees his brother trudging into the kitchen, hair still tousled from where it rested on his pillow all night, and still in his cotton braies and shirt he always wears to bed. Eskel isn't in the habit of not cleaning up before breakfast. In fact, on most occasions when Lambert came down for breakfast Eskel will have been awake for hours already, either getting a headstart on his chores or reading in the library. Not today, it seems. Today Eskel looks like shit.

And Lambert tells him that in the nicest, most caring way possible.

"You, brother, look like you've been dragged by a zeugl through the shitty sewers of both Novigrad and Oxenfurt."

Lambert's easy banter, meant to lighten Eskel's sour mood, only earns him a raised middle finger in response. Which is strange in and of itself, because Eskel is not one for rude gestures. Eskel can destroy a man's reputations using only his words and wit. Lambert knows because he's witnessed it once in his lifetime and to this day the innkeep in Ard Carraigh will let anyone who mentions the name Eskel sleep and eat for free in his establishment.

"Okay, tough crowd," Lambert clicks his tongue once, wrecking his brain for a way to engage Eskel. The latter picks up an apple and a jug of water (at least Lambert hopes it's water and not ale… or vodka) before shuffling out of the kitchen again without sparing Lambert a glance or a word.

Strange. Lambert really should investigate.

__________

"Hey Geralt!"

"Lambert."

Lambert finds Geralt in the stables mucking out Roach's stall. Lambert makes sure to pat his own gelding on the nose in greeting before addressing his brother again.

"Seen Eskel this morning?" Lambert asks casually, as if he's not still internally freaking out at just how terrible their brother looked this morning. Geralt glances up at Lambert briefly, and if Lambert wasn't as well-versed in Geralt's body language he would have missed the concern flash in his yellowish eyes.

"Briefly as he was heading down for breakfast."

"Alright. So maybe you can tell me what crawled up his ass and died there?"

Geralt shrugs his shoulders and resumes his shovelling motion.

"He didn't speak much."

"Exactly. Usually he at least spares a good morning. Not even that! He flipped me off this morning," Lambert adds for emphasis, because if Geralt is unwilling to see the severity of the situation then Lambert will make him see it.

"You probably had it coming."

"Beside the point, as usual, pretty boy. Eskel doesn't do shit like that."

"He's only human. Every man has a breaking point."

Lambert throws his hands up in the air dramatically and rolls his eyes at Geralt in an exasperated manner. How does the bard do it, Lambert wonders! It's like Geralt is doing his best to be dense.

"Fine! If you're no help, maybe papa Vesemir will know."

With those words, Lambert leaves the stables and heads straight for the library where he's sure to find the old man.

__________

"No Lambert, I haven't seen Eskel this morning," Vesemir informs him without looking up from the book he's reading, "though I heard him toss and turn all night."

"Probably why he went back to bed this morning after I saw him," Lambert muses. Vesemir looks up then, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Eskel went back to bed?" the old witcher asks, worry barely noticeable in his tone but Lambert just knows . "That's not like him."

"Exactly what I thought."

"Did he say anything to you when you saw him?"

Lambert describes their encounter to Vesemir and watches the man's frown deepen when Lambert mentions that Eskel didn't even bother to get dressed. So Lambert isn't crazy. It is odd seeing Eskel this way.

"This is peculiar," Vesemir comments when Lambert is done, "very peculiar. Did you three drink last night?"

"Nope." Lambert probably takes too much pride in that single statement. So what? He's not drank a drop in two days, where's his medal? "Nope, we all had an early night. Unless Eskel hides a stash of secret alcohol and fisstech from us. If he does, then Vesemir can you please tell him that it's rude not to share with his brothers?"

Vesemir rolls his eyes at that statement, but the worried frown doesn't subside. Lambert is starting to feel agitated himself. If Eskel isn't willing to talk to any of them, if he's intent on avoiding all of them, then how is Lambert supposed to help? Suddenly, an idea hits him.  He manages a quick "Be right back!" in Vesemir's general direction before he leaves the library. He takes the steps two by two and jumps down the last five before dashing to the stables once again. Geralt is long gone, but that doesn't matter. Lambert doesn't need pretty boy's help to carry out his plan.

__________

"Come on, you stupid son of a bitch," Lambert curses as he tries to tie a leash around Lil Bleater's neck, "your dad needs some goat loving!"

Lil Bleater bleats indignantly, then hisses and coughs at him. Lambert didn't even know goats could do that! Creatures from hell they are, he thinks to himself as he grabs Lil Bleater by the horns when she tries to headbutt him in the family jewels.

"You little shit! How are you so tame around Eskel? What does he do to earn your love, she-devil?"

Lil Bleater manages to dislodge her head from Lambert's grasp and once again aims straight for his nuts. Lambert is quick enough to dodge, the Goddess be blessed, and the goat catches him in the thigh instead. Behind him, Lambert hears Scorpion huff and nicker at his predicament. Lambert glares at the stallion over his shoulder.

"I swear to the Gods, you're no horse! Admit it! You're a person trapped in the body of a horse."

Scorpion whinnies in response, then turns his back on Lambert to eat his oats in peace. Lambert will maintain that Scorpion is no regular horse until the day he dies. That horse is far too clever for his own good! Lambert puts those thoughts to one side for the time being. He's got an angry goat to tame. Maybe he should get Geralt to help?

Lambert heaves a sigh. The things he'll do for his brother.

__________

Lambert resorts to using Axii to get the she-devil inside the keep, past Vesemir's attention and up the stairs to Eskel's room. Whatever it is that's troubling Eskel, Lambert is convinced that a cuddle from his faithful Lil Bleater will chase all the dark thoughts away. At least Lambert hopes it will. He's not sure how easily he can sneak a horse into the keep. Yes, Scorpion is his plan B. Your point?

When Lambert reaches Eskel's door, he lifts Axii and tightens his grip on the leash in case Lil Bleater attempts a flash escape. The goat takes several seconds to gather her wits and get her bearings, but to Lambert's surprise she doesn't bleat, or scream, or cough or hiss, when she sees him standing so close to her. Instead, she stares at Eskel's bedroom door and her little tail starts wagging furiously. Aha. So she's been here before, has she? Eskel, Eskel… what would papa Vesemir say?

Lambert knocks on the door, a small smile gracing his lips when he sees the goat bounce around him in excitement. Alright, even Lambert has to admit that the thing is cute when she's not trying to headbut him in the nuts.

"Eskel?"

"Go away," comes the muffled response.

"Alright I will, but first there's someone here who wants to see you."

Lil Bleater chooses this exact moment to let out a heartbroken bleat. Her human is right there, behind this very door, so why isn't she getting to see him yet? Lambert's grin grows when he opens the door and lets the goat run inside the room, heading straight for Eskel's bed. She leaps onto the mattress easily, like she's probably done countless times before. Eskel, who is currently buried under the covers, shifts when he feels Lil Bleater lick at his face. A large hand comes to pet her behind the ear, causing Lil Bleater's tail to wag even more energetically than before.

"Hey girl," Lambert hears Eskel greet her, the gravel in his voice completely gone, "hey, watcha doin' up here?"

"Let's just say uncle Lambert knew that her dad wasn't feeling up to human interaction today, so he thought he'd bring in the big guns."

Eskel peeks at Lambert over his shoulder and his expression softens. He still looks like shit - dark rings under his eyes, hair sticking out, and the funky smell in the room tells Lambert Eskel hasn't opened a window in, oh, probably decades. But despite all of this, there's a smile tugging at the edges of Eskel's lips when Lil Bleater insistently licks at his scars.

"Thank you," he whispers sincerely, "for understanding."

"Hey brother, what is family for? If you need us we'll be about the keep somewhere."

Eskel nods before curling up under the covers again. Lil Bleater finally settles as well and plops down next to Eskel, nestled in the warm spot created by Eskel pulling his legs halfway up to his chest in a foetal position. Lambert's smirk softens into a smile at the sight. Eskel and Lil Bleater, friends for life. Lambert gently closes the door behind him and gives the two some well-deserved privacy.

As Lambert heads downstairs again, whistling a happy tune on his way, he can't help but feel grateful that he doesn't have to resort to his plan B.