#i just don't have any fully thought out scenes for those

[bunnysbrainrot]

Size Matters

Kinktober Prompt: Size kink

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, oral (f receiving), creampie (wrap it up, kids), dirty talk, rough sex, dom Sam, fluffy/funny aftercare (it’s crucial)

Summary: Your plan for making the boys dinner goes awry, leaving you alone with Sam in his bedroom, and coming to terms with a kink that only Sam Winchester can fulfill.

A/N: 🤭

"C'mon,' you strain, reaching for a high shelf in the cabinet. Apparently Sam and Dean didn't find a need for a stepladder in the bunker. Your calves screech in protest as you reach for a jar of pasta sauce, your fingers brush the bottle, but not enough purchase to grab it.

A long arm reaches above your head, grabbing the sauce in a large, familiar hand. Sam hands you the jar with a smile.

You took it from his hands and chide, "Not everyone's as vertically gifted as you and your brother, you know. Y'could be more inclusive and invest in a stepstool."

He leans against the counter you'd been setting ingredients on. Sam's eyes scan over your form as you open the pasta sauce.

"You know you can ask us for help, right?"

"I was gonna make dinner for us, I didn't want to make you guys help me," you reply Sam stands fully now and looks over your shoulder. You crane your neck to look up at him, "How's the weather up there?"

Sam chuckles lightly, "You know, I could tease you about your height. It'd be pretty easy."

You turn back to the counter and place freshly-washed vegetables on a cutting board. Unsheathing a knife from the knife block, you keep conversation with Sam.

"I don't have a problem with being short," you bump your hip sideways into Sam's leg. He does the same to you, except the direct strike in the ribs knocks you off balance, stumbling over.

He's able to snatch you up to safety before you bust your ass on the floor. Now cradled in Sam's arms, a rush of comfort comes over you in his stable grip. His hands catch your waist, with his long fingers spreading broad across your torso. Fuck, together they could probably go around most of your waist, and those fingers...

You snap out of your stupor to find Sam smiling down at you. His eyes linger on yours long enough for your mind to wander, wondering who would lean in first. Stolen glances at each other's lips, hitched breath, low-lidded eyes, it was a perfect concoction for Sam to kiss you.

Beneath him, you're so delicate in his arms, as if you'll break if he isn't careful. It was in his own reflexes to catch you, but the feelings that rushed through him afterwards were something deeper. Almost instinctive that in any moment with you like this, hushed and ogling, would lead to something more. Forget dinner, he thought, he could just order something for delivery.

At least, after he's done with you.

"Sam," you whisper. Maybe you hadn't been paying attention, but his face is now just inches from your own.

He finds himself leaned over further, close enough to share the same air, breaths mixing.

You smile nervously, and to your relief Sam gives one of his own. But he doesn't break away - doesn't help you to your feet to cut vegetables for the dinner you were kindly making for him. It couldn't matter much now that he's holding you like this.

"Sorry," he replies, barely audible. You wave your hands in dismissal and place them around his neck. The air shifts as the movement brings you ever closer, your lips no more than three inches away from Sam's.

"It's okay," you whisper. Soft, hazel eyes wander over your face and flicker to your lips, seemingly stuck there until Sam takes a risk he'd been waiting for.

Relief washes over you when his lips meet yours. After all this time, it turns out that he had the guts to break this tension, and everything that had been bottled up could now overflow. You let a deep hunger overtake your body, purely going on instinct as Sam embraces you. Sam sighs into your kiss and swallows a moan it drew from your throat, whiny and eager.

Sam nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it tentatively with his teeth. You do the same in response, only harder. Testing the waters. Usually a dangerous game, especially with a Winchester.

Your hands had made their way to his broad shoulders - his lean muscles flexing and stretching as he moves his hands over you, meandering from your waist, spanning from your shoulder blades to the top of your ass. His fingers toy with the fabric of your clothes, like he was trying to unwrap a present too early and didn't want to rip the packaging.

“Not here,” Sam says, his words slurring like a love-drunk fool, “Can’t do this here.”

He breaks the kiss and leaves you panting for more; there's a new darkness in his stare, one that makes you shudder. You give him a smile, wiggling in his grip to the pasta sauce jar, and shut it closed.

“What about dinner?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You seem like you have other plans.”

He was caught red handed, but you weren’t declining the advances. If anything you spurred them on as much as he did.

Sam slowly releases you from his grip, setting you stably on your feet. Not once have his eyes left you, even if you weren’t paying attention - Sam was set on this goal, you’d given him the ‘yes’ he needed, and he intended to make good on his commitment.

Patience was wearing thin for Sam. He ogles at the sight of you bent at the waist, putting the pasta sauce and veggies back in the fridge. The curve of your ass sucks him in whole, as if there were nothing else in the room.

A hand settles on your ass from behind, cupping and kneading gently. You let out a shuddering exhale before standing and turning to Sam.

The softness of your voice surprises you, “Where do you want me?”

The ball was in his court. Sam looks you over coolly, his hands kept to themselves in his pants pockets. Your eyes drift lower and pause on the large bulge in Sam’s pants, straining slightly against his thick jeans.

“My bedroom,” he said plainly.

—

There was little time to brace yourself for Sam’s next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.

Sam grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as Sam juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy.

There was nothing small about Sam Winchester - he's a Goliath of a man, towering over you at any given time, with thick broad muscles that send a rushing heat to your sex. If your intrusive thoughts ever won, you were sure he could toss you around like it was nothing.

But now, you didn’t have much choice but to stay pinned to the wall, where you and Sam both grind your hips desperately, letting out lilted moans and grunts against each other’s skin.

The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Sam's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he emphasized. You shook your head at him. You wouldn’t break so easily, but if anyone were to shatter you apart, it could happily be Sam.

Your lips found his ear, after staining yourself up his long torso, “I’m not gonna break that easily, don’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah?” his voice deepened as his lips found your neck, eagerly nipping at your skin and making you whine. "Let's test that theory."

You gripped the hem of your shirt and shimmied it over your head, casting it to the floor carelessly.

Sam’s eyes trail over your chest, still beautifully bound by your bra. Their softness served as an undeniable invitation for his mouth to lower. He dips his head to greedily nip and suckle at the supple skin, leaving red and purple splotches in his wake.

You grip at his hair, urgently tugging him closer, as if the direct contact could never be enough to satisfy. Each of your soft moans is echoed with a low groan from Sam’s chest. He had doubled over, completely encapsulating you in his clean scent, now thick with a lustful musk.

Two fingers found the band of your bra, unclipping it with the utmost ease, and cast it to the floor with your shirt. Through panting breaths, Sam works off his shirt, though his lips have no hesitation to return to your exposed chest, and found a pebbled nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting to bring out a symphony of moans from the both of you.

Your hands lunged for the waistband of your pants. Sam took notice and sighs happily against your skin, his warm breath like a gentle wave across everything you'd exposed to him. Above you, Sam grew more unhinged with each passing second, grabbing and biting and kneading your flesh like a man starved.

Sam's lips capture yours once more in a tangle of tongues and teeth, exploring one another as if it was your only chance to do so. His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth, swallowing a deep moan that erupts from deep within your chest. He assesses your position and grows frustrated. It would be difficult to remove your, or his, pants without risking dropping you to the floor.

As quickly as you'd been slammed into the wall, Sam tosses you onto his bed, but stays standing at its foot, his hands reaching for his belt buckle. All else in the room vanished as you watch him remove the thick denim, shoving it down his legs to the floor. His cock strained against his boxers, throbbing and twitching to be free.

"Those," Sam nodded his head to your pants, "off."

The sudden dominance springs you into action. Your hands fly to your waistband and wiggle them off of your hips, down your thighs, and kick them away. Your soaked panties act as your final barrier, barring you from what you so badly needed.

Sam returns to his hunched position over you, letting his hands rove over your exposed thighs and ass, pawing at you greedily. You reach down to the band of his boxers, and slip your fingers under the elastic, inching them down until you felt a resistance against it - Sam's cock fights against the removal, straining your short arms until Sam reaches down to aid you.

The head of his cock springs up to smack against your covered core. You gasp softly at its warmth, your neglected cunt tightens around nothing of substance, an empty hole aching to be filled with something substantial.

"Feel." This was Sam's only order as he tugs your hand down to his length, coaxing you to wrap your small fingers around the middle of his shaft.

He's thick and warm against your palm, with a thick vein creeping up its underside to the tip. Your mouth waters at the way his cock twitches eagerly in your hand, and you slowly begin to pump along his length, making Sam hiss through his teeth.

Sam's voice is lower than you'd ever heard; it sends a heat directly to your teased pussy, now bracing against the base of Sam's cock. Its length covers most of your abdomen, casting your body in its silhouette in the dim lamplight of the room.

"Jesus..." he remarks wistfully, trailing a free hand up to his tip, pressing into the soft flesh of your belly.

Beneath him like this, Sam can finally see the scale of his cock to your insides, mapping out precisely where he'll settle inside of you. You whine softly as his cock drags another stroke over your soaked folds - the abrasion from your underwear was no longer tantalizing, but rather a nuisance.

His breathing becomes ragged, "I need to taste you."

The words shudder through you as Sam's lips work through the valley of your breasts, showering kisses along your middle, and finally he settles between your thighs. Sam places a kiss atop your clit, still kept out of sight by your soaked panties. Two fingers hook into the waistband and tug downward, sliding the soiled garment off of your shaky legs and to the floor behind him.

Cold air strikes your slit as Sam pries it open with two thick fingers, teasing at your aching hole, spreading the wetness around your cunt.

"Are you always this wet when you think about me?" his voice tremors through you. You nod quietly and hold your breath as Sam's head dips lower. All you can see is his rich brown hair cascading over your belly before warmth spread through your core, leaving you moaning at his first touch.

With the way his tongue teased at your clit, Sam may as well have set you ablaze. Your skin radiated a warmth unlike no other, rolling in waves as the cold of the air shocked your most sensitive areas.

"Sam," you whine, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You tug on him gently to push him further.

He pays no mind to your plea, and instead wraps his toned arms under your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his thick tongue. It flicks your clit perfectly, and pairs with his lips as he suckles on the sweet bundle of nerves.

The taste of you makes Sam groan, his cock straining against the mattress beneath him. Above him, your moans and cries are a siren song, calling him to the bottomless sea of his desire. He pictures what lies ahead - you, sprawled on the bed, blissed out from his tongue and cock, sated and sleepy from a relentless pounding.

That image is pasted in his mind as he laps at your cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into your tight entrance, and tasting your innermost parts. You arch your back at his touch, sighing his name like a prayer. His restless tongue toys with your hardening clit as pressure builds in your belly.

Sam creates a rhythm on your clit that sends you unfurling under his touch, mewling and whining and moaning slurred versions of Sam and please and need you. But he refuses to give more. Not until he can taste your release directly on his tongue.

The tightness in your belly snaps, breaking you apart until you're crying Sam's name against your hand, clasped firmly against your mouth. His tongue lolls over your clit even still, skyrocketing the shockwaves of the orgasm and making you whimper. Your slick coats his tongue and fills Sam's senses. All there is is you, your sounds, and your delicious cunt.

"Fuck," mumbles Sam, his voice reverberating through your convulsing sex, clamping down onto nothing.

You whine in response. All thought and sense had escaped your mind, now shattered and cast off to a void in the back of your mind. Sam laps up your juices and swallows, savoring every last drop your body had to offer.

The cold air of the room kisses your exposed cunt as Sam rises to his knees, his heavy cock bobbing above your abdomen.

"So small," he remarks, lining his cock over your stomach and admiring just how much of your body he'd overtake.

You'd surely be sore for days afterward, which sent a flush of pride through his chest. His cock ached to carve you hollow - to leave you gaping after a thorough fucking, to shape your pussy perfectly for him.

His hips rear back as he positions himself with your wet hole, shining with your slick, beckoning him inside. Sam's eyes meet yours when he notches the head of his cock past your entrance, surveying your expressions as he slowly filled you out. The girth of his cock could practically split you down your middle, stretching your little pussy to wrap perfectly around his shaft.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," Sam groans, ogling at his own cock as it spread your pussy open. His hands press against the backs of your thighs and push them toward your chest, angling himself so the both of you could share the view.

He sighs, "Look at that - such a big cock, stretching out your tiny pussy, just for me."

Astonishment, teasing, and lust filled his tone, and something else. Something more primal that has your walls fluttering around Sam's cock.

You gape at the sight of his cock entering you, and you finally come to terms with exactly just how big he is. Your pussy is stretched blissfully wide, swallowing his length with earnest. Sam slams his hips and strikes deep, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

Each thrust is harsher than the last and all you can do is stare at the brutality your pussy is being subjected to. You cry out as Sam's cock crashes into you, every time, without fail.

At this point, there's no hiding the reality of what's behind Sam's bedroom door. If Dean, or anyone else, heard you, let them. Bliss overcomes your senses and dulls all rationality in your muddled mind.

There is nothing else that matters - just the overwhelming size of Sam Winchester and his remarkable cock.

He whispers your name like a summons, meeting his eyes with yours as he presses your body into the mattress. A hand presses into your tummy. Sam gasps softly and takes your hand to replace his own.

"Feel that?" his purrs, pressing onto your hand to deliver some pressure. As he thrusts in you can feel a shift in your insides, until you feel a firm strike of the head of his cock against you palm.

You look to him with wide eyes and find a wicked smile plastered on his face.

Sam crouches over you, enveloping you with his large size, encasing your body with his. He leans toward your ear, "Can you feel it up here, baby? Because I can. I can feel how tiny your cunt is before I go in and stretch it out."

He pushes deeper, to let you really feel it, "I can feel how you try to fit me, and how just tight you're getting, 'cause you're gonna cum, aren't you?"

A dumb nod follows his question, making his grin widen across his lips. No words form on your lips, only shaky wanton moans reply to his commentary.

"I know, sweetheart, feels good," Sam coos, slowing down his movements to draw out a raw cry from your throat. His cock drags through your walls until its head is all that remains, and slams in harshly.

Your cry is on the verge of a scream, but Sam does not relent. There is no plea to stop or slow down, because this is all you'd been dreaming of - to feel a comforting helplessness under someone far larger, to be at their disposal and usage.

A growl leaves his throat, "So fucking small... I bet you feel like you could break, huh? With my cock this deep inside you, your little pussy can barely take any more, can it?"

Your walls clench around him in reply, pulling Sam in deeper until his balls slap against your ass, now pairing with the obscene squelching of your abused pussy.

Between the lilting moans and quieted pleas from your perfect mouth, Sam issn't sure how much longer he can last. He vows to himself that he will not give in to it yet, not until he feels it. He needs to feel the way you wrap around his cock when you cum.

He needs to be the reason you finish, this time and each orgasm after.

"You've been waiting for this. You've wanted this the whole time - someone big and strong to pound your little pussy 'til you can't stand. Because you want a thick cock splitting you open." Sam stammers through the last few words - his own comments are bringing him closer to the brink, but you've already reached yours.

You shudder around him harshly as your orgasm hits you full-force, leaving you no room to ride it out as Sam's pace quickens. His breath hitches at the sensations flowing through his throbbing length - he hisses when you clench around his sensitive tip, leaving his gasping as he fucks you faster. Harder. Deeper.

His cock plunges into your cunt, hitting that same spot in your tummy as he mentioned before. Sam's hand presses against your abdomen, adding a glorious pressure that has you climaxing again in a matter or seconds.

"Thaaaat's it, attagirl," he encourages. "Such a tight little cunt, but she takes me so well."

The words flow through you like fire, sending you over the brink once again and leaving you whimpering beneath him. Sam smirks, knowing he's doing his job right, he has you exactly where he wants you, pinned, helpless, and impossibly full.

"Please... S-Sam," you whisper.

He laughs, pounding you so roughly you can barely brace for the slam against your cervix, "Can't handle it, can you, baby? I thought you said you don't break easily."

Your soft cries reach his ears as you slip into that thoughtless void of your mind, moaning with each strike.

Sam's lips brush over the shell of your ear, "You think you're so strong, but I'll break you. I'll have your cunt so bruised you can't think about anything else - only me, because this pussy is mine, do you understand?"

A reply doesn't come, only the sounds of your moans fill his ears. Sam delivers a harsh slap to your ass, thrusting his cock as deep as he could manage. You let out a long moan but still don't reply.

"Who's pussy is this?"

The words form on your lips and fall out feebly, "Y-yours."

He kisses your forehead, but does not let his hips falter, "That's right, angel. All mine."

Pressure builds in his abdomen, his balls growing tight as his own release crept up from behind. Sam nips at your earlobe, his words clang through you with a primal desire.

"And since this pussy's mine, I'm going to fill it."

The swift relentless pace resumes, crashing into your hips to verge on soreness, your tight cunt still wrapping perfectly around him, and Sam's name falling past your slacked mouth. Sam's eyes screw shut as his own orgasm finally approaches, and his cock begins to twitch.

He unsheathes his cock from your warm walls, aiming directly at your now gaping pussy. Sam pumps himself fervently as his cum spurts from his cock, right into your stretched hole. You stare in awe as his cum seeps into your cunt, the angle of your hips inviting it all in.

Sam hisses, "Keep it all in there."

You pant as you try to recover yourself, but Sam plunges his cock into you again, making you let out a low, drawn-out moan. He strikes as deeply as before, his movements are urgent, borderline predatory, insistent to have you bred nicely.

"Keep it in there, and don't you dare fucking waste it."

His movements start to slow - the thrusts are languid and gentle until Sam finally pulls himself out of your abused pussy. He grips your thighs and lowers them until you can finally breathe freely again, gasping in the cool, refreshing air.

"There you go. Deep breaths, honey," Sam coaxes, running his hands along your sore hips, massaging gently into the aching flesh. You do as you're advised and calm your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Sam did the same until he slumped into the mattress next to you, groaning into the sheets.

You smile lazily at him, "You okay over there?"

Sam nods into the bed, still letting out a low groan, "Y'fuckin' drained me."

Pride wells in your chest. You giggle at him, earning you a playful slap on your thigh. Your giggle turns into a hearty laugh before you nestle next to Sam, eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. He takes notice and nudges you.

"Bathroom, no UTI's for us today."

You retort, "Sam, I don't think I can even walk properly right now."

He shifts and rises from the bed, scooping you into his arms and lifting you to his chest. Your laughs echo around the room as Sam Winchester takes you to the bathroom, ever the gentleman.

Hi! Thank you all for your patience as i get out of my lil' brain funk. I hope you enjoyed!

If you liked this fic, reblog to show others! Who cares if we're depraved little animals?? don't you just wanna go apeshit???

anyways ily, and i hope this fic gets the love it needs cause i had a wonderful time writing it >:3

[kaivenom]

Party Animals

Summary: you were drunk on a party and doing crazy things, next morning you think you made a huge mistake, but ends up being that it was the push you needed.

Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x reader

Warnings: drunk people

A/N: conmemoring the release of season two of this amazing show (Heartbreak High) i have the need of writting about Spider and Ant, so expect about them the next days.

Masterlist

Like always, Spider was being the soul of the party, drinking, dancing, laughing and being an absolutely pain in the ass. He was going around with Ant while you were in your corner drinking. He had been giving you small glances all night, it was frustrating because he will surely get to you and be an absolute asshole.

As if he had read your mind, Spider started to get close to where you are. You can't deny that he looks really hot with the lights of the club and that look on his face. It looked almost like he was possesed while he walks towards you. His eyes didn't leave yours once he notices you watching him.

After what looked like an eternity, he laid himself on the wall next to you, he was probably drunk, just like you... maybe that's why you can't decide if you want to go and ignore him or stay here and see what happens.

"Hi." what a gentlemen you thought.

"Hi, why are you here?"

"Ant is my friend, he throws the party."

"I mean next to me, asshole, you don't quite like me."

"That's not right," he is looking at you so serious that you feel he is looking into your soul, "I may treat you a little bad but i treat everyone like that, the other thing is that you are different."

"Wow, that's your strategy to try to have sex with me?" clearly alcohol is kicking you both.

"Maybe."

"And why do you think i will be with you?"

"Nothing, but trying it's free and i know you wouldn't do it in any other situation."

His face is closer to you every second, looking to your lips with a dreamy glance. For the first time you considered kissing him, you already thought about it but know you were starting to see it as a real posibility. You both were now really close, you can almost feel Spider's heat body, he was radiating an exciting warmth.

You don't know why but started to lift your hand and touch slowly his face, he closed his eyes almost instantly, savoring every second of your touch. Suddently his hand wrapped your waist and push you fully on to his body, now your lips are brushing and your breaths start to mix together.

"Tomorrow we can forget about this," he said before smashing his lips to yours.

His lips were soft and tasted sweet, you didn't spected that at all since you two were drinking for so long. Your hands running all over each other's bodies. Suddently you were trapped between the wall and Spider's embracing body. His lips traveling all the way up and down your neck, you were thankfull that the music was drowning your sounds.

You continued like that for a bit longer, lips pressed and bodies grinding onto each other, you didn't want that to end but suddently Darren appeared on scene.

"(Y/N)!!! we have to go, Amelie got us in problems," both of you were slow at processing what Darren said, "let's go, if you go now i won't say about this."

Darren's face showed their disgust really well, but hearing those words made you restart you breain and realize your actions. You got out of Spider's grip while he was still in shock and runned with Darren. At the end you didn't know if you run because of Amelie or because of your actions.

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

You spent all weekend coping with the embarrasment of what you've done and when the monday came, you decided to avoid Spider. That worked for three hours until he cornered you outside class.

"Hi."

"Hi, i need to go," this time you couldn't get away from him.

"No, we need to talk."

"You said we could forget it and i hope to do that, because we were drunk and we made mistakes."

"I don't consider it a mistake," you couldn't believe him but he was looking at you again, with those glowy eyes, "I know what i said but it was mostly to get you to kiss me but i... i can't forget about it and i don't want to do it because i dream about it a lot."

"You are saying you already thought about it?" his face was really red.

"Ye-Yeah..." he apparently doesn't know how to continue, you kissed his cheek, that was the only thing you thought of doing.

"I dreamed about it too." his face lightened up, before passing to a prideful smirk.

"So we can go out and take it where we left off."

"No, we will take it right and slow, and if we are going to start dating or something, you need to stop being a pain in the ass."

"I will do it if you give me a incentive to do it."

The bell rang and you surely know that your friends will be seeking for you, you kiss his cheek again and give him a little peck on the lips that left him static on place.

[ecoamerica]

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[daisybianca]

pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. PART TWO. Here's part 1.

warnings: smut, female pleasuring, cursing words

(a/n): here's part 2 because you seemed to love the first one! <333

"I SUPPOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO BEG FOR IT."

Seb's face morphed into a full grin as he exclaimed the words.

Beg for it.

You felt your cheeks growing even hotter--if that was even possible with a fever and him in a room with you. Completely alone.

You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him. His hands were still on your thighs, and you did everything you could to ignore them.

"So, you don't want to kiss me." You said, more like announcing it yourself.

You knew he probably wanted to kiss you, but you teased him anyway, just like he teased you all those years.

You turned your head to face the wall next to you, not looking at the German man in front of you because you'd be willing to participate in every activity he would suggest, including begging for it.

"I want to kiss you, babe." He whispered, and you soon felt his hot breath brush against the flesh of your thigh. "But I don't intend to make it that easy, as I said before. I am a man of my word."

Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

You couldn’t resist that.

His hand found your back, and he started removing your shorts. "Is that okay?"

Those puppy eyes...

"Yes." You replied and fully removed your shorts. "But if you think I'm actually going to beg for your dick, you will be very disappointed."

His lips twitched as he brought his palms up to your thighs. They trembled under his touch, and you clenched them to hide the shiver.

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Who said anything about my dick?"

"Then what exactly do you expect me to beg you for--"

His fingers gripped the edges of her underwear and pulled it down at once.

Seb took his time, turning the removal of your clothes into a long and drawn-out event.

You could barely stand his soft touches and his sly glances.

"I don't like this game." You stated, sighing. You were getting more and more impatient with each passing second, and you were just getting started.

He removed your shirt and spread your thighs even more. "I'm sure I can change your mind soon enough."

You froze as he pressed his palm to your breast and pushed back, pulling you to his face.

Oh, my God.

A scene like that could bring any woman to orgasm all by itself, you thought to yourself.

With the way your lower body was throbbing, it wouldn't take much to make you come. Especially with the way those gorgeous, blue eyes were looking at you and the way his hair unwittingly caressed you body.

Your whole body was buzzing as his tongue touched your soft spot, teasing you shameless. You arched your back in response, and your thighs almost mechanically squeezed his head between them.

Seb's laughter made your clit vibrate. His fingers tightened the quilt as he destroyed your ability to think of anything but his tongue diving into you in shameless movements.

Yep, that was the word to describe this very moment.

Shameless.

What whould papa say if he knew his childhood best friend fucked his beloved daughter with his tongue at her apartment, while thinking she was very sick and could barely walk.

I'm sure I will indeed be able to barely walk after this kind of beautiful torture, you thought.

The mere thought of your father finding out made you shiver, but Seb almost immediately sensed the tension and drove his miraculous tongue deeper into you.

You were sure as hell you had never been so turned on in your brief life.

Everything about him was sensual, from the way his nails dug into your thighs as he licked heryou, to the way he looked at you when a moan escaped.

It was all gone when suddenly you felt a finger sink into you."Oh, fuck!"

"Language, babe." He said, leaving your spot for a few moments.

His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking the spot there.

He deliberately stopped every time you neared climax.

You cursed him in the same sentence that you praised him.

You almost broke down and begged him to let you finish what he had started, but you managed not to.

If he expected you to break, he would be very surprised.

As if he didn't know how stubborn you were.

"It's a simple word." He chuckled and stepped away from Seb for a few moments. "Say it."

Your clit ached, begging for the mercy that he would not give you.

You grabbed the sheets tight. "No."

With a word from you, you could win the keys to heaven itself.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Again, you heard Seb's voice.

"Because I'm my father's daughter." You barely managed to blur out.

You couldn't stand it any longer. Your hair was a torrent of messy curls and it was flowing haphazardly around you.

It was just a word.

An innocent, little word.

"Please." Your cheeks were wet with the tears you didn't know had fallen.

His laughter sent another wave of arousal through you.

Fuck.

You groaned as he inserted a second finger inside you, twisting both so that they slid over your G-spot.

The way he sucked yout clit combined with the torture of his fingers pushed you to the edge.

Your body shook uncontrollably as he continued to control you with his tongue.

He played with yout body like his favorite toy, pulling your orgasm as far as possible.

Your voice was hoarse as you cried out his name, and he not only liked that.

It drove him crazy.

He would hear that dreamy, soft little voice pronounce his name even in his sleep and dreams and nightmares.

"Seb..." You moaned.

His fingers gripped you as he pulled you forward, pushing his tongue deeper into you. You caressed his hair as he made you chase your second orgasm. "Fuck..."

He abandoned your clit and pulled you into his arms.

You muffled your cries as his mouth clamped over your, drawing another shuddering breath from you.

He was kissing you.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head forward, and felt his soft lips against yours.

You stopped to face him for a while, immediately missing his lips on yours. "Seb?"

"Yes, love?"

"How do I taste like?"

A laughter escaped, and you couldn't help but smile as well. "You taste like mine."

[ronearoundblindly]

Midnight Kiss

Steve Rogers x reader

Just a little ditty in honor of the upcoming holiday. Warnings for suggestive language and bad puns. It's just cute, awkward, and chivalrous...until it isn't. If you couldn't deduce it from the title: they kiss lol. WC 1.5k+

He's happy to see the team having fun, but this isn't exactly Steve's 'scene.' Granted, his 'scene' flew the coop long ago, when his generation aged out of large, raucous celebrations, or rather, Steve never had any true social scene because he never really lived .

He's still trying, he swears; it's just...

really. damn. loud.

The lights are somehow too dim and too bright all at once. Everyone is happy and blitzed and dressed to the nines and leaning on the closest stable object. Any minute now, he'll bow out and call it a--

There's an ear-piercing cackle from a woman in a '2024' gold-streamered headband not two yards to his right, and she tips backwards, shoving an innocent passerby straight into his solid side.

"Sorry," you squeak, rolling your eyes because the word wasn't loud enough to shame the drunk woman beside you, but you're facing him, too, unable to see she's about to make it worse.

The woman snorts and laughs harder, toppling over because her party of friends have the reaction time of sloths, their hands full of dainty champagne flutes and mini-snacks.

Steve instinctively pulls you out of the way, his broad, strong arm wrapping your waist and pinning you to him.

"Oof," you grunt in alarm, the woman's drink spilling over your shoulder.

Hors d'oeuvres, Steve thinks sullenly, that's what people call them these days.

The woman doesn't apologize, and neither do her friends.

He counts a full five seconds before anyone in the small group even raises a hand to help the woman still giggling on the floor. Mostly, Steve is now concerned with the glass shards near your feet.

He's all for having fun, he's all for letting off a little steam, but he is not a fan of sloppiness. That's not a generational trait; that's simple courtesy.

"Ok, 'nough of this," he mutters, an itchy irritation scurrying up his body while he tries not to take over care of the woman. Instead, he checks your legs with a glance, sees the open toes of your strappy sandals, and hoists you into his arms.

He walks away from the bar, sound of crunching fading with each step, and finds a tiny bench--the only spot not occupied--where he can set you down.

Steve can't hear your shock or protest because his blood races past his ears. That was the last straw. He's annoyed now.

"Stay there," he commands, putting up a finger that gets shockingly close to touching your lips since you leaned in to speak. "I'm getting some napkins."

The bartender is oblivious, and why should he not be? The man is one of two serving over a hundred guests, give or take, for hours and hours. Steve doesn't bother getting his attention. He stretches a long arm over the bar top and grabs a stack of cocktail napkins.

It might as well be toilet paper.

He dabs and dabs at the sleeve of your dress, but the napkins dissolve and turn to damp pills. In his day, those results would make excellent spitballs to pass the time in class. They aren't so trendy on your black velvet.

"I thought this would work." He doesn't know what else to do but keep dabbing, so he anxiously continues, not noticing the precarious proximity to your chest until you put a hand on his.

You have kind eyes, he thinks, even though he can't fully make out their color in the mood lighting.

"Please, don't--" finally one of the woman's group yells over a quick sorry "--don't bother with that," you finish. "It's just a dress. You can go back to your people, Captain."

He scrunches his brow. He sometimes wants to introduce himself; he wouldn't always use his rank, but he rarely gets that luxury. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Was heading out anyway. I'll just sit a sec and then leave."

Sounds like the highlight of my night--leaving.

Instead, Steve stands to his full height and scans the busy room for any of his team. He shrugs to himself since, who's he kidding, no one will miss him if he disappears early. He's put in the appearance. He's made enough small drunk talk. Yikes, does he wish alcohol still affected him...

"I'll walk you out," he offers, careful to modulating his volume when one song abruptly ends and another starts lower.

At first, you don't take his hand, and your first two steps seem sturdy.

Then your weight crumples after a deep hiss.

Steve has you back up and carried to the bathroom in a flash. It's lit so he can actually see and muffled so he can actually hear, thank goodness.

Glass did sneak into your shoe, and it easily poked through the ball of your foot. He's so quick to find it that not one whole drop of blood has even eased out of the wound by the time he's pulling the shard out. His bare hands pinch the sizable chunk.

He's careful, slow, and gentle. He's also a touch proud that you make very little fuss, only squirming in discomfort while he works.

"All better," he says, dropping the glass into the trash bin. "We'll just wash it and...you alright?"

You're already pushing yourself off the counter top.

"You shouldn't put weight on it yet." Steve gingerly lifts your leg at the knee to keep the foot from touching the bare tile floor.

"Yeah, but--" you make a face "--you set me down in water."

Steve's eyes bug out. "I--oh gosh--so sorry, I--let me--" there are no paper towels, only an air dryer "--shit."

Defeated by modernity again, he sighs. "I just...I can get more napkins and maybe a first aid kit from--"

The crowd outside is starting to yell. They're counting, backwards, and there's no way anyone will understand what he's asking for in that chaos.

"Ten!"

Steve meets your eyes.

"Nine!"

He can see their full color now and that your dress isn't black. It's a very, very dark maroon velvet. Wetness is easily visible though, since your sleeve seems fully black at the shoulder.

"Eight!"

He points to the door. "Somebody I can get for you?"

You shake your head.

Not that he was fishing for your relationships status, but he's encouraged nonetheless.

"Seven!"

"Only me," you shrug, "braving the party for a thrill..."

"Same."

"Six!"

"How was the year?" he cracks with a smile.

You tilt your head. He's distracted by the cute gesture.

"Five!"

He stares.

"Four!"

"Not great," you admit.

Steve thinks while he stares.

"Three!"

Actually, no, that's a lie. He doesn't think; he just acts.

"Tw--"

He swoops in, big palms cradling each side of your face, soft lips pressed to yours for just an instant, but only because he wants more.

Unless tortured, Steve Rogers will never admit that he didn't plan for one instant where his tongue was not involved. He absolutely wants to taste you. He absolutely wants to own you, just for these few seconds. He absolutely wants to hear you moan in encouragement, the sound crystal clear in isolation from the party.

The roar of the crowd is soft static compared to that racing blood of his.

He pushes himself closer, his bent arms getting in his way, so Steve props up with a palm on the--oh wow, that is wet--counter. His thumb touches the soggy velvet covering your hip and thigh.

He'll buy you a whole new dress if only you lace your fingers in his hair, if only you take his bottom lip between your teeth, if only you whine just like that again.

By 'again,' he means in a few seconds, and maybe tomorrow, and, for good measure, whenever after that.

A loud thud on the door knocks him out of his lip-lock trance. It's not a single restroom, so he suspects another overly inebriated patron since no one comes through the door.

But now some sense is knocked into him, too.

He chews on his swollen lips for a moment, nervous to look up. He hopes you don't regret it, and he hopes you know that he does not, can not, and will never regret that kiss.

Your sated sigh breaks the tension after a beat. "Starting this year off right," you mutter, "at least for me..."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, glancing at the door before finally taking in your lounging form, "the gang is gonna love how I ended up in a ladies' bathroom at the stroke of midnight, necking a stranger."

You snort.

"Don't leave out the part where I was wet for you, head to toe, huh?"

Too bad the florescent lights are bright enough to show his raging red blush, but he clears his throat with a deep growl.

"They'll never believe me..."

Steve sweeps you up into his arms again.

"...unless I take you as proof...and to get a bandage, of course."

You snatch up your shoe and purse, but he won't let this Cinderella run off. You'll be right here against him all night.

"Well, go ahead and splash my other shoulder," you tease. "I can't be lop-sided."

Steve grins, already adding more and more things to list of what he'll do for you, to you, and with you. The list can include parties, too, if this is how wonderfully sweet and silly they can all be.

Happy New Year, indeed...

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp (My taglists are all jacked up again, so if you are missing from the list and/or want to be tagged, please let me know!)

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[wispythreads]

I did catch on to that part of it with him bouncing between jobs so frequently, and some of the other things like the fridge freezer, but they were still included in the jumbled up thoughts I listed out partly because I was thinking about them before coming to an answer, and partly because I'm not fully sure if those answers are all there is to it.

Cause, yeah, there’s the newspaper clipping rebuking him for being “unprofessional and brash” (which damn that’s also just rotating in my head because Vince was clearly reading this specific clipping earlier and blatantly lied saying Rody hadn’t been mentioned at all, later scribbling out the section talking about the waiter), he’s very clearly messy and unkempt in pretty much every aspect of his life, and even if he gets the to-go question right in the tutorial, Vince appends the "Good work." with "keep tone in mind."

But, the thing is, he does know a lot of the basics. Much of the tutorial is really just for the benefit of the player to know how the mechanics of the game works, Rody meanwhile nods along and does whatever task is needed without comment, only getting tripped up when Vince mentions the way the menu for his bistro works, and when the aforementioned customer asked if he could get boxes to go or call in his order ahead of time. Which I think are reasonable things to get tripped up on! Those seem like things that would vary depending on the establishment he was working for.

I keep thinking about his reaction when Vince pivoted the conversation of "do you actually like your job" onto Rody. His awkward response that it paid him money. Vince voicing specifically “I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living-”, and that being met with how there was “something” Rody went to school for, that he was too hesitant to tell Vince, feeling he’d get made fun of. The impression that its some passion he had that just didn't work out. The revelation later that the “something” in question was him majoring in hospitality.

He was afraid he'd be made fun of for actively going to school and choosing to study for skills that, either ironically or purposefully, would've been useful for his current job of waiting tables. A goal that he flunked out of. He has had 28 jobs in the service industry over the course of 7 years. He keeps losing his job, but he also keeps getting hired.

I keep thinking of the post-credits scene of the Best Served Hot, whisky lemon cake ending. "I can't keep watching you ruin any semblance of progress you make with yourself while trying to make me happy, it's exhausting-"

He's only 4 days into this job when he approaches Vince for a raise. He already figures he'll have enough to do something nice for Manon, his "girlfriend," by the end of the week, but he wants more to make it really special. He is very clearly told 'no.'

On the 5th day, when his shift is finally over and done, we don't next see him as we usually do, back at his apartment. He's still at the bistro, all the lights turned out. The only other person presumably being Vince hacking away at the meat in the freezer that'll be used for the meals in the morning. The first time I went through that night, I presumed Rody had just been selected to stay late and help clean up for the night, with whatever Vince was doing in the background ominous horror ambience to be unsettled by.

But we can't really do anything while there that would support this initial assumption. There are only two things you can do. Snoop around in Vince's office, and... steal from the cash register. Whether you avoid doing the latter as I did or not, it has no bearing on whatever ending you get, but just the fact that it's even an option to Rody...

How many other times did he allow his love for Manon to rule over his decisions, making choices in the pursuit of what he believed would make her happy, no matter the cost, before finally facing a price for his obsession beyond the scope of his worst nightmares?

...

And after all that I do want to defend the rollerskates a bit because

Rollerskates in restaurants are kinda a thing, in the 1960s (the year this game is set) they were a pretty popular gimmick/tool for diners in the U.S. at least, not sure about elsewhere in the world unfortunately

Yeah he canonically brought and proceeded to wear rollerskates to work at a fancy bistro. But that also means Vince watched him show up to work one day, wearing rollerskates, and just let him do it. Just watched Rody roll around his fancy bistro attending to customers that expect the highest of professionalism, and said nothing.

[muddyorbsblr]

remote consults behind enemy lines [kinktober 2023: formal wear…and role play(?)]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! 'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: 2020, during the filming of Loki Season 1

Summary: You casually reveal that you consulted on costume design for another supersuit, leading to an unexpected reaction from your boyfriend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, don't u dare even try me); kinda public sex; unprotected p in v; role play; clothed sex; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; Reader's wearing a dress; Tom's wearing Loki's coronation armor; mango namedrop (i couldn't resist 🤣)

This was absolute torture in the most devilishly delicious way. Sitting in front of the monitor and watching your boyfriend acting out a scene wherein Loki was about to step in to the role of Crown Prince of Asgard because Thor had "gone missing" due to one of the god's shenanigans turning his brother into a literal frog, wearing the very costume that had the internet running amok with how it made certain parts of him so prominently shaped that Marvel's considerably lower budget back then had to make room for extra editing to keep the final cut family friendly.

You never thought the day would come that you would see him in that costume just mere feet away from you. And to have him take on that majestic stance with his feet shoulder width apart and arms outstretched as he basked in the applause and praise that the people of Asgard were showering him with?

"Fucking end me," you muttered as soon as Kate yelled for them to cut the cameras.

"Okay now I get why they needed the extra CGI budget for that bulge fucking Christ on a crutch," Bryan commented, lightly nudging at your shoulder to snap you out and stop you from shamelessly staring. "Why madam, should I go get you a paper towel or something for that bit of drool at the corner of your mouth?"

"Better get one for yourself as well, Bry. Now stop ogling my boyfriend before I get tempted to check if those prop daggers have any stab in them."

He gave you a playful scandalized look before walking away, making a big show of wiping his sleeve at the corner of his mouth to get a laugh out of you.

You turned back to face the monitor, only to have your face inches away from the 'fabled mango' that had a rather large corner of the internet in absolute shambles whenever a picture would be released that had it in plain view. Your eyes traveled upwards until they met with Tom's ocean blue ones, your boyfriend greeting you with a wide smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes that he was barely trying to keep contained.

"I suggest you take a step back unless you're fully prepared to give all our colleagues a show," you warned him, starting to mirror the expression on his face.

"But this is such an enticing view, sweetheart, why would I want to give it up?" he shot back, fingertips lightly tracing along your jawline. "And I highly doubt that you're fully prepared to give our colleagues a show."

You only responded to him by slowly running your tongue across the top row of your teeth. "Are you sure about that, sweetie?" That made him take a step back, causing you to break out into a wide grin and scrunching your nose at him. "So how's the costume feel?" you asked him while you two walked toward his trailer.

"Surprised it still fits, if I'm being honest," he answered you with a slight laugh. "Actually it might…fit a little better than it did a decade ago."

"Ooh, good you're still here." You both gave Kate a small wave as she jogged up to you. "I was about to tell you to make your way to Costuming to see if you needed any adjustments. Looks like you read my mind." She gave a quick look at your now joint hands, Tom hooking his finger around one of yours. "Y/N, I'm sure you can handle any adjustments he'll need so you two can go and work on that while we're setting up for the shot with the prop frog. And in case you two wanna say hi, Chris will be here today to record his lines as Frog Thor."

As if on cue, you heard a booming voice from several yards away. "Hi, Brother! Hi, tiny terror! Am I gonna be an uncle yet??"

"Not yet, Chris!" you both hollered back at him, making the Australian wave his hand in a jokingly dismissive manner at you before stepping in to the ADR area.

"There is something new about this costume now that I quite like," Tom spoke up again when you were just outside his trailer. "When I first had it, the inner layer under the metalwork used to be just one piece, like a bodysuit. Made it a whole affair just to go to the bathroom. Now it's a shirt and trousers setup and has a suspender mechanism worked into the metal to secure the bottom half in place. Made my day much easier."

"Well you're very welcome, sweetie," you responded absentmindedly, closing the trailer door.

"This was your work, goddess?"

"Uhm...yeah. I did some remote consultation last year for another superhero costume. The actor's main concern was how he'd pee while wearing the thing, so I drew up some sketches, made his suit a bit modular. But it was gonna be a conflict of interest if they got me for costume design considering my involvement with Marvel, so we minimized my work to justify not including my name in the credits."

You let out a tiny yelp feeling him walk behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his nose traced a line from your collarbone to your ear. "Hmm…conflict of interest? So DC, then?" he rasped, nipping at your earlobe.

"Uh huh," you answered him breathlessly, leaning in to his embrace. "What I learned making the sketches for the Batsuit, I adapted into the adjustments for your costumes."

Something in the air shifted once the words left your mouth. His hold on you shifted into what almost felt…possessive. "Precious little mortal." The growl in his voice had you growing weaker in his arms. "Consulting behind enemy lines. For the man that I knew for a fact once held your attention so…fervently."

"Why sweetie, are you--Are you jealous? It was a college crush, and a light one at that." You turned in his arms to pull him into a quick kiss that quickly became heated, his hands moving to the backs of your thighs to lift you off your feet and press you against the wall of his trailer's tight entryway.

"It should matter not, so long as you remember that you are mine," he murmured against your lips, securing your body against the wall before moving to undo the suspenders under the metal armor by his hips. "Do you know what I particularly enjoy about your modifications, sweet Y/N?"

You shook your head at him, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs as he smirked at you, hearing the snap of the suspenders from underneath the armor coming off.

"Ease of access," he said simply, shuffling his pants down his thighs and freeing his quickly hardening length. His smirk widened into a devilish grin when he slipped his hand between your legs to find nearly drenched panties. "So gloriously eager…" he teased, moving the fabric to the side.

A high-pitched moan slipped from your lips when he eased his way into you, inch by torturous inch, in shallow thrusts. "Tom, sweetie I--"

"Thomas isn't here right now, pet."

Oh God. Oh fuck. "Loki?!"

"Such a clever little mortal," he grunted, starting to move in shallow thrusts, the tip of his cock easily brushing against a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars especially from this angle. "Tell me you're mine." He let out a staggered breath, groaning into the crook of your neck as your warmth surrounded him. "T-Tell me who this gloriously tight p-perfect little quim belongs to."

"Y-You--oh f-fuck!" you told him shakily. "I belong to you. I'm yours, I'm all yours."

Obscene moans bounced off the walls of his trailer as he bit and sucked at your neck, working his hand between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit. "Louder, darling. Say my name. Scream it. Let everyone who dares listen know that only I may claim you like this."

Your body started to shake with how hard your climax hit you, your walls fluttering and clenching around him while you let out a guttural scream of "LOKI!" that might've scratched your throat halfway raw. Before you could say it again, he slanted his mouth over yours, muffling both your screams in a heated kiss that felt rife with desperation as you felt his release starting to fill you, his hips jerking in a staggered rhythm.

It barely crossed your mind that this might get you into a heaping pile of trouble. That you might have just put your job at stake for a quickie with your boyfriend. He broke the kiss with a slight gasp, kissing a path from your cheek down to your neck while you both took deep breaths coming down from your high.

When you heard his breaths grow softer you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and upper back, lightly stroking his hair before you tried to talk, the intensity of the last few minutes still having you struggling to form any coherent words. "Tom?"

You felt a slight wave of relief when he answered you softly. "Yes, goddess?"

"Look at me, sweetie." You pressed a soft kiss to his temple before he pulled away from your neck, nearly blacked out eyes meeting your own. "I love you. Only you." Your hands went to frame his face, thumbs tracing along the lines of his cheekbones. "I don't think I'll ever…No one else could ever--"

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in to cut you off with a kiss, the rest of the words you struggled to say dying off with a whimper at the back of your throat. You still couldn't find it in you to say them anyway. You're it for me. You're the last man I'm gonna love. There won't be an 'after you'.

"You know that, right?" you murmured against his lips, settling for those words instead.

"I do." He quickly stole another kiss from you before continuing, "Some days it just gets to me. The thought that someday someone might--"

"That will never happen." You crossed your hands behind his neck, pulling him close enough that he could rest his forehead on yours. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you're kinda stuck with me, sweetie."

"I may want to get that in writing one of these days," he shot back, his hands lightly grasping your sides before he pressed your bodies even closer together, if such a feat were even possible. "And if anything, you're stuck with me. There's no version of my future that I could ever see that doesn't have you with me."

He started to move inside you again, leaving you no choice but to process his words later, his hips moving in long, slow thrusts that had you feeling every devastating inch of him. "Again?" you whimpered breathlessly.

"You should know me well enough by now, goddess," he whispered, a devilish smile gracing his features and searing an image so erotically charged into your memory. "Once is never enough."

That was the day you agreed that quickies would never be an option again moving forward.

A/N: Another Kinktober 2023 story in the bag! Wait hold on…if I knocked out two prompts in this (kinda sorta), does this mean I only have 2 more to go before I get my initial goal or are y'all gonna absolutely snipe me ded if I pull that technicality? 🤣

I know I said 'bath/shower' with Magnus was next but I parallel-wrote that with this and this one got the banging out first while the other still has me blocked because smut is just…it's not my strong suit okay--it takes me 5-7 business days to get it done 🥴 Currently parallel writing that and the Conrad piece for 'slow & soft' and the President Loki piece for 'fingering' all at the same time so only time will tell which one of them will go up next 🫡

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

kinktober 2023 taglist: @azula-karai-27

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Tingling Screeches

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: After having the brilliant idea to watch a movie with your long-term crush at camp, things don't necessarily go your way as you get reminded just how much you hate horror movies.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Horror Movie'

*Gif does not belong to me

Even though it was the middle of the day at Camp Half-Blood, your cabin was empty. Save for you and Clarisse of course. With the artful act of bribery, you were able to convince all of your half brothers and sisters to leave the small building completely empty for the next few hours all so you and Clarisse could watch one of the latest horror movies to come out.

It had taken some time trying to set everything up. Finding someone to supply you with a fully functioning laptop was one thing, but asking Clarisse to actually join you was another, even if you never explicitly asked her on a date, more of just a hangout. But you had done it and now you were sitting with her by your side cramped onto one of the bunk beds while the laptop sat in between the two of you.

Your choice of location for the laptop hadn't been the best as it left a good distance between you both, leaving no room for accidental shoulder brushes, though the popcorn that had also been propped between them could lead to some hand grazing. Still, it would be filled with butter.

The movie hadn't been the best decision either. When recommending a horror movie, you did it with the intent to spark Clarisse's interest, which you easily did since you had heard her talking about this movie in passing to her friends. But actually sat in front of it and watched the gruesome deaths of most of the cast, you were starting to think you picked something a little more suiting to your own tastes.

Every few seconds you seemed to jump, a quick thrash backwards into the pillow as if trying to push yourself away from the movie like you would do if on a quest and a monster was looming over you. You could feel your fight or flight instincts kicking in and though your body screamed at you to leave or at least turn off the movie, instead you ignored those feelings and stared forward, hoping that Clarisse was getting at least some enjoyment out of all of this.

When another scene flicked onto the screen, your immediate reaction was to whirl back, you felt a shift in the bed as the popcorn was moved and pushed to the end of the bunk along with the laptop. Your confusion was enough to draw you away from the movie as you looked over at Clarisse who seemed to be getting up.

You blew it, was the first thought that came to mind as you saw what you thought was Clarisse getting up. To your surprise though, she instead scooted herself over, plopping herself down directly next to you. Shocked, you couldn't utter a peep but had enough power to stare at Clarisse as she brought the food and movie back, balancing them on her legs before getting comfortable next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in the process.

"What?" Clarisse muttered in a low drawl once she noticed your eyes and how they hadn't turned back to the movie. If you hadn't known what to say before, you were rendered speechless now. Up this close, you could see every spec of flaming brown in Clarisse's eyes, the way her hair coiled and how her lips tinged. Instead of taking your silence as being breathless, she took it as a challenge. "Can I not do something nice?"

"Of course you can," The words rushed out of you, quick to try and ease any growing tensions within Clarisse. Though they may have been rushed out, they seemed to do the job as Clarisse relaxed a little bit further, fully leaning against you while also pulling you closer as she turned to watch the movie.

You were content to stare at her for a few more moments before her voice came barreling towards you, "Watch the movie."

Then your head snapped back, eyes landing on the screen at the perfect time for a jump scare to come a few seconds later. A quick exhale of air as all the oxygen left your lungs matched with a small jump was your usual response to a certain scene like this.

Only this time, Clarisse had her arm wrapped around you, her fingers drawing circles into your skin as a comforter as she never drew her eyes off the movie. And by some miracle, you felt whatever she was doing starting to work.

Every time a new jumpscare or particularly gory scene was meant to pop up, Clarisse seemed to know in advance as she shifted, putting you in a position where there was no need to jump back as her comforting hold was already on you.

By the time the movie had reached its end, you hardly had to worry about a scene coming up, Clarisse giving you all the warning you needed to be prepared for when it did. So as the end credits came rolling in, the two of you slowly made your way to the outside of your cabin for some fresh air.

The light was blinding after spending well over an hour in the dark, but you didn't mind as you could still feel the presence of Clarisse near.

"So," You began, drumming your fingers along your thighs as you stood across from one another. With a halfhearted smile, you announced, "That was fun."

"Really?" Giving you a deadpan expression, Clarisse cracked a smile of her own. "You seemed like you'd rather fight the gods themselves than watch that movie again."

"So horror movies aren't really my thing," You nervously chuckled, ignoring what she had said in favour of not actually considering which option you would rather be faced with. "But I had you there with me, so it wasn't that bad. It seemed like you knew whenever something bad was going to happen anyway so I didn't need to worry too much."

"Yeah," Clarisse agreed. "I watched it the other day with one of my brothers but seeing it again was nice. Got to look at all the smaller details, you know?"

"Right..." You trailed off, slightly disappointed that it hadn't been the first time Clarisse saw the movie. You also couldn't understand what details someone would want to see in a movie like that.

"Anyway, it was fun. We should catch another movie sometime," She offered, making your mood do a full 180 as a smile split across your face. "I've got to go now anyway, strategies for later to plan. Maybe I'll see you on my team for Capture the Flag if you speak with your head counsellor."

"I'll get onto that," You called after Clarisse as she had already turned, a laugh echoing off her lips as she dashed away.

[authorhjk1]

Reply not needed

"Is 'No Nut November' actually a thing? Or is it just an ancient internet meme that got way out of hand?"

" I don't know... Maybe? Look, I'm not an internet historian. I know some guys do it just for the sake of doing a challenge. Helps them focus or something."

"Have you considered doing it?"

"No, never-"

" You should do it!"

That's the conversation playing in your head when Karina revealed this:

Chaewon, Minju and Yena are going to be at your place when Karina is away gearing up for Aespa's comeback. (Ok technically it's Karina's place when she bought it with her sweet Kwangya money). You're no stranger to them, you've always enjoyed their company when you're somehow included in their "girls' night".

The only difference this time: They are essentially living with you for the whole of November.

You would've offered to go back to your old place or stay with a friend in the meantime. Karina's cuteness begging you to stay with them quickly dispelled that idea.

You're still really unsure this is a good idea and the stress is getting to you. That's when you're intrusive thoughts gets louder.

What if they are wearing those hot dolphin shorts with their cute little ass cheeks hanging out? The wet hair looks with a hint of shampoo smell when they just got out of the shower... Maybe even just wrapped in a towel with a hint of cleavage... Would they invite you to join them in the shower? Hmm, how good is it to have Yena's dick-sucking lips wrapped around you? A sex marathon with Chaewon pushing her to the limit? Minju just fully wrapped around you as you bottom her out, your abs hurting as you squeeze every ounce of cum inside her.

Damn it. Think normally. YOU ARE NOT CHEATING ON KARINA.

Is this some cruel test that Karina tailor-made for you? Or does she secretly gets wet when her hot idol friends make you desperately want to cum but you can't because it's inappropriate?

Is this just Karina's secret plan, using her friends to edge you, weaponize the concept of No Nut November just so she gets to have you in a sex-depraved state all for herself.

Or maybe you'll get rewarded and end up fucking all of them side by side, breeding all of them until their pussies overflow.

What happens if you can't jerk off since they would be constantly around? You have a bad feeling that No Nut November has just started for you whether you like it or not 🙈

===

Being constantly in a confined space in close proximity with hot idols especially when everyone is sexually charged 😳 The idols intentionally and unintentionally tease you😏

Would this be the case of OC cheating on Karina? Would OC secretly have sex with Yena, Minju and Chaewon individually without letting the others know?

Just a rough idea so you don't have to take any of the above seriously. I hope the setting/scenario would help inspire some fun and kinky scenes of smut.

Feel free to change up the idols any one of them is hard to write for you. Just throwing these idols out here because of the GIFs 😊

Surviving NNN

Part One : Temptations

You look at the four women in front of you, unable to form a word. Your girlfriend smiles at you.

"Hello, oppa!"

Karina steps forward to kiss your lips. You lean down a little, but she still has to get on her tiptoes. Holding the back of her head, you feel her silky hair as you smell her shampoo. Vanilla.

You have to think of something else. You have to win this bet. The price is worth it.

"You know the girls, right?"

You nod your head. Of course you do.

Choi Yena. She has the nickname "duck" for a reason. She looks cute whatever she does. Even when she fights with Chaewon. Her voice changes somewhat, which makes her into an angry duckling. Her new pink hair makes her look more like a celebrity in your eyes.

Kim Chaewon. She can be just as cute as Yena. Although that can change quickly. You have seen it first hand. She becomes quite flirty when she drinks a little. You hope she doesn't do it any time soon.

Kim Minju. The youngest of the four. You haven't seen much of her so far, but you do follow her on Instagram. Her wide hips....

You mentally stop yourself to continue this thought. Without the bet you made with Karina, it would've been fine thinking about her. But not right now.

Since the four of them hang out quite often, you occasionally do have lewd thoughts. You can't help it. Yes, you do have Karina and one might argue she is more than enough for your brain to comprehend. And yet there is something different about the other three. They all have their own charms. You would never cheat on Karina, but sometimes it does look tempting.

"What do you mean?"

You furrow your eyebrows after Karina explained the situation.

"Why would they all stay here?"

"You don't like us?"

Chaewon's question makes you shake your head.

"It's not that. But we have to be careful."

This might be the proper moment to mention that you are an idol as well. A soloist. A lot of eyes are on Karina for obvious reasons. But you could say you are her male equivalent. Your last MV just broke the 100M views mark a couple of day ago. For groups like Twice or Blackpink, that's standard. But to do that within a week? You find it not so bad.

Of course you can imagine what happened, when the media caught you and Karina on a date. You did try to hide to the best of your capabilities, but it wasn't enough. Picture of you walking alongside each other, holding hands, can't be interpreted any other way. A lot of MY's did send you rather odd messages, but you try to ignore them. Your relationship with Karina is now public for around six month.

That's why it's a bad idea to let her friends sleep over for a whole month. Especcially since Karina is going overseas for her comeback preperations. And also because of the bet you made. If you succeed No-Nut-November, Karina has promised you a special gift on December 1st. You keep wondering what it is. But the problem is the punishment. You will have to do everything that Karina wants for the end of the year. Which doesn't just include sex. But cleaning, taking out the trash and so on. You two live together in one apartment after all. You just hope the gift is worth all the risks and trouble.

In the end, as always, Karina did convince you to let Yena, Chaewon and Minju stay here. You wonder if that's her way of trying to sabotage your success. She did have to promise to not seduce you during this month.

And there you are now. Sitting on the expensive black leather couch, watching TV, while you hear your knew roommates around the apartment. It has two bedrooms, but because you and Karina sleep in one bed, one is always empty. That room is now occupied by Yena and Chaewon. You tried to convince Minju that you have no problem with sleeping on the mattress in the living room, but she refused to take your bed.

You hear the shower stop as you watch the kdrama "Bloodhounds" on the big screen. Since your overall concept is kinda bad boyish, you always try to watch stuff like this. The melody for your new song is already finished, only the lyrics are missing . You even have a title by now: "Dangerous game"

When the door to the bathroom opens, you instinctively turn your head. It turns out to be a grave mistake.

Kim Minju is standing in the doorframe. You might have been incredibly glad the she isn't just wearing a towel, but what she is actually wearing makes your head spin.

Her dark hair is still wet from the shower, the warm air slowly crawling out of the bathroom. It partially hides her face and you can even smell her shampoo from where you sit. A fruity scent. Similiar to strawberries. Her black top stretches a little over her chest, which you woudn't really have noticed if it weren't for the 13 day without cuming already.

But your main focus definitely lies on her lower body. She is wearing black denim high waist hotpants, which show off her small waist and wide hips. Especially her thighs. Oh my god, her thighs. They look nice and full as always. They jiggle slightly as she walks out of the door.

______

Hi erveryone, I hope you like the first chapter of this mini series. The theme is fitting for this month, so I thought "Wy not?" This chapter doesn't really have any action in it, since it's mostly the introduction. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

[jymwahuwu]

Ever since the 1.2 update released and the storyline continues.. I remember the scene were blade and danheng met. Blade said he was loosing control when he saw danheng and his mars urges to kill him.. and I immediately thought of something when he said those..

So like.. what if we're one of the people who will pay the price? And the same situation where blade is loosing control over his mara strike.. and instead of trying to kill us.. he noncons you instead in a more feral state. Not giving you any mercy nor stopping until we're a sobbing mess and covered in white cream... (Man I don't even know what I'm thinking of...😀)

CW: non-con, recording without consent, others are watching, revenge, yandere, afab reader

I've thought about this too…if we're going to pay the price🫣 but Blade doesn't want to kill us, just wants to see us suffer or be ravaged…it must be that he loved us in Xianzhou, but…we betrayed him.

You are now forced to transform into immortality, just like him. Blade is chasing you. He does not control your freedom. Just putting a collar around your neck for a few days pushes you out, allowing you to walk around any planet. However, no matter which planet you visit, the Blade is destined to find you, pin your head to the ground, pounding you in the back, hitting sensitive spots. He knows your sensitive parts and forces you to orgasm. No matter what new friend, bond, or even new lover you have now, the end result is - you are strapped in front of them and have to sit on him and ride his cock like a dumb slut. "Blade…I'm sorry…" The tears of fear in your eyes were as stinging and sour as the ruthless betrayal you had brought him.

Will Silver Wolf and Kafka join? 🤔Silver Wolf may be more sympathetic to you and persuade Blade to play some games instead of chasing you endlessly, but she won't do much. Blowing bubble gum while recording and saving some videos of you sobbing can still be done. Afterwards, she refuses to do anything, and leaves to play the game. Kafka…she'll fuel or stop Blade in his Mara state, watch you get ravaged by Blade, and be like- "Bladie, listen to me: unleash the mara."

Those painful and hateful memories flooded into his mind, the scarlet eyes staring at you deepened, and the balls pressed against your sore and wet cunt. "Blade…don't…don't…I was wrong!! Stop…" You don't know if it's an illusion, feeling the already terrifying dick thicker and harder, buried deep inside you, against the opening of your uterus. And the white cream that had been pumped in couldn't bear this size, accompanied by the loud sound of soaking water, and some flowed out, dripping along your butt on the bed.

After it's over, you're lying in bed, exhausted, even your tears have dried, panting slowly, your body filled with cum, every hole fully cared for. The lady with the violet eyes and hair, remind him. "Bladie? Don't go too far. Take your little pet to take a bath." In the blurred vision, you watched the bandaged hand reach out to you, then hesitantly picked you up and took you into the bathroom.

[highdio]

Pleeease, write your thoughts about the musical lol. I really like your Dio meta posts <3

Just a disclaimer: this is really opinionated but I don't like to drag media for its own sake. There were lots of things to like in the Phantom Blood musical, just ... Dio wasn't one of them. Also, Mamoru Miyano threw himself into the performance he was asked for, so it's hardly his fault. It's just always amazing to me that people feel the need to rewrite Dio into someone else when the way Araki's written him is already perfect, complete and a lot of fun.

So, where to start? Basically, the Phantom Blood musical re-writes Dio, giving him a different personality and different motivations through OOC stage direction along with a bunch of original dialog and scenes. What results is a version of Phantom Blood where "Dio" is just a normal guy without charisma who had a bad childhood and spends most of the story being miserable. Dio as he's written in canon has an uncommon charisma and appeal that's allowed him to remain relevant as one of those 'all-time great' villains. Scene after scene in the musical prove that its creative team either didn't read the manga or just really didn't like Dio.

fwiw Araki wrote Dio as thoroughly fleshed-out, with consistent traits and behaviors and consistent motivations behind his actions. He also left a paper trail of interviews and author's commentaries that develop Dio even more fully beyond the manga. So there's really no excuse for media that treat Dio as some sort of empty vessel waiting to be filled by narrative cliches we already know and expect.

It's annoying too, because, along with its OOC content, the musical is peppered with occasional manga-consistent moments. It's like the musical is camouflaging its Very Bad Take on Dio by having Mamoru Miyano periodically re-enact the canon character's most famous panels. The musical wants simultaneously to take credit for bringing Araki's vision to life on the stage, while at the same time completely undermining its most important element: a capital V "Villain" who, according to Araki, "accepts and embraces his evil nature, and follows his dark path without hesitation." This is the biggest change the musical makes to Dio: musical!Dio has none of the confidence that allows canon Dio him to move so decisively and destructively through the narrative.

Musical Dio is introduced by a scene where he's bullied on his way home, before breaking into a song about how terrible his life is, where "everything is always taken from [him]" ("it's hell …I feel nauseated …[I'm] under a cloudy sky.") The song is alternately tearful and hopeful. "I'm going crazy from being robbed!" he laments and then pollyannaishly muses, "hey, Joestar, can you turn my [cloudy] skies to blue?"

If Dio being introduced as a sad sap and self-described perennial loser hoping for any break sounds attitudinally unfamiliar that's because it is. Araki went in the opposite direction: he started his story by subverting the cliche - wide-eyed poor boy victimized by circumstance leaves his sorrow-filled life hoping for a new start - and instead gave us a kid with surprising, even sinister agency. Dio is not just given a hero's upward narrative arc (something Araki crafted very deliberately), he's introduced improbably in his first scene from a position of control. This fact is important because in the manga it's a position he won't lose until four chapters and nearly 100 pages in, when Jonathan finally fights back. From the time young Dio is introduced - reading a book with his back turned to his bed-ridden father who he's secretly poisoning -

- to the time he's systematically broken down his adoptive brother's spirit by alienating him from his friends, taking Erina's first kiss, and of course kicking his dog, Dio is shown as being in control and on top (Erina drinking the muddy water is the only exception). It's OOC to imagine 12-year old Dio feeling sorry for himself because at the time he's introduced, he's already made a habit of getting what he wants. By the time he sets off for the Joestars after killing his first dad, he's already developed full confidence in his abilities and the inevitability of his rise to riches (something Araki has him explicitly state and then underscores with a panel illustration of a steam train signaling the rise of Modernity).

But the writers and director of the musical don't find this characterization interesting enough or something. So they lose the canon entirely and in its place they invent a version of Dio who's despondent. And they didn't get Araki's steam train memo so they miss the Modernity theme (even though Araki's tied Dio so tightly conceptually to the idea of the Modern that he has him "use a 20th century boxing technique in the 19th century"); instead they double down on class difference being determinative. It never occurs to them that Dio is written specifically by Araki with the freedom to move outside of his social status because he sees it as artificial (the "evil elite" monologue later reveals Dio thinks of the whole social contract thing is arbitrary and voluntary).

Throughout the musical, Dio (although it's not fair to Mamoru Miyano since he isn't responsible for writing this mess, let's use mamoDio from now on because it's easier) seems to idolize the Joestars for what he calls their "beautiful blood." Not "beautiful" because usable calories for the vampire he will become but "beautiful" because noble. The Joestars' noble status and the honor that's apparently behind that status become the shining "star" toward which mud-bound mamoDio flailingly, failingly reaches. I don't need to tell you that in canon Dio doesn't have respect for nobility.

"Mud and stars" is heavy-handedly introduced as a dominant theme of the musical. According to the play, Jonathan, noble and bright, looks to the stars while human Dio, pathetic, conflicted and even confused, can only see life as a mud-soaked prison.

Now, the mud and stars thing was only used in Part 1 as a single text element on a Volume 1 illustration but, in spite of its marginality, it's becomes a liturgical text for some fans looking for an explanation for Dio's actions beyond what Araki gives them in the actual narrative. To this sort of fan, a guy who embraces his inner talent for evil and never had the misfortune of developing a moral compass isn't the right type of villain because he's unapologetic. If the villain doesn't have excuses how can you apologize for him? So they need Dio and by extension Araki to give them a "good enough" reason to accept Dio's ever-escalating atrocities. If the reasons Dio has for doing the things he does lie outside of what's considered good or acceptable, they are simply rejected and new reasons are invented in the hope of making Dio much less objectionable.

Now, like I said earlier, Araki's repeatedly told us in his writings that Dio has an upward narrative trajectory, not a downward, "mud"-bound one. The mud and stars duality fails to describe the narrative journey of the two main characters: both look upward to transcend their circumstances and travel along a shonen manga hero's rising path. (In fact, it's Jonathan who needs a good push to realize his potential, something Dio happily provides). And it's Jonathan, not Dio, who Araki first gives a downward arc, being handed defeat after defeat for those first four chapters before gaining his footing and progressively rising to Dio's challenges. "Mud and stars" isn't just a bad choice of metaphor, it's a misleading one.

Back to the musical, mamoDio is the exact opposite. An air of sadness and insecurity haunts his performance. An original scene where George presents the mud and stars dilemma as a lesson highlights Dio's lack of confidence and the depression that lurks behind it, as Dio bemoans how people doomed to "struggle and die" cannot possibly summon the hope it takes to look up to the stars (he's talking of course about himself).

Likewise, and here's where mamoDio's failure as a character really comes into full relief, seven years after this, when Dio's machinations are revealed and he's about to be arrested, before he uses the stone mask, mamoDio drops to the floor and spends the better part of a musical number in tears, bemoaning his sorry life ("I'm trapped in a prison covered in mud… no matter how hard I struggle I'm crushed…") and his lack of noble blood.

(btw this is after the manga scene where Dio fake cries; here, mamoDio is genuinely distraught).

Contrast this to the actual scene in the manga. His expressions in these panels are memorable because of how assured Araki draws him. Dio's entire world - his poisoning scheme, his grab at what one can assume would have been the entirety of the Joestar estate - is about to end but instead of despairing, he launches into a philosophical soliloquy. His body language is haughty: this isn't mamoDio crawling on the ground and decrying his upbringing and lack of noble blood, instead this is a man who apparently, almost irrationally, perceives himself as noble. When he uses the mask, Dio is smiling widely. Metaphorically speaking, he's looking at the stars.

When mamoDio uses the mask? He's on his knees. He's in tears. On one night he interjects, "Mother…" In short, he's conflicted.

One of these depicts Dio. The other does not.

Now obviously the writers and director of the musical must think making these seismic changes adds something to Dio's character. But (and I feel like this is a theme whenever I write these things) I'd argue it only makes him more basic. It makes him predictable and formulaic, someone we've seen in countless other stories.

(Oh! and did I mention mamoDio repeatedly calls himself "useless"!! Because he does this.)

Now, because mamoDio has no confidence and as a human acts out of desperation, when he becomes a vampire he still isn't Dio. Mamoru tries to make his vampire Dio evil and scary by expending a lot of energy, running about the stage and sticking out his tongue ad nauseum. When you look at how Araki has Dio move physically throughout the manga, it's the opposite of kinetic. Dio is a point of fixity who's charisma draws others toward him (ask me for more on this if you want because there's enough here for its own post).

Now for the worst of the worst: at the very end of the production, after the manga ending that features Jonathan's death and Dio's (presumed) defeat as a head imprisoned in Jonathan's arms, the musical takes an original twist in which, following a finale number featuring most of the cast, mamoDio is lead offstage by Jonathan. You read that right. mamoDio is hunched over, resigned, and Jonathan seems to take on a paternal role. Although the lyrics would have you believe this has something to do with "two fates becoming one," it's clear from the stage direction that any embers of Dio's ambition are being tamed and extinguished as Jonathan takes Dio's grasping hand, subdues him, and leads him docilely into the darkness.

It turns out Dio's vampire arc was just a phase, a hurt and lonely child lashing out and making a mess for attention.

His body language here is obscenely out of character. Consider the following because, as I said in the opening, in spite of what all these re-writes of Dio would have you believe, Araki crafted Dio with specificity and consistency: Araki only draws Dio (with very few exceptions) 1) standing tall, looking down at you; 2) back turned, looking back and down at you; or simply 3) back turned, (performatively?) ignoring you. Dio is never on the ground except when he's knocked down (think, young Jonathan finally fighting back in the Joestar home or, much later, Jotaro stopping time and landing those punches). By constrast, mamoDio has spent an incessant amount of time of the ground, crouching, kneeling,, bowing, hunched down. Who is this guy? So his hunched-down exit in the final moments of the production, literally being led by Jonathan (controlled??), is so amazingly stupid that if I didn't have a gif as proof, you might think I'm just making this stuff up:

There's plenty more to unpack that I won't address here: ghost Dario. The lack of grave-spitting. The complete absence of true joy or leisure expressed by Dio especially during his vampire era: no woman eating her baby, no owlcats, no Poco's sister. No chaise lounge. No roses(!). No fun. Not for Dio. That would be too manga-consistent. That might mean Araki wasn't giving us the appropriate message that bad guys are actually just sad guys.

tl;dr Dio isn't in the Phantom Blood musical. He's replaced by a normal guy who's motivated by a lack of self-esteem and despair that he wasn't born into an upper-class household, or something. He's boring. The result? There can be no Part 3 in this musical's world (and presumably no Parts 4, 5 or 6, no Giorno, no Jolyne, … you get the picture) because mamoDio just gives up. It's a nicely produced little tale about Jonathan Joestar and some random other guy who at some point gets a funny green coat.

[scoobydoodean]

#okay wait do y'all think that she wasn't going to try and murder Dean?#Do you think he was going to get through to her?#convince her somehow to not try to stab him?#that she was telling the truth at all in that scene?#because she was totally going to try and kill Dean#like 100% that was going to happen#and if Sam hadn't shot her then Dean would have had to kill her and that would have been so much harder on Dean#like it was disturbing that Dean had a 3 day old monster child that wanted to kill him but who was then killed by her uncle Sam instead#and even more disturbing that they then never mention her again#but these are also the guys who left their half brother in Lucifer's cage and didn't lose any sleep over it so...#and I love Dean but killing Amy was an asshole move#and there's kinda a difference between killing an active imminent threat and killing someone in cold blood after the fact @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

I didn't want to clutter someone else's post but this was partially directed at me? I've talked about the whole "Emma vs Amy" debate quite a few times, but I'll share a few thoughts.

Amy is a present, unrepentant, fully cognizant, adult, serial murderer. She is not actually sorry about what she did in any way. She believes that slaughtering humans like cattle to feed them to her son was the morally correct action even if it wasn't the ethical action because it kept her son alive. She is not correct.

Emma is a brainwashed child who's been psychologically conditioned for a few days. She has never killed anyone and only wants to kill Dean because some women who abused her told her to.

Hunters like Sam and Dean primarily deal in punitive justice, not preventative justice—and what I mean by that is that Sam and Dean try not to kill people (with powers or without powers) who have never killed anyone.

While I think you're right to point out that a preventative justice component is in play, that is not primarily how Dean makes the decision to go after Amy, and the reason we know that is because Amy's son swears to kill Dean and Dean does nothing about it because the boy has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Dean's application of his personal code is consistent here. He kills Amy, who is a murderer who killed four people, but he does not intend to kill Emma or Amy's son—both of whom wanted to kill him—because neither has actually killed anyone and both may choose not to.

You say that Emma was going to kill Dean 100%, but you don't actually know that because we never got to see that future. You assume Amy would never have killed again, but when you add up "murderer who regrets absolutely nothing" and "child vulnerable to catching illnesses" you get "Mom who absolutely would kill again as necessary and who would feel zero remorse doing so just like the last time".

I don't personally think SPN gives us any reason to suspect that three days of psychological conditioning from a cult is too much to overcome. We have seen other characters overcome much more serious levels of psychological conditioning intended to make them killers. For example, Cas and Alex. I'm not saying Emma wasn't trying to pull the wool over Sam and Dean's eyes in the scene where Sam shot her, but I am saying that doesn't actually mean in any way that she couldn't be convinced to actually choose a different path.

Under the same litmus test with which you suggest Emma's condemnation, we'd also condemn season 2 Sam for his potential "future" crimes. We are killing monsters before they actually become those monsters... because of the dark path someone else intends for them to go down. Amy—again—is an active present unrepentant serial killer.

I think sometimes people misremember the scene where Sam kills Emma—recalling the scene as a scene where Emma lunges at Dean with the knife and Sam steps in just in time to save his life, or where Dean is unarmed and Emma has him at knife point. But that is not what happened. Emma quite literally brought a knife to a gun fight. Dean had a gun pointed at her, and if she was thinking straight at all, she would have left to avoid being killed if given the chance—especially when Sam arrived. And had she not, Sam could have shot her at that point—but Sam didn't wait to see what she'd do. He wanted her dead, because even if she ran, he didn't think they were equipped to deal with surprise attacks from Dean's Amazon child. That is the decision Sam made after a brief moment to consider, and it makes sense to me given the headspace he was in at the time and his assessment of Dean's headspace as well, but it does not make his decision consistent with his previous or future behavior regarding people who have been psychologically conditioned to kill.

My own frustrations are more with fandom, for a thought process that really really does not make sense to me, where Emma deserves to die but Amy deserved to live. I do not agree with that premise. I do not understand why so much of fandom has the perspective that a child who hadn't shed a drop of blood and who was acting in response to a cult's torture, who brought a knife to a gun fight and had already been driven into a corner where she had no choice but to surrender or run—doesn't deserve a chance to choose something else before she's barely lived and before she's heard a loving word in her entire life, but an adult with full cognizance of their actions who went through with killing four people and doesn't regret it should go on with their life and is "just a good mom doing what she had to" and killing that person is the bad thing. I don't understand that. I don't think Dean killing Amy was wrong at all in the "hunters kill supernatural murderers" show. The only thing Dean did wrong was lie about it and not take enough care to keep her son from seeing it happen.

[onmyyan]

Can I get Delmont HC’s for when one of their ex flings or situationships try to get at the Delmont’s again and reader just gets sad instead of jealous ☹️

Oh this was so good my hands started typing before I could stop em!

A/N: Yandere, murder mentioned in Marcos, Manny kills someone,

Starting with OG lover boy, Cas takes your relationship very, very seriously.

Let's set the scene, the two of you are cuddled up at a work party of yours and a coworker you didn't really talk to much comes sauntering over with a smile far too friendly for your liking, it made a nasty feeling settle deep within your gut, something about her gaze lingering on the tall man by your side made you feel uncomfortable.

"Caspian? I haven't seen you in ages! How are you these days?" She'd ask completely ignoring your presence. Your eye flickered from the long legged woman to your now tense boyfriend. Caspian was almost always relaxed and happy with you, so you immediately clocked his off behavior.

"Hey Ana, been good." Was his simple, curt response, his hand moved from it's warm spot on your waist to his pant pocket, (He felt his temper instantly rise and couldn't risk hurting you so he moved his clenched fist to his pocket.) and you felt silly about it afterwards but in that moment, that small action felt like a rejection. The ugly feelings brewing in your stomach made the drink on your tongue turn bitter.

"You look amazing Cas, I see you kept up with our gym routine after all huh?" She giggled as if it was an inside joke between them, her body faced him, now closer than before, and you felt like a stranger intruding on something personal, all too quickly, you felt your throat tighten.

"It's so crazy running into you here, I was just thinking about how much fun we had together, we should go out for a drink later, maybe catch up?"

Caspian stared long and hard at the woman but your emotions were quickly spiraling out of control, you could feel your gut twist at the thought of him entertaining her, and before you could hear his response, you muttered out a barley audible "Excuse me." To the pair, quickly making your retreat to the nearest bathroom, thanking the universe that it was empty because no sooner than you closed the door did your bottom lip start to tremble.

Had you stayed you would have seen the downright murderous look on your boyfriend's face.

In his head he's trying to figure out the best way to turn her down without embarrassing you at your job, it's the only reason he doesn't notice your sudden mood shift.

He was trying to process the woman's audacity, a curt decline on the tip of his tongue, when you suddenly disappeared from his side. In an instant panic, he not so subtly shoves his way past the woman to where he thinks you went.

He uses the tracker on your phone to track you down to the bathroom and fully intended on waiting by the door until you came out, but then he heard the sound he hated most in the world, you sniffling.

Bursts in the door like there's a fire, not caring about anything but getting to you, checking you over. He ignores your gasp and hushed whispers to get out before he got in trouble, and cradles your wet face between his big hands.

"What's wrong Honey? How can I help?" He's staring at you with those big red eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and you can't help the tearful giggle you let out at his behavior.

"It's stupid-"

"If it made my baby cry it's far from stupid." He corrects immediately, thumbs wiping at any stray tears left.

"That woman- the way she spoke to you. I just, I hated how that made me feel and I don't know- I'm sorry, we can just go back to the party okay?" You turn from him to face the mirror and in an attempt to brush past what you considered an embarrassing moment, begin wiping at the smeared mascara on your eyes.

He smacks his teeth at his own idiocy, he hadn't even considered how that stupid wench made you feel in the moment, god what must be running through your mind, he couldn't imagine an ex of yours trying to ask you out in front of him, the guilt swells immediately, he wanted to run back out there and throw that harlot down the stairs for making your pretty face fall the way it had.

Instead he made his way to the bathroom door and clicked the lock in place, you turned to face him but your questions died on your tongue as he made his way towards you with that particular dark look in his eye.

"Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just didn't wanna make a scene at your job." He says casually falling to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your calves, to your thighs, finally settling on the thin fabric of your underwear, he stared up from between your legs with the softest look on his face.

"Let me make it up to you Honey."

Gabe has a much more explosive reaction

You two are at the gym, Gabe was sweating and sitting there all gorgeous and shit, he's making sure you watch as he lifts, his veins bulging in his arms as he winks at you. "Be my spotter baby I need my motivation." He grits out with that wolfish smile stretched across his flushed face.

You weren't nearly as athletic as the man and sometimes it felt as if you didn't belong in the gym, but he was quick to snuff out these thoughts, swearing up and down he preformed better on his sets when you were watching, that he needed you by his side even if you weren't working out as well.

He not only wants you around because he can't get enough of you, but he also really wants you to see him be hot, unfortunately that meant everyone at the gym got to see it too.

"I'll be right back baby, gonna go grab you a water." You smile at his immediate pout, the grabby hands he makes as he demands a goodbye kiss, even though you'd only be gone a few moments, but that's all the time the blonde woman stalking up to him needs.

The stranger to you was an old fling of Gabe's, he barely recognized her when she invited herself to his personal space like she was allowed, the only reason he didn't immediately brush her off was because she said his name, he was confused as she neared him, her smile too wide to be genuine.

the blue haired giant was the best sex of her life and despite the fact that she saw his blatant affection for you, she made her move anyway.

You came back to quite the sight, Gabe sat stiffly on the machine he was at, his elbows on his knees as he stared up at the blonde beside him, his face set in that sinfully attractive hardened stare,

The woman currently leaning too close for comfort on his machine looked like someone out of a fitness magazine, she was fit, completely toned and gorgeous, you couldn't help the twinge of discomfort at how close they were, how they looked like the perfect couple.

You neared them awkwardly as her back was to you and heard her say, "It's been too long Gabriel, I miss you, god your body is still insane, what are your benching now 250? 300. You could definitely still toss me around the bed." Her tone was dripping in flirtation, she dragged a finger up the pole of the machine he sat on, leaning down to press her chest together.

Before you could think about turning away from the upsetting sight, Gabe abruptly stood up, his glare dead set on the woman, his eyes flickered to you, immediately clocking the way your shoulders shrunk in, how you seemed to deflate at the situation, he could practically read your mind, knowing how easily your brain went to the worst places, he felt his temper skyrocket at the mere idea of you being upset by this nobody.

"Baby! I think we should end this early yeah? I got a better idea for a workout that involves you, me, and my backseat." He says almost whining as he throws his sweaty body all over you, his arms holding you tight against his body as he kissed the top of your head, rocking into the hug.

"This place just let's anybody in, we should switch to a new gym." His glare turned to the woman, if looks could kill she'd be on the ground. "C'mon ma, let's go before I get belligerent."

Ricky fully ignores the interaction lmao it's so rude

You'd come to the Auto shop with a homemade lunch for your sweet Ricky as he forgot to pack his own and called you to bring him one (he definitely did this on purpose just to see you at work)

You enter the shop and start to head straight to the back before being stopped by a manicured hand snapping in your face rather rudely.

"Hi ma'am, you can't just walk in here, you have to make an appointment." The woman behind the receptionist desk was new, you'd never seen her in here before, she was practically sneering at you, her plastic, customer service smile held no warmth as she tapped her nail against the sign in sheet impatiently.

You laughed instinctually at the tense situation, trying to dispell the awkwardness, you didn't understand her hostility, "Oh my boyfriend works here, he's expecting me." You say offering her a friendly smile, trying to smooth over any unpleasantness.

"Well I'm going to need some identification." She says matter of factly, her body now blocking your path. "uh no?" You said not wanting the stranger to see your information, you'd come to the shop hundreds of times now, everyone knew who you were, everyone but this woman it seems.

She scoffed at your refusal her voice raising in anger as she glared at you, "If you don't cooperate I'll have to call security." She threatened not knowing how deep she was digging her grave.

"My love? What's going on." Ricky's deep, baritone voice suddenly called out from around the corner, he thought it was odd you hadn't appeared yet as his tracker app said you'd arrived at his work minutes ago, it wasn't like you to delay so he listened to his gut and went outside seeing you being harassed by the new receptionist.

His blood pressure rises instantly and he has to fight to keep his hands from yanking her away from you.

He'd only signed off on her hiring because he knew she was infatuated with him, they hooked up once a few years ago and she would do anything to have it happen again, of course Ricky had no intention of fulfilling her desires, he just needed someone he knew would keep their mouth shut if they happened to see/notice something funky with the shop.

But her value immediately diminishes the second she gets in your way, his glare could melt glass as he tells her a simple, but aggressive, "Move." He holds his arms out to you and when you curl into his touch he makes a point to kiss your temple, his focus completely on you. "Are you alright love? What was she doing?" He asks tenderly rubbing your face. The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but Ricky shuts her up with a single raised hand, "She was just asking for my ID, I brought your lunch!" You say excitedly, his gaze grows warm at the adorable sight before he turns to the woman, his eyes dead, his aura dark and imposing.

"Clean out your desk immediately, I want you out of my shop before I come back out here." His tone left no room for argument, almost threatening as he places a hand in the small of your back, gently leading you away. "You didn't need to do that for me-" he cuts you off with an intense, breath stealing kiss, "Of course I did, no one interrupts our time together."

Marcos had always been afraid of his promiscuous past coming back to haunt him, and his violent reaction to this shows.

The two of you had been at a club for a while now, both proper sloshed and sweating, hours of grinding on each other to every song that came on the thumping speakers, he's in heaven with his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck as he mouths needy kisses up and down your throat.

You motion towards the bar, your drunk body demanding more alcohol and he begins leading you towards it, his hands never leaving your body.

He all but pushes a guy out of his seat so you can rest there while he gets the bartenders attention. He freezes when the woman turns around. The bartender shoots him a knowing, flirty grin, leans over close and yells over the pounding music, "Hey Marcos baby, you come back for more? I can take my break right now if that's the case."

His eyes flicker to you and his heart stutters at the sad look on your face, be it the copious amounts of liquor you had in your body or how just how gorgeous the woman hitting on him was, you feel your spirits drop, your mind tortured you with images of them together, of him with another, and the insecurities bubble up faster than you can handle, "scuse' me." You drunkenly mutter clasping a hand over your mouth, your stomach felt queasy all of a sudden and you all but ran to the bathroom on shakey legs.

Marcos is seeing red, his mind panicking as he watches you retreat to the bathroom he feels sick himself at the thought of you leaving him, the fear that you may be comparing yourself to such a nothing person, the terrifying thought of this insignificant person making you see him different, it had his chest heaving in a barley concealed rage.

He fixes his burning stare on the bartender, his eyes holding pure malice as he holds himself back from pressing his thumbs into her eyes and slamming her into the bar until it broke.

He says nothing to her, his eyes making her so uneasy she baked away slightly, his mouth felt dry as he pushes and bullies his way past the crowd to barge into the bathroom where he finds you curled around the toilet, he's falling to his knees beside you in an instant, he keeps your hair from your face, a soothing hand on your back as you empty your stomach.

His words are soft and encouraging as he helps you to your feet, uncaring about his expensive clothes being dirtied, uncaring of how messy you look, his eyes are full of love, even a bit teary as he helps you to the sink, as you wash your mouth out he's wetting a paper towel and dabbing the cold cloth to your burning neck, "Oh baby, my sweet girl are you okay? I'm so sorry, come here let me see you."

The moment sobers him entirely, he's calling a deluxe Uber to pick you both up and sending a message to his twin about the bartender, he wanted the bitch dead for even momentarily causing you to frown, he's holding your swaying form against him protectively as he waits for the car, his mind swirling with thoughts of violence and revenge, how dare that waste of air upset you so much? The crime would be repaid in blood.

Manny has the most volatile reaction.

The two of you are a late night, semi exclusive car show, Manny loved watching the races, he stopped racing in them the second you said you worried for his safety but his love for the adrenaline filled sport remained, the classic cars were beautiful and he always smiled so brightly when you indulged his more risky interests.

He loved pointing out the racers he liked or hated, his favorite cars and why, sharing this with you was one of his favorite ways to pass time. You always looked so beautiful under the neon lights, the smell of gasoline in the air.

It's rare for him to leave your side when you're out and about so this happens in front of you, the two of you are cuddled up together, sat comfortably on the hood of his car, his arms around you as you leaned back into his chest, when a woman in leather saunters up to his car.

"Hey Manny, long time no see pretty boy." The woman coo's from her position, her eyes drinking him in, blatantly ignoring your existence.

"Yeah." Is Manny's only response, his grip on your hips tightening before he moves from holding you against him to stepping in front of you, keeping his body between you and what he felt was a threat.

His hair moved everytime a car whizzed by him, but he didn't flinch, his cold eyes trained on the woman from his past.

His voice was clearly irritated, tone leaving no room for friendly interpretation, and yet she persisted, taking a step closer to the tall man who had begun to clench his fists, his body trembling in unfiltered rage.

"You wanna' take another ride? This time if I win, I get my prize up front." Her tone was clear, her implication made more lewd as she looked him up and down.

"Don't talk to me like you know me. Don't talk to me like you're somebody." His voice was dripping venom as he spoke, and if he wasn't furious before, the sad, almost deflated look on your face at her comments made him see red.

The crowds of people were so thick and intense, the loud sounds of the revving engines and screaming spectators only added to his slip of control.

"Relax Manny baby! I'm just teasing you." She puts her hand on his chest and before you could blink the woman's body is flying out towards the road where a car smacks into her with a sick crunch, her limp body is dragged as the car speeds along, unaware of the carnage it caused, screams and shouts of horror come from all around you, people beginning to panic as Manny turns around, all malice gone from his face as he lifts you off the car and ushers you to the passenger seat without a word. "Time to go!" He all but sings as he peels out of the parking lot.

"Holy shit are you okay?" You asked him turning back to stare as the horrifying scene grew farther and farther from his rearview mirror. He placed a shaky hand on your thigh to calm himself as he spoke, "I'm okay baby girl, are you? I'm so so sorry you had to see that." He says, his only guilt came from your date night being cut short.

"Don't be sorry baby, no one could have known that would happen Jesus Christ." You put a hand to your chest trying to ease the fierce beat, he grabbed your free hand, bringing the back of your palm to his lips for a sweet kiss, his eyes crinkling in joy at the thought of her now crumpled body.

"Yeah, accidents happen."

[heartfullofleeches]

Tsun Yan Camboy + G.N Loser Reader- [mdni]

A chronically online shut in and the roommate blessed misfortunate enough to bunk with them.

God - he can't stand you. How can you even consider yourself his roommate? All you ever do all day is hole yourself up in your room wasting the day away watching your favorite streamers and actors - and when you do leave, all you ever talk about is them. It's disgusting - you're disgusting. He should find another roommate and be done with you. There you go again babbling on about your fav streamer reading your message today .....why don't your eyes ever light up like that when he's talking to you?...

Your roommate eventually gets fed up and steals your phone while you're sleeping. What do they have that he doesn't? Granted, you had made a move on him when he first moved which he quickly shot down. Undressing him with your eyes, hurling disgusting flirts and taking any chance to grope at him in close counters. His heart leapt straight into his pants remembering the last time he accidentally left the door open a crack and caught you staring like a predator to prey - belittling him more to just a slab of meat. It made him sick... it made him feel desired.

All these creators on your feed. Your messages are nothing short of repulsive too. A little bit of skin exposed and you just couldn't help yourself. He could do it too. Better than all the little tramps that caught your eye. It would be easy too. Everyone always complimented him on his physical appearance anyways - always trying to offer him their couch while things with you were getting figured out when the only place he wanted to be was your bed.

He got to work as soon as he returned your phone - creating various accounts on sites you frequented and buying everything he needed to get started. He even obtained a gym membership to work on his flexibility and thighs which he later switched to home training as his popularity grew; giving you the middle finger whenever you inquired where he was going and made the indepth observation his ass had gotten bigger than you remembered this past few weeks.

It didn't take long for him to gain traction.

A lot of the things you enjoyed could apply to the masses and he put more effort into his research than anything he had prior - even just confessing his love. He wore the outfits you loved, spoke in the breathy tones you liked, and on those specially lonely nights - he spanned your messages with invites for his pages so frequently you probably wouldn't checked him out sooner if you hadn't thought they were bots. None of the fame, fans or money really mattered - until he saw that familiar name in his inbox.

"Hey gorgeous, loved your vids~ hope you would do me the pleasure of texting me back sometime."

And he did - everyday. You're such an utter mess when it comes to acting like a functional being it's no wonder you were blocked by a few streamers before he thinned the list out - but it was the cutest thing. He was jealous of his own self now for having your full attention, but the anonymity allowed him to do things for he normally wouldn't in a million years- like spreading his legs open on his desk and showing you what exactly your sweet, fucked up words do to him.

To combat the threat of you finding his identity he wears cute masks and wigs - eventually earning enough to rent a small apartment to keep you fully in the dark. You might point out a mole on his backside in the same place as your new favorite streamer, but a quick dick pic from said individual draws whatever conversation you started to a close. Always searches for your recommendations out of thousands when asking for input on his next fit/scene and calls all of his followers his subjects - while wearing a choker that says master on it. It's still a little irritating to hear you ramble about some bitch you found online - but being that bitch makes it all worth it.

"You should see dude's hips... I mean - the handles on this guy.... don't even get me started on the things he does with his tongue.

Your roommate scoffs and rolls his eyes - nursing a sucker between his lips as he hits order on the swim suit you suggested to him and sends you the confirmation email along with a good morning

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 20

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

After Yor meets Yuri on the train, she's reminded of the fact that he's "all grown up" and doesn't need her to take care of him anymore.

As I described in Part 8, earning enough money to support Yuri was the main reason Yor became an assassin. Since she didn't have the luxury to pursue anything worthwhile for herself, taking care of and being useful to others became her main focus in life. But since Loid and Anya don't benefit from her assassin work, and now Yuri doesn't either, she begins wondering why she needs to continue doing it. This question is reinforced a few times later: first, when they're on the train and she realizes how much she enjoys being with Loid and Anya as a family, without having to worry about work. And again, during her initial meeting with Olka.

When Olka tells her that she wants to get away from the dangerous life of a gangster to a peaceful, quiet life, Yor takes a moment to reflect on those words, as they were the same thoughts she had on the train earlier – thoughts of what it would be like to live a normal life with your family without all the fears and dangers that come along with being involved in the underworld.

Olka asks Yor why she's so worried about her family discovering her identity since they're just a cover-up family, which leads to a softly emphasized scene of Yor with a noticeably sad expression, as she reluctantly admits that, yes, they are a family just for show.

We know from previous episodes, like the cooking lesson and post-Fiona date, that Yor has since realized that being in the Forger family makes her happy, despite the fact that they're a "fake" family. However, she doesn't know if Loid and Anya feel the same way, especially Loid. For all she knows, he's letting her live with him as his wife more as a favor to her, and because it's convenient for their front at Eden, and not because he personally finds happiness in the arrangement. While he did tell her during their previous date that he wants her to continue playing the role of Anya's mother and his wife, Yor doesn't know whether he feels the same happiness being together as a family like she does.

Yor becomes even more motivated to help Olka when the latter mentions that she's left so much of her old life behind her now.

Perhaps her eagerness to help Olka comes from her sad resignation to the fact that she herself can't attain the kind of life Olka is heading towards, so at the very least, she wants to make sure Olka can attain it.

Meanwhile, we see just how much Twilight's spy work has "traumatized" him, to the point of being on total high alert on the ship even though Sylvia specifically ordered him to relax. Not only was he immediately suspicious of the lottery for the cruise ticket, but even after he's on the ship, his ever-calculating mind can't help but imagine the worst scenarios. He begins looking out for any signs of terrorism and dubious behavior, much to Anya's dismay.

However, thanks to her coaxing, he catches himself and makes a conscious effort to turn off the "spy mode" in his brain (as much as he can anyway).

Later, we see Yor being nervous when having dinner with the executives, obviously not comfortable in such a formal situation and still afraid that she'll be spotted by Loid and Anya. However, when given a task she knows best – assassination work – we get to see a side of Yor that has yet to be fully highlighted in the series…a side that's serious and confident, without her usual doubts and hesitations.

Her social awkwardness and uncertainties disappear as she takes on a total "in-charge" demeanor when guiding Olka and company back to the room. But Olka has spent enough time with the underworld crowd to see that, while Yor is very good at her work, it doesn't suit the sweet, gentle person that she really is. Even before the real danger starts, Olka tells her that she doesn't seem like the underworld type, and even suggests that she spend time with her family when the ship stops at the resort. Olka must have sensed from Yor's hesitation and sad expression in their previous conversation that she truly cares about them.

It's unfortunate that Yor doesn't have a permanent confidant like Olka – someone who not only knows her true identity as an assassin, but also senses that she has real feelings for what should be a "fake" family…and is supportive of that in her own subtle way. Twilight has Franky, and Sylvia somewhat, as people who know him as both a spy and as a (fake) family man. But even though they're not openly supportive of the fact that he's catching feelings for his family, they're still people he can not only confide in without having to hide his true identity, but they care about Anya's well being too. Yor doesn't have anyone like that. While Shopkeeper and McMahon know her true identity, her relationship with them seems to be strictly business. So, as brief as her time with Olka is, it was good for Yor to finally converse with someone who understands her inner feelings that she herself is having trouble realizing.

While Anya and Twilight are having dinner later, Anya mentions that it's been a while since they've eaten dinner without Yor, to which Twilight comments that it does seem lonely without her. He could have replied with any number of less melancholic responses ("It does feel weird" or "She must be very busy" to name a few). So the fact that his first thought was how lonely it felt does seem to indicate a momentary lapse in his spy facade, to which Anya rightfully calls him out and he immediately tries to deny it (with a slight but telling blush).

When they visit the gift shop, we see that Twilight is still having trouble learning how to find enjoyment on the trip, despite the fact that Sylvia made it an official mission. It's tragic to think that even when given orders to have a relaxing family vacation, he simply can't turn off the suspicions and anxiety in his mind. But his anxiousness about people potentially eavesdropping on him soon changes to concern about Anya's mental health. Similar to when he took her to work and had her play in the sandbox, he completely misinterprets her actions as displays of emotional trauma.

I love the interpretation from @sunfoxfic about this side of Twilight's character, to quote:

"His trauma really grounds every action he takes - everything he does is to protect others from experiencing the same trauma. Loid is a highly pragmatic and sympathetic man, and in that way, he's unwaveringly kind to everyone but himself."

Just like the sandbox incident, the scene with Anya at the gift shop is a prime example of Twilight's empathetic side that he keeps hidden from everyone else. Only we as the audience know how much he agonizes about the well-being of those who may have experienced similar trauma as he did. Since Anya's reactions make no sense to him, he can't help but conclude that she has her own share of deep-rooted trauma as well. And, as I've reiterated many times before, rather than express anger or blame her for anything, he puts responsibility on himself to do a better job at trying to understand her. And all of this relates back to what he told Desmond during their first encounter…that he won't stop trying to understand others.

While Yor is keeping watch that night, she has plenty of time to reflect on what happened the day before. As she sits there for hours in silence, we see that her expression has taken on the "robotic" look she had at the very beginning of the series "pre-family," back when her assassination work was all she focused on in her life. This is probably the longest amount of time she's had to continually concentrate on work since meeting Loid and Anya, so it makes sense that her eyes would start to harden like that.

However, when she realizes that she never tried to contact them, her eyes immediately light up as she imagines a scenario where she meets up with them on the ship.

She then starts to wonder why she was hesitating so much when fighting Barnaby. She thinks it could be because she was afraid, not of death or pain, but the fact that if she had gotten seriously injured, she may have had to leave the Forger family. This makes her think back to when Olka asked her why she was so concerned about them since they're just a cover-up family. As I've previously mentioned, Yor has come to realize that being with Loid and Anya makes her happy, but she's also resigned herself to the fact that that happiness can be taken away from her at any minute. So far the biggest threat to her place in the Forgers has been Fiona, but she was able to remedy that by talking with Loid. But this time the threat comes from something where talking isn't an option: an important job from Garden. This is why she tells herself that she needs to keep her priorities straight – as far as she's concerned, her personal happiness is secondary compared to the importance of the job at hand. As she continues to think about the people whose happiness she strives for – Yuri, Loid, and Anya – the same thought she had upon meeting Yuri on the train comes back to her…if none of the people she loves benefit from her assassin work, then why does she need to keep it up?

Continue to Part 21 ->

<- Return to Part 19

[bonny-kookoo]

so how did someone older jk and oc celebrate new years? A midnight kiss?? :)))

Warning for suggestive stuff? It's not quite new years celebration but I honestly started to drift off way too much for a drabble haha

"Oh no!" You gasp out, earning Jungkook's immediate attention as he looks towards where you're standing in his kitchen.

"What's wrong?" He asks, while you hide your face behind your hands. "Darling?" He questions, as he gets up to walk towards you, a letter opened on the counter.

"Oh god I'm so sorry-" you tell him, visibly shaken. "I'm really sorry, I don't know why I- I think I thought I was home and opened it-" you rambles, hands shaking. "I didn't even read it, I swear, it was just-"

"Darling, hey, look at me." He tells you, turning you away from the scene of the crime to instead fully face him, hands on your shoulders. "You're fine." He states, makes sure to emphasize, as you go through the same steps you both go through every time things like these happen.

Breathe. This is Jungkook. Nothing is going to happen.

"There we go." He chuckles, squeezing your shoulders for a split second before he lets go. "What is it about?" He wonders easily, taking the letter to read it.

"I.. I don't know." You mumble, still ashamed. "I just.. read the first line and realized that it's not addressed to me- I really don't know why I even opened it-" You again state in defense, but his hand reaches out to pull you closer holding you gently by your waist.

"Its about that new year's celebration. I told them I wouldn't go this year.." he simply sighs, before he throws the letter and envelope away. "And it's understandable. You've been spending quite a lot of time here recently- I'll take it as a compliment that you feel like this is home." He jokes easily, hands on your hips as he grins at you.

"Why- if there's an event you're invited to you should go though?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"I want to spend it with you." He answers. "Except if you'd like to go with me to that event?" He asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"I.. uhm.. would that even be.. appropriate?" You ask quietly. "Given.. you know. The age difference and all.." you worry, but he shakes his head.

"Its not an issue to me at all, if that's what worries you." He shrugs. "We're both adults. And trust me- our age difference wouldn't be the biggest. One of the investors has a wife almost twenty-five years younger!" He laughs. "Or does it bother you?"

"No, not.. anymore." You admit. "It used to. It felt.. a little intimidating. Sometimes it still does but not as much." You explain.

"I'm glad then." He hums towards you. "So?" He questions. "If you'd like to go, we can. I usually don't like events like these, but if you're there I'd go in a heartbeat." He flirts without realizing it.

"I don't even have.. proper attire. I bet those things are super fancy.." you worry, but he just grins.

"I mean, we still got time. I could call up someone, his wife owns a clothing label, we could go and get something fit for you." He shrugs easily.

"Jungkook, no way!" You gasp. "That.. already sounds way too expensive." You worry.

"Not really. I can just tell her to not mention any cost and you'd never know." He impishly grins, as your back rests against the kitchen counter. "Though.. I'd honestly rather take your.. measurements myself." He purrs, leaning in for a teasing peck.

"I'm just.. that's not.." you stammer, easily overpowered by his recently growing confidence in his pursuit of you. Its clear that he's starting to become comfortable with you to the point of feeling confident in his actions, even in how he reassures you whenever you tend to fall back into old fears.

"Oh but it is. I know exactly what she'd need for a pretty dress." He hums. "And while I already think I know your body like my own.."

"I think I need to make sure I got the measurements correct."