#i'm not his buttercup [answers] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewitchblue · 7 months ago

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"I'm curious about something."

Jason asked you one snowy November. You turned away from your computer to face him with a fond smile on your face. You were working on a case for him by researching the deceased and locating their soul to speak to the victim. He approached you and leaned against the desk. You asked,

"What's up, buttercup? What's on your pretty mind?"

You noticed his hand trying to hold yours, but you turn ghostly to prevent him from touching you. You're a grim reaper, one of several scattered throughout different continents, and very dead. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he asks as casually as possible,

"Is it true about the embrace of death?"

Well, that's a new thought you didn't expect to hear him ask. You blinked in confusion before answering vaguely,

"I'm a Reaper, pretty boy. Consider me one of the Valkyries from Norse mythology; I'm here to guide souls to their specific place. I don't embrace or kiss the souls. Their soul is often already floating around when I get there. That's why some people experience after-death moments with loved ones. Grandma's last kiss, a child holding their mother's hand, parents embracing their newly orphaned children, little things like that."

You weren't sure how to explain your job in a way that makes sense for the living, but you tried. Jason seemed unsatisfied by your answer, so you asked kindly,

"What did you really want to know, my love?"

He frowned at your ghostly hand. Is it really too much to want to touch his partner? He paused and said after a beat of silence,

"I... want to hold your hand and kiss you, but you always pull away. I want to know why."

You gave him a sad look and softly admit,

"I've never touched a living soul since my death. I'm worried what will happen to you if I did touch you."

He grumbled and offered his father as a sacrificial lamb to find out what happens, but you laughed and softly said,

"If you can stomach Bruce being the first man to ever touch me post-mortem, I'll touch him."

You knew that wouldn't be the case. He huffed and pouted, but softly admitted,

"I want to be the first man you ever touch since your death."

You look at him seriously for a moment. You know Jason would drop the topic if you told him no, but part of you wanted to say yes. You weren't sure if you wanted to let this go. You want to hold his hand on a cold winter day and kiss him thousands of times to make up for lost time.

With great hesitation, you touched Jason's arm. He was warm against your timid hand and so muscular. You slowly run your hands along his arms while watching him carefully. You waited to see if he was feeling anything negative. You weren't sure if you felt his life force leaving him or his pulse racing under your hand as you held his wrist in your fingers.

Jason shivered under your light touch. You were freezing cold, but he didn't feel any different than he felt before. You looked in awe that you could touch a living soul without consequences, and he was so smug.

He had a feeling it would be okay to touch you. He thought it was adorable that you wanted to protect him from your ghostly touch, nonetheless. He was only 87% sure he would have been fine. He didn't know if you could turn your power on-and-off like he hoped and now knew was possible.

You hadn't known people could be this warm. You've been dead for so long, you had forgotten. Souls are cold, so you're never warm.

You grin at him and immediate pull him into a kiss. You could kiss him! His soul isn't being pulled out of him! You were ecstatic. Once you started, you found you couldn't stop.

You gave him thousands of kisses as he chuckled. He's never seen you so happy. You held both his hands in your scarred ones.

Your soul shines in happiness, which makes him grin. He loves you and loves the confirmation you loved him, too. Your soul tells him everything you're feeling, and he's never seen you this happy. It's reassuring to see your love for him pulsing throughout your ghostly spirit. It's like you couldn't keep it in.

Your eyes lit up at the new revolution. You were bursting with love and adoration. You tell him as you held his face in your hands,

"These hands are forever yours. You're going to be stuck with me now onwards."

He laughed at the serious tone and kissed your hands with a grin on his face. The lights in your apartment flicker in response to your happiness, but you can't help it. Your powers charge and pulse when you get emotional.

You murmur as you caress his face in your hands,

"I love you."

You run your fingers through his hair while he buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around you.

"I know, pipsqueak."

He nips your neck playfully, partially surprised you let him. You kiss his forehead and draw him closer with your arms,

"Good. You deserve to know."

#jason todd x reader #gn reader #vigilante reader

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liliesdiary · 2 months ago

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➢ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 → Your Lovesick Anonymous, Ghostface, films you as he turns you into his dead dove for choosing wrong once again.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 → 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 → CONTENT WARNING: 18+ ONLY → this porno contains mature themes, graphic content, and disturbing imagery. Viewer deception is strongly advised. Specific warnings include › NON-CON, pornstar!reader, yandere!ghostface, blackmail, power play, strangulation, reader is choked to the point of unconsciousness, porn addict!ghostface, porn mentioned, obsessive!ghostface, love struck!ghostface, hyperfem!reader, obsessive thoughts, knife play, blood, wounds, violent threats, voyeurism, ownership obsession, possessive!ghostface, yandere themes, forced porno!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 → read this route in dark mode for a better reading experience! there will be several routes and dead ends to this interactive story. comment if you want me to continue the dead dove route! lovesick doll is coming soon angels <3 @babysbreathbabes @tooloudarts @dollfacemay @love-me-satoru @smoooth-buttercup @taylormarieee @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @satoru2716 @sra7riddle-malfoy @blurrycal @mindsofjade

🖱️ CLICK TO READ THE DEAD DOVE ROUTE 🖱️

“No?” his voice laced with a hurtful tone sent an unsettling chill down your delicate spine, you made the wrong choice. You were forced to look at the mask that you couldn't bear, trembling as you quickly regretted your answer. ”I'll give you one more chance, my angel.” He quickly pulled out his knife as your heart trembled, his big gloved hands trembling as he held the bloody blade to your throat.

“Yes or No?”

You find yourself trembling, your heart pounding against your chest as if a frightened dove were desperately attempting to escape the next mistake you were about to make. Such a stupid little bird.

“N-no,” You stammer, your heart crumbling into fragments as a sense of regret washes over you, realizing that you have made a mistake when the unsettling silence replaces his voice.

There is not even the faintest hint of a dark chuckle from him—just a threatening silence that hangs in the air. In that stillness, you can almost sense the violent shattering of his heart, the tremor in his hands as they grip the blade, and in that moment, you realize; you were fucked.

Then finally, he lets out his infamous dark chuckle, “You've made the wrong choice, doll.” A wave of tension courses through your body as his grip on your chin grows more tighter, his fingers trembling with a dangerous temptation to break your delicate jaw before the eyes of your countless admirers. Again and again, you have made the wrong choice, now it's time to suffer the consequences.

Before you could call out for help, he gripped your soft throat, his nails pressing into your tender skin for all to witness through the lens of the camera. “I’ll violate you either way.”

“I'll tear your pretty angel wings off, and violate you for everyone to watch and see.” He said so cruelly, almost as if he wasn't just confessing his undying love for you.

“I'm going to make you regret choosing no.” He said as he pulled your infamous mask from your face, your pathetic eyes going wider as he threatened to show your pretty face to everyone. He gripped your throat in a certain way so no one could see your face but him. It belonged to him anyway.

You could sense your body gradually succumbing to unconsciousness, your thoughts becoming increasingly muddled as his sharp nails pressed deeply into your soft throat. He had the choice to tilt your face slightly enough for everyone to see your true identity, but your thoughts wasn't even focused on it. You just wanted to fucking live.

You attempted to cry out for help, but before anyone watching could see, he swiftly clamped his hand over your pretty mouth. “Silence. Dead doves don't speak..” He terrifyingly whispered to you as your wide eyes trembled in front of him. “They don't move, devoid of breath.”

The black empty eyes in his mask staring deep into your soul as you could only stare in fear as you feel yourself slip away from your violation. “They simply die.” His breath quickened, a rapid rhythm echoing in the tense air as his hands tightened around your throat, staring at those pretty eyes he loved to terrorize. You were so perfect, it was such a shame you kept making the wrong choice, again and again. It deeply disappointed him that he had to make this choice. It made him fucking sick.

“Now be a good dove for me, and die.” He whispers as you fully lose yourself, your eyes roll back as his lovesick hands won't stop strangling your throat. You attempt to pry his masked hands away from your aching throat, but your efforts only result in him tilting his head slightly, a sinister smirk playing beneath the horror of his mask. His lovesick eyes welled with tears as he watched you struggle.

He wanted you alive.

For years, he had longed to possess you as his obedient little doll, but you continually chose wrong, and his patience was wearing thin. Trembling with intensity, his hands shook as he gazed deeply into your frightened eyes, struggling to quell the dark impulses that urged him to end your life.

“Why couldn't you just pick yes?” He darkly asks as you were already gone. Your heart raced slowly, caught in the grip of his hands that still seemed to squeeze the very essence of life from you. His gaze bore into you, fixated on your pretty lips, which were parted in a desperate struggle for breath as he deprived you of it.

“Pathetic little dove, didn't I tell you that dead doves don't breathe?” He murmurs to himself, unable to resist the temptation, he pulls you into a forceful kiss as you look like a dying dove on the brink of collapse. “It's okay, dove. I'll take care of you.”

“I'll make you mine.”

As you awaken, the creaking of the bed fills the air, and you struggle to open your little eyes as you hear his lovesick groans. A dull ache permeates your body, and your vision is extremely blurry, the only thing you can see is the camera right in front of your barely conscious face. Your head feels distant, drifting in and out of awareness. You sense the weight of his rough hands pressing down on you, anchoring you in place as he thrusted his cock deep into your virgin cunt, and finally claiming what was his.

“Stay still, little dove.” He whispers darkly as he feels your limp body start to stir. “I'm just claiming what is mine.”

Your body instinctively tries to push him away, your drenched cunt trying to reject his throbbing member, but the feeling of your cunt trying to reject him only made him love you more. You could feel his cock thrusting deeper and deeper, and you could only cry. You could hear him laughing at your weak little whimpers, he was so fucking sick and sadistic.

He wipes the tears off your soft face as you could barely keep your eyes open, your mind was too hazy, too weak to fully grasp the situation here. You could only feel his sweet loving hands, pinning you down and forcing you to take it in front of thousands of people while your mask was completely off.

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You could see the chat, but you were completely out of it, unable to read how your fans got off to your violation. How cruel, it made your eyes fill with pathetic tears, yet it also made your cunt throb for more. How sickening.

His thrusts were violent as he whispered disturbing things into your ear, “How do you feel, little bird?”

“How do you feel about thousands of people watching me violate their little star, and not a single one is concerned for you?” He muttered against your ear, getting off on the fact that everyone was just as turned on as he was. You fucking hated him.

“Stop p-please stop” You pathetically beg, yet the sounds of his cock thrusting deeper into you drowned out your pathetic pleads.

“What was that, little dove?” He forcefully grabbed your throat, forcing you to face him as you could barely breathe.

“You want me to stop, dove?” He asked in a sweet mocking voice, your heart throbbing at the cruel tone. You desperately nodded your head, your wide submissive eyes begging him to stop.

“Oh what was that? You want me to fuck you harder?” He asked cruelly, knowing you were begging for the opposite, and it only made him harder. You let out a loud whimper, shaking your head desperately as he fucked your overfilled cunt harder. You could barely breathe as he strangled you, fucking your cunt over and over again to show how much he fucking loved you.

You cry out so pathetically, but he just softly kisses your pretty head, “Play dead and I won't kill you after this, little dove.”

You could feel his cock drilling into your drenched cunt as you struggled to stay still, your eyes rolling back as you couldn't escape him. You couldn't get him off no matter how many times you tried, your little body struggling so much beneath him. Your abused cunt throbbing as he fucked you like a feral animal in heat, releasing into your unwilling cunt serval times.

You could feel the cum dripping between your legs, causing you to tremble and cry. You could feel the blood from your stab wound leaking, the blood staining your pink sheets as he kept thrusting into you.

The blood spilling from the wound he inflicted on you only turns him on more, “is my little dove bleeding?”

He holds you closer to him, not letting you go as he touches your wounds so gently, “this is what happens when you try to run from me.”

You feel a chill run down your trembling spine, as he softly whispers into your ear, touching your wound so sweetly as he threatened you at the same time. Your glass heart couldn't take it anymore, you needed to fucking escape him.

His gloved hands were stained with your blood, touching your wound so sweetly, it pained you so much. “I’ve missed you so much, do you remember the last time we saw each other?”

Your glass heart shattered when he reminds you of what he did, the inhumane acts he committed against your friends. The way he slaughtered them like animals, and left you to die.

“Do you remember the way they all screamed?” He asked with a sickening smirk beneath his mask, the same mask he wore on that very night. You remembered it all, that night haunted you daily, the way he massacred them and got away with it.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, his heart couldn't stop beating so fast as thought about that very night. He was completely obsessed with you the moment he violated you that night. And you just wanted to scream and cry.

“I remember the way you screamed, the way you looked at me with those pretty angelic eyes..” He said as he pointed the bloody knife to your face, the tip of the cold blade so close to your trembling eyes.

You were forced to look at the blood stained blade, the same blade he used to kill your friends. “I never stopped thinking about you since that night, the way I left a mark on you..” He whispered darkly as he felt your wound, the same spot he stabbed you at so long ago.

“You love me, don't you?” Oh you fucking hated him.

He forced you to look at him as he thrusted deep into your throbbing cunt, “Say it. Say that you love me, little dove.”

You trembled against his chest, feeling so fucking sick from the situation. You hated him, you wanted to fucking kill him.

“Say it.” He threatened as he pulled the knife closer to your throat, blood spilling from your delicate throat as you felt so fucking trapped.

In that intense moment, you attempted to defend yourself, reaching for the knife to fend him off, but you were so fucking weak. You managed to slash him across the chest, squirming away and knocking the camera over.

“You fucking stupid bitch.” He groaned as he felt the blade pierce his chest, his heart beating so fast at the sight of you escaping, his little bird trying to escape his grasp once more, he couldn't let you escape. never again.

You run as fast as you can, your legs trembling with each step. You could feel his cum dripping down your legs, feeling you with so much disgust. You were completely naked, your body exposed as you opened your door and made a run for it. You didn't care about who saw you, you just needed to run away from that sick fuck.

"dont fucking run from me. I'll fucking rip you apart when I catch you."

You could hear his footsteps chasing you with the blade in his hands, his little bird who managed to escape. This had turned into a relentless chase, and he was determined not to let you escape.

The hallways of the dormitory were deserted, and despite your desperate screams, no one heard your pathetic attempts to escape him. You could hear him laughing at you beneath that mask, laughing at how pathetic you looked. He was going to fucking kill you for this.

“You can't run forever, little dove.”

「 Hide in Bathroom 」 or 「 Keep Running 」

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azsazz · 7 months ago

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Over Ice (Part 6)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Mentions of reader's fictional father passing away.

Word Count: 3678

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Notes: Lowkey feel like I'm losing the plot here but we'll see what happens. 🤞🏻

_________________________________________

“You should’ve dressed up as a naughty schoolgirl, show him how bad you really are,” your roommate, Gwyn, teases softly while Mor finishes the artwork that is her hair in the bathroom.

You snort, readjusting the top of your strapless green dress Mor forced you into. Dress being the relative term because this is no more than a scrap of silk with lace lining the hem. The bottom of the dress hardly covers the tops of your thighs, and if you drop something tonight, there will be no picking it up, lest you flash the entire hockey house your panties.

You don’t know how you’ve managed to get invited to another party. Of course, Rhys is Mor’s cousin and you’re sure that he had more than a little to do with you and your roommates attending this evening, but you’re surprised that Mor actually agreed to going. Usually, she’s up for any sort of antics that don’t revolve around sports, like frat parties or bars that don’t check ID’s, and you can’t help but wonder where this change of heart has come from.

Gwyn looks surprisingly chipper for someone who barely leaves the apartment, even more so for someone who has held strong on her stance never to attend a single hockey game nor party during her time at Velaris U. Another one with a harsh rule, you think, her determination reminding you of Rhys and his law that you and his teammates don’t mix.

Pfft, and here you are, getting ready to attend their Halloween party.

You’re not sure what Gwyn has against hockey, but right now, you appreciate that she’s coming more than she could ever know. You’re glad you missed out on whatever method Mor used to get her to come, but she looks cute in her pink dress. Her long, auburn hair is tied back with a big, red bow, and she has clip on bangs in for her costume as Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls. Mor claimed Bubbles, though you were hoping she would want to be Buttercup because her attitude more than matches the little green girls’.

You suppose you’ll need Buttercups strength tonight, because you’re more than determined to piss Rhysand off.

“He’s seen my psych grades, I think he already knows how bad I am,” you answer carefully, slipping your thigh-high white socks on. There’s an intricate lace fringe at the top, and you must admit, Mor picked out the perfect attire for your costumes. She’s somehow managed to give a children’s cartoon the perfect amount of skin for the occasion.

The only thing you’re not looking forward to is the tall, chunky boots she somehow managed to sneak into your dorm two weeks ago. You’ll never underestimate your best friend’s ability to curate the perfect costume.

Neither Mor nor Gwyn know that your tutor is Rhysand Cunningham. You haven’t had the guts to bring it up to Mor, even though your relationship with her cousin is nothing short of formal. Okay, so his teasing texts earlier and having to pretend to be his girlfriend in the presence of his ex weren’t keeping away from each other by any means, but there’s nothing going on between you two, so there’s no need to worry your friend.

You’re strapping your feet into the platform pumps when Mor emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of hairspray. Her pigtails are much more adult than her character in the cartoon, mostly because she has much more hair, nearly reaching the curve of her ass on a good day. She’d never let it cover one of her best assets.

“Oh my gosh, you two look so fucking good!” She squeals, jumping in place. The guys at the party are going to love this look on her because even you can’t stop staring at the way her breasts jiggle with her joy. That pushup bra is doing wonders for her already perky tits, and you’re going to have to ask her where she got it because you need to order one as soon as possible.

“You look amazing, Mor,” you compliment, pushing to your feet. You wobble a little but manage to gain your balance quickly enough. You take a tentative step towards the counter where you left your pre-party drink.

“I know,” Mor grins, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder. Her brown eyes sparkle with pride and a little bit of tequila. “We’re killing these costumes.” She walks in her boots like she was born in them. She flicks at Gwyn’s fake bangs with a snicker. “Gwynie, you look hot.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turn as red as her hair. “Thanks,” she shrugs bashfully. “But do we have to go to the hockey house tonight? I heard it’s going to be bumping at Rita’s tonight.”

You wonder if Mor is going to ask what the both of you have been dying to know since Gwyn’s sour reaction the first time hockey was ever mentioned under this roof. You don’t know what kind of beef she has with the sport, or maybe one of the players, but she’s made it more than known on multiple occasions that the topic is taboo, and she’ll never attend anything that has the slightest correlation to hockey.

Your gaze flicks to Mor. Her brows are furrowed and she’s not normally one to give pause, opting to blurt out whatever comes to mind, but right now she’s giving Gwyn the benefit of the doubt and thinking through her options here.

In the end, she goes for pouting, because she knows that neither of you can resist. “But you promised you’d come!”

You don’t know how Mor made that happen, let alone Gwyn promising to join, and you really want to know. Gwyn sighs in a defeated way that makes you ache for her. It’s hard to get her to come out to a non-hockey related event this semester, and that’s also something you’re going to have to talk to her about sometime because you miss your friend on nights out.

Maybe you can stay in one weekend with her, too.

“I know, I know,” Gwyn says, pouring a shot of vodka into a cup. She slams it back and you can see the way that she’s working through the battery acid-like taste, the way she builds herself up before she continues. “Let’s go.”

“You ready?” James asks, trying to smother his amusement. You’re hardly even touching him as you dance together, and yet you can still feel Rhys’ harsh glare from the center of the makeshift living room dancefloor.

“Not a chance,” you respond, and your palms are damp just thinking about it.

“Good, because here he comes,” he warns, right before you’re ripped away from him.

Rhys stands like a raging bull, complete with nostrils flaring, and you’re pretty sure he’s digging his foot into the ground like he’s about to charge. You can’t help but to giggle at his antics, and you can’t wait to see how this plays out.

James swallows harshly, all of the amusement washes from his face as he pales. He’s still too green on the team to really know Rhys all that well, and right now, he’s regretting deciding to tease his captain, even if it is for the greater good.

You and your classmate had come to an agreement. Your roommates didn’t question you when James appeared at your side with a shot in hand and a question to dance. In fact, they all but shoved you into his arms, giggling and whispering to each other before you’d even had the chance to turn around.

They’re somewhere around here, and hopefully, they’re not close enough to watch how this plays out.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, cap.”

“James,” Rhys grits. He looks like an avenging angel, except that he’s dressed as a vampire. You can’t tell if the cape tied around his neck is sexy or not, but his white button down that shows off the top of his chest most definitely is.

It’s offset by the plastic fangs poking out from his lips is most definitely cuter than anything.

Everything you notice about him is a confusing jumble.

“How are you enjoying the party?” James all but squeaks, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. You feel kind of bad for your new friend, putting himself in the line of fire like this, but as soon as your bargain falls into place with Rhys, you’re going to try your best to make it worthwhile for James.

“Scram kid, before I make you do laps the entire next practice,” Rhys grunts and you can’t control yourself, you burst into laughter.

Rhys turns towards you, confused. You straighten, wiping pretend tears from your face. “I’m sorry, did you just fucking say scram?”

“So, what if I did?” Rhys asks, and he’s clearly enjoying that smile he’s put on your face. His chest puffs with pride, but he pouts and your grin widens.

“I just didn’t know we time-traveled back to the 1900’s.”

Rhys makes a face at you that is all too endearing. He pokes you on the arm and you jerk away before retaliating.

“Hey!” You whine when he traps your wrists in one large hand, poking you in the sides with the other. The way you’re squirming makes him wonder if you’d be moving like that in his bed. He immediately releases you and you straighten your dress, feeling the shift in the atmosphere. “I’m, uh, going to get a drink,” you mutter. Finding the roommates you’d abandoned might be helpful as well.

Just as you’re about to spin on your heel, Rhys’ groan of agony stops you.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” He curses, and his entire playboy protective captain aura goes up in flames. Now he’s a frustrated, annoyed boy whose clingy ex won’t take a fucking hint.

“Who?” You question, rolling cautiously onto your tiptoes to try and see who Rhys is talking about. You can’t see a damn thing in the darkness of the house. You’re not even sure where your own roommates are.

“Amarantha,” Rhys sighs, then, more frantic. “Fuck, we made eye contact. Hold my hand.”

You hide your excitement. This is perfect. Not planned, by any means, because you’re not evil, but it will further your plans. Just after you play with Rhysand a little bit longer. “What? No way!”

Rhys shoots you a dry look. “Jesus, (Y/N), don’t spare my feelings, or anything.”

“Sorry,” you grin, sheepishly.

“Please,” he begs, and you try not to let it show how much him pleading affects you. You thought you were hot before, but now you’re fucking dripping. “I’ll do anything.”

You try not to let your mind wander into what anything could mean. Maybe you need another drink to cool yourself down, or make your mind a little more imaginative.

Rhys’ gaze flicks worriedly to where his ex is stalking your way with a purpose.

Right, back on track.

“Fine,” you hiss, mostly because you can’t stand those sad eyes he’s giving you. You know it’s a ploy, but if it gets him to stop pestering you, you’ll do it. Plus, if Rhys sees that you’re willing to play his little game, it’ll be much easier to bring up the internship you want with the team. “Put your arm around me.”

He does much more than that. Rhys throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side. You jump at the warmth and ignore the look of confusion he shoots you.

“If you don’t put your hands on me, she’s not going to believe that you’re my girlfriend.”

“And why is that?” you mutter, scouring the crowd for his ex-girlfriend. She shouldn’t be so hard to find with her bright hair and menacing presence, but there’s no sign of her yet, even with your sky-high heels on.

“Because, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend,” Rhys growls, but his unhappiness isn’t directed at you. His violet eyes dark with violence. He looks like he could still hunt James down and strangle him just for dancing with you.

“But I’m not, really,” you counter, trying to keep up your withering façade. Truth is, you’ve done exactly what you set out to do, prove to Rhys that his rules mean nothing to you and that you’re never going to be one of those girls who lets a man tell her what to do.

When you step closer to Rhys to better berate him over the loud music, you barely notice James slinking back into the crowd. He uses you as a distraction for his captain, just like the both of you planned.

“But you are,” Rhys hisses, and you refuse to like the way your body reacts to his words. His arm is a warm weight around your arm as he guides you in the direction of the living room. In the threshold, he stops you, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be focusing on when his front is pressed up against your back like this and there’s a hardness pressing against you that you’d never be able to ignore.

“When she’s around,” Rhys starts, and his breath against your ear makes it difficult not to shiver. He nods toward the crowd, right to where his ex is oblivious, dancing with her friends. She’s dressed as some kind of sexy witch, which is fitting, since you’ve met her and know her attitude is worse than nice. “You’re all mine, (Y/N). If I want your hands all over me, you’ll do it. If I want to kiss you, you won’t pull away,” you clutch the drink in your hand tighter, and your thighs mirror the motion. “And if we get a little carried away…” he trails off. His hands resting on your hips curve around your front. You can feel him like a brand through the thin fabric of your dress. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but to lean further into him. “Well, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

You glare, but he’s right. The only reason you’re so vehemently against this idea is because Mor could catch you at any second.

“Fine. But I need your help with something in exchange.” It hurts you to admit it, but James said that there wasn’t much he could do to guarantee you an internship with the team, and you can admit that it would look really good on your applications to say that you aided in athletic training for Vulcan U’s hockey team.

Too bad you know exactly who does hold sway with their coach, and he’s also your tutor.

And an arrogant asshole.

“Oh?” He quirks a cocky brow and you regret asking him immediately. You don’t like that spark of intrigue in his eyes. “Now I have something that you want?”

You grit your teeth and shove at his chest. His hands don’t move from around your waist, keeping you pressed tightly against his body. To the other partygoers, you pushing at him might look playful, and, reading the smug smile on Rhys’ face, he thinks the same.

“Yes,” you admit, shoulders dropping. You don’t know why you’re finding it so difficult to look at those sparkling violet eyes of his, but you drag your gaze across the party, taking in the different costumes and couples gyrating in the middle of his living room. Rhys allows you to find you words, and when you return your eyes to his, you find him staring down at you with a soft look on his face.

“I was speaking with James,” you start, and his grip tightens on your hips. Rhys’ mouth flattens and his eyes sharpen, jerking from yours to scour the crowd for his teammate. “Hey,” you swat at his arm, gaining his attention. “I didn’t think you needed the reminder that I can speak to who I want.”

“And I didn’t think you needed the reminder that you can’t put moves on any of my players,” Rhys says, leaning down to growl in your ear. His lips brush the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine, and your fingers tighten in his shirt. Hopefully he reads it as your annoyance and not because you don’t trust how wobbly your knees have just become. “Except for me, because I have a feeling that we’re about to make a deal. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

You lean away from him, just enough to meet his eyes again. They’re as intense as they are playful, and when his thumb strokes your hip, you all but cave.

“A deal?” You echo, because they’re the only words in your vocabulary that haven’t disappeared from your mind.

Rhysand’s lips tug into the biggest self-fucking-satisfied smile you’ve ever seen, and that’s when you realize that your gaze has wandered down to his perfect, kissable lips.

You shove against his chest again and this time he relents, allowing a few inches of space between you. It’s barely enough, though. Every exhale has your chests brushing, but you manage to wedge your arms into the space and cross them over your chest.

You definitely don’t miss the way Rhys’ eyes flick down to your breasts that you’re conveniently pushing up for his viewing pleasure.

“What do you want, darling?” He purrs, and damn him for being so fucking sexy. And the fact that he’s dressed as a vampire…gods, he’s every woman’s wet dream. “Do you want my hands?” He drags his palms across your hips and it feels like there’s no fabric between his hands and your skin at all. “Do you want my brains?” He waggles his eyebrows, grinning when you break into a smile against your will. Rhys leans in closer, too close. You can’t breathe. “Or my blood?”

You squeal when he latches himself to your neck. The plastic vampire teeth poke into your skin but all you can focus on is his lips on your skin, the way you’re about to fucking combust—

“Incoming,” a voice shouts and Rhys rips himself away from you. He winces as soon as he straightens and sees his roommates charging toward the both of you with drinks in their hands. Thankfully, Cassian and Azriel haven’t seem to have noticed whatever was just happening between you and Rhysand, which is good, because you don’t know what the hell that was, either.

You don’t even have the time to think about it because the hockey players are infiltrating your space, and you lose your breath at the sight of them.

Azriel’s dressed as Nightwing. You thought Rhys was every woman’s wet dream, but Azriel, Azriel is wet dream fuel. His black hair hangs across his forehead. A black eye mask covers most of his face, but it’s the skin-tight pleather bodysuit that really does the costume in. There’s a blue bird with its wings expanded across his chest, and the costume does nothing to hide how muscular he is.

You wonder who the hell got him into that costume, and if they’re even still alive because the look on his face is set so harsh that a single glance might just make you drop dead.

Or your panties drop.

Rhysand coughs and nudges you in the shoulder, snapping you from your trance. He’s frowning down at you in disapproval, and it takes little effort to grin back up at him, annoying him further. If he really didn’t think you wanted to fall into bed with any of his teammates, he’s sure thinking it now.

And he doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

Cassian’s costume is some sort of sexy chef, sans shirt, but he dons an apron that reads, ‘this guy rubs his own meat’ with an arrow pointing south. He has a chef’s hat on and is carrying a spatula that you know can only spell out trouble, and you barely even know the guy.

Mor and Gwyn plow into the circle as well. Mor slips between you and Rhys first, and it’s really for the best, but you’re already missing his warmth, despite the mugginess in the air. He shoots you a look that tells you you’ll be finishing your conversation later and you nod softly, loosening your shoulders and focusing on the conversation at hand.

Gwyn follows, so she’s wedged between you and Mor. She looks entirely uncomfortable here, eyes downcast to the floor, avoiding any and all eye contact. Her fingers are white-knuckled around her solo cup and you worry that she might crack the thing any second, so you silently wind your arm with hers and give her a reassuring smile that she can barely return.

You think you need to get her home soon. She’s clearly not having any fun at all, and Mor’s too busy taking over the conversation to notice.

“We need to play a game, or something,” she whines to her cousin, who rolls his eyes in response. For whatever reason, Rhy is not impressed with the idea, most likely because all of the games his cousin likes to play at parties involve touching or secrets or kissing…or drinking so much that he doesn’t remember what happened and wakes up regretting his entire existence the morning following.

What Rhys wouldn’t mind would be actually kissing you, and if he indulges his cousin, she can’t be mad should fate pair you and him together for an innocent kiss. He wants to know if you taste just as sweet as you smell, because the nip to your neck was nowhere near enough.

The only problem is, his ex is lingering around his house somewhere. He can’t join the game lest she join or, even worse, out you as his fake girlfriend in front of Mor who made it more than clear that you are completely off limits to him.

It only makes him want you that much more.

“Okay,” he answers, and your head snaps to his in surprise. “Let’s play a game.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @itsinherited

#rhys acotar #rhysand/reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #rhysand x reader #acotar hockey au #over ice #hockey!bat boys #hockey!rhysand

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lune-redd · 1 year ago

Text

Hello, it's Lelly.

As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.

This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?

I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).

The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!

I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.

I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.

tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.

Adios.

-Lelly

#if youre confused by my wording im so sorry i dont often write long paragraphs like this in my spare time

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mambodork · 8 months ago

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If you dont mind me asking, For the hoa buttercups au, how did they find out that they were not 'normal'/they were possessing bodies?

(Not really sure how to word this, but thank you for this silly au, and tysm if you answer my question!

Hope you have a nice day/night!

I think at the beginning, Grian would actually make an effort to make eyes instead of having them just be hollow sockets... not necessarily that he's trying to hide that he's a watcher, he just didn't want to freak out the others.

When he joined Hermitcraft S6, he did the entire "I'm gonna take your mustache away" bit with Mumbo. He actually did end up taking his mustache away, only to reveal that the mustache IS Mumbo Jumbo (my mental image of this is just him holding on to the mustache going all "YES. I DID IT! I TOOK HIS MUSTACHE!" Only for the mustache to suddenly go "Well this is incredibly rude" and Grian immediately flings him to the other side of the room out of surprise).

As for Scar, Grian had always known that he refers to himself and Cub as vexes, but he always assumed that he said it as like a bit, or maybe that he has a vex lineage or is a hybrid of some kind. My headcanon rn on how G found out is that one day, Grian went and spooked Scar so hard from a prank or something that he went through an out-of-body experience (literally) and just, seperated the vex out of the body. Scar is just "Oh gosh, that scared the life out of me (haha get it)" and Grian is just looking at him like. "Wait you're an actual vex." Meanwhile Scar is looking at him all confused saying "??? You didn't know???"

And how Scar & Mumbo found out abt Grian... I like to think that Grian eventually kinda forgot that the others dont know and just think whatever he's doing is normal. Im thinking Scar goes to complain to Grian one day, and the convo would go something along the lines of:

"Im so hungry but i dont have a body to eat."

"Oh. You can just eat one of my bodies, i think this one's gonna expire soon anyways."

"What."

"What?"

Eventually, Grian clocked in on the fact that "Oh yeah. Im actually not normal i forgot about that." And just kinda ditched the entire appearing human look and got rid of the eyes so he could have easy access to get in and out of the body if he wanted to.

Yeah.. my headcanon is that they never really meant to hide it or anything. There has just been a lot of not knowing and miscommunication going on 😭 this might change in the future though, idk !!

#hoa buttercups au asks #vale asks

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ckret2 · 3 months ago

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I'm now hopelessly enamored with your Aku hcs... do you have any more? Are you interested in Jack/Aku - is that something that could even work out?

Oh boy do I ever. This is 1/2 headcanons and 1/2 extreme elaboration/extrapolation from canon info.

I'm gonna put this under a read more with a ✨table of contents✨ both so I remember what's under here and so anyone who's only intrigued by one or two of these can skip the rest.

Aku's literally a tree, like not as a meme joke, he's a tree

You make an Aku with a tree+darkness+poison+fire+arrow+curse

That's the reason the future, although devastated, isn't deforested

"Samurai Jack & Powerpuff Girls are the same universe and Aku is Chemical X" is the oldest headcanon in the fandom but I have it too. That tree is Mojo's dad. He'll also accept credit for Buttercup.

Lulu, sweet thing

Aku sorta remembers being a space blob but his life/identity didn't "start" until the poison flaming arrow

Aku likes techno music. He has solo dance parties.

Aku doesn't have any friends

here's a list of Aku's friends

Aku could have friends

Here's what Aku's attracted to (idk what Aku's attracted to)

Aku's a total homebody, he doesn't wanna go places and do stuff, he wants to sit at home in his castle and rule his one planet.

Before Jack, Aku was genuinely super happy. Like this: ☻ ☻ ☻ ☻ ☻

Aku would have the same emotional reaction to doing good things as good people have to being forced to do evil

Aku's actually very polite. This isn't even a headcanon, it's just an intrigued observation of canon.

I'll answer the Jack/Aku question in another post because my god this one is long enough already.

1. I know we make plenty of "lol aku's a tree" jokes but like, I headcanon he's literally a tree. As in the forest of suspiciously tree-shaped spikes he came from was ACTUALLY, in some biological sense, a hideous mutation of trees. Some tree got The Ooze™ on it and that was the basis of Aku long before magic poisons got involved. If you say "don't think just answer what are you made out of and you can't say 'evil' or 'darkness'" Aku would say "wood." He still considers himself a tree. When he's in his default form his "skin" feels like bark. Evil bark.

2. beyond just a tree, in a magical sense Aku is "made of" Pure All-Consuming Darkness, trees, poison, fire, an arrow, & a curse. These are his component parts. This is what you need to create him. The official Aku Recipe. He wouldn't exist if any of these parts had been missing in his creation. Is it any wonder that Mr. Darkness/Poison/Fire/Arrows/Curses (Also Trees) named himself Evil. Those are some pretty evil things. Except for the trees.

3. because he's Tree—you know how many lush jungles and beautiful old growth forests and such Jack travels through? Seems kind of weird for a planet that's been ruthlessly exploited with zero environmental protections for thousands of years, yeah? Why hasn't Earth been deforested to hell and back? When we're told that Aku's wrung Earth so dry of resources that he started inviting in aliens just to get more resources to exploit... it's weird that there's still so much of Earth that looks decidedly un-exploited and un-devastated.

And I headcanon that Aku, just. he fuckin likes trees, man. Not in a "good" way—he doesn't leave forests alone for the good of the environment, he doesn't do it to live in peace and harmony with nature, he doesn't do it because the beautiful savage wilds are more pure and morally uplifting than the polluted overdeveloped modern urban cities or any creepy bunk like that. He's still evil. In the most morally neutral way possible, Aku likes trees.

So if he doesn't see any particular benefit to exploiting a forest—like, if he doesn't KNOW there's magical rubies or whatever beneath the forest—he goes "ah, this place is worthless. Leave it alone and let's move on." If a town or mine or whatever has already had every drop of usefulness squeezed out of it, rather than like, maintaining this blighted land as a barren wasteland, he's like "right, this place is a waste of resources now, I don't want it anymore, abandon this place and leave it to be reclaimed by the wild. No, of course the nearby village can't take over the abandoned warehouse and use it to house their devastated community. In fact, burn down the village for asking."

Aku uses up swathes of Earth until they have nothing left to give and moves on. But Jack's (and the audience's) idea of a used-up wasteland is like that burned forest with a single tree Jack shows Ashi. But that burned forest is the exception: it's Aku making an example of this place. Aku's idea of a used-up wasteland is a forest. A forest that's grown over a land that's given all it has to give, a forest that's tangled and unbalanced and poor in useful/edible plants because it's been uncultivated by human hands, a forest with no people because they've been stolen away and shipped somewhere they can be put to work.

Aku likes forests. Aku doesn't care for forests.

He doesn't set up natural parks or nature preserves or anything. He does sometimes set up fences & guards if he thinks a forest might have temptingly useful resources to a nearby human settlement and he thinks it'd be fun to deprive the humans of those benefits.

He doesn't advertise that he likes trees, because an asshole like him has a lot of enemies; and when Aku wants to hurt an enemy, he finds out what the enemy likes and wants and needs and then goes about depriving his enemy of that in any way possible just to make them miserable so he can laugh at them. Would not his enemies do the same to him? Would they not burn the wilderness of a whole continent to the ground just to break his heartwood?

(Propose this to Jack and he'd look at you like you're nuts. He doesn't think like Aku.)

4. I'm not the first person to headcanon this, I won't be the last person to headcanon this, there are people out there who think that this headcanon is actually canon, and there are probably even more people out there who are tired of this headcanon. However. I think Aku is the source of Chemical X in Powerpuff Girls. Powerpuff Girls takes place in the post-Samurai Jack world where Aku was killed a mere 17 years after his reign began and the rest of the world was never conquered. Aku's dead, but the pit of hate—the goo pool he came from—remains.

So here's what you gotta do. You take some evil goo. Then you mix up a specific formula that happens to be very poisonous, you set it on fire, you propel it at high speed into the goo, and you shake it up a bit. And bam—you've got Chemical X. Just don't pour the Chemical X on something, like a tree, or it might turn evil; and for the love of god don't place a curse on the evil tree or it might come alive.

There's a single tar pit in Japan that sources the goo needed to create Chemical X. Professor Utonium's ancestors come from that area of Japan. (Probably someone in the lineage leading to him was a maternal ancestor, he doesn't have a very Japanese last name.) His family has been fuckin around with that goo for centuries—keeping people away from it, experimenting with it, cleaning up the mess when it breaks containment and does something terrible like get on a tree that someone placed a curse on yeah you can figure out where this is going, "Utonium and Jack are related" also isn't a new or original headcanon.

Get Chemical X on anything and it gets Akutized a la Jack with the Aku Infection. Symptoms of Chemical X poisoning include: turning void-black with green features and possible reddish accents; aggression and violent tendencies; power-hunger; an ambition to oppress, dominate, or conquer the area and/or world; a fascination/attraction toward darkness, evilness, or villainy; a craving to collect vast material wealth and riches; and if you get a really big dose sometimes a vaguely Japanese accent and an urge to adopt a more menacing/badass name.

In other words, you get Mojo Jojo. He's basically the direct heir to Aku's legacy. He has no idea who Aku is.

At lower doses, other symptoms include abilities that some people might consider superpowers, such as super strength, time travel, and laser eyes.

The "everything nice" in the Powerpuff Girls' recipe balances out the evil in the ingredient at the base of Chemical X, hence why they don't have most of the symptoms of Chemical X poisoning. But the girls didn't get an equal amount of "everything nice."

The girl who got the least is the one who has black hair and green eyes; glories in opportunities to commit violence for violence's sake; received a single dollar and immediately got so unhinged with greed that she declared she now understood Mojo, attempted to knock out her sister's teeth so she could trade them to the tooth fairy for more money, and finally went around assaulting villains for their teeth; briefly had a baby-crush on the leader of the lowkey-villainous Gangreen Gang; at one point decided to become a "cooler" superhero by making an actual goddamn demonic bargain to gain the ability to turn into a pitch-black living shadow with glowing green eyes and adopting (a kindergartener's idea of) a menacing/badass name ("Mange"); and, let's be frank, whose hairdo would fit right in amongst the Daughters of Aku.

Buttercup is essentially as "related" to Aku as the Daughters are, and maybe a little more since they didn't really inherit his personality/tastes.

"Hey, why have you put so much thought into this headcanon?" I think it would be fun if after Jack comes back from the future and thrashes Aku around some more, Aku panics, creates a second time portal and jumps through it himself, lands in the future, and gets told these three adorable little crimefighting girls are his daughters and this monkey is his son. Imagine it. Imagine Mojo looking up at Aku with awe in his eyes and asking if he could please hear another story about taking over the world... father. 🥺 Imagine someone plopping Bubbles in his hands and going "and this is another one of yours!" Imagine the look on his face as he stares at this sweet-hearted giggly little pigtailed thing and tries to make sense of that. His face would look like 8C

5. I don't think Lulu made it. I'm sorry.

6. I think Aku vaguely remembers being a big evil space blob, but like, not very well. Kind of as a distant dream. I think he considers "himself" as starting the moment Jack's dad arrowed him; he has memories of the stuff that was around before then, but none of that was Aku, it was just the raw materials of what would become Aku. That was some other guy that got blasted by the gods. I think he's vaguely aware that he's the scion of the space blob, but he doesn't regard it as a parent or an elder or a superior, if the space blob survived and Aku met it I doubt he would have an emotional attachment to it. But he's sort of aware that the space blob's enemies are his enemies—anyone who wanted it dead wants him dead—and so he sorta tries (unsuccessfully) to stay off their radar.

7. it's not clear what Aku's relationship is to the rave music used to mind-control the teens. It's called Aku's music but like, did he literally compose it? Did he commission it to be composed to mind-control kids? Did he just go "yeah this is groovy" and slap his stamp of approval on it? Was the CD handed out to kids in town like an Aku's Favorite Club Hits compilation album?

Anyway my headcanon is that Aku just,, really likes rave music. His scientists approached him like "Aku we have discovered a way to mind-control people using music—" "YES! WE WILL BRAINWASH THE YOUTH WITH TECHNO!" "Lord Aku, it could be any genre of music—" "WITH TECHNO!!!"

the logical next question is does Aku go to raves. And no. I don't think he's social enough for that. He just hangs out alone in the Pit of Hate blasting psytrance and grooving by himself.

8. I don't think Aku, like, has friends. This probably isn't a groundbreaking opinion. He's not very friendly. But sometimes evil supervillains have pals anyway y'know? I don't think he does. He doesn't go out to socialize with anyone (unless he's up to something in the IDW comics I don't know about), he doesn't invite people over, everyone who comes to his castle—refugees, employees, contractors, would-be assassin—is there purely on business.

I don't think he's lonely—or if he is, he has no idea and no urge to change it. I think he does have a need to socialize, but talking to ten strangers for two minutes each would be just as satisfying as talking to one well-known well-trusted long-time underling/ally for twenty minutes.

Every once in a while a well-known well-trusted long-time underling/ally will decide they're friends with Aku and Aku will go "well, that's fine" and accept that it's happening until the friend dies and/or screws up enough for Aku to kill/imprison/exile them. Their professional relationship/utility to Aku always outranks the friendship, but like, if it's an entertaining friendship he might be 5% more lenient with screwups. If he ever gets a hint that they're just sucking up in the hopes that being nice to him will get them some professional/political advantage, it's the Pit of Hate for their impertinence.

9. out of the characters we see in the show:

Scaramouche has decided he's Aku's friend. Aku's fine with this because Scaramouche understands that it's more important to be a good assassin than a good friend—and he's a very good assassin.

It's not a lot of mere assassins that get Aku's private number—and are permitted to call it enough times to memorize the melody of the buttons being pressed.

Sometimes Scaramouche texts Aku memes. on average about one out of twenty will get a "HAHA" in reply.

Demongo assumed—or, perhaps, hoped—he was Aku's friend in some small subservient way. Demongo was wrong. He didn't figure out the trick is that you've gotta be the one to decide it and then Aku will go along with it. It probably wouldn't have saved him. (It didn't save Scaramouche.)

Some of Aku's top scientists have been friendly with him—thinking of the little troll who gave X-49 emotions, doubt he could get away with little experiments like that if he wasn't firmly on Aku's good side—but generally they aren't friends with him.

I don't think we've ever seen anyone else in the show who qualified as a friend, near-friend, or potential-friend. Maybe the DJ might've been? That seems like the type of position that could've started with Aku having hired this guy for several gigs and the DJ seems like the kind of person to get casual with his boss. The three-eyed alien who spies for him, I feel like she keeps it professional with the boss. They're on friendly-but-not-friend terms. Like, they'd nod to each other on the street but they wouldn't say hi. That might be the whole list out of characters we've seen.

10. I headcanon he is capable of feeling friendship though, even if he isn't actually exercising that capacity in any way. Primarily because my ace/aro ass is sick and tired of "they can't feel desire like a NORMAL person, they're LOVELESS unlike a GOOD person" being used to indicate how evil an evil-in-their-soul villain is, and i'm gradually extending that to aplatonic characters too.

Therefore if you're calling a character inherently evil i'm gonna say well then he does have the capacity for friendship and attraction even if he isn't using it; because if the lack of friendship & love isn't inherently evil, then the presence of it isn't inherently good, and i'm gonna get up on my soapbox about this.

And aside from me just preferring it that way, I like experimenting with "so what CAN an inherently evil character do (i.e. what are the limits of what's ACTUALLY evil vs what's morally neutral but a lot of people like it and thus decide it's good)?"

11. God only knows WHAT Aku would consider attractive though. what's sexy to a tree? Flowers?? Is he into flowers??? Flowers with a wide stigma and a dozen stamens???? Who knows.

i think he runs into someone that meets his criteria like, once every five hundred years at MOST. Tells no one. Immediately cuts them out of his life. Moves on.

I feel like Aku being attracted to someone/something isn't dependent upon "here's a list of traits he automatically considers appealing/attractive" but some complex network of relationship building and prior interactions and psychological reactions. "so you're just saying he needs to get to know someone before he can be attracted to them?" No. It's Not That Simple. You Don't Understand. "Then explain." no.

12. I think he's perfectly content with, like, JUST ruling earth. No ambitions to go conquer the rest of the galaxy or anything. He's got his cozy little planet he can exploit, torment, and terrorize as much as he pleases, if he wants MORE evildoers around he can just fling open his doors and invite them over and they'll come pouring in...

And on top of that the dude's a complete homebody. He can leave earth in seconds any time he wants but he doesn't, except once, to hire a band of hunters and then immediately go home. Which is WILD since like, it would be so goddamn easy to avoid Jack forever by just ruling earth from the moon and banning spaceships. he could be teleporting to all kinds of helpless planets without the technology to fight back and then just pillaging and plundering them. But no, all he wants to do is keep on squeezing Earth.

There's no sign he has any political ties or alliances (or rivalries or brewing wars) with the dictators of other planets; there isn't even any evidence that he goes to normal non-dictator-ruled worlds like "I heard you have too many criminals and you want to get rid of them! I have a suggestion: are you familiar with the concept of Australia?" Instead he just sends out an invite and hopes criminals find it.

And when he's on Earth we never see him, like... GO places. The only times he ever seems to leave his castle are when it's necessary to deal with some business, usually dealing with Jack: to attack him, to recruit someone to attack him, to raise some zombies to attack him, to pretend to be a hot babe and/or a hermit and/or another hot babe to mislead him before attacking him... like he never goes down to the slave mines to laugh at his slaves, he never goes to gladiatorial rings to watch the fights, he never just wanders around his cities kicking puppies and stealing candy from babies and handing murderers gift cards to Weapons R Us, never goes on cruises...

He really is a tree: rooted in one spot, and it's a pain in the ass and a huge chore to uproot him and drag him somewhere else.

If you were to stick him in a modern human AU he'd be that guy with a work-from-home job who spends all of his spare time customizing his home's interior decor—buying new furniture online, painting the walls himself, gets all his groceries via delivery, hasn't seen the sun in three months and hasn't noticed. And he's perfectly content with it.

13. And that's another thing about him: he's content. I truly believe that, before Jack shows up, he's happy and living his best life and absolutely thriving. He's got bingo on his Maslow's hierarchy of needs. He's living out his wildest dreams. He's reached all his life's ambitions and they were just as good as he expected and now he's making fresh new ambitions. He's doing SO great. He's the happiest person on Earth, and not just because he's making everyone else miserable.

A lot of times in stories (and in life) you expect evildoers doing evil to be secretly miserable and depressed and broken and hiding from their psychological demons and that's the reason they're so cruel in the first place. But like, that applies to humans, who are generally psychologically wired to find fulfillment in doing & receiving the things that most of us agree are "good," and so if a human's doing wicked things most of the time it means it's because something's gone terribly wrong in their lives to make this course of action seem necessary or correct.

But Aku's born evil, wired evil, spiritually evil. What breaks a human's soul nourishes Aku's soul.

14. You know how sometimes after a villain with a tragic backstory does something evil and everyone's like WHY, they break down, and in tortured anguish—likely with bitter angry tears—they explain what horrible tragedy befell them to make them this wrong, this twisted, this broken, and how this experience they went through and the terrible things they're doing now are poisoning them from the inside and hollowing them out into a bitter crumbling husk of the person they should be?

That's the kind of reaction you'd get if Aku helped a little old lady carry her groceries home.

he donates money to a charity to end homelessness and is sick with guilt & disgust & self-loathing. He helps a child do their homework and feels like he's dead inside, he goes home and stares in the mirror and wonders if the real him is even alive anymore. What terrible tragedy would have to befall him to turn him into such a broken shadow of his former self.

a lot of times inherently evil characters are written as like "well they're not really INHERENTLY evil, they've just been convinced evil is good but they can be changed and that'd be good for them" or as like "they're evil so they treat goodness like it's got cooties and it's played for laughs." I think we can push the envelope, take it more seriously, try to REALLY imagine the world from the character's perspective. Wouldn't an evil character doing evil feel the same way as a good character doing good? Wouldn't an evil character doing good feel the same way as a good character doing evil—and wouldn't it take the same sort of extreme circumstances to push them to act against their morals like that?

15. Aku's got pretty good manners? We see this several times: the two that most prominently come to mind to me are the moment he's born, when his very first words are "You! Thank you!"; and the time he ordered an (EXTRA THICC) mercenary and was a very polite and patient customer on the phone, like if you're working in a call center a customer like Aku is a dream. Apparently good etiquette is morally neutral. Add to this some other unexpected traits he has that are usually considered "good": tidy, hates messes (in his home, anyway). Sees children mockng him and decides to read them bedtime stories rather than murder them? Leaves an away message to let visitors know he's unavailable when he's occupied being a depressed lump.

In a lot of ways, Aku would make, like... an ideal neighbor, housemate, roommate, customer, etc. Except for all the evil, and the way he eye lasers anyone the moment they annoy him. But if you put aside the evil he's a well put-together guy with generally quite pleasant habits. He'd probably put the toilet seat back down after using it. But he probably lifted the toilet seat in the first place because he was flushing your still-living pet hamster down the toilet.

And that's enough of that I think.

#anonymous #ask #samurai jack #aku #headcanons #meta #chemical aku #(<- that's for headcanon number 4. that's what we're calling that AU now)

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 1 year ago

Text

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐎 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞.

Characters: Gojo, Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Nanami

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1505

Warnings: Reader is extremely sub coded with Sukuna, but otherwise no warnings really.

NOTE: Although there isn't any smut in this my blog is still very much an adult blog. Anyone under 18 please refrain from interacting with my posts.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Gojo sleeps like a comfortable cat. He sprawls out over the bed taking up as much space as he can, while also being as close to you as possible. Of course, he can tell when you make even the slightest movement.

He doesn't like waking up though. He'll crack open an eye to look at you and survey what the problem is.

Sometimes it's just you going to pee, in which case he cuddles you when you're back. Sometimes you get up and have a bit of water from your bedside table for this he doesn't bother moving at all.

This time however he realises something is wrong. You're sitting up in bed breathing heavily. He immediately gets up. “What's wrong pookie bear?” he asks. When you don't roll your eyes at the cringey nickname he uses he understands it's probably bad.

He holds you in his arms and you whisper, as if afraid that any loud noise will shatter the safe space around you. “I dreamed of you… You were dancing around the edge of a volcano and you fell in.” You shudder. Gojo cracks a smile.

“Is that all then? I’d be fine!” He reassures you, patting your back. “It's just a little volcano!”

Tears start falling from your face, “TORU! We didn't even have a body to bury!!”

Gojo takes your face in his hands and makes you look into his brilliant blue eyes. “Baby, I will NEVER fall into a volcano…” You nuzzle into his shoulder and his hand rubs your back, a gesture that calms you down. “And even if I did – I wouldn't die. I'm the strongest, remember?” He grins all cocky.

You roll your eyes but concede. He's right… He is the strongest. It would take more than falling into a volcano to kill him.

𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Fushiguro Toji isn't always the kindest, but he really can't bear seeing you suffer. Usually after putting you to sleep, he likes to stay up and have another drink or make himself a snack while he watches some races on the TV or an action movie of some kind.

Later at night, he might crawl into bed with you, picking you up and laying you on top of him like a human blanket. And some nights he falls asleep on the couch, TV still on, the plate and glass on the floor.

One night he puts you to bed and is watching an action movie. Beer in one hand tilting dangerously as he gets drowsy.

“What a boring fucking film.” He scolds the screen, deciding to turn it off and head to the welcoming softness of your bed.

He enters the room to find you sitting up, knees to your chest softly sobbing. He tiptoes to you quietly, careful to not startle you.

“Ummm… are you okay?”

You move your head some way but it's indecipherable to Toji. He pats your back awkwardly. He asks again, hesitantly, “Did I do something honey?” trying to wrack his brain for anything he might have done to upset you. He had broken a mug a few days ago but didn't think it would be a big deal. He'd already shown you and told you he would get you a new one and you had assured him it wasn't a problem. So what was it?

Suddenly he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “Toji…”

He holds you closer. “What's up, buttercup?”

“Would you leave me without telling me?”

He furrows his brows. “What are you talking about doll?”

“I had a nightmare that you left. Just packed up and went away and I had no idea where you were, or what happened!” Your tears start falling with renewed vigour.

Toji lifts you like a cat and sits down on the bed, placing you in his lap. Your tear-streaked face looking at him expects an answer but he isn't sure he can give you one. He knew his work could be uncertain; which was also why he had hesitated getting into a relationship with you in the first place. It was why he’d always been more of a ‘wham bam thank you, ma’am’ kinda guy so now, faced with a question like this he can’t think of anything to do but just hold you squishing your head under his chin. “I’m here aren’t I?”

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

Sukuna Ryomen is a nightmare.

However, on rare occasions, he can be… comforting – in his signature Sukuna way of course.

He doesn't bother with human functions like sleeping, but you need to so he likes to make you sleep on him. If he’s sitting up and reading then he likes having your head on his lap. If he’s eating, you’re resting on his shoulder. If he’s not feeling too touchy but still wants you to be near him somehow, he will make you sleep by his feet. You're his little human after all.

But Sukuna likes to take special care of his toys; so when one day you jolt awake at his feet, he lifts you onto his lap. Sitting you down so he can see your face clearly, he asks you what happened, not forgetting to call you a brat of course.

“It was a nightmare,” you say quietly not wanting to reveal much.

Of course, this wouldn’t be a satisfactory answer to the King of Curses. “Explain yourself woman!” he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb.

“You! You were torturing me.” you cry out feeling his nails against your skin.

He takes the opportunity to kiss your lips with your face still dwarfed in his massive hand. “There there, my little princess.” And licks a tear rolling down your cheek. “You know I’m not going to mistreat my playthings.”

He continues saying, “Besides, if I wanted you dead, you would be. I wouldn’t waste my time torturing you.” And that would be the end of that conversation, but you would notice that in his own way, he would be a tiny bit gentler with you from then on…

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Geto Suguru is a man not unfamiliar with nightmares. So when you have one he knows what to do. What he wishes he had when he experiences the same…

He'll clasp you in a tight embrace, squeezing you close to his chest.

He knows how terrifying it can be and how realistic nightmares feel even if in retrospect they are absolutely ridiculous.

Geto wakes up hearing a thud and you crying out, “No!”

“What's wrong babe?” he asks, still half asleep voice drawling. He pushes himself up on his arms to take a look at you.

You're clutching your head with a pained expression, tears filling your eyes. “I had a bad dream.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards him, letting you push your nose into his chest. “Did you hit your head on the bedside table too?” He asks slightly amused but still gentle.

“I was trying to save you, you ungrateful man!” you admonish.

“Save me?” Geto chuckles, “What from?” You murmur something that he can't make out.

“Mmm, what was that?” He asks again teasingly.

“Gojiraaa!” you say, clearer this time the embarrassment evident in your burning cheeks.

Geto laughs. “Baby… You know I can fight him, right? Easily.” He pauses and then, “Or I could just throw you at him and run. You don't have to worry he won’t get me.”

You stare at him annoyed, “You know what? He can eat you, I don't care.”

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Nanami Kento is a cuddler. So he knows immediately when you've had a bad dream. He's up before you, hearing you whimper and feeling your body tremble against him. He'll wake you up, hold you close. Bring you some water to drink and stroke your hair.

He likes to speak to you gently to wake you up, slowly drawing you out of whatever nightmare was eating at you. His deep voice is soothing to hear even in your subconscious.

You blink your eyes open. There's this dull feeling of terror that's fading away as your surroundings come into focus.

“My love? I'm here. Wake up for me.” That's your partner's voice. Your Nanaminmin. You feel the warmth of his embrace and snuggle into his broad chest. It's safe.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Shibuya again…”

Nanami rubs circles into your back wishing desperately that the trauma of the past would stay there. But even if that wasn't to be, at least he could hold you. Love you. He lowers his head to place a chaste kiss on the top of your hair. “It's over my love. I'm here. I'm alive. They couldn't take me from you…”

He keeps murmuring to you as you hold onto him clutching at his arms. The feeling of terror; not so alien but thankfully fading. He was home. With you. You still had him. Right beside you. He was there. He slowly rocked you back to sleep closer than ever and this time when you slept there were no more nightmares…

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'm open to feedback and do let me know if you find any grammatical errors that i might have over looked.

Also i reject canon. Nanami is alive. Shibuya happened but he was saved. i know i was there. i dragged his half dead body to safety ok bye.

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 1 year ago

Note

hey! I'm pretty new to your stories: currently reading curse words and loving it! (I started the first book with the mindset that I wouldn't be caught enough to miss some real life stuff because of reading... guess what, I missed some real life stuff reading.)

but now I have a question: the books have a pretty intricate plot with a lot of good payoffs for small things. which is very cool from a reader's point of view, but from the writer's one— can you maybe share some stuff about your process? especially in the early stages, how do you go from the initial spark of an idea and what this is about to a fully formed plot? would be cool if you're willing to share

anyway have a great day I'm off to start the third book hehe!

One thing to know about me is that I have just the worst possible imagination. Absolute pisspoor garbage imagination, nothing going on up there. When I want to plot, my process is simple:

Find a problem, then solve it.

Curse Words was born of several disparate story ideas coming together, but mostly I wanted to play with the magic system -- I wanted to write a story where spells were metaphysical parasites that possessed mages, and each mage could only cast their unique spell. The whole thing came about when reading The Princess Bride, specifically the chapter where Buttercup dreams of being a perfect baby and the doctor looking her over and regretfully informing her parents that she was born with mo heart -- I was possessed with this powerful impression of a slightly wacky doctor peering over the top of his rose tinted glasses to inform a pair of parents that their baby had a curse trapped in her heart. From there, it's find the problem, solve the problem.

I wanted to separate Kayden from his family and put him in an unfamiliar environment for the story so that he and the audience would be on a pretty similar level re: world information; isolated magic and a magic school is the easy way to do that. Okay, so why is this school isolated? Why is the curse thing not common knowledge? Why do the public fear curses and have such limited access to magic that it's not a part of Kayden's day-to-day, if it's so useful? Solve the problem; look at the economy. The unique nature of spells makes them difficult to scale up, and the unpredictable nature makes them inferior to technological solutions to problems in most large-scale issues. What does this say about how the Industrial Revolution would've affected the usefulness, and therefore the public perception, of magic? The logical conclusion is the Purity Revolution.

This school is gathering and teaching all these students; why? I wanted a clear division between witches like Kayden and a privileged elite that formed most of the school body; why are they different, how are the elite kids here, why are witches accepted and integrated into the student body? Solve the problem; look at the economy, the politics. Where are these rich kids getting their magic? Why pull in witches? One question answers the other. Why didn't Kayden and Kylie know that curses were spells in advance? Seems something that should be common knowledge. Look at the politics; tie that in. Logical conclusion: magic trap. We have this magic lake with a monster in it that we introduced super early for dramatic purposes and haven't explained yet. What can we do with that? Let's invent empowered water. Let's look at what that means for the creation of potions worldwide. Let's tie in the management of unmanageable spells. Let's elaborate on the structure our magic trap.

Now we have a channel of power. Curses parasitise witches; some are blessings, some are more trouble than they're worth. The school collects curses, domesticates them, makes them more useful, locks away or renders harmless that which it cannot make use of. More curses are collected over time, the school grows and grows and Refujeyo becomes stronger and stronger as they control more of the world's magic supply, but every system has a capacity. What's the effect of this infinite growth? Here we have a clear and unavoidable economic metaphor, so obvious that not centreing the story on this concept would basically be dishonest. Who's managing this collection, what does it say about the power of the school within mage society? How would such a school relate to the rest of Refujeyo; how would Refujeyo, collecting power like this, relate to and be viewed by other magical traditions, and by nonmagical society? Run through the reasoning, solve the problem.

Why would the school only approach Kayden as a teenager, after his curse caused problems? Surely the school would want to collect as many curses as if could as early as possible. There has to be a reason why they waited. This is a good one because it flows directly from the complex political relationships between Refujeyo and commonfolk politics that have to exist, AND ties neatly into critical character motivations that have to exist for book 1's main twist to function (notably, Malas Aksoy's actions). Sort this out for book 1 and accidentally create a critical political point for the rest of the entire series.

I started writing book 1 with the idea of the court case and subsequent twist about Kayden's curse being the big mystery, but Kayden still needs something to actually do at school. We have this mage who we threw in to rescue Kayden and Kylie from the lake, and had Max hero worship her for flavour; she seems to be becoming central to a lot of interactions for some reason. A lot of dramatic stuff is therefore automatically happening in her presence, but why is this incredibly accomplished and intelligent mage fucking up so much? We've established her as careful and thorough. We need a reason for all these accidents beyond random chance. Someone's sabotaging her -- why? Let's look at our established characters and figure out who has means and motive, and who the most fun red herrings would be.

How could a place like Refujeyo, such a complex and time-consuming project that would have to involve the cooperation of so very many mages, even get built? How would it survive long enough to be powerful? When and where did this happen? We've already established the Purity Revolution; maybe there was something more coordinated than just random undirected economic forces. We've established some incredibly powerful mage families and the old system of apprenticeship and inheritance; we know that the most powerful family in Refujeyo used to have a prophecy and owned a very powerful place that helps prophecies specifically. They could coordinate something, given enough motivation and the help of enough other powerful mages. What kind of motivation? Let's go back to the Purity Revolution. If tech develops alongside magic without central oversight of some kind, what could magic enhance? What problems could be foreseen that would make this kind of investment worth it? How does Refujeyo save the world?

Tie this into our power channel. Refujeyo's attempt to save the world endangers the world due to infinite growth and power being passively collected by those who benefit from the dangerous status quo. It fits our economy metaphor, because they're essentially the same thing, just putting in magic instead of money as a means of power.

Find a problem, then solve it.

The important thing with this method is to keep your solutions cohesive. If you come up with a new different reason for every thing, your plot will look scattered and disorganised. We don't want to look like we're just pulling the story out of our arse. I mean, we are pulling the story out of our arse, that's what writing fiction is, but it's a big part of our job to help our audience suspend their disbelief on that. Whenever possible, you should look for answers that solve multiple things and weave disparate parts of the story together; this is especially true when they relate to the core plot or central theme of your story.

Also, leave gaps for reader inference. You don't have to answer every single question, you just need to make sure that some plausible answer exists for every single question. Sometimes this involves saying less, not more, and letting the audience figure it out.

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vintagesuga · 1 year ago

Text

☆Nicknames Skz call you

━━━━━━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━━━━━

tags: Ot8 x gn!reader. Fluffy, Pet names, established relationships, cute short little thing

summary: These are nicknames/pet names I think the members would call you. Enjoy!

a.n: This is the first work that I am posting on Tumblr so idk what I'm truly doing here. This is also cross-posted on Ao3 under the same username.

Chan:

I feel like he isn’t too big on using pet names, so he just calls you by your name

However, if he is feeling particularly lovesick, he calls you Sweetheart or Beautiful.

If he wants to tease, he calls you cheesy gross names like Pookie Bear or Apple of my eye

When you're going all ‘Mom mode’ (as the members like to call it) he calls you Boss Lady

You’re saved as ‘Love Bug’ in his phone

Minho:

Calls you Honey, Dear, or My love (and this is why the members think you’re married)

If he wants to tease you, he calls you Sweet Stuff or Honey Bunches

Said something very serious to you and ended it with ‘Suger pie honey bun’ and started cackling like a witch

Sometimes he is an absolute menace if you call him by a cute nickname, will not answer you

People get confused when they see ‘Mother to my children’ in his contacts

Changbin:

Very buff man of him to call you like Doll or Toots.

When he is serious, he loves to call you Sunshine, Buttercup, or Pumpkin, tho

Called you Dumpling once, and you absolutely melted, Hearts for eyes frfr.

Has and will call you Wifey when you go out, finds it hilarious

He has you saved as ‘Queen💅’

Hyunjin:

He calls you short stuff

Unlike Chan, he is being 100% serious when he calls you the Apple of my eye

For real, tho he probably calls you something like Love or Darling, something really romantic.

Jokingly suggested he call you My Treasure or Aphrodite, not expecting you to actually like those names

Saved as ‘My muse’ with a gross amount of emojis

Jisung:

He calls everyone Baby, and that includes you, too.

Probably shortens it to Babe and just interchanges them.

Schnookums or Pookie if he wants to be a little shit.

If he wants something from you, he tries calling you the Love of his life. You see right through him, tho so his trick never works.

Jokingly saved you as ‘Nutter Butter’ in his contacts and found it hilarious, so he just hasn’t changed it.

Felix:

Mans calls you a whole bakery. Cupcake, Pudding, Cutie Patootie, Sugar Pie. The whole 9 yards.

If it is sweet, in his eyes, you are that sweet

I feel like he just switches his pet names for you like every other day, so it is never the same one twice.

He once called you Bubs for about 3 weeks, tho; you absolutely loved it. Favorite nickname.

Has you saved as ‘Muffin🥰’

Seungmin:

Calls you like Cold French Fries or Roach, you know mean things. Catch him dead before he calls you cute nicknames.

Definitely, one to call you Trouble. Especially when you call him by cute nicknames

You know he is being difficult, but names like Chicken Nugget??? Those aren't endearing

When it's just the two of you, he calls you stuff like Hon or Darling

You’re saved as ‘My only one😒’ in his phone.

Jeongin:

I feel like he is also not one for pet names

Calls you Baby, but it's like rarely

If he really wants you to understand how much he loves you tho he calls you Angel or Precious

Called you something like Bestie once, and you didn’t speak to him for hours

Has you saved as ‘Number one cuddler🫶’

©️vintagesuga Do not repost.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #pet names #established relationship #bangchan x reader #lee know x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz scenarios

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zxmbiie-luv · 3 months ago

Note

what do you think about a cnc thing with hermes + (originally) low sex drive reader? with hermes drugging reader beforehand to make them a lot more insatiable, and then pretending to be busy/not have time for them/deny them before ‘giving in’ and fucking them silly? i think it would be really hot if that was a thing,, bc i just know he’d be as desperate as reader to fuck but he holds back a bit to deny them. :3 love your writing and no pressure as always to write my requests !!

- 🛩️

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Drink up, Buttercup! ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hermes (Hades I-II) x reader

Containing: drugging, sub reader, CNC, the nickname!!!1!1, not proofread (fuck it we ball), bro did not pull out ngl

Summary — a simple drink. That's what it was supposed to be! And it would be, hadn't the cheeky bastard used his tricks.

a/n — AAAAAAAAAA this shits delicious excuse me,,,, Also no worries!! I luv writing stuff and definitely don't mind And I've got your last stuff in my drafts dw pooks

The second he catched a glimpse of Aphrodite's bottled magic, a devious idea brewed in his mind. As his trickster mind did, never allowing him rest, it seems.

Well, ok, bottled magic was too underestimating. Aphrodite's power could not be bottled so simply, it wasn't a measley thing to measure. But appearantly, she'd use such to answer and comply at any prayer and offering in turn of winning one's favour.

She'd have a variety, and as Hermes had passed by her chambers, he'd catch a glimpse of a hot pink mixed with red shimmer just swishing on about in that little long glass confinement that was the bottle. So that became the plan. Swiftly walk by Aphrodite's chambers when she wasn't around, grab the bottle, and make a run for it.

And that, he did. Honestly, he didn't know why, it's like he acted on impulse— shaking the bottle to see it glow on the movement and see the glitter roam on. He had to stop, however, because the thing looked like it was about to explode at any moment. And then it clicked him.

Why don't you have a taste?

He kinda wanted to see you worked up over him, without him doing anything. Of course, he could work his hand just right for you to start tugging at his chiton to hurry, please, take it off— But he wanted you to put your hands on him alone, for a change. So, he got a bottle of Ambrosia and the essence, and mixed it in.

A drop should've been enough. He wanted for it to last at least the whole day— to get a vision of what it was like for you to want him like he was the center of your mind, clouding your senses.

Well, good luck, he accidentally dropped more than half the bottle. Hermes watched on with shock as the essence merged one with the Ambrosia, creating a beautiful eye-piercing pink drink, with a golden hue and bubbles starting to form. He hoped that was just it turning to a sparkling drink and not, what mortals called, radioactive.

He swore he didn't mean to do that! He just wanted to put a drop! Okay, so, this was about to last you the whole week (in which, he probably didn't mind), and Aphrodite was going to kill him for wasting her power. Great.

But whatever, what could he do? Hermes closed the bottle with the new brew he had apparently done, and the other one with the one that belonged to the great goddess, and packed both in his messenger bag put. What couldn't be seen, couldn't be caught, right? That was his whole life, at this point.

You looked on at the drink in wonder as you held it in hand, Hermes subtly watching your every move in inner anxious. What if this actually harmed you? What if you got mad after finding out? What if-?

"Thank you, Hermes. You didn't have to. I'm sure it'll taste just as delightful as you." You thanked with a smile, walking up to him to rest your hands on his shoulders and kiss his cheek tenderly as he smiled back at you and placed his hands on your waist.

"No need buttering me up, bunny. I'd give you wayyy more if you'd let me, but it's really no trouble at all." He chuckled, giving you a kiss on your lips— something so simple that never failed to take his breath away— and sadly departed from your touch to leave and resume his work.

As he only was a blur to be seen, you opened the bottle carefully to finally get a taste. It was a pretty bottle, you might clean it out once you're done. With a curious sniff to catch its scent, it immediately filled your chest with warmth and made you loosen up. Hermes really knew how to pick stuff out, then. Pouring it down your throat, the feeling intensified, now making you feel hotter and more active. Was this alcohol that you accidentally downed? Couldn't be, it didn't smell like it. You'd have to ask Hermes when he came back.

You were in for a ride, and you didn't even know it.

You were— just, how to explain this feeling? You were swallowing your saliva like the whole sea was in your mouth, it felt unbelievably hot like you wanted to rip your clothes off, and every single thing about him triggered that.

It's like he looked extra divine doing nothing, glancing back at you as a smile formed on his lips and he teased, "Staring problem, much?"

Every touch, even the most simple one, was nearly pushing you over the edge. Every laugh, or flick of his wings, or subtle flex of muscle doing the things he usually does, drove you crazy.

And the problem? He wasn't giving you what you need. Which was a total change to him.

It's been a few days, he'd have you let anybody, wherever you were, know he was making you feel the best. Now? Work, work, work.

"Hermesss... Please.." You whined out to him, hands tracing everywhere, a hopeless attempt to get him as riled up as you were, get it through his thick skull— "Bunny, not so impatient. You know I'm a busy man, I'll get to you soon."

He might've seemed calm and composed, but inside, he was a mess. Especially to your touch, fuck. He knew he was doing this to get you all hot and bothered, but seriously, he was about to burst. And it was fairly evident thanks to the raging tent that man was sporting, and looking down on it, it made your mouth both water and your eyebrows furrow in annoyance.

"Oh, so, is my state amusing to you?" You scowled, gripping him tighter, and Hermes tries his hardest not to make a face, not to let out a sound.

"Very. However, I must decline once more. I do hope you understand." He flashed you a smirk, pecking your lips with a kiss before turning his attention back to his assigned work Zeus had given him, one wing on his head stretching as you had started to rhythmically tap your finger on the surface of his desk in frustration.

Suddenly, you squirmed in front of him, and before he could say anything, you crashed your lips after his in reckless abandon. As your hand went behind his head and interlocked with his hair, his composure was beginning to slip away, soon matching the hunger in your pace as you licked up the taste on his tongue and your eyes turning half-lidded.

Hermes put his work away, somewhere, he didn't care, as you found yourself sat on his desk and soon laying beneath him, his ever-skillful hands lower and lower... At this point, blood was rushing everywhere, it was a feeling you had never experienced before, like you were on a rollercoaster and having three orgasms denied at the same time.

He broke the kiss, only to go lower and leave open mouthed kisses on your neck as he spoke in between them. "Bunny, did you need me that bad? So sorry, baby, gonna take care of you real good."

You could only nod in return, couldn't be able to say anything else as you heard clothes fumbling and his hands going underneath yours. He didn't even try to sugarcoat it as he slipped two fingers in you so effortlessly, earning a gasp out of you as his fingers curled and pushed in and out of you.

"H-Hermes..!", you hushed out as his tempo got faster, feeling him smile at your tone and the marks he was creating on your skin and removing his digits out of you. Before you could protest, they swiftly got replaced with his dick, catching you off guard and making you let out out a moan as you threw your head back.

He groaned, biting his lip before chuckling at your expression, kissing the base of your throat. He started moving, adoring you wholeheartedly... Your face, your sounds, your hole— It almost felt like you were too good for him. His grip on your hips was almost bruising, pulling you tighter towards him like he couldn't get enough. And he couldn't, honestly.

To anchor yourself, even a little bit, one hand moved to his shoulder while the other on the edge of the desk. A gasp escaped you as he picked up pace, and you could see Hermes also as affected as you were, hiding his face in the crook of your neck to at least quiet down the moans he so embarrassingly let out.

"Hermes, I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum.." You whined out, hands moving from their previous positions to his back, that was gripping so hard, your nails were leaving red angry trails. "It's alright, bunny, gonna cum too.. Fuck, please, cum with me.." He nodded, wings tucked tightly against his head as you came, him following not far after.

Thrusting tightly against you out of instinct, he emptied himself inside you before the both finally got the chance to catch your breath, Hermes' wings relaxing as he slowly lifted himself off of you. You released your grip on him, your breath hitching at the feeling of him pulling out, leaning down to kiss your abdomen and looking up at you with hazed eyes and mumbling, "I love you.".

You saw his cheeks flush at listening to you say it back, which earned a laughter out of you and ruffling his hair. It's amazing how he could fuck you stupid, yet get so flustered at the smallest things. Your laughter was cut short as his mouth enveloped between your legs.

So, Hermes' experiment got its answer solved. And now, whenever he'd catch you taking sips from that same drink, he'd grin and muse with a raised eyebrow,

".. You do know what's in that, right?"

He never stopped giving it for you to drink, though.

this is rightfully my work, @zxmbiie-luv

Do not steal, translate, repost ect

Reblogs and likes welcome!!

#— 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖟𝖔𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊!! 🧟‍♂️🦄#— 🛩️ 𝓐𝓷𝓸𝓷 #AAAAAAA WHAT HAVE I JUST WRITTEEEENNNN #You guys must understand this is my second time writing smut besides the headcanons #yolo ig #peace and love y'all #hermes x reader #hermes hades #hades game #hades game x reader #hades game writing #hades game smut #hermes hades x reader #hermes hades game smut

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unintentionalseductress · 5 months ago

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Homecoming Wings Thoughts

Disclaimer: These are purely my interpretations, thoughts, and predictions. You are in no way obligated to agree with me, or even have the same opinion. Do not send me hate messages or correct me unless I made a CANON error. Buckle up buttercups because I am about to take ya'll on a joy ride through my nebulous brain.

Aight aight, that was truly a wild ride, but based off the trailer, we all expected just as much. Now despite EVERYTHING, I'm still going to say, Caleb's obsessive behavior towards the end might have a deeper meaning. I believe Caleb pulled a Snape.

Yes, that's right, a Snape. Now at the very end of Homecoming Wings, Caleb goes on another mission into the deepspace tunnel and essentially tells MC there's a good chance she might not see him again (lol, we know that's not true but anyway). Then in the last part, we see him landing at some sort of base for Ever, where it's revealed that they made some sort of exchange for Caleb, essentially saving his life after the blast and giving him that bionic arm.

Caleb gives the professor information about MC's whereabouts and though this makes him sus af, I believe this is his Snape-ness showing up. In Deathly Hallows, Snape purposely reveals to Voldemort the correct date that Harry was moved from the Dursley's because according to Dumbledore, Voldemort believed Snape to have played his role too well and any misinformation from him would have raised suspicions. Similarly, Caleb purposely leaked as much accurate information to Ever as he could to throw them off the trail. Also, Ever could literally end him if they suspected he was trying to be on MC's side.

That crazy, insane, possessive, weirdly hot scene that everyone is calling Caleb's 'true yandere moment' may have been engineered. While I don't doubt that he might be unhealthily in love with MC, I don't believe he is a true 'yandere' in the sense that he would hurt MC physically or mentally. He may have been showing off his power and saying those crazy things to ensure she doesn't come looking for him again. He might be aware that Ever has turned him into a weapon perfect for killing her, and the only solution he can think of is to get her to stay away from him. He knows he can't do it by himself because any attempt from her to reconnect and he'll buckle (have you seen the yearning in this man's eyes oof).

So it's easier for her to be mistrustful and scared of him rather than him trying to constantly keep her at arm's length. He seemed truly relieved when they were reunited in that first scene and he doesn't seem to show any creepy possessive behavior in his other memories before joining the Farspace Fleet. He knows she's a hunter and that despite her getting injured so frequently, she's a tough woman and can survive anything. Before the kaboom, his complaint was that she wasn't sharing things with him like before, not that she wasn't letting him protect her.

The kids that Ever seemed to be experimenting on. It looks like Grandma Josephine had a change of heart and defected with her team and MC at some point and Ever had been trying to pinpoint them ever since. It reminds me of the experiments Aizen did on hollows to make Arrancars (that's right, ya girl is a Bleach stan). Ever seems to be trying to mutate humans into wanderers but has been unsuccessful because the protocores they're using don't stabilize, and that's why they branched out to Onychinus hoping modified protocores could be the answer, but those also fail. They are stuck, and hence, need MC's heart to figure out why her aether core is stable and theirs isn't.

I legit thought there was going to be a moment where Zayne and Caleb crossed paths. Like what are the chances that Zayne was there for a conference and was also monitoring Mia's case? I was thinking MC was going to call him for help and then he gets the shock of his life when she tells him Caleb is alive.

The chips that were mentioned...maybe Caleb is chipped but not in the way we think. Perhaps his arm hurts him if he doesn't do Ever's will? Kinda like Pettigrew in Harry Potter when Voldemort gives him that silver hand and when he refuses to kill Harry in the end, it chokes him to death and he had no control over it. Hence why Caleb was so reluctant to tell MC about it (Painful Signal).

The events of Exclusive Aftertaste confused me. I don't think this was after the events of Homecoming Wings but before. I think this was after Caleb graduated college and was living in Skyhaven, and MC had also moved out of their grandma's house into her apartment. Perhaps she had been busy with her missions and had quit contacting Caleb as much as she used to? And his insecurity made him visit her? But the ending at the train station...why did he turn her around and tell her to leave and not look back? Was it because he was worried she would be more upset watching him leave? Ugh the angst and longing between these two is killing me.

Overall, I still like Caleb, I think he's a complex character and this was just his intro. We felt suspicious about Sylus as well, but it wasn't until we started getting bond memories and then his limited myth that we really put the pieces together. There is definitely more to Caleb, but I like the idea that Caleb doesn't have a past connection to her and this is his first life with her. It makes their relationship seem so much more purer in a way. I wanted MC to punch him in the face when he said he was leaving though. He just left her, despite knowing how much she didn't want to be left alone. He was the last bit of family she had, and he took that tiny bit of comfort away from her. Super assy move Caleb. (but I still love him).

End rant. Feel free to drop your thoughts, opinions, and predictions either in the comments or my inbox. Thanks for listening to me ramble.

#ncs #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #caleb #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb lnds #homecoming wings

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ramp-it-up · 1 year ago

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II Most Wanted Part 8: Time For Something New

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You give Sy your answer and take steps into the future.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. The porn part of this chapter got away from me y'all. I was as surprised as Sy. Angst, fluff, passion. Sex in committed relationship. Mirror sex, fingering, clit slap, Sir kink, Mrs. Kink, dirty talk, cream kink, size kink, raw p in v, oral sex (f receiving), praise/degredation kink, command kink, Sy in the workplace, hard hat kink, toxic construction worksite, jealous Sy… omg.

Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the eighth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

-------

“I am asking you to marry me, Buttercup.”

Sy summoned all of his military discipline for this moment. He had to stick this landing because he knew you were shaky. All of his heart and soul was tied up into this one moment.

You stared at Sy, then at the ring, then at Sy again.

You saw that he was so sure of you and this love, and it took all that was inside you not to sob. You cleared your throat as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Deep down, I knew that everything was leading to this if I got back in with you this weekend, and that’s why I spent most of our time together trying to run from it. You terrify me, Sy.”

Big, fat tears rolled down your face as Sy’s eyes telegraphed an apology.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, but love me and try to let me know how much. But it is the scariest thing in the world when I’ve had your love ripped away and never thought I would experience it again.

You took a shaky breath as Sy listened to you.

“I think I always knew that you still loved me though, no matter how much time had passed or how far away we were from each other.”

Sy nodded and smiled ruefully at you.

“After I left Scott, I decided that the safest bet would be to be by myself, to never be dependent on anyone else for my happiness. And I felt safe being alone. No one could disappoint me, or hurt me but me. When I decided to come back here for the reunion, I prepared my armor against you.”

Sy brought the ring down to his lap and looked down on it, his eyes suddenly wet. He tried to just let you get it out, but his heart was in a free fall. You reached out and grasped his chin, bringing his watery eyes up to yours.

“But you are my one weakness. And I can’t deny that, no matter how much I tried. I can’t let myself get in the way of this love.”

You took a deep breath as you tried not to sob.

“I have always, always loved you, Jacob Allen Syverson, and I always will.”

You nodded as the tears spilled from both of your eyes. You leaned forward to meet him halfway, both of you pressing your lips together in a wet, salty kiss. Then you pulled back and got on your knees with him.

“It’s time for something new. Time out for playing it safe. I’m not going to give up this second chance at love. So, yeah, I will marry you Sy. If you will marry me.”

You laughed as Sy tackled you and lifted you up on the couch, bear hugging you so tight that you couldn’t breathe.

“Shit, Buttercup, you had me thinking you were going to drop me like a hot potato, but you’re stuck with me now. Forever.”

You kissed his mouth until his smile melted into yours, and you let his fingers put the ring on your hand. You admired it for a second then looked up at Sy, giving him a sweet kiss that affected your entire body as he enveloped you in his arms again.

Sy was like a man possessed. All he wanted to do was to inhale you, to taste you, to feel you around him. He wanted to lose himself in you. His mouth was on your mouth, your neck, your forehead, every piece of exposed skin he could reach, and his hands were everywhere, pulling on his t-shirt to expose as much of you as he could.

Then, a thought entered his head and he slowed down, palms rubbing the skin of your hips slower now, more deliberate.

“Let me show you exactly how much I love you… how much you mean to me…”

Sy’s mouth rumbled against your throat.

“Sy, you’ve already–”

He pulled back so that you could see his eyes. They were glowing with love and with need.

“Buttercup, you don’t understand. You’re going to be mine. I have to try and show you how I feel about that.”

And then he swept you up in his arms, bridal style, as you clung to him and got lost in his eyes, letting yourself be carried away on the short journey down the hall to the bedroom.

You were divested of the shirt and panties, laying back as Sy took stock of your body, his eyes and his mouth christening every inch of your body, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet.

“Love you, love you so much Buttercup. Soon to be Mrs. Syverson…”

It was a constant litany as he ignited the entirety of your skin.

“Need you, Sy…”

He was still clothed and that didn’t seem fair. You reached for his pants, and he moved away from you and stood at the foot of the bed. You sat up on the edge, watching the show he was putting on for you.

“Love how you look at me Buttercup. Make me feel like I’m the man.”

Sy’s heart was pounding as he reached behind him and pulled his t-shirt off, the way you bit your lip and dragged your eyes up the length of him making him even harder than he was before.

“You are the man, Sy. You are so fine. Make me wanna touch myself to the sight of you.”

Your hand was on your knee and you started trailing it up your thigh as Sy pulled his sweatpants down, causing his unclothed cock to slap him in the abs as he stood back up. He licked his lips.

“As much as I want to watch you do that, baby, some other time. Right now, like I said. I got something to show you.”

You raised your eyebrow.

“Oh? You gonna give me a show?”

Sy’s smile and blush sent you.

“Maybe later, Buttercup. Right now…”

He quickly moved to sit behind you on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Sy held you between his legs in front of the giant mirror on the wall across from the foot of the massive king sized bed. The hard rock of his cock poked you in your back, but you settled against him as he spoke into your ear.

“I have so much to let you know...”

He nuzzled into your neck as his long, thick fingers slowly skipped along your collarbone, and your chest. He traced the hills of your breasts to the stiff peaks of your nipples, and into the valley between them down your stomach.

“When I built this house, it was always with you in mind. Had this mirror especially made. You need to see how beautiful you are. Always. Need to feel what I feel when I look at you, Buttercup. Watch.”

You were quaking at his words and his touch, almost overcome and your pussy weeping rivulets onto the duvet.

One of Sy’s hands went to your trembling lips, tracing them and then descended toward your throat, gently grasped your jaw and turning and tilting your head up so that you were staring straight into the mirror. His other hand dipped into the patch of dark hair between your legs and his fingertips dipped to the crease of skin where your thigh tucked into your torso next to your wet folds.

“This bit of skin here, just here. Feels like silk. Love it. Love to run my fingers, my lips there...”

Your eyes met his as you gasped and remembered that each time Sy went down on you he would linger there, but you didn’t single it out as you were too caught up in your own pleasure. Your eyes flicked downward as Sy played with his favorite part of you and extended his fingers, brushing against the stiff clit that was peeking out and yearning for his touch. He pulled your thighs apart, eyes sparkling as you caught his glance and his lips curled into a sexy smirk.

“Look at yourself, Buttercup. So wet for me. Always. I am such a lucky, lucky man.”

You watched as Sy’s fingers circled your nub and then traveled down to dip into your wet heat. His other hand traveled a path to your stiff nipple and expertly pinched it just as you arched into his hand.

“See how beautiful?”

He reached down for your knee and brought it up so that your foot was on the bed now, having you brazenly displaying your most intimate parts and your wanton movement at his ministrations to them. You gasped as you closed your eyes and felt a sharp slap on your pussy.

“Make sure that you keep your eyes open. Don’t want to have to punish you again.”

“Oh my god...Please, Sy…”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, was it punishment, or mercy?

Sy’s cock pulsed behind you as he dipped his head and sucked a spot on your neck that made you keen. His voice was a bit gruffer as he replied to you.

“Not tonight,” His tongue soothed the hickey he’d made. “We’ve got time for that, Buttercup.”

His naughty promise made you arch in his grip, your ass meeting his balls and your breast shoved further into his hand. His voice turned back to velvet, and it seemed that you needed just a modicum of stimulation to have you hurtling over the edge.

Your palms were resting on his thick, hairy thighs as you sunk into the solid planes of his chest and abdomen, but they moved to the duvet cover as he and hooked both of your legs over his and widening his spread, splaying you open even more to the light of the bedroom.

The thought entered your head that you should have been embarrassed, but then you chased it away with the next thought that entered your head, and that you uttered.

“‘M soo wet and ready for you Sy. Only you, future husband…always ready for you, baby.”

A low groan rumbled past his lips as he stopped teasing and shoved two fingers into you, swiftly filling you up and causing your mouth to form a wide O.

“There she is. My beautiful little sexy wifey.”

You watched as Sy finger fucked you, your cunt sloshing and swallowing his digits as they pumped in and out. Sy felt how you wrapped around his fingers and he realized that he was sliding his leaking cock against your spine.

“Damn, so fucking wet and tight for me, baby. I’m trying to hold out, but you make it hard,” he pressed his erection into your back. “Literally.”

You felt the coil tighten in the core of you as you took his thumb in your mouth and fellated it as if it were his dick. He groaned again.

“What did you say the other day? Wanna be my what? My what kinda slut?”

“OhmygodSy!”

You couldn’t breathe.

You arched your back and tried to pull away, to run from the impending doom that watching him fuck you like this was creating, but he held you fast, making you watch him bury his now three fingers knuckle deep inside you again and again.

Sy kissed the tip of your ear as he leaned down to whisper conspiratorially to you.

“What was it again? What kind of slut you wanna be? What is it you need? What do I love to see you do? Wait a minute… let me think…”

Sy was commanding you to hold it the smoothest way possible, and when your eyes started rolling into the back of your head was when he relented.

“I remember now. Cum. Cum for me baby. I’m such a cum slut for you, too, Butterup…”

His hand squeezed your breast and pinched your nipple simultaneously as you hurtled over the cliff.

“O- Ohhhhhhhhh!”

“Thaaat’s right. Take it for me Buttercup. So fucking hot.”

You obeyed his order as the sensation washed over you and your pussy clenched around his fingers. You try to run again as Sy didn’t stop, but gradually slowed down as your pulses subsided and the wetness of your arousal increased. He held your face forward for you to watch as you slumped against him.

“Fuck… Sy…that was… shit…”

You felt him poking you in the back and you reached behind you as you craned your neck up to receive his tongue in your mouth for a sloppy kiss.

“Hmm, Buttercup. Not done with you yet.”

Sy took your hips in his hands and pulled you onto the bed, your hips presented to him, with your head still near the foot of the bed. You wiggled your ass as Sy kissed each of your cheeks and then licked a stripe up the middle of you and then dove in for more.

He destroyed your soul for a minute and then stopped, causing your eyes to snap open and meet his in the mirror. He straightened up and you tried to push back, onto his hard and leaking cock, or his thigh, anything that would give you that feeling you so desperately needed at the moment.

“I need you to watch me as I clean up this mess I made back here. Taste so fucking good. Keep your eyes open while I eat you out.”

You shivered.

“Yes, Sir.”

Sy raised his eyebrow; he felt like sinking deep into you. And so he did, stretching you out like it was the first time and causing you to bite your lip.

“Fuccckkk! Just can’t control myself no matter how hard I try, Buttercup.”

He looked down at your cunt swallowing his cock and he couldn't take it. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“So gotdamn hot and so fucking tight. Take me so well.”

You watched the look of agony/ecstasy on his face as he held your hips and drilled into you like a mad man, bearing his teeth and going all out, his feral look causing you to spasm your way into another orgasm.

He fucked you through it and then pulled out, causing you to scream in protest. Sy looked at you in the mirror and laughed, shaking his head.

“No ma’am, this is not how this is gonna go.”

Sy’s heart was pounding out of his chest despite his denial. His plan to make slow, sensuous love to you was ruined, because you were ruining him. He had to calm down. Then he saw the cream you’d left on his dick and his eyes rolled.

You practically came again as Sy grabbed his wet cock and stroked it as he looked at your upturned ass. Then he stopped and looked at you. Your mouth was open and you could tell that he was squeezing the base of himself and clenching his jaw.

“Give it to me Sy…give me your cum… please.”

He looked down at your pussy clenching on air and started jacking his cock again, a man possessed. Sy felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get back inside you right away. He shook his head, growled, slapped your ass and plunged inside you.

“Well ain’t that a daisy. Turns out…holy fuck…I can’t stop. Gonna give you this cum. Fuck fuck, holy fuck! This pussy is so good.”

You leaned down and delivered the perfect arch for him and he roared. He felt as if cum came spurting out of him like never before as he pounded you out.

“Jesus! Cum with me Buttercup!”

“Yesss. YesssssfeelssogoodddddSy!”

Sy sounded emotional as you cried for it, yelling in approval as his hot cum splashed against your shuddering walls.

You collapsed with Sy on top of you, his weight a comfort as you felt him soften and your mixed fluids leak out of you. You stayed that way for a few minutes listening to your breaths subside until Sy stirred and then tilt your head up so you could look at him in the mirror again.

He kissed your cheek then raised his eyebrow.

“Now. Like I said. Watch me as I clean up this mess I made back here.”

You gasped, scandalized.

“Sy! I have to get up for my interview–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it so you get a good night’s sleep, Buttercup.”

And all you could do was watch as he fulfilled his promise.

—-

You did sleep like a log after a few more orgasms which involved the shower, but you popped right up to get ready for your interview in the morning.

Sy was up as well, scheduled to go into work for the morning while you met with the team at ReHome, and you smiled as you brushed your teeth together in the double sink in the master bath. You also allowed yourself a minute to admire him cleaning up his beard with his clippers.

You could get used to this.

You dressed in a form fitting pencil skirt and flowy blouse with the attached tie that conveniently hid the hickey that Sy gave you the night before. You grinned at your hair and makeup as you admired the look in the mirror. You felt like a queen.

The whistle that your fiance gave you as you entered the kitchen boosted your confidence even more.

“Holy Shit, Buttercup. You look competent as hell.”

You laughed at Sy as he handed you a cup of your favorite tea. He’d bought a half a year’s supply when you pointed it out at the store the day before.

Yeah. You made the right choice.

“Thank you Sweetie. I feel good.”

Sy raised his eyebrow at you.

“Sweetie? What has caused this sudden turn of a pet name?”

You held up your hand.

“I’m wifey, remember?”

Sy feigned forgetfulness, “Oh yeah. That.”

He grinned as he pulled you into his arms and gave you a quick peck, releasing you so that your clothes didn’t wrinkle.

“We’ll talk about that more later. Right now, we need to get you downtown.”

30 minutes later, your heart started to pound as you walked into the ReHome building, and you turned and waved at Sy before he drove away in Betty. Then, you lifted your head and walked inside, reminding yourself that you were fucking spectacular at what you did, and that they would be lucky to get you.

—

Sy was on a construction site, a complex of sliding scale rate apartments, trying to get his drywallers in line because two young bucks decided to bring their beef from the strip club to work. He had Cole by the collar and was holding Joe back with another hand as as he tried to prevent them from fighting.

“You two need to keep this shit off my fucking worksite and get back to work before I bang your fucking heads together, ya gotdamn neanderthals…”

Suddenly, he felt the crowd of workers' attention shift, even the two idiots he had in hand. Billy, his foreman emitted a low whistle and muttered something under his breath.

“…a look at that piece of…”

The hair on Sy’s neck raised as he turned his head to see you walking toward him with a hard hat on. It was sexy as fuck.

He watched as Mike Ackerman walked close to you. Funny, he used to like the guy, but a strange feeling of possession and something else he couldn’t name rose within him when he saw him next to you.

“….you’re choking me….”

Sy remembered himself when Cole gasped, and he released both him and Joe and then turned to threaten Billy.

“Watch what the fuck what you’re saying, William. That is if you wanna live to take another breath.”

Billy shut his mouth as Sy straightened up and walked toward your group.

—

The interview had gone swimmingly.

The first thing you did was to disclose your relationship with Sy. The director of ReHome, Mike Ackerman, and his board chair, Nancy Christiansen, didn’t flinch.

The rest of the time went so well that Ackerman barreled ahead off script (you could tell at his secretary’s flustered reaction to his requests) and asked you about salary, moving logistics and start dates, even though you hadn’t formally accepted the job yet.

When Mr. Ackerman suggested you go to a work site of a current project where Castle Builders were working, you jumped at this unexpected chance to see Sy in his element. You had an hour before Sy was scheduled to pick you up and you decided to save him a trip.

When you pulled up to the site, you deftly donned the protective head gear and did not let your heels stop you from striding confidently through the construction debris. As you rode the service elevator to the fourth floor of the structure, you heard raised voices and distinct profanity as you got closer.

Hearing Sy’s voice above the fray made you feel some kind of way.

“Well, you’ll get to see Sy handle problems in real time, Ms. YLN.”

Mike smiled at you as Nancy shook her head and smiled, and both of them advanced toward the ruckus. You were shook.

There was Sy, in a hard hat, sleeves rolled up, veins popping, a look of pure dominance on his face and handling two grown men as if they were rag dolls. Damn he was hot. You hoped that everyone couldn’t see that your nipples were hard.

Everyone but Sy.

Someone whistled and everyone saw your group approaching and separated, while Sy whispered to a man at his side, looking none too pleased. Then, he turned to you, his countenance that of an angel.

“Look what we have here. VIPs.”

You couldn’t tell how Sy was feeling about it, but you smiled at him angelically.

“Hullo Sy,” Mike drawled familiarly, “I hear that you know Ms. YLN?”

Sy sideyed Mike, smiled at Nancy, and then gazed at you, taking you all in as if he hadn’t seen you this morning. He didn’t miss the look on your face or the way your tits sat all perked up for him in that shelf bra he saw you put on today. He wished you weren’t getting on a plane in a few hours.

“Yes, Yes I do. In fact, we go way back.”

Sy paused and looked around the space.

“And we’re about to go real far into the future.”

“Yes, I hear congratulations are in order for you both.”

Mike still had an inscrutable smirk on his face.

“Holy shit. This your girl, Cap?”

Billy had a sinking feeling that he was toast.

Sy wasn’t going to kill Billy, but he was super annoyed.

“This is YFN/YLN. Architect for ReHome and my future wife. She’s a woman. And a professional, so act like you’re one too, before I relieve you of your profession.”

Cole and Joe were whispering and laughing together, their beef forgotten at the revelation of Sy’s relationship.

“Get back to work, you’ve all wasted enough time as it is. We better be on track when I come back this afternoon.”

Billy was all business now.

“Sure thing, Cap. Back to work.”

Sy smirked at you quickly before his face settled back into his professional persona.

“You all need a tour?”

You could be a professional. Just like Sy.

“Mike thought it would be a good idea to see the work site as part of the interview.”

Ackerman cleared his throat.

“Yes, I wanted to get Ms. YLN’s opinions on the construction…”

Sy tried not to zone out as the idea that he would so love to hear his last name at the end of yours, but he gleaned enough to get the gist of the conversation.

“Sure thing, let’s head over this way– Watch out for those nails there- we’ve done something a little different…”

Your brain short circuited as Sy’s hand touched your back to steer you away from a construction hazard, but you got back on track pretty quickly.

—-

45 minutes later, you were waving at Mike and Nancy as they drove away and headed toward a small trailer at the edge of the construction site. Sy’s ‘field office.’

You entered the small space which was mostly occupied by two desks, two file cabinets, a small refrigerator, and a coffee pot was a quarter full of coffee. You heard Sy closing and possibly locking the door as you noticed saw some drawings of the construction on one desk and you leaned over to look more closely and sighed contentedly.

“I’m so excited, Sy! That went so well. I think this job is a sure thing.”

Sy walked up close behind you and pressed the steel bar in his pants into your expensively clothed backside.

“Me too, Buttercup. And I’ll tell you what else is a sure thing.”

“Jake Syverson…”

———

Reblog if you liked it!

Next part here.

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neversleepuntilfive · 3 months ago

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Hello! I see from your bio you love to draw! Would you care to share any drawings that you love? And also if I asked you to draw Buttercup, would you be willing? (No pressure! Only if it would be fun for you to draw him!) ALSO it's only now I'm seeing your art of TK hugging Harvey the horse?!! It's so gorgeous!!

Hi Cig! :D Thank you for the nice ask! I answer so late because i didn't wanna come empty handed - I actually love such drawing requests. I recently talked about needing to practice drawing animals, so it's perfect!!

Sooo there you are! I drew Buttercup!! And it was so much fun! I feel like looks enough like himself hahaha. I'm quite happy with the artwork!

And hehe, nearly. It's Carlos hugging Harvey but TK loves him as well! :D I'm still writing that fic about them.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanart #buttercup #I love him so much #digital art #nice ask week

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mambodork · 7 months ago

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You answered how each of the hoa buttercups found out about each other, but how do the other hermits react? Is there anyone oblivious to about hoa situation? (I think skizz would be, he would just think mumbo, grian and scar were the normal amount of weird and go ok to anything)

OH, what a fun question! I haven't been thinking too much about this but I'll try my best...

I think after Grian found out about Mumstache he would go straight to Iskall to complain (or maybe prank him along w Mumstache's help). Iskall would just end up laughing his ass off. Like, straight up losing it.

and then it's revealed later on that Grian is ALSO a little guy and Iskall loses it once again, he thinks this is the most hilarious shit that has ever happened ever.

For a more angsty reaction, I'm assuming everyone who knows Grian before his "ascension" AKA the Evo people would be quite mixed emotions at best. Like this guy you've known pretty well dissapears for a bit and then you meet him again and it's pretty cool except for the fact he is now some otherworldly god-thing space spaghetti who has to keep making himself new bodies cuz his old one got destroyed. Like, happy you're not dead man, but what the fuck. Anyways, angsty reunions are always kinda a given in watcher Grian stuff so!! Yeah, not much difference in there!!

I like to imagine Joel and Lizzie to be kinda grossed out by it... like imagine them seeing this weird alien brain creature and facial hair and also blue evil fairy and their face cringes and they just go "eugh..."

Stress would probably find them the cutest little thing ever.

Etho would probably be a little freaked out, i think? Like he would awkwardly just stand there looking at these totally weird & creepy creatures and pretend he's 100% okay with it. Meanwhile Bdubs would just be vocally terrified. Like screams and points whenever he sees them wandering around type thing.

#vale asks #hoa buttercups au asks

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avelera · 1 year ago

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Let's Play: What's Wrong with this Sculpture?

Following in the theme of sharing astonishing moments of ancient sculpture pedantry here on Tumblr, based on my brief undergraduate stint as a T.A of ancient art history, I thought I'd share one of my other proudest moments of being an absolutely insufferable know-it-all about ancient sculptures.

In the process, I hope I can also share some of the sort of largely useless (from a practical perspective) information that Tumblr tends to glory in, so buckle up buttercups.

This question was posed to me on a walking tour of the Capitoline Museum in my ancient art history class while I was living abroad. Our professor, a delightfully curmudgeonly Belgian, stopped in front and asked us to figure out why this sculpture is just plain wrong.

I intend to walk you through the process of how I got the right answer and, after gaining my teacher's rare approval, glowed with enough serotonin to power a small nuclear reactor.

So, let's return to the original question: what is wrong with this sculpture?

Because if you are truly eagle-eyed you should be able to spot what very famous sculpture this actually is, before an overly imaginative Frenchman brought it back wrong.

Hint #1: It was incorrectly restored.

Look closely at the the difference of the patina, or color of the stone. It's a bit hard to tell in this photo, but the head was added later. It's a paler white than the core of the torso, which is what we have of the original sculpture.

Hint #2: It was incorrectly restored in the 18th century by a Frenchman (Pierre-Étienne Monnot) who made some, shall we say, creative interpretations of what's going on here.

You can tell it's by an 18th c. Frenchman because the facial features are so delicate. Ancient statues tend to have less narrow and delicate chins and noses. In general, that is a dead giveaway when something is 18th century French vs. Ancient Greek or Roman.

Here's a good example. The first sculpture is 18th c. French, the second is the famous Venus de Milo. Note her blockier chin and less delicate features. So in the future, you can tell these sort of later additions to Greek or Roman sculptures if they added a new head because 17-19th century sculptors in Europe had tools (like finer drill tips) and tastes (beauty standards that favored more delicate men and women) that led to a pronounced difference in the faces.

Hint #3: Check out the anatomy of his lower shoulder. That's another addition, that arm should not be coming straight out of a torso where the muscle, if you look closely, is turned inward.

Seriously, that looks painful.

Hint #4: The sword he's holding up is just total nonsense for the Roman era. I mean, the restoration makes no secret of the fact that this sword is a later addition, but it's also just an absolute nonsense sword with its silly little curved cross guard. This Frenchman literally just made it up.

Here's an ancient sculpture with a sword in it that actually looks right:

From the Ludovisi Gaul, a famous Hellenistic Baroque work of Greek sculpture. Note the much blockier sword though I will admit, it could be a later addition, I don't know for 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure it's the original. Regardless, it fits the sculpture much better and let me add that sword I'm criticizing is completely made up for the sculpture we're talking about and is not there in the original sculpture that was incorrectly restored.

Ok, so those are all the hints.

Look closely at the body of the first sculpture. Cut away the arms that are not connected to the body correctly, the sword that shouldn't be there, the face that was far too delicate. When you separate those later additions out, can you tell me what sculpture that actually is?

Because here is the reveal!

The Discus Thrower, aka, the Discobolus by Myron.

The French restorationist got carried away by his own imagination, saw a twisted torso and thought it could only possibly be a warrior in the midst of twisting around to fend off a blow, not an athlete in the midst of a demonstration of skill. It's a martial, fanciful read that completely misinterpreted the subject.

This is why most restoration today employs a much lighter touch, rather than trying to reattach pieces incorrectly, they tend to just outline where the missing pieces are with a light sketch of an educated guess of what might have actually been there. Faulty restorations like the Capitoline Discobolus is one reason for this modern stylistic principle when it comes to restoration work.

When my professor asked us to identify the correct original sculpture that day on the museum tour, it was the sword that pinged me as wrong first, but zeroing in on the core of the sculpture, the torso, is what revealed the true statue underneath.

This notoriously difficult to please professor was very proud when I blurted out, "It's the Discus Thrower!" and the high-octane serotonin I got from his approval probably could have propelled me into the sun that day, and brought to you Yet Another Moment of Ancient Sculpture Pedantry.

#ancient history #ancient rome #art history #discobolus #there are very few things I'll brag about but naming this sculpture correctly is one of them #in part because there was so little to be gained lol oh well might as well make a tumblr post about it

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