#like if i'm gonna be insulted at least do it in an interesting way!!

[butchcarmy]

Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore. 

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time. 

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't. 

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows. 

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you. 

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself. 

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door. 

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place. 

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice. 

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places. 

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally. 

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite. 

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today. 

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles. 

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again. 

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long. 

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you. 

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose. 

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt. 

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away. 

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh. 

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway. 

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit. 

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake. 

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste. 

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone. 

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue. 

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't. 

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same. 

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign. 

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today. 

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back. 

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.” 

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more.  The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back. 

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately. 

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes. 

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot. 

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut. 

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still. 

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this… 

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face. 

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try. 

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly. 

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room. 

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended. 

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him. 

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind. 

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur. 

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste. 

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate. 

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue. 

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips. 

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important. 

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch. 

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears. 

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure. 

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp. 

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip. 

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind. 

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.” 

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth. 

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard. 

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth. 

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is. 

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored. 

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric. 

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late. 

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit. 

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips. 

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real. 

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline. 

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing. 

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face. 

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair. 

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it. 

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours. 

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together. 

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them. 

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless. 

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before. 

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon. 

~

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

[slayingqueenchal]

Got a thing for my sister, moony? | remus lupin x f!black!reader

Summary : sirius notices that when it's close to the full moon remus is an asshole but when it comes to y/n he's an absolute sweet heart

Warning : one year age gap (youre regulus's twin sis), Gryffindor reader (i hope that still makes u interested), pet names like 'love, sweet heart, darling', fluff

It was... Sirius figured it out. When remus told him about his so called lopsided hair

"Padfoot, your hair looks lopsided today" Remus said, his left hand on his chin and his right hand pointing on sirius's hair.

When you heard that, you chocked on your drink. I mean it's true, you agreed with remus, his hair does look lopsided. "Mhm, top tier comedy isn't it sis? " Said sirius sarcastically.

The other boys laughed but, remus looked concerned. You were ready for his insults to you, cause full moons in a few day.

"You alright, darling? " Said remus. Suddenly it was sirius's time to chocke on his water. "What the hell did you call my sister".

"Darling, you have a problem with that, padfoot" Said remus confidently. "Geez, almost got me a concussion" Sirius said, taking another sip of water.

Or when sirius, James and Peter found you and remus together in the library.

"What does this all mean im gonna go insane" you said. Defense against the dark arts is your least favorite subjects.

"Hey, hey, it's alright sweetheart, we can take a break, you know, I brought snacks" Remus smiled brightly.

"Really, what snacks? " You asked. "You know, the toast that you call moony toast, that one" He put it on the table. "And you made two! " You smiled.

"Yes, one for me, and one for you, of course i can't forget to make you one" Remus grinned, taking one piece of his toast and ate it.

And when you five sneaked to the astronomy towers to plan some pranks

"What should we do, to snivellus house Slytherin" James walked around the astronomy tower. "Maybe we could put nifflers in the Slytherins common room? " You said.

The boys said it was a good idea but, Remus called you "love, y/n, come". " Yeah, what is it, rem? " You sat next to him, his hands on your back.

"Look at that, that's a shooting star, what are you gonna wish for? " He said, pointing at the moving star.

"Hm, I want us to be friends forever, you and me, always, forever" You looked at the stars, and Remus, then the stars.

"Well, love, I want more than that" Remus said.

That's when Sirius snapped out of it. He realized what remus ment was not oh 'I want more than that like money,or something else's but it was 'I want to be more than friend's.

That evening, Sirius walked to the hospital wing, to see Remus.

"Where's y/n? " Sirius asked. "Oh, she just left, I told her to, she looks tired" Remus said, the pain in his eyes were still visible even though it was hours after the full moon.

"I need to talk to you" Sirius grabbed a stool, sitting closely to remus. "I know you fancy my sister, it's obvious! The way you look at her, the way you're a complete gentleman towards her, bloody hell you like my sister"

Remus's face looks like the moon had come early, "n-no", " Oh dont deny it, moons, I'm fine with it! " Sirius smiled.

"Okay, Sirius, i- I don't just like your sister, I fell for her--the way she acts, her beautiful hair, her pretty face, her soothing voice, and she's everything to me! But you'll hate me for falling in love with her"

"Seriously Remus? Gosh it's obvious that you love her, I mean go for it, ask her out, or something" Sirius smiled.

"Really? " Remus smiled, and Sirius nodded.

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

More of the brain worm that has taken me over, gonna probably post it to Ao3 here before too long. Already got another part started and so many ideas for additional stuff, someone please send help I've been consumed by this thing lol

Sorry if Waller seems out of character, outside of fandom I'm mostly familiar with her through Justice League the animated show & Justice League: Unlimited and her vibe there has always struck me as "deeply incredibly unlikable character that also kind of has a point but also has done so much fucked up shit in the name of her goals that you don't really care about her point anymore." So you know, complicated lol. If she's completely unrecognizable let me know, but I'm hoping she feels at least somewhat like Waller.

Forgot to say this in the last update, but still feel free to use all this as an overly long prompt if yall want. Literally anything I throw out to the void should be treated as a prompt lol If there's anything at all interesting to you in any of this nonsense go for it <3 <3 <3

---

Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Ruthless, heartless, vicious, cruel.

She’d been called it all. Wore the words thrown as insults as a badges of pride and valor. Because at the end of the day, when it came to the problems she was given to face, the issues she was meant to solve, those words meant she’d done what others had been too squeamish or cowardly to do. Life was a never ending slog of trolley problems and she the only one unshakable enough to pull the levers that needed pulling.

It wasn’t so simple as a matter of greater good.

Greater good was what the weak willed muttered to themselves after having feelings over doing the bare minimum. A justification used by people on all sides to do what they wanted with fractured, faulty logic thrown around like truth was a thing immutable. To assuage their guilt when they were forced to make a call they didn’t want to.

It wasn’t a matter of greater good. It was a matter of preservation. Of protection. Of digging through the filth to find the threats skittering beneath and crush them with ruthless abandon. Of facing a god and not blinking because if you did it could cost the world.

Of doing what needed to be done, no matter how underhanded or atrocious it was.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the throat of something that could threaten to destroy it all.

When the Ghost Investigation Ward had been shoved her way with it’s sucking wound of a budget, it’s bloated incompetent staff, its asinine methods she’d seen a rotted limb in need of hacking off. It hadn’t been until she’d been conducting her inspection, digging through the trash for a few pearls of effective agents she could snatch up and put to work elsewhere, that she’d truly seen what they were working on. The potential.

Potential to better arm themselves with in the forms of the strange new weapons being created.

Potential for threats far greater than anything even she had thought possible before.

The GIW as it had been when she’d first come across it was a fetid waste of time and resources. A laughing stock agency only secret because no one took them seriously enough to look. Made stupid and useless with its own conceited delusions of importance it didn’t actually have. Yet.

She went to work on it. Hacking away as she’d originally intended, but this time with a different goal in mind. She ripped out the weeds with bare, calloused hands and planted proficiency and loyalty in their place. She took over as director herself, tossing the self-aggrandizing fool that had been running the place into the ground to the dogs as the culprit for misappropriate spendings, saving the agency by tweaking things until their ballooning budget was pinned neatly onto the former director as an embezzling charge.

Then she got to work.

The Fentons were brilliant, if entirely insane. But Amanda could work with that. She’d reigned Harley Quinn in - more or less - she could do the same to the two deranged scientists that so eagerly wanted to be apart of the fight against the dead. Especially when the benefit came in the form of the inventions they threw together so easily, especially when those inventions were weapons.

It took very little to get them on board with her plans for the GIW. Keeping their focus could be a chore, at times, but she didn’t even have to really do much in the way of pressing to get them back where she wanted them. They craved knowledge and understanding nearly as much as they craved the eradication of the entities themselves. Letting them have the first look at a new subject here, free reign over a vivisection there, it took so little to fuel their fervor and keep them busy working on the projects she set for them.

Things had been going smoothly.

For a time at least.

Until Phantom.

He’d been the main focus of the previous director’s attention, the big fish he’d so desperately wanted to catch and put up on his wall. Amanda wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a tempting prospect, but not one she’d put above the other projects she had set in motion since taking over. No, Phantom was powerful, enough to be a real problem one day, but she could the awkward youth in the way he held himself, the inexperience in how he handled situations. She had time to get everything else in order before focusing on getting Amity Park’s would-be hero brought to heel.

And he would be brought to heel. One way or another.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the Core of a fledgling god and bending him to her will.

An artifact, old an powerful, recovered with some effort. A means of controlling specters, of chaining them to the will of the artifact’s wielder. Dangerous in the wrong hands. Dangerous in the right hands.

It was shattered, and even whole and functional Phantom was resistant to its power. But Amanda Waller prided herself in her ability to see the potential in things. It could be repaired, be made better. Even gods could be bound, be made to kneel, with the right pieces, with the right application of force.

It was just a matter of time to gather everything needed.

Phantom didn’t know he could single handedly destroy every last member of the Justice League. The baby fat, the innocent eyes, the split-second hesitations when he fought. He knew enough to be confident in fighting the usual ghosts that haunted Amity Park, but he still very much saw himself as a little fish. Maybe it was the part of him that was still Daniel Fenton, gangly teenager not quite sure what he was truly capable of yet.

She had time before the Fenton’s son truly became an issue. Time to judge if his parents’ obsessiveness would overcome their - rather shoddy, by Amanda’s estimation - parental instincts and continue to hunt him once they knew the truth. Time to get as much out of them as she could before hand, should they falter at the idea of attacking their own son. Time for the staff to be repaired and returned to working order, to get the other items needed for the truly big fish hidden on the other side of the veil between worlds.

She had time.

Until she didn’t.

Pariah Dark had not been something she thought she’d have to account for - not yet, at least.

If he wasn’t already dead, she’d ring the Ghost King’s neck with her bare hands. His arrival had opened Phantom’s eyes to what he was capable of, of just how big of a fish he was. Worse still, Phantom’s defeat of the war mongering King changed the state of play. Phantom was no longer an impressively powerful half dead teenager.

He was King Infinite.

He was an Ancient.

He was getting on her last damn nerves.

Phantom’s rogue gallery were now firmly under the boy’s control. Still distinct nuisances around Amity Park, but no longer considered true concerns. They were loyal to their boy king, delighting in ruffling his feathers but never crossing the line into treason or attempted regicide. Which meant that the GIW was the only thing that held his attention.

Amanda took the time to send a care package to the former GIW director in his tiny, dank prison cell. As thanks for his carelessness in revealing to the entire town - both living and dead - of the agency’s existence and their intentions. Had he stuck to standard protocol, Phantom would have been none the wiser to their presence. Would have scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders at the ghost that went missing upon occasion. Would have been boredly uninterested in the people his parents had begun working with. Would have been taken by surprise when they finally came for him.

But no.

No that self-obsessed, fame chasing imbecile had to go and announce to everyone and their dead mother that the GIW existed and exactly what it was they were in Amity Park to do.

Phantom knew what they were there to do.

They could only count on his naive certainty that he could broker peace with them for so long.

Peace. As if he and his people weren’t the invading force, the monsters slipping in through the cracks between worlds, the latest threat that had to be accounted for. As if he himself hadn’t rent their world asunder himself in another world, another time. No. Peace was not something they could hash out with this baby-faced monarch with his too-big crown. Peace was the assurance of safety, security. Of control of the situation.

There could be no peace.

The higher ups were somehow surprised when Phantom took that to mean there would be war.

Amanda Waller was not.

The Fentons, as suspected, took the right side when all was revealed. Steady hands and flinty eyes as they crafted the weapons that would be needed for the coming fight. Minds even sharper in their maddened grief, hearts set on revenge for the son lost and the entity that stole his face and friends and sister in his garish pretense at humanity. They were blinded to the reality of the situation in its entirety, the potential in what their son truly was, but at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. They did what she needed them to do, they could believe whatever it was they wanted so long as they did.

By the time the boy king and his armies marched upon the Amity park facility, preparations had been put into place. The base in Amity had been stripped back to bare essentials, everything of importance moved to more secured locations.

The weapons labs.

The artifact.

The girl.

All tucked well away from the front lines where Phantom and his motley crew could not reach. Their time to be put in play would come, but not yet. First she needed to gauge what Phantom and his people were capable of, what they were willing to do in the name of what they wanted. Amity Park was a pawn well sacrificed on that front. As were the other facilities she’d left easy to find.

The problem with making children gods, with giving them crowns and calling them King and giving them armies to play with, was that they thought there should be rules. That even in the trenches tearing apart their enemies, there was a certain level of playing fair that everyone was held to. They thought there was a way the world worked, of how things should be that blinded them to more effective options even as time stretched on and desperation set in.

It was the Dead’s problem though, not hers.

She reached out to the Justice League. Sour faced, unhappy, bitterly reluctant to accept that she needed their help. Stone faced and barely containing their rage at what little they knew of the situation, they agreed to a meeting.

She didn’t let herself smile until she was well and truly alone in her office.

Greater good. A lie people told themselves. A fairytale told to children. A means of convincing the weaker willed that they had no choice, that they had a noble duty to bend to. A belief that could be wielded like a weapon if the fantasy of the idea had dug in deep enough. And there were few it had dug into so deep as the members of the Justice League.

Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands clenched tight on a victory long in the making.

---

Part Four

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔼𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔 𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕣 𝕡𝕣𝕠 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @wabatle request: ASK FOR OBEY ME REQUESTS AND I SHALL DELIVER!!!!

anywayssss can I req the brothers (but if all of the brothers are too much just Lucifer, Satan, and Asmo pls!) + Diavolo with an mc that's INSANELY GOOD at playing the electric guitar please?

Thank you pookie you're the best 🤭🥰😍💗

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ THANK YOUUU I choosed the option with less chars hope you don't mind -w-"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Lucifer plays on piano and you play on electric guitar... he listens to classic music, you most likely listen to something harder, you're literally opposites!

✧ the only thing you share is most likely that you're good with hands...

✧ your instruments don't match tho so unfortunely you have no way of playing together...

✧ as for different tastes... it never hurts to try, right? As long as you won't insult his taste, he won't insult yours. And who knows? Maybe the two of you will find some nice songs that you normally wouldn't even reach for?

✧ he's definitely a bit surprised when you tell him you do it professionally, but he's also interested second after...

✧ maybe he never considered playing on electric guitar but now he certainly thinks about at least trying... especially with you as his teacher

"You want me to try this badly? Maybe later... I'd like to see you on piano as well, are you aware, my dear? So do we got each other a deal~?"

✧ he's not really the best player... he may not want to admit it, but you can see his fingerprints aren't really used to strings

✧ as for you... if you won't success at playing piano either, he'll tease you just a little bit

✧ tho if you are... he'll be proud of you, but also his pride is slightly hurt that you had no problem playing on his instrument...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@wabatle - come get your scary brother!

✧ Satan definitely has some electric guitar solos and songs on his playlists... I mean he's literally avatar of wrath! It just kinda goes along that he'd let it out in way of stronger music... plus it's opposite taste of Lucifer's which adds onto it...

✧ he doesn't play himself but he still knows a lot about it

✧ he asked you quite straightforward to just play something for him, expecting to catch something he may correct but... it was harder than he imagined...

"Well... Maybe you should learn more advanced chords- You were just warming up? Alright, I'm listening..."

✧ surprised that you're actually professional with electric guitar but after a day he's already used

✧ will say stuff like "my lover's better at playing electric guitar than you're at playing piano" to Lucifer just to piss him off

✧ if you actually win in the little competition he made against eldest brother tho... he's gonna have the time of his life by rubbing it into his face whenever he gets the chance

✧ other than that, he actually likes hearing you play! Especially if you're playing more aggressive songs, he finds it a bit calming!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane @wabatle - come get your cat lover!

✧ you can't tell me Asmo doesn't find it hot whenever you play electric guitar for him

✧ he'll shamelessly beg you to play a song for him, while he watches you or does his make up

✧ but you'll always get the best and loudest applause from him, followed by big hug and wave of kisses!

✧ he loves the most the finger play you do during complicated solos

"Well that's quite an experienced~ I dare say even better than mine! Hehe~ Oh c'mon, it was a compliment, darling!"

✧ he wanted to learn how to play guitar untill you told him he can't have long nails whole doing so

✧ now he sees playing on guitar as a curse... so! He does his best to plan aesthetic short nails design for you, so they'll fit your style and guitar design!

✧ whenever you come over, he'll make you sit down so he can do or fix your nails first and only later he'll let you play on guitar

✧ he gushes a lot to everyone he meets about you whenever the topic drops even slightly to music. He's just such a proud boyfriend!!

✧ you never have to worry about not knowing what to play or learn around him too... he goes to so many parties, he usually gives you few ideas, be it for songs that already exist or for your own songs

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl @wabatle - come get your pretty princess~

✧ Diavolo is the type to appreciate any talent, especially if you're so dedicated towards it

✧ maybe Barbatos sent you annoyed glare when you payed such a hard songs in the middle of castle but... if it doesn't disturbs Diavolo, than what can he do?

✧ I feel like he'd actually enjoy how electric guitar sounds and may even get so into it he tries finding some songs dedicated for that instrument

✧ definitely asked you if you could teach him how to play electric guitar out of pure curiosity

✧ he's actually pretty good at it! He may not get it first time but he's definitely a fast learner

✧ if he was as dedicated as you, you two could probably play together, but he has slightly different interests too...

✧ tho he mostly still enjoys listening to you play! He won't even mind it if you play a song or two while he's doing his work

"Oh no, no need to leave! Your music helps me concertate. But if you're bored, I have few ideas what we can do during my quick break!"

✧ he'll definitely get you into few concerts if that's your dream and you bet he'll be there cheering for you!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@wabatle - come get your childish ruler!

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 34 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 2 | lesson 33 | lesson 35

i might be getting ahead of myself here, but are we lilith ?? like is that what's happening rn ??? he's not saying mc's name, and raphael doesn't day their name in the next scene...if so then that's actually really fucking sad 💀

it makes sense though, belphie not wanting mc to go into his head bc he's still clinging to the past and doesn't want to lose them forever like he lost his little sister forever, especially since human life is so finite compared to that of a demon or an angel or a reaper

also it's obvious by his choice of words that despite him looking older, belphie is very, very young in his mindscape, just like mammon was. i feel like this also shows how close mams and belphie are even if it's not shown much on screen in the game, or at least how much belphie takes after mammon's, if not all of his older brothers traits, for better or worse

well nvm...i still think my theory is valid though. belphie wants to go back to his old life and end up not losing lilith, but still have mc with him

i wonder how similar mammon and belphie's bond in the celestial realm is to their bond in the devildom. is belphie still as reluctant to ask for help and advice openly? is the banter still the same? are there less insults? how does the age gap here cause them to treat each other differently if at all? or the lack of angelic status?

oh i'm gonna cry

big brother mammon will always have my heart and i need more of him

we know belphie's love of stars and constellations and the night sky in general started when he was in the celestial realm, and seeing it manifest in mammon in his mindscape makes my heart happy, even if mammon isn't the reason he became interested in astronomy (was it michael? lucifer? idk i don't remember)

i also think it's very interesting how belphie's brain is actively working against him "wanting to hide from mc". he literally said "i don't want you to see the inside of my mind" and is hiding away from them. i think, in reality and in his mindscape, he's running from the fact that he has to face his feelings about the idea of mc leaving to go to the "human realm" and the possibility of losing them forever like he lost lilith

this was (obviously) not beel speaking, but his inner thoughts in the shape and voice of beel. circling back to belphie having the best and worst traits of his brothers, his insecurity and need for reassurance rivals levi's, and we don't get to see it as blatantly because he masks it way better than levi does

ok so we're here in the timeline...interesting. how much time passed between luci and dia's first meeting and the celestial war? how much time had passed between the celestial war and mc's initial arrival to the devildom? how much had belphie aged?

angels and demons age different than humans do, and belphie doesn't feel any older than like...10 or 11 at the most, but beel seems older than that. maybe its his mind warping things to make himself seem and feel younger, but maybe he really was that young. was lilith even born at this point? how old was belphie during the time of the war ?????

also i'm mad we didn't get to see michael bc i wanna know what he looks like but oh well 🧍🏾

oh baby :((((

i'm not the biggest belphie fan AT ALL, at least canon belphie, but i think it's necessary to acknowledge how his trauma severely affects the way he acts. he went from blaming himself, to blaming an entire race of people for his sister's death. he feels like he should've been the one to die, even if it meant leaving his twin without him

now, if he got a proper redemption arc after lesson 16, THEN we could talk. i think the devs fumbled his character in that regard, but my hcs about his redemption will have to suffice for now

he didn't want mc to see this dark part of himself because he hates that he still has this mindset, that he's trapped in a cycle of "what ifs" and wishing it were him instead of her, constantly ruminating and letting his anger and grief fester without ever dealing with it properly and letting himself heal. he not only thinks he doesn't deserve to heal, but that he doesn't deserve to live long enough to see himself heal, that he doesnt deserve to live at all

WHY ARE YOU BEING DIFFICULT????

i mean i knew this would happen since its only lesson 34 and there's still 6 more to go...but damn

i love and hate the fact that he's so smart. like, they could easily just ask barbatos to send them back to the human realm if it was that serious. he's clearly taken a liking to them. lucifer knows something's up, and he won't forge a pact with them until he gets to the bottom of whatever's going on

initially, i thought it was a spell to bring them back since he'd been the one facilitating the trips into the brothers' mindscapes this whole time, but this is wayyy more interesting

i feel like the barbatoses communicate across timelines, or that their lives intermingle with each others' somehow, so whatever they feel for one person in a specific timeline is felt for ever version of them in every timeline. we know barbatos, at the very least, knows that kayden is an important person in the grand scheme of things, whether it be because of the way diavolo feels about them or because they play a large part in the obey me version of a canon event

if it's more than base level importance, we can assume that there's a level of trust and love that barbatos feels for mc that stretches across time (callback to the login screen's dialogue)

maybe he gave us the piece of the grimoire for a reason outside of belphie's mindscape escapades. what if this is how we gain lucifer's trust? if a demon as powerful as barbatos can give mc a piece of his grimoire, then he should be able to make a pact with them, seeing as they're trustworthy enough to be in cahoots with THE time demon

anyways barbatos is nightbringer and you can't tell me otherwise. unless you think it's michael. then i might hear you out...i'm stuck between thinking either of them is the titular character simply because of the simultaneous lack and abundabce of emphasis on michael's importance

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Good Enough - Edward Nashton (The Riddler) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Edward has never felt good enough for anyone or anything. When the self-help resources fail to work and the feelings of inadequacy grow stronger by the day, he begins to doubt that he's even worthy of being loved, but you're there to comfort him and remind him of just how much he matters.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Minor spoilers for Riddler: Year One, a lot of angst, hurt with comfort, fluff, mentions of smut (but no actual smut)

Repulsive. Broken. Unwanted. Not good enough. The words he told himself had buried their way into his thoughts, repeating themselves like a twisted mantra that never ended, even with the constant use of every self-help tip and coping skill he had learned. That same mantra had been there so long that he couldn't remember when it had first started.

Maybe it was never something new at any point; maybe it was just the truth that he kept trying to deny with ledgers filled line to line with positive affirmations that he could never convince himself of. 'You are good enough.' No, he wasn't. He never would be. He was fighting a losing battle against himself.

At least at the end of the day, he had someone to come back home to, someone who told him every day how much she loved him. Before he had met you his only form of salvation was his puzzles, like it had always been since he was a young child. With you here, though, he had more than just riddles and crosswords online and in the local paper to look forward to after a long workday. You were the only good thing that Gotham City had to offer. You were an angel, his angel.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and closed it behind him, a smile making its way onto his face at the sound of your shoes against the wooden floor as you made your way from the bedroom and toward him. You grinned widely as you saw him, your arms outstretched and wide open before you wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Hi," He murmured in greeting, hugging you back as he nuzzled his face into your soft, beautiful hair. You smiled even wider, looking up at him with eyes that always made him melt with just a single look into his own. "How was work, Eddie?" You questioned, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"It was—" He paused, trying to find the right words. Shit. It was shit. His boss was a condescending, passive-aggressive, arrogant prick who slacked off more than he worked and still managed to be more successful in his career than Edward had ever been. As much as he wanted to vent, he didn't want to burden you with more than he already was by being with you.

"Fine." He finally decided, putting on a fake smile. "Same old calculations and whatnot. Nothing interesting." He lied. It was another day of statements from Zach that were insulting enough to strike a nerve, but not obvious enough to report to HR. Not like it'd matter, it would probably get swept under the rug and forgotten about. Some days Edward wondered if his superior was actually the pompous dick he thought him to be or just an idiot with confidence.

"Oh." You could see right that smile on his face. Something was bothering him like it had been for days now and you could tell. It broke your heart knowing he was struggling and that same struggle left him unable to feel okay confiding in anyone. "Are you sure...?" You questioned, a hand moving upwards to cup his cheek gently, the man leaning into your comforting touch.

He had lied to you. How could you lie to her? You manipulative, disgusting freak. As the thoughts filled his head, guilt washed over him. God, he didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve your affection, and most certainly not your love. Did he deserve any love at all? Was there anything to love about—

"Eddie?" Came your soft voice, the sound like that of an angel. He broke himself out of his thoughts, smiling at you again. "I think I'm gonna go pick us up some takeout for dinner. What do you want?" He changed the subject, moving away from you and back towards the door.

"No." You said a bit sternly, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the nearby couch, sitting down with him. "You're not getting out of this that easily. Tell me what's wrong, Eddie."

"It's not you, I promise that it's not." He insisted quickly, afraid he had upset you with his earlier lie. She's going to leave you. She never should've been yours to begin with. You ruin every good thing you get. He grew tense as the fears filled him and threatened to consume him whole. You were so perfect, so deserving of every amazing thing the world had to offer and more, and he was just... Edward Nashton.

"Woahwoahwoah!" Your hands shot forward at the sight of tears beginning to well up in his eyes, your thumbs wiping them away as they fell. "I'm not mad, honey. I just—" You stopped, unsure how to phrase things. "I'm worried about you. You can tell me anything, as cliche as that sounds. You're not a burden to me; you never have been, and you never will be."

He buried his head into your shoulder, sobbing into it as your arms came to hold him close to you. "Why? Why do you love me? I–I don't understand..." He cried softly against you. "All of these years you've spent with me and I can't comprehend why. Is it out of pity?" He asked. While to anyone else it would've sounded like a bold accusatory remark, you knew that the question was genuine. He needed to know.

"Look at me, Edward." You commanded gently, him moving so he could face you and meet your eyes with his own. The sight of tears running down his face and wettening his glasses broke your heart. "Three years we've been together. In those three years, I've fallen more in love with you than I have anyone else. We've made love more times than I can count. I even wait for the day you'll put a ring on my finger, no matter which one it is. It could be made out of scrap metal for all I care, as long as it's from you.

You're smart, Eddie. Tell me, does everything I just listed sound like I only pity you? Or does it sound like I'm head-over-heels in love with the man in front of me? You are good enough. I love you, Edward Nashton."

That made him cry even harder, but you were there to hold him, just as you had been since you stumbled into his life. If he wasn't good enough for himself, then at least he was good enough for his angel. You wanted a ring on your finger? He'd get you one in due time. Anything for the one who showed him that he could be loved, that he wasn't some type of vermin in the cesspool that was Gotham City. You are good enough. For once, he believed it.

[nectardaddy]

notebook paper | hinata shoyo

chapter seven | it's a party [ ✎ ]

masterlist

ignore timestamps

Putting the car in park, and quickly sending out an I'm here text, he swore he found himself spiraling. Leg bouncing in a methodical rhythm as anxiety got the best of him, and brown eyes flickered to the door just outside his car window.

"Man, I think I'm already drunk," a loud voice from the back of the car rang out, followed by an, even more obnoxious, laugh.

"We're not even there yet! If you puke in this car with me in it, Bo, I'll kill you," the man next to him grumbled before shifting his eyes out the window. "Holy shit, pipsqueak, is that her?"

Seeing the frame of a woman exit the door he was previously looking at, he couldn't help but grin. A smile that pulled hard on his cheeks before looking back at his friends, "yeah!"

"My man can pull!" The loud voice returning in a cheer as he leaned, far over, Oikawa to look out the window. "Dude, you weren't kidding! She's pretty!" Before he could say anything else, he was shoved off harshly, followed by a rough "get off of me!"

"I know!" Matching the energy of Bokuto as he turned his head to look at her, "I can't believe she said yes! This is like the greatest day of my life!"

But the loud voices abruptly stopped as the car door opened and shut, the woman getting in with a smile and a soft chuckle. "I didn't know this was the greatest day of your life. I thought I was pretty boring, honestly."

Hinata's cheeks burned at her words, and his friend's laughter that followed made him sink in his seat. "You heard that?" Hands finding themselves in auburn hair as he let out a nervous chuckle.

"You were yelling, it was hard not to. But thanks." Giving him a small smile that made his heart skip a beat.

A simple statement that made Oikawa cackle with laughter at his roommate's reaction. "Holy shit! Shrimpy look at your face!"

"Shrimpy?" She asked, a laugh leaving her lips as she looked back at the brunette, "I've heard better insults from middle schoolers."

"Oh my god! Sho, she's fucking awesome!" Bokuto grabbed his friend's shoulders from behind, reaching from the backseat and shaking him. Making the man laugh in return, anxiety washing away from Bokuto's strong personality. Stark hazel eyes flickered over to her, a drunken smile upon his lips. "Tonight is gonna' be so much fun!"

One single sentence held the tone for the evening.

Brown eyes watched as she laughed at every joke, smile at him like no one else was in the room, and take his hand when he offered to dance with her - and, oh my god, were the only words in his head when she did.

Taking in every inch of her in awe was an understatement - he was a doomed man. The way she flourished in conversation with him - speaking of things that interested her, silly memories from the past, right down to outrageous stories from school - made him all but reel.

He swore he fell hard for her that night, skinning his own knees from the force of it. Finding himself walking her to her door by the end of the evening, out of generosity, and for the sole fact he simply couldn't bring himself to see the night end. He hoped this wasn't an outlandish fairytale, where she would whisk herself off at the stoke of midnight.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" The question slipping easily from his tongue just as her hand reached for the doorknob; but he watched as his hopes slipped right through his fingers as her smile faltered.

"Teaching," she said with a wry smile. "And after I'm probably gonna' sleep for the rest of the day, honestly." At least she was honest, he thought.

"Right, I'm sorry." Giving her a nervous chuckle in response after, "I did keep you out pretty late."

"Don't worry about it, I had a lot of fun."

"So did I."

It wasn't as if he expected anything from the woman, he wholeheartedly didn't even believe she would agree to going today anyway. But he felt his heart strings pull as she opened her door, stopping in the door way to give him a smile. "I'll text you, ok?"

"Alright, have a good night."

"Have a good night, shrimpy."

And just like that, she closed the door, leaving him with a silly grin on his lips.

I'm sorry for having one measly screenshot - I got really into the writing

but I am so in love with this man!!

yn changed his contact name to shrimpy <3

hinata can fucking dance oh my god

he does that really cheesy shit where he took her hand and spun her around (giggling and kicking my feet just thinking about it he's adorable)

he's down horrendously now - he doesn't care if it's been a few days

both bokuto and oikawa were passed tf out in his car and he had to shake them awake when they got home

yn was very tempted to wake up suga and tell him about how the night went

taglist under cut

@muyyie @wyrcan @eggyrocks @eclecticeggknightpsychic @nbcvs

@marzzn @naweirdo @yukii-1 @girlkissersco @yuminako @kunimix

@empress-pug-pug @cherrypieyourface @lvtilzs @punkhazardlaw @localgaytrainwreck

@crownj1min @sereniteav @madiexuberant @st4rdusttx @chizunata

@le000xxgrd

[nicksolemnlyswears]

WASH YOUR WORRIES AWAY

pairing: opla!buggy the clown x reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+, cursing, oral (male receiving), p in v, honestly this one is pretty tame but it's cute <3

a/n: hi hi hi! im back with my bullshit! no but this one is really fucking sweet (maybe a tad cheesy at the end). i had the idea for a while so i was really happy to see that he people of tumblr voted for this choice on the poll.

i started this being super naughty with sanji and zoro and now look at me being a doll with buggy and mihawk (which is strange cause they can easily be the kinkiest mfs).

so i think im gonna write another oneshot for buggy in the near future. maybe one for nami and then i'm gonna go back and write the third part for the sanji x reader x zoro. that's gonna be real fucking interesting. it'll be my first time writing a threesome so wish me luck!

thank you guys for reading and putting up with my wild imagination!!

(as always my psa that this is solely based on the live action)

Buggy the Clown stomps into the Jolly Roger angrily. His crew is nowhere to be found on the empty deck. He expected them to be awake, running around, making plans to get their Captain back. Instead, they are snoozing in the rooms of his ship, shielding themselves from the cold ocean breeze.

Buggy mutters insults towards his freaks under his breath. The lot of them should freeze for all he cares. The fishmen kidnapped him, and all they're doing is getting their fucking beauty sleep. He's starting to believe he wasn't missed.

He beelines to the Captain's quarters, where he finds a pretty sight welcoming him. You're on his side of the bed, peacefully asleep. Buggy intentionally slams the door behind him, rudely waking you up from your slumber.

You jump at the bang and sit up, looking alarmed at the intrusion. "Buggy!" You gasp, relieved to see him, "You're back!"

You and the freaks have been working nonstop on keeping the ship afloat and searching for its Captain. You've barely rested in weeks, tracking down Arlong and his crew.

Today, you finally found the location of Arlong Park and set sail. You stopped an island away to let the freaks rest before marching into battle. They will need it to beat the fishmen or at least make enough damage to get Buggy out.

"No thanks to you and my useless crew," Buggy bites, throwing his coat to the side dramatically. At least his theatrics were not hurt while he was away.

You stand from the bed and approach him softly. He's like a wounded animal that might bolt at any second.

"That's not fair. You know we were on our way," you softly say, feeling bad about his harsh tone. Buggy loves to tease you and push your buttons, but it's not often he's genuinely angry at you.

"Taking your sweet ass time, it seems," he cries out, gesturing at the door as if referring to his sleeping crew.

You let it go and decide not to continue arguing. He's physically and emotionally wounded. Not to mention his ego. You stand centimeters away and grab his gloved hand, "Let me make it up to you, Bugs."

Being this close, you can assess his appearance closely. His makeup is smeared more than usual; it's faded on some parts as his blue stubble breaks through the white face paint, and his eyes look defeated.

"Yeah, make it up to me. Let's see what you come up with," he says sarcastically, letting your hand fall from his grasp. His words might drip with sarcasm, but they are a plea for help in disguise. So you pay him no mind, knowing that by the end of the night, you'll have him like putty in your hands. Only to rebuild him back into the Buggy the Clown you know and love and the Marines fear.

"I'll be right back." You tell him, leaving the room momentarily. You return minutes later with a freak who pushes a wooden tub behind you with steaming water. The freak barely spares a glance at Buggy, scared that the clown might lash out at him.

Closing the door once he leaves, you prepare the water with oils and fragrances. Buggy watches from afar, sitting on the wooden chair he has in his room. He's used to hunching on it for hours, examining his maps, and executing master plans for the next big adventure. He likes looking over his shoulder to watch you sleep peacefully as insomnia grabs hold of him. It brings him peace.

"Come 'ere, Bugs," you say, grabbing his hand to help him up. Buggy grumbles in protest despite looking forward to the bath. "Let me take care of you," you whisper, looking up at him. You place your hand on his chest in comfort.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I'm a grown ass man," Buggy gruffs out, avoiding your gaze. It's not like he's felt like a man in the past few weeks as he's been carried around in a sac as a mere head while his body was beaten constantly by the fishmen. It was degrading and made him feel extremely weak.

You roll your eyes at him but play along, "You're right. You are a grown, strong man. Will you indulge me, though? It'll make me feel better seeing you're okay."

Buggy finally meets your eyes and nods, "For you."

There's no reason for him to say no. You're the person that knows him best in this world. You probably know what he's feeling without him telling you in the first place. Still, he acts difficult because he's bratty like that and because sometimes he has a hard time understanding you're there for him no matter what, with no ulterior motive.

You softly smile at him and pat his chest. Your hands trail up to the scarf tied around his neck, and your fingers swiftly undo the knot. You throw it on the bed as you continue down his chest, reaching the buttons of his vest.

Buggy watches you closely as you concentrate on undoing the buttons. Your touch never lifts from his skin for more than a second, granting him the pleasure of feeling your soothing touch after many weeks.

The vest falls on the floor as you push it back over his shoulders. Fingertips tickle his arm as you reach his hand to take off one of his gloves. Your eyes timidly meet his as you plant a small kiss on his palm.

Before he met you, he never thought such a minuscule action could mean so much. Now, he craves it often. It's your way of saying 'I love you,' seeing as Buggy is not good with words. You give him options to show his love, and that's priceless to him.

Your curious eyes have already taken in all his bruises and minor cuts. There's no doubt Arlong's men had been beating him up. You don't bring them up, knowing Buggy will close up again. He'll talk when he's ready.

You kneel on the floor, helping him off his boots, and quickly after, you get rid of his pants, too. You guide a butt-naked Buggy to the tub, ordering him to get in.

"Ohh," Buggy bites back a moan as the warm water soothes his aching muscles. The smell of eucalyptus wafts up to his nose. It's his favorite scent because it's the one you used when you met.

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" You ask him, untying the knot on his head scarf.

"You said you were gonna take care of me. Do whatever you want, sweet cheeks," he knows you've already made your decision, as his hair is already down before he can respond. You beam at the nickname, knowing your Buggy is softening up.

His bright blue hair falls down his back and into the water. Grabbing a jug, you fill it with water and softly tell Buggy to tilt his head back. The water cascades down his head, wetting his hair and turning it a beautiful deep teal.

Buggy opens his eyes and sees your calm expression as you concentrate on not getting any water on his face. A small fraction of his anger chips away, seeing how much you care for him. Only you'd know he hates the feeling of water pouring down his face.

You grab oils from your selection and brush them through his hair, ridding him of any sand and grime stuck in it. Buggy involuntarily closes his eyes as you massage his scalp with the tip of your fingers. A mixture of a sigh and moan falls from his lips.

When his hair is clean and untangled, you grab the bar of soap and a sponge to clean his body. Your eyes are attentive to any bruise or cut, careful not to hurt him any more than he is.

You notice his neck is quite stiff as you spread the soap suds across his back, so you spend some time massaging the area. You dig your thumbs into the tension knots, causing Buggy to become more vocal, groaning and moaning whenever you hit a spot that needs extra care.

Moving to kneel beside the tub, you wash his chest and stomach. Buggy simply stares as you focus on getting every speck of dirt off of him. Any other day, he'd be making you laugh and throwing inappropriate jokes, but the time didn't seem right to him. So, he kept quiet and observed how you tried to hide your grimaces whenever you encountered a nasty bruise.

You massage his knees when you get to his legs because you know they hurt. Buggy might not complain about any pain, but you know the chop chop fruit makes his joints ache when he uses his abilities.

As the dirt is washed away from his body, so does his anger. He's sure that by the end of the bath, he won't be any better than a harmless puppy, and that's all you wanted. Buggy needs to let go of the anger he harbors inside so he can come back stronger than ever and lead the crew to its next adventure, whatever that may be.

You leave his face for last. You're the only person on earth who has the honor and pleasure of cleaning his face free of its makeup. Carefully, you wipe away with a rag the grease paint covering his handsome face. There's layer upon layer of paint staining his skin. A splash of blue over his eyes, red on the corner of his lips, white on his hairline. You wipe away each layer until you're able to see your Buggy. Not Buggy the Clown.

"There you are," you smile, cupping his face. Buggy's hand comes up to encase yours to simply kiss your palm. Beautiful blue eyes stare back at you shyly. Without all the makeup, he tends to feel more self-conscious about his nose.

"You know I was coming for you, right?" You ask him to make it clear you never intended to abandon him.

"I know, Princess," he says, leaning further into your touch. Your thumb brushes over his stubble before you pull back your hand. A soft protest leaves him.

"Let's get you out," you murmur, helping him out of the bath. You tell him to stay where he is as you fetch the towel.

Once you start something, you have to finish it. With the same love and care, you dry Buggy's body, kissing his bruises as you go along. You get on your knees to dry his legs as well.

It's a very intimate position you're in. Buggy's manhood is right in front of your face. He's looking down with hooded eyes, waiting for your next move. He'll go as far as you want to go tonight.

Having him away for so long, you can't resist kissing around his pubic bone. You avoid touching his cock for now as you tease him, looking up at him innocently.

His length begins to harden as you keep brushing your lips all around his thighs and pubic area, but not where he needs to feel you most. You notice his fists clenching as he holds back from grabbing your head and placing it exactly where he wants.

Finally, your lips kiss his length, all the way from the base to the tip. That alone gets all of his blood to surge down to his cock. You continue this torturous pace for too long, teasing the tip of his cock with your tongue.

"Fuck, Princess," Buggy groans, looking into your eyes.

He's tired. He's been away for weeks. Despite wanting to fall on his bed and die for the next ten hours, his need to have you wins out. So, with the energy boost you gave him with the bath, he grabs your arm and pulls you up.

There will be time for you to suck his cock another time. Now, he needs to feel you as close as humanly possible. Buggy grabs your face and presses his lips against yours.

He kisses you deeply and sloppily, tasting your minty lip balm. He hunches over you as you lean back, overwhelmed by the sudden display of affection. Kissing him back just as fiercely as your arms wrap around his sides, pulling yourself closer.

His hand leaves your cheek to tug on the strings of your night dress and push it off your shoulders. The falling fabric tickles your skin as you're left just as exposed as he is.

Buggy grips your breasts, your sides, your thighs, and your ass. All to feel you so fucking close to him. He doesn't care if he's suffocated by you. After weeks of being tortured, all he wants is to feel your soft, caring touch.

You push Buggy back into the bed, and you tumble down with him as his hold on you is unrelenting. You won't be leaving his side tonight. Buggy sits in the center of the bed with you on his lap, grinding against his length.

"Fucking adore you," Buggy breathes, digging his head on your shoulder to leave kisses there, "and the way you take care of me."

"I'll always take care of you, Buggy," you tell him, cupping his jaw so you can look into his eyes, "You're mine. I gotta take care of what's mine, okay?"

A whine comes out of him as he nods at your words. He kisses your palm again, telling you everything you need to know. Buggy leans his forehead against yours. Something he had to get used to at the beginning due to the fact your noses also touch, but right now, it's the farthest thing on his mind. Having you close is his number one priority.

You line his cock with your entrance and slowly sink into it. You watch Buggy's face contort into one of pleasure as his mouth slightly gapes and his eyebrows furrow. You start bouncing softly, being mindful to be gentle with his aching body. Meanwhile, he grabs into your hips, helping you along, his fingers digging into you, afraid this is all a dream, and you'll go away.

There's no way this is a dream. You feel too warm and tight around him for it not to be real.

Buggy's arms encase your body as he pulls you flush against him. Chest to chest. Stomach to stomach. It doesn't matter that it makes it harder for you to move on top of him. Buggy drags his short nails down your back, relishing the heat of your skin. It's not with the intent to hurt but to feel you close.

You keep your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the roots just how he likes it. You've resorted to grinding on his lap, as that's how much movement he allows you. His eyes bore into yours, depicting so many emotions he can't begin to comprehend, much less talk about. But it's enough for the two of you.

You peck his lips and ask, "You doing okay?"

Buggy nods and whispers, "I'm doing fucking perfect." He steals a kiss and another and another. Each kiss you let him steal gets progressively longer until he has his tongue in your mouth, tasting you.

The grind of your hips is enough to bring him to the edge. With a warning to your lips, Buggy spills inside of you. He revels in the level of closeness that brings. You play with his hair as he rests his head on your chest, catching his breath.

You need not say anything. It's a moment of vulnerability, and you let him have it. Buggy is resetting and pulling himself together back to the person he usually is.

That night, you sleep naked with Buggy basically on top of you. His head rests on your chest as he falls asleep listening to your heartbeat, and you hold him all throughout the night.

Except, when you wake up, he's gone. As your senses fully wake up, you notice the boat rocking. You've already set sail. Quickly, you get ready and go out onto the deck.

"About time you woke up, Sweet Cheeks!" Buggy yells from the helm, standing by the ship's wheel. The sun beams on Buggy's face, the familiar makeup freshly painted on his face. "It's time to get to work. I have some pirates to deal with."

"Yes, Captain!" You say, which earns you a sneaky wink from Buggy. With a soft laugh, you shake your head and walk through the ship to help the freaks with whatever they might need.

With you by his side, there is nothing Buggy can't overcome.

[krizariel]

Inspired on an episode from HIMYM - because is my background noise show:

Tim hooking up with Jason thinking he is a hooker because whoever introduced them (probably OG Bernard) was playing a prank on Tim for being a prude/too puritan and is not like Tim had much time to find a date for the wedding he had to go to. He is still friends with his ex but it hasn't been that long since the break-up and its awkward and now they have to go to the same wedding since they are within the same group of friends.

Bernard: You should totally bring a date

Tim: what? who am I gonna bring? I'm too busy as it is and I'm not going to bring a random guy from grindr

Bernard: Eh, just bring an escort

Tim: I'm not THAT desperate.

Bernard: Pfft, what's the big deal, no strings attached, get to show everyone you are doing just fine, no one has to know, you leave with your dignity AND a good time

Tim: You cannot be serious.

Bernard: Oh I'm so serious. What, Tim Drake can't hook up with a hooker now?

Tim: Just no, and seriously shut up. I'll see if I can find someone and I have nothing to prove I don't care to make Steph jealous. Plus I'm sure she won't bring a date.

Wedding comes, Tim shows up and Bernard is with his date and another very handsome man.

Tim pulls Bernard to the side because what?!

Tim: Who is that?

Bernard: Oh, you know, found you a date *wink*, thank me later.

Tim: With a hooker!?

Bernard: What, too handsome to be a hooker uh? No one would ever suspect anything

Tim: That's beside the point! I had said no-

Bernard: Geez, give it a try no one said to sleep or do anything with him? He is just a companion tonight, whatever else happens is up to you

Tim: I know that! But-

Steph: You guys ok there?

Steph and her date had joined Jason and Ariana (Bernard's date) and they had come looking for Bernard and Tim.

Jason: Hey, you are way cuter than described.

And he winked at Tim. He was way too handsome, towering the whole group.

Tim at first is kind of forced to go along but it would be awkward to reject Jason since he was already there, and it was not his fault plus damn he looked stunning. They hit it off just fine, in fact it was great, Jay was a total nerd, they spent most of the night talking, drinking and flirting, and Tim started to feel all giddy and more emboldened to just flirt back. Is not like he will see him again right?

The event was at a hotel and they were going to leave their own ways. At first Tim was reluctant because well, he has never done this before and maybe this is going to be really expensive but… what the hell, he hasn't been with anyone for some time and he really finds he likes Jason even if he is a hooker and might not actually like Tim. So he invited Jason to his room to which Jason just said: Was starting to think you were not going to ask. That would have been no fun.

They hook up, sex is amazing, 100/10 would do it again … , and Tim leaves a few $100 bills by the table and just leaves a note with his number saying call me. Tim thinks well… at least maybe this way he knows Tim is still interested to see him again. Tim feels crazy because what has his life come to… and no, is not like this will be a Pretty Woman kind of plot, Jason probably has other people to see and WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM!? He will totally not tell anyone about this and certainly won't tell Bernard how did it go.

Well, Jason never calls him, Tim doesn't have his number, so he can't call him. Not long afterwards Tim has an accident on his bike, the paramedics come get him and Tim sees Jason there. At first Tim thinks maybe he is hallucinating because he totally has a concussion but-

Tim: Jason? what are you doing here?!

Jason: My job?? Didn't Bernard tell you I was a paramedic?

Tim: WHAT? AREN'T YOU A HOOKER!?!?

Jason: What.

Jason has half the mind to not punch Tim because he is having flashbacks of having such an amazing time with this rich kid that seemed nothing like the rest but then he wakes up alone and with money by the bed table. So insulting.

Jason: I'm a fucking PARAMEDIC… now shut the fuck up before I fucking make your injuries worse and lose my license.

Anyway, they clear things up (and Tim cant look at any of the nurses in the eye because they start giggling). Bernard, Ariana and Jason work at the same hospital and Ariana and Jason are good friends. Bernard invited Jason with them, telling him he had a good friend of his who is really cute but pretty lonely and can't find a date since he barely has any time to get himself out there. Jason shot him down at first with thanks but no thanks, but Ariana (Bernard's gf) told him Tim is actually really nice. Since Jason didn't have any plans he ended up accepting.

Jason: So you slept with me…thinking I was a hooker?!

Tim: …. Listen I wasn't going to do any of it, I swear but you were so funny, witty, smart, loved talking to you and in just a few hours I found I really was starting to like you, you were amazing… and didn't matter what you did for a living. I genuinely wanted to see you again and now I'm babbling and not making any sense I'm sorry-

Jason: The fuck is wrong with ya?… after another string of curses

Tim: I- … I'm sorry, I know this is a mess and I understand if you don't want to see me again-

Jason: No, I was talking to myself because for whatever reason I find ya oddly sweet.

Jason: But first, I'm going to do something for myself and slash Bernard's bike tires :)

Tim: Oh, can I join you?

Jason: Sure. It's a date Timbit ;)

[corazon-calaveras]

The Crow Reboot Rant

NAH NAH NAH, WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO MAKE ERIC DRAVEN LOOK LIKE A DISCOUNT VERSION OF JARED LETTO'S JOKER?!? IMMA THROW HANDS!!! 💀🔪

There's just so much wrong about this reboot and as a fan of the original crow movie and graphic novel I cannot even begin to express how much this disappoints me.

More to rant ahead, just know it's hella long.

I recently saw and heard more news about the crow reboot and upon seeing what to expect I no longer have any interest in watching the reboot, in fact I wish the fans continue to roast the hell out of it to show the people in charge of this reboot that this is NOT what the people want or need.

Now I just want to go on and say that I have no problems with Bill Skarsgard as Eric Draven. I think he's a hella great actor with lots of potential of doing a great job at being the next crow actor, but my issue is with the writers and the people who made the overall decision to make this cult classic "appeal to modern audiences" which that quote alone was enough for me to completely abandon all hope of this movie being any good. I was already skeptical enough about the reboot and my expectations were low but THIS...this definitely made my expectations drop even lower than they already were and that's surprising to me. Honestly at this point the three crow sequels were a lot better and that's saying a lot because if y'all have seen those you'll know they weren't that good either but at least they were entertaining. 😭 (In my opinion at least, feel free to disagree on that).

It gets even better when you find out that the inspiration for reboot crow was Post Malone and Lil Peep. 💀

Like...is that what appeals to modern audiences nowadays? Was that really necessary for modern day Eric Draven? Absolutely not! The original movie and comic took place in the 90's so LEAVE IT IN THE 90's! Not everything has to be modernized for the sake of appealing to modern audiences. What modern audiences need right now are original stories with good and compelling writing (which probably won't happen any time soon since Hollywood proved to be in the middle of an imagination drought).

Sure, one can argue that the original movie wasn't completely faithful to the source material, that being the graphic novel. However, Due to the unfortunate passing of Brandon Lee during the making of the film, James O 'Barr has stated that he had finished the film as a tribute to Brandon who was a sweet and caring man and so decided to write Eric Draven to have some resemblance to Brandon in the film as a way to honor him. With that in mind, it's no wonder people are much harsher about the reboot, myself included, and find that this reboot would be an insult to not only James O 'Barr but also to Brandon. (Those who know the tragic history of The Crow graphic novel would understand why that's the case but in short it was a way for James to deal with grief).

In my opinion, the original crow film does not need a reboot or a remake. It may not be the best or perfect movie in the world but it is a cult classic and is one of the most beloved movies that holds a dear place in people's hearts. Mine included. Which is why instead of making another movie based on Brandon Lee's crow, that the other crow characters get a shot at the big screen since Eric Draven isn't the only one who gets brought back to life by a crow. I can understand how this might potentially not gain enough traction because it's not the iconic Eric Draven, but I do believe that with good writing and loyalty to the source materials, that it can be very possible to make a good and fresh crow movie without piggy backing off of an already beloved and successful film with the help of the fans who most likely have read the other comics.

In my opinion, I don't think this reboot is worth anyone's time (at least for those who are hardcore fans of the Crow franchise) and I have no hope for this whatsoever. In fact, I'm gonna go rewatch the original movie for the millionth time and reread the original graphic novel because I've already accepted the fact that any potential of getting a good crow movie is officially out the window. Not only that but the book and film are my comfort watch and reads so there's that.

For anyone who wants to hear more details about the reboot I recommend looking up articles or watch videos about it on youtube since that's where I heard the majority of the news.

Brandon Lee will forever be the best Eric Draven out there, may he rest in peace.

[imagine--if]

banda protecting quiet reader during jack of hearts?

A/N: This was the second most voted after Chishiya, so ya, enjoy 😁 I did some headcanons because I felt like an imagine would be too long and complicated haha 🖤 also there's a bit of Chishiya x reader near the end 😏

♡ Banda Being Protective Includes... ♡

💜• Banda probably noticed you being your quiet self, once everyone's gathered together and he's assessing the players around him in his head. Like, the Jack intrigued him since he already had an air of superiority and independence about him, and Banda picks up on those things about a person with mild interest as he waits to see what they'll do and if they're worth his time. So when he sees you watching everyone starts to exclaim at the game's strange rules and how they could be trapped in it forever, and then you just sitting quietly by yourself, his grey-blue gaze lingers, and he stalks over to you.

💜• We know what he's like at this point - basically antagonising the person with some backhanded compliment that could be considered an insult, before he follows it up with an offer of alliance or friendship. So with you, you'll get something like, "Being this quiet will only make people want to kill you more. They'll think you're up to something." And as you stare at him uneasily, his serious expression suddenly morphs into a smirk, as he comments, "I hope you are. I'll help."

💜• Yeah, he's an odd guy 😅 but at least you're not one of his targets or anything. For the first couple of rounds, he won't do much in terms of communication and protection, not just yet. Banda wants to see if you can survive on your own, if you're smart enough. And when it's proved that you are, it only makes you more of a pretty curiosity, and that's when he'll start shadowing you and speaking for you when you don't want to.

💜• It's a little similar to that woman who Jack secretly communicated with and the other psycho if you know what I mean 😂 but less servant-master vibes, and more partner vibes. For example, if someone's asking you too many questions, or if the bouncy manipulator girl tries getting into your head with a sweet smile, he'll make a remark from sitting behind you or something. One remark, but its what he says and the way he says it that's all they need to get the picture and back up with a confused and uncomfortable look on their face.

💜• Banda's way of protecting you comes through telling you the truth about what card symbol is on your collar, basically following you around wherever you go, speaking for you when you prefer to stay silent and simply look, and whispering things to you for you to whisper back in your naturally hushed tone when its something private or important about the game.

💜• I'm gonna throw in some Chishiya here because I can't help it 😉 you'll come to realise that Banda's protective nature over a mysteriously quiet and observant person can be borderline possessive when the game's drawing to a close and he's become more attached and obsessive. So, when there are only a few of you left, and Chishiya's lost his partner, naturally coming over to you to try to convince you not to ally yourself with Banda because he's a murderer... 😵

💜• Suddenly Banda himself steps from behind you with a dangerous glint in his eyes you've never seen before, and whispers something in Chishiya's ear that you can't hear. When Banda pulls away with a self-satisfied smirk, and takes your hand to pull you away, Chishiya's left watching after him blankly, his usually amused features slightly caught off guard by whatever threat Banda breathed into his ear. It doesn't stop Chishiya from trying to figure you out though - if anything, it intreguies him, though he'll be more sneaky in the ways he does it so as not to catch Banda's attention.

💜• If you ask Banda what he said, he'll only shrug and give you a half-smile, tracing a finger down your cheek to hook impossibly softly under your chin with "Don't you like me protecting you, baby?"

💜• And you're just like 😶

💜• So when the game finishes, and Banda and the other guy go after Jack, Banda manages to get a hold of some sort of tracker and makes you keep it on you. "I've got some things to do for us," he'll tell you with a casual smile, "but I'll come back from you. I'll be watching. Always. Can't let anything happen to this pretty face, can I?"

💜• And he won't. But meanwhile, Chshiya's observing the scene hidden behind a wall somehwere in interest.

okay maybe i should follow this storyline up with an imagine now cus im loving it bahaha

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #6

It's time to read PKNA #3: Day of the Cold Sun! Yippee woohoo yahoo this is a good one!!! Also the last one that got printed in English :(

Genuinely what the fuck is he wearing here. How to look inconspicuous step 1: dress in bright neon green. Step 2: wear some kind of weird top hat jester combo??? A top hat with little dangly bells on it??? Like yeah Raider SHOULD be arrested just for putting this fit together. I don't know who your tailor is but I suggest you sue.

Camera 9 finally gets the recognition he deserves, he's been carrying this entire series as far as I'm concerned. Way to go little dude!

NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NEVERMIND 💀 I HATE IT HERE

I love angry fucked up robo strength Lyla, defend him he's done nothing wrong!!! EVEN THO YOU WIPED HIS FUCKING FOOTAGE-

TWO ANGUS FANGUS????? MY NIGHTMARES ARE COMING TRUE

Did he just pull up at her apartment window 😭 He knows where she lives????

clucklehead.... I'm really gonna miss these goofy ass insults from the official translation

cop moment 💀💀💀

Raider I'm literally begging you to ditch Fangus in the neolithic period, you'd be doing us all a huge favor

oh. that's PROBABLY not good- Also somebody please buy Donald some brown contacts I'm literally begging

2017? I thought it was the 90s... actually you know what ELSE takes place in 2017? Have you heard of Disney's Duckta-

Fuck... she saw through our master plan of stuffing Donald in a duffel bag and putting on a Spirit Halloween mask

I have no idea who this reporter is but she ate and left no crumbs. kinda gagged tbh

The way Camera 9 is just watching from the corner 😭

AND CAMERA 9 STAY WINNING BITCH 💯 THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

I think this chapter is excellent, my only complaint is that it has quite a few twists and turns and can be kinda confusing on first read. I had a GREAT time reading through it again though, it's an incredibly interesting story. I do feel bad for Lyla about being kept in the dark by the time police, who were gonna fucking SCRAP HER which is just mean. Also shoutout to the Raider for going to time jail AGAIN, I'm sure he'll definitely stay locked up this time guys! He's not going anywhere I promise!!!

This is also my open letter to IDW to please please continue printing these comics in English. The people weren't ready in 2016 but they're ready now, I swear. I'll buy 10,000 copies if I have to. We can start a campaign you guys, I believe in the power of me and the like 20 other American PK fans on here. WE HAVE TO AT LEAST GET THEM TO PRINT THE NEXT ISSUE MAN IT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES-

Anyways, see you guys next week when we read Earthquake which I'll be super normal about. Buhbye!

[satans-my-spirit-animal]

They get into a fist fight

Heartslabyul edition

I did these head cannons for fun so don't take them too seriously

Warning: sexual harassment and bullying mentioned(not by the main characters)

Riddle

So this already kinda happened in game but let's say this was a separate incident. Someone dared insult you in his presence and he wasn't gonna let that fly.

"You will apologize immediately or I will have to collar you!"

"You only collar people because you can't throw a punch." - Savanaclaw student

Riddle gets red in the face and nails him square in the jaw. Surprise works in his favor since he wasn't expecting it, causing him to stagger back a few steps.

However after that, let's be honest homeboy is getting roughed up. He has zero street skills.

Ace, Deuce and Trey come to help him and they ask why he didn't just collar the guy

Riddle gets embarrassed as Trey tends to his wounds (top tier mom friend) and says that he wanted to defend your honor without resorting to magic

Trey

So it'd take A LOT for Trey to get physical with someone. He is very even tempered and is the one to usually settle disagreements within the dorm. But he does have a breaking point and that point is reached when he notices another student constantly harassing you. The student makes lewd comments and even tries to touch you. Trey sees red and storms over.

Trey grabs the student roughly. "They said they're not interested. Leave. Now."

The other student shakes him off. "How about you mind your own business?!" And a fight ensues.

Trey actually kicks the guys ass, no magic needed. The other student is left to slink away in defeat.

Trey apologizes profusely and makes sure you're ok. "I'm sorry you had to see that y/n."

Cater

Like Trey, it would take a lot for Cater to get in a fight. He's a lover not a fighter and prefers to charm his way out situations. However he notices that a group of guys are bullying you and even smash your phone.

"Hey WTF is your problem?!" Cater runs to your defense and gets between you and the bullies. He uses his doubles to even the numbers.

The bullies aren't fazed by his doubles and continue their assault.

Cater and his doubles manage to fight them off, but just barely. However in the fight you do wack one of the bullies over the head with a large stick and are very proud of this. Teamwork makes the dream work. Cater looks a little rough at the end of it.

"you ok hon? Things got a little hairy there... We'll go get you a new phone tomorrow."

Ace

This situation literally happens in game so cannon that Ace will throw hands for you. Anyway let's not pretend like Ace doesn't get into some sort of fight at least once a week because he makes smart ass comments. But this time he overhears some other Heartslabyul students talking about you behind your back.

He immediately confronts them and tells them that they're wrong and that they should shut the hell up.

"who even invited you into this conversation? " And a straight up brawl breaks out in the Heartslabyul lounge.

Ace is a pretty good fighter and gets several good punches in before Riddle shows up and collars everyone.

When Ace tells him what started the fight Riddle lets him off lightly while the other students get slammed with triple chores.

Deuce

Like Ace it's pretty cannon that Deuce will fight for you. He is experienced in street fights and though he tries to avoid violence nowadays he still will jump into action if needed. Like when he sees a Savanaclaw student push you out of the lunch line.

He demands they apologize at once but when they refuse he flies off the handle and punches them in the mouth.

This starts a whole lunch room brawl which of course draws over Riddle.

Deuce actually holds his ground by himself pretty well due to past experience but he does feel slightly guilty that he didn't handle the situation better. Still the Savanaclaw student 100% deserved it.

After hearing the cause of the fight and seeing that Deuce is remorseful, Riddle lets him off lightly. Extra flamingo duty.

"I'm sorry I just can't stand to see you treated like that." Deuce says to you afterward

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

A Long Rant About The Koffin Trio

Note: So, this is my first (really) long post about this fangame, and to be honest, I was debating whether or not to even publish it. I still decided to do it since not a lot of folks talk about ts!underswap, and I wanted to give my two cents regarding my three favorite characters.

More important note: If you think it's gonna trigger you to read about Harry/Larry and Harry/Larry/KK as a found family, better click off this post. Maybe it's my inner aroace speaking, but I personally don't see the romantic appeal at all. Good for you if you do! I'm not trying to invalidate anyone's opinion; diversity is great after all :)

For those of you who are still here, I will start off by saying this:

Harry and Larry depend on Count Koffin-K for so much. I'm tempted to say EVERYTHING.

He genuinely feels like their father figure. I mean, this sentient fedora gave them a job while they were both living lives that were... bad.

He isn't cruel when they do something stupid and instead just looks deadpan. Sure, Koffin-K's not a perfect boss; he yells at the two of them and insults them (dude really needs to work on his temper), but I found it sweet how both Harry and Larry felt safe enough to tell him the truth here, which to me counts for something (pun intended) ↓

He even pranks them sometimes ↓

Koffin may not be perfect (he's gotta keep up the "evil" persona) but at least he 1) tries to give Harry and Larry a hint that he cares for them (has them both secretly do his laundry without them telling each other) 2) actually admits that he cares for them both equally (in his own way) 3) attempts to solve their disagreement despite him not gaining anything out of it

How they met is also interesting to me.

Based on their backstory, Harry and Larry were clearly hesitant to work for Koffin, but when they actually started the job the next day, I imagine that their conversation went something like this (either during the first day or at some point early on in their career):

H: "Larry, he could be like the dad we never had and provide for us and we could have all da money that we never did, see?"

L: "Huhuhu, yeah! Don't forgets da food!"

...and that's how the parade float came to be. I think Koffin secretly appreciates they made it, even though he says how he wanted the thing "as far away as possible" right after saying this line ↓

He also makes this face later on at the festival when he sees the float again cause it reminds him that the three of them are a family despite Harry and Larry getting on his nerves half the time but I can't include the screenshot bc of the picture limit

Heck, the two even built their house outside the keep, which to me suggests that they don’t ever plan on leaving Koffin.

Harry does mention his mother, and we learn that he's into embroidery (both making me think he's a a 'mama's boy'; maybe she taught him how to embroider)...

...but even on the ts!us wiki, the only relationship dynamic the two have is with Koffin-K himself.

Weirdly enough, we only know that Harry has a mom, but not a dad

Even though he was definitely unaware of this, Koffin liked Harry and Larry FOR BEING THEMSELVES. This is really important to me.

He saw something in them that others did not, even if it was initally just "your names rhyme and you give me the 'goofy henchmen' vibe." He sees them both as useful for what he needs them for. It may not be much, but it's exactly what Koffin's looking for.

In other words:

THE WAY HARRY AND LARRY ARE IS ENOUGH FOR COUNT KOFFIN-K. I mean, why look at resumes of competent potential employees when you can hire two idiots who are just as goofy as you

Exactly why Harry and Larry are so loyal to Koffin-K is unknown, but based on my interpretation, it has to do with 1) them desperately needing a father figure/someone to rely on 2) Koffin giving Harry and Larry a home, food, money, and a job that also allows them to slack off and finally enjoy life, and 3) him making them feel needed. Maybe not appreciated, even though he subtly tried to, but definitely needed. Serving under him became their purpose.

In other words, I think they're so loyal because Koffin "chose" them, even if he did that subconsciously.

Harry got the chance to be more than just a janitor. Imo, he was hesitant to work for Koffin at first because he was afraid that he would lose the only sense of security he had. I think he lived with his mom at the time, considering his low-wage job This explains why he wants to be rich (to make up for all the things he couldn't afford).

It also explains why Larry loves food so much (he literally slept under a dumpster bag and if he was both homeless AND unemployed, it would mean that he had to either be a beggar or eat from the trash. Either way, eating good food was out of the question.

It's also possible that Larry had a janitor job just like Harry (but unlike him, nowhere to live). I say that he might have been a janitor, since Koffin mentions how they could both do better than mopping floors forever, but maybe it was just an assumption on Koffin's side.

Whatever the case, their lives sucked.

There was also this one moment I wanna talk about, where Larry called Koffin-K stupid, and Harry pretty much agreed. So I asked myself why they reacted this way.

Maybe because it was easier to convince themselves that they didn't care about their boss than deal with the fact that he (maybe) always saw them as nothing but 'lowly servants'.

Seriously, Harry said out loud what they both wanted most of all. And that something was for Koffin-K to value them. This was more important to them than money and food COMBINED, considering their entire arc was about learning that Koffin needed them both equally

Maybe they were worried about getting fired, but I honestly don't think Koffin ever wanted to do that to them, no matter how many times they messed up.

Maybe they didn't want to be honest and admit to Koffin that he's a total dumbass so they wouldn't get in trouble with him. I mean, they did want to gain his validation/appreciation/approval/love, so it makes sense that they would do anything to get and remain in his good books.

I think the third scenario is the most likely one, tbh.

Might be a nitpick, but notice how Harry and Larry are walking next to each other here, but Koffin-K's at the back, just sorta... isolated, like he's not their equal? This is why I'd rather see him as their father figure than an older brother. The way I look at it, the oldest sibling is usually in charge, yeah, but there's still a level of closeness and familiarity between the siblings, whereas Harry and Larry hardly know anything about Koffin-K, ESPECIALLY how lonely he really is. Koffin's the one who gave them a purpose, became their boss, and as a result, they began looking up to him. In contrast, the two spend 24/7 together, bicker, and are practically inseparable, like brothers

Larry also explains how Koffin-K doesn't like leaving his study, but clearly neither Harry nor Larry reflected on why that is and just assumed it's because Koffin's 'stupid.' This reaction kinda rubbed me the wrong way at first, but then I remembered both of these dudes are street rats who don't know any better.

Look, I know the Boogiemen were supposed to fit this common "goofy villain's sidekicks" trope, but both of them clearly grew up in poor conditions, have daddy issues (imo), and feel worthless/useless.

That's why they want Koffin-K's attention so badly.

They need a father figure to reassure them that they're useful, important, and loved.

All this makes them three-dimensional and relatable, just like most UT/DR/UTY characters. It feels like everyone in these games goes through some kind of deep arc, and I feel like this is supposed to be the Boogiemen's

Sure, Harry and Larry are funny at first glance, and they're great at being comic reliefs, but at their core, they are misguided guys who come from poverty/homelessness. I kinda wish the feisty four from uty had more going for them just so I could psychoanalyze them all

Even though it's probably been a few years since they joined Koffin, at least some part of Harry and Larry doesn't seem to believe that they can finally enjoy themselves, even if it means doing hooligan stuff and boring chores. That's why they're 'superficial' and goof off and will grab any opportunity to act childish and materialistic.

A typical case of age regression

What lies beyond the surface is incredibly sad to me.

Now, this is sort of like a bonus section bc I want to explain WHY exactly I see Harry & Larry as brothers, and WHY I think they see Koffin as a dad again, maybe it's bc I'm aroace and I see family relationships everywhere, but the stuff below REALLY REALLY reminds me of these types of dynamics:

They threw insults at each other and had a literal fistfight over which one of them Koffin appreciated/liked more

They cried HARD (of joy) when Koffin told them they're both equally useful and useless, so they no longer had to be at each other's throats. He also said how he recognized that they're passionate about being his lackeys, even if their teamwork needed, well, work

I think it's sweet how they built the float 'within their first days of henchmenry,' according to KK. They could have easily NOT included him, but had apparently warmed up to him pretty soon

Harry wanted to call Koffin to save them + I love how he's CERTAIN he'll do it

Both yelled for Koffin (reminds me of Axis calling out for Chujin for some reason)

Larry called Koffin Keep their home (could have easily said that they left it at the keep...reminds me of the times Starlo called The Wild East Clover's home I really need to stop with the uty parallels)

They cheered for him (and got hit in the face with books)

They get in trouble with him

They apparently copied two of his attacks these 3 are so similar except that Koffin is a more 'head in the clouds' kind of goofy while Harry & Larry are more grounded... but still goofy

And this line... "And quit arguing, you two!" sounded so parental, istg

I forgot to mention some stuff:

After Koffin tells everyone to go to the festival, Harry and Larry quickly look left and right, like they're wondering where he is and/or what to do now that he isn't there. Poor guys really are dependent on him and like to be in his presence

They talked about Koffin a LOT throughout this game. Their conversations are either about 1) Koffin and what they're gonna do to please him, 2) Them bickering, or 3) Some shenanigans they get themselves into. Larry even remembers how Koffin-K always says: "If you're slacking, put some hustle into it"

Koffin doesn't treat any other lackey the way he does Harry and Larry, and none of the other lackeys seek his admiration like the two do

Harry and Larry were both jealous af of Chara for getting all the attention (right after they got into Koffin's study Harry said "Now whaddya need us in here for, see?" and I immediately thought that he wanted to add "you have a new favorite child lacky now so why don't assign more chores TO THEM")

Like I'm not sure if they were meant to come across to us players as a family but for some reason that's how they came across to me since day 1

The actual reason why I see them in this light is not just bc I love found family (even tho I do. a lot), but bc I feel like it would give Harry & Larry more depth than a romance between any of them

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @wabatle request: omg wowie requests are open!!

i know we were talking about the ddlc girls, so if you feel like it, you should just write about whatever random dating hcs you have!

no pressure, obviously, so take care and DRINK WATER ♡♡♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah!! Omg I love the free hand I'm getting here >w<

Anyway, I tried my best to do lil nice dating hcs but we'll see if it's actually good! Hopefully you'll like it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ gf!Sayori who wakes up early just to make sure she'll get to walk with you to school

✧ gf!Sayori who rambles to other literature club members about you, they thought you two were dating even before you did

✧ gf!Sayori who's friends always know every smallest and cutest detail due to her rambling so much

✧ gf!Sayori who eventually stops hiding her depression from you

✧ gf!Sayori who sees you as her only comfort space and let's herself show her true feelings around you

✧ gf!Sayori who openly admits you're her reason to wake up during romantic moments, and shows you how much she's glad to have you by her side

✧ gf!Sayori who goes on playground dates with you despite the age

✧ gf!Sayori who's still childish and genuinely get's distracted sometimes whenever she spends time with you

✧ gf!Sayori who's gonna get way too quiet when someone starts flirting with you

✧ gf!Sayori who can only be calmed from jealousy and insecurity by you spoiling her with affections~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@hayillaaaaaaa - come get your hungry sleepyhead!

✧ gf!Yuri who opens up only when you two are alone

✧ gf!Yuri who turns into such a rambler when she's around you, other people have hard time believing it's her when you tell them about it

✧ gf!Yuri who recommends you books with little notes

✧ gf!Yuri who doesn't need you telling her when you're done reading a page, because she already got your peace remembered and always flips a page in the perfect moment

✧ gf!Yuri who often finds you a bit more interesting to look at than the book

✧ gf!Yuri who'll turn into tomato whenever you catch her staring, shakily replying you just had some dust on your face (spoiler: you didn't)

✧ gf!Yuri who sometimes will leave little notes in books she borrows you to make your day and show her love

✧ gf!Yuri who finds letters and small poems easier way of telling you she loves you

✧ gf!Yuri who's gonna bluntly tell the person flirting with you to get the heck away, not holding back for once and you can't believe it's still the same girl...

✧ gf!Yuri who'll get all shy when you remember her about how she acts when she's jealous

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@hayillaaaaaaa - come get your shy bookworm~

✧ gf!Natsuki who slows down her temper just for you and your comfort

✧ gf!Natsuki who usually has sleepovers at your place

✧ gf!Natsuki who bakes your favorite sweets at least every week because she loves hearing all the compliments and seeing your smile

✧ gf!Natsuki who's never gonna admit it, but she actually spends more time on baking when she knows you're gonna be trying what she makes

✧ gf!Natsuki who either gets you into manga or shows you the best ones you ever read!

✧ gf!Natsuki who shows you she can indeed write romantic poems, even if they're a bit silly at first

✧ gf!Natsuki who will never yell or insult you seriously

✧ gf!Natsuki who'll turn into softie and comfort you when she sees she accidentally hurt you with her sarcasm

✧ gf!Natsuki who's ready to insult anyone who has the guts to flirt with you, and she makes sure that they leave first

✧ gf!Natsuki who'll talk shit about the girl that just flirted with you

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@hayillaaaaaaa - come get your tsundere!

✧ gf!Monika who writes you many songs about how she feels about you

✧ gf!Monika who always takes pictures of you two on your dates

✧ gf!Monika who's like your mom when it comes to caring about your health

✧ gf!Monika who gives you new poem around every 3-5 dates because she just loves them too much to not express it

✧ gf!Monika who's affections are always silent but hard to miss

✧ gf!Monika who loves surprising you with poetic love lines in the middle of your date

✧ gf!Monika who remembers small habits of yours and your preferences

✧ gf!Monika who sometimes steals glances at you, especially in Literature Club

✧ gf!Monika who'll wave at you with small smile whenever you catch her staring

✧ gf!Monika who'll stare daggers at any girl that approaches you and you'll never know if she's really planning something or just a great actor...

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@hayillaaaaaaa - come get your perfect pianist~

[harrowharkwife]

for the character meme: dulcie or cam or pal or a character of ur choosing!!! hehe

!!!!! ty lem!! im gonna do my girl dulcie...

favorite thing about them: honestly just the way she's written- it never fails to make me emotional that she *is* explicitly written as being brave and strong, but tamsyn neatly sidesteps the "inspiration porn" ableist stereotype of writing a character as being brave/strong *because* they are sick. dulcie isn't brave or strong because of her illness. her strength and bravery are explicitly positioned, IMO, as being in response to surviving *ableism* and other people's condescension towards her and mistreatment of her, rather than surviving her illness itself, if that makes sense. her health is just a fact of her life, it's not moralized. which i really, really appreciate. it's a small shift, but it's very meaningful to me.

ALSO deeply special to me: her intentional and careful commitment to boundaries re: The Palamedes Of It All. a refreshing change of pace, as far as these books go vgjtjxdjt

least favorite thing about them: i mean. houser. :/

favorite line: three way tie between "truly, wonderful news for my haters," "i am sick of roses and horny for revenge," and "oops, there i go again, never doing what i'm told"

brOTP: gideon!!!!! i think it's a crying shame they've never met. i think they'd get along tremendously. the whole cytherea gideon thing was Horrid and Awful in so many ways, but it always Extra stings (in an adding-insult-to-injury sort of way) when i think about what it would have been like if gideon had REALLY met dulcinea, and not cyth. dulcie would've been a great friend for her, i think. they'd have been so good at making each other laugh

OTP: honestly these days it's cam? @ palamedes ily but get outta here gayboy it's yuri time now. plus i just love chewing on the concept of cam + comphet, and cam + subconscious internalized misogyny, and cam + gender, and cam + her relationships and interactions with other women. i think there's lots to explore there. camdulcie has a certain "when i was eight i didn't realize i had a crush on the new girl in my grade so i just wrote her a note that said 'get out of my school'" energy about it, To Me

nOTP: idk if i really have one for her, specifically? idk. ianthe or something, fuck it.

random headcanon: stoner. on all levels except physical she is taking fuckall huge bong rips. on the physical level though her lungs suck so i think she'd be a tincture girlie. she's got chronic pain she deserves it. am i projecting? you tell me

unpopular opinion: idk if this is an unpopular opinion exactly, but i always see people referring to thee rejected proposal as being something born primarily out of love/out of romantic intent? and i don't know if that's necessarily how i see it. it was CERTAINLY, and obviously, a factor. but at least from my interpretation of pal's monologue to cytherea at the end there, i get the sense that he had already accepted her boundaries in that regard, because he says he "understood that he was a child." and we also get camilla saying that his motivations in proposing were primarily a means-to-an-end way of getting her off the seventh and letting her die with dignity. iirc her exact words were like "so she could spend what time she had left with people who cared about her." like, don't get me wrong, i think pal is lying to himself if he says that being in love with dulcie wasn't PART of the motivation there. but i find it a lot more interesting in a worldbuilding and social commentary way to interpret the circumstances there as him offering, essentially, to be a hospice doctor at age 19, and marriage being the 'easiest' way to get her off the seventh/planet medical malpractice. there's an imperial misogyny ownership-through-marriage throughline there that's nauseating, as well as the implications re: disability and agency and autonomy, and i think that's all very interesting to explore. i think this view is supported in part by the paldulcie interaction in TUG, where she alludes to the idea that she was cognizant about the impact that bearing witness to death and loss up-close and personal like that changes a person, and that she didn't want to do that to pal and cam, especially given their age. i think it informa dulcie's character and grants her additional narrative agency to look at things from that angle, of her "no" being in reference to *both* the age gap AND her intentional choice to continue suffering on the seventh, rather than put two kids through being hospice caregivers and/or widowers at nineteen– no matter how many times and how sincerely they kept offering, no matter that she would've absolutely had a more peaceful and comfortable end-of-life HAD she accepted his proposal and gone to the sixth to die. i think it says a lot about her as a person, that choice. there's a quiet and meaningful responsibility to her as a person that i find fascinating. and her character is just sooooo firmly rooted in and informed by disability politics, on every level, and i feel like people don't engage with that aspect of her characterization enough!

song i associate with them: ooooh SO many, i have a whole playlist. but i think the biggest ones are

-the drama by kesha ("friday night, get too high, keep checking my pulse, am i dead yet?" / "in the next life i wanna come back, as a housecat as a housecat! i'd sleep and play in the sun, i'd be a fuckin' cute son of a gun!")

-avant gardener by courtney barnett (the whole song really, but especially the lines "the paramedic thinks i'm clever cause i play guitar, i think she's clever cause she stops people dyin'," and "i take a hit off an asthma puffer, i do it wrong, i was never good at smokin' bongs." i just think she'd love this song.)

-honorable mentions include stoned at the nail salon by lorde, life according to raechel by madison cunningham, rose-colored boy by paramore (@ palamedes, lmfao), picture me better by weyes blood, extraordinary machine by fiona apple, rubberband girl by kate bush, last words of a shooting star by mitski.

favorite picture of them: oh man well it obviously has to be my icon... art made for me by the lovely @franzias-cave !!!! based on the concept of "the woman is dying, please do her the decency of allowing her to look the part in fanart." my girl... she's a malign fairy, she's a hot-eyed wraith <3

ty lem this was so fun! i love my gworl :')