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#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?
nostalgia-tblr · 1 year
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I had another fic idea and the brain was like "no, that's too fluffy and romantic and YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE NICE THINGS, PEOPLE WOULD JUDGE YOU" but then I went "but what if it was kind of... comedy fluff?" and brain went "...yeah, okay, if you really must." Which I fucking HATE! Why can't I write nice things, brain?! Everyone else is allowed to! FFS, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be ~deep~ or any of that shit!
This has actually been a bit of an issue when I'm trying to write The WIP because while I told myself yeah sure go ahead and write the massively self-indulgent epically long (by my own odd standards) fic but still sometimes I get stuck because I'm not "allowed" to write something that appeals to me and my own sometimes niche interests??
Like angst I can do because that's "proper" somehow? WTF is that about? It's not proper! It's still daft! And comedy I'm allowed because I dunno apparently if it will make someone laugh that means it has "value"? It's very annoying, I don't like it.
Do other people have this? How do you deal with it? You'd think after all this time I'd be okay with writing any old shit that I want to. If anything it might be worse now. I remember years ago I could tell myself "Look, if you've spelled most of it correctly then it's already in like the better half of all the fanfic on the internet" which isn't really TRUE but I could go along with that and let myself write whatever-the-fuck I wanted to.
You know how many of us go "I'll write this fucked up thing... but I'll post it as Anon"? I get that with fluffy fic ideas as well. Or with things that are "too shippy" (WTF?) It's just such a stupid and weird form of self-criticism and it bothers me a lot.
#ranting at myself#writing stuff#possibly this is a mental illness thing but i don't think it is but it might be?#i am Quite Mad but it usually manifests related to fic as the usual “you suck!!” or irritating OCD things about wordcounts or such#this is a VERY SPECIFIC thing and i don't even know where it came from?#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?#(the fluffy thing was sylki fic where spinning off on the 'oh no unable to express feelings!' they have to pass each other notes)#(the comedy element was that this is Bloody Stupid and also Mobius attempts to Help (oh no) and etc)#(will i ever be able/“allowed” to actually write that thing? dunno!)#the Frigga thing also suffers from “that bit is despicably adorable you should be ASHAMED of yourself”#.The WIP? currently stuck at “okay now he needs to Hold The Baby. this is an important bit you can't skip it. but babies are Too Twee”#“so you may NOT just write someone Holding The Baby because that's like something people might actually want to read!”#“the murders are fine you can write murders. murder isn't twee. babies are VERY twee though.”#PROBLEM: there are several babies in this fic and the next chapter is like... ENTIRELY baby-based#(the end of the entire fic is already written and it's Too Twee as well but i've kind of gone immune to that because it's existed a while)#(oh no did i just spoiler a Happy Ending?!)#(SPOILER: kind of. it depends who you backed in this race and whether you wanted them to Become Better People)#anyway am gonna post this now before i change my mind as i probably should#fic related
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thepenultimateword · 1 month
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Sugar and Spice Part Two
Part One
“You’re kidding me." Villain slapped her forehead, dragging the hand slowly down her face. "Of all the thousands of henchmen I could've picked, of all the dozens of departments, I chose a culinary minion? I might as well have brought a rolling pin! Or a donut."
Villain frowned. A whole host of arguments sat on his tongue. She might have realized his department sooner if she had taken a moment to talk instead of ordering him around like a dog. Also, she'd obviously lied about Supervillain asking for him, so she only had herself to blame for this situation, and frankly, he didn't trust anything she said anymore. In fact, he was very suspicious about what she was actually doing all the way out here and why she'd tricked a henchman to come along. Not to mention she'd jeopardized his job, maybe even his life, with her selfishness.
He quickly swallowed it all down. None of it would be met well, and he didn't need to be more on Villain's bad side than he apparently already was. He could defend his power though.
"Well, maybe if let me bake you something--"
"Just shut up." Villain plopped back down on the mattress and rolled the other direction.
Henchman stared at her back for a moment. "Should I still keep watch?"
"You might as well go to bed. You’re useless to me.”
Again with the combat-superiority bias. Henchman bit his tongue. “I might not be a good fighter, but I could still wake you up if there's trouble."
"Do whatever you want."
Fine then. He threw off his shoes, kicked under the covers, and flipped toward the wall, the bed springs squeaking aggressively under his weight.
Why should he break his back helping out a villain who didn’t even appreciate it? This was just so typical villain. What a bunch of pretentious snobs flouncing around with their "special" powers and looking down on everyone else. When it came down to it, it wasn't like Villain was really any different from him. They were both pieces. She was just as much under Supervillain's thumb.
“Excuse me?” Villain snarled.
Henchman stiffened. Did he say that out loud? Which part? How much?
He wet his lips and slowly peeked toward Villain's bed but was instantly thrown down. Villain's knees dug hard into Henchman's forearms while her hands were already around his throat, squeezing just tight enough that there was room for a trickle of breath and little else, certainly not any vocals like screaming or begging. "I'm not under anyone's thumb. Got that? I'm not afraid of anyone. If I wanted, I could finish you right here."
Henchman froze. Some prey ran, some fought back, but he was of the type that went still. Like a possum playing dead or a deer in the headlights. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. All he could really do was stare helplessly wide-eyed up at her. The ends of her hair tickled Henchman’s cheeks, and she bent close enough that he could pick out the amber specks in her molten eyes and feel the warmth of her breath across the bridge of his nose. She blinked into his gaze, and the snarl on her face softened.
She huffed. You’re just lucky I don’t have the time to clean up a body.” She unstraddled his chest and rose off the edge of the bed.
Henchman coughed a couple times and rubbing away the lingering pressure of her fingertips from his throat. "Bit of an overreaction for someone so sure of herself."
Villain whirled, red mane catching the air before floating back to her shoulders. "Do you want to die?"
Henchman smiled innocently. He was being so stupid. He knew that. But for some reason, he felt if Villain really was the sort of person who killed carelessly, she would have rid herself of him the moment he revealed the mistake. One less witness to her trip, mission, thing.
"Certainly not."
“Then shut. Up.” She flicked off the lamp on her way to her bed, blanketing them in darkness except for the sliver of street light stealing through a gap in the curtains.
“Of course, your eminence.”
Henchman curled back on his side, prey heart pounding even under the cover of freshly conjured snark. He rubbed his throat again. He was probably lucky she’d chosen a physical warning over using her powers. If there was any villain he should actually be showing respect to it was her. A primary power user. She’d been top dog of the city before Supervillain showed up and organized everything. She had the power to rearrange, but he had the power to take apart. And taking apart was so much quicker. So right hand it was.
“Villain?”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”
“Are you running away?”
“What?” Her eyes caught the light from the street, glowing catlike. “Do you think I’m some sort of cow—”
“It’s ok if you are. I bet you could run your own city.”
She blinked.
“Supervillain’s sort of made it impossible for any sort of natural growth in the organization. He kills people for their mistakes, he pits his subordinates against each other, he doesn’t value any of tertiary power types; sometimes it feels like he doesn’t care about the strength of the organization as long as everyone else stays beneath him. It’s not like he’s at risk of being taken out by anyone. Heroes or otherwise.” Henchman caught himself, quickly shaking out his rant. “I’m just saying that it makes sense to me why you might want to leave. Do your own thing.”
"That's not any of your business." She closed her eyes again and didn't say any more.
Henchman forced his own eyes shut. Despite being tired, his thoughts were filled with Supervillain. His insides twisted into knots, raising a light bout of nausea. He couldn't go back. Henchman might be too valuable to kill, but there was no guarantee. Supervillain's decisions weren't always logical. Henchman was actually a little glad to be away from it all. There had been no hope for escape on his own--Supervillain didn't like being stolen from, and leaving was a theft of yourself--but maybe if he was on Villain's side he'd be ok.
Henchman pulled the covers closer around him. He must have fallen asleep because when he next opened his eyes, the room was lit in the dim blue-gray of early morning. The shower handle squeaked from the other side of the wall, and a few minutes later, Villain emerged in the same clothes as yesterday, hair pulled in a wet bubble braid that reached to the middle of her back. She yanked on her boots and snatched the car keys from the bedside table.
“I'll drop you off at a bus stop, but you'll have to find your own way back.”
Henchman blinked groggily at her, but as it struck he shot upright. "Back?" He gaped at her. "You want me to go back? Alone? With nothing but my own word that you forced me to come with you?"
"Well, it's not like I need you to stay. Two people are much easier to track than one."
"You screwed up my job! I missed my deadline! Supervillain could have me killed!"
"And you'll be better off begging for forgiveness than continuing on."
Henchman frowned. Was she actually looking out for him? "What if became your henchman?"
"What are you even talking about?"
"You're building your own empire, right? You'll need followers. So, I'll be the first one. I'll do everything you don't want to and prove that I'm actually useful."
Villain furrowed her brow, suspicion rearranging the pattern of her freckles. "Why?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're just a random henchman that I've never even met. Why are throwing yourself at me?"
Henchman flushed. "Ok, first of all, I don't think I'd describe it like that. Second, we have met. Last, my powers are 100% support-based. I need a boss, and I'd rather work for you than Supervillain."
"What are you going to do, make me cupcakes?"
"Sure. And pot pie. And buttermilk biscuits. And apple strudel. And--"
"How do you--"
Henchman cut the accusation short. "I know everyone of note's favorites. It was my job. Which was a pretty significant job if you ask me."
"You mildly boost powers, so what?"
"That's not..." Whatever. Henchman wasn't in the mood for convincing someone who obviously didn't want to be convinced. "Nutrition is actually a very critical part of an escape. It keeps you alert, energized, and happy. And anyway, I'm pretty sure I've spent more time being inconspicuous than you have, especially when Supervillain first took over the underbelly. I can help organize things. Give advice." He fiddled nervously with a string on his sleeve. He needed this. "Like...for example, you're going to want to trade out that car. It's nice and all but ultra-trackable. Pretty sure Supervillain has a way to hack cameras."
Villain pressed her lips together so tightly it looked painful. "Fine."
"To which part."
Villain waved her hand in the air and strode for the door. "Fine, you can come, and fine, we'll get a new car. But we're making a shopping run first. I left in a rush. So start thinking of things you need."
Henchman trotted grinning after her. “Flour, sugar, baking powder—”
"Not that. There will be no baking."
Master Taglist:
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mylovelies-docx · 11 months
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Dinner & Diatribes
A/N: Hey, wow, look at me posting another fic!
This one has also been in the works for a while (if you know when Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier came out, you might realize just how long).
Highly suggest giving the song a listen! Or anything by Hozier, really. I finally get to see this man in concert, so I'm ecstatic!
This is 5k words of pure smut. No plot. I'm not sorry about it.
Plot (or lack thereof): You and Bucky attend a dinner party for a couple you saved on the last mission. Unbeknownst to the couple (or maybe they just don't care), they're being total cock-blocks.
C/W: Smut, smut, smut (18+, Minors DNI)
Kinks: Edging, choking, hair-pulling, spanking, fingering, public sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, cock warming, Bucky's metal hand (yes, it is a kink), reader is cock-drunk for half of the story. Probably more, let me know.
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“Save some people one time, and they think they’re obligated to your free time,” you mutter into Bucky’s ear. He laughs softly and tightens his arm where it lays around your shoulders. Bucky knows that there’s no real venom behind your words, just disgruntlement that you’re not spending the evening alone like you had planned.
A destination wedding. How cliche. You didn’t know the couple, but your publicist insisted that you and Bucky attend their wedding. You’re currently sitting around a cramped table in the hotel restaurant, sipping greedily at your alcoholic beverage hoping to take the edge off.
The couple nearly broke down your and Bucky’s door an hour earlier, insisting that you join their wedding party downstairs for dinner. Their pounding on the door kept you from getting pounded by your boyfriend, and now you’re frustrated beyond belief. This nice dress should have been crumpled on your hotel room floor next to where you’d left your panties earlier. You wiggle in your seat as you’re reminded of your bare ass against the leather.
Buck reaches his metal arm across his body and rests his palm on the top of your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “The head is a talking type, yeah?” he whispers to you, nodding towards the head of the table who had been droning on (and on) about how they’d met their significant other at a galaaaa and they’d had canapes and spaaarkling waaaater while looking out from the verandaaaa in Viennaaaa. 
Seriously. Could they be any more pretentious?
You roll your eyes and bring your glass up to cover your mouth as you say, “Sounds like Tony before he ate a slice of humble pie out in the desert.” Bucky nearly chokes on his drink, spluttering and coughing into the back of his hand. He quickly recovers with an apologetic little smile and wave when the wedding party gives him a look, appalled that he’d dare interrupt the speech. They all face forward again when Bucky places his glass back on the table.
Bucky leans his head down so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“You better watch yourself, doll.” Bucky’s hand on your thigh slides to where your legs come together, too far to be of any use to you at the moment but tantalizing as the cool metal heats from the warmth of your skin. “The more we interrupt, the longer we’ll be here in hell.”
A smirk curves your lips as you place your hand on Bucky’s cheek and guide his head so you can whisper in his ear. The roughness of his stubble against your soft palm has you thinking of where else you’d like to feel the burn of his beard.
“I’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’ll do to me tonight.”
Bucky’s normally soft blue eyes find your own, and his gaze darkens as he stares intently at you. Your own pulse rises to match the thud of his heart where your palm has slipped down to cup around his neck. 
Bucky uses the arm on your shoulder and the hand between your legs to pull you closer on the padded bench. Your dress was too short to tuck underneath you as you sat down, and you’d been so turned on earlier that the slick between your thighs had escaped and caused your thighs to stick to the leather. The abrupt movement vibrates your skin, sending pleasure straight to your core. You close your eyes at the sensation and the feel of Bucky’s warm breath across your face. He’s pulled the thigh he was holding so that your knee is hitched up over his leg, leaving you open to the cool breeze flowing from underneath the table. 
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he coos softly, “You want me to tell you what I’d rather be doing right now?”
You breathe out heavily as your thigh brushes against the bulge in his pants, opening your eyes to look into Bucky’s bright gaze. “Tell me.”
His metal fingers inch their way up your thigh, coming closer and closer to where you want him most.
“Or would you rather I show you?” he breathes against your mouth right before he places a small, hungry kiss on your lips. You hum, trying to follow him as he pulls his face away. He nestles your head against his shoulder and acts like he’s paying attention to the speech again, but his index finger ever so gently runs along your slit, gathering the wetness that only continues to grow as he caresses you.
You whimper silently, aware that the people next to and across from you could look over at any moment and see Bucky’s hand at your exposed core. You grasp at his shirt and ever so subtly shift your hips. Bucky tsks softly and moves his arm down off your shoulders and around your hips so that he can hold you in place.
Bucky’s voice is husky in your ear. “You don’t want these people to see you grinding on my hand like the needly little thing you are, do you?”
You gasp as one thick finger suddenly thrusts inside you. You press your forehead hard into Bucky’s chest, barely stopping yourself from crawling into his lap and straddling the hard length that’s straining against the fabric of his slacks.
Just then, the person that had been talking for the last eternity finally ended their speech. Bucky curls his finger once inside of you before extricating his hand from between your tense thighs. You whine at the loss as Bucky very casually licks his finger and pulls his arm away from your hips. He shoots you a shit-eating grin as he claps for the next person standing up to speak.
“You wanted to know what I’m gonna do with you later tonight, right? I’m thinking something like that.”
You laugh as it sinks in. Bucky is only teasing you, and he’d never intended for you to get off on his fingers – or even come close to it – here at the table. Or at all, if he’s thinking of edging you all night. You can scarcely speak, thinking of what all he has in mind for tonight.
The dinner drags on. Bucky refuses to do anything more than kiss along your neck, or gently graze your nipples as he reaches across you for something, or hike your leg higher over his so that he can quickly rub your clit with his thumb for no more than a few seconds. 
You’re nearly out of your mind with lust by the time the end of the party is in sight. You’ve been able to drown out everyone’s voices with the brief feel of Bucky’s lips and hands, with the dirty visions of your anticipated release later tonight. 
You’re so wound up that you barely register the parting words of the final speaker until you notice everyone turning away to reach for their glasses. You compose your features into an expression that you hope is passable despite the heat suffusing your face and chest. Your unsteady breaths are barely concealed by the fake little laugh you let out as you raise your glass with everyone else. Your eyes travel from Bucky’s slick and shiny fingers all the way up his arm and to his face. He’s looking at you with eyes that promise so many things once you’re alone.
“And a thank you to our very special friends: the Avengers. Thank you both soooo much for taking the time away from saving the world to help me celebrate my world.”
You snap your gaze away from Bucky’s heated one and chuckle a little awkwardly as you look around. Everyone is looking at you now, and you hope like hell they’re oblivious to what Bucky has been doing to you for the last hour. You’re extremely conscious of the fact that you’re basically sitting in a puddle of your own juices, so turned on that you’ve soaked through the side of Bucky’s pants where your core has been trying and failing to grind against him.
The dinner party begins to make their goodbyes and stand to leave. A spike of anxiety shoots through you at the thought of having to stand up and expose the shine and slick coating Bucky’s leg and the seat beneath you. Your hand clenches around Bucky’s knee and you turn your face up to look at him. 
He gives you a soft smile and places a kiss on your temple before reaching for something on the table and ‘accidentally’ spilling a large glass of water as he pulls his hand back. All the contents in the cup cascade over the side of the table and into both of your laps. You jump up at the cold liquid hitting your sensitive thighs and feel Bucky jump up behind you, his entire lap soaking wet.
“You okay, dollface?” Bucky asks as he wraps you in his arms and pulls you away from the rapidly spreading puddle at your feet. You nod your head and wrap your arms around his waist. You’re so lust-rattled that you’ve turned into a needy and clingy little thing, unable to think any coherent thoughts until after Bucky lets you cum.
Bucky wraps his arms low around your waist, hands perilously close to groping your ass in front of everyone. You feel his cock pressing hard into your abdomen as you cling onto his front, causing you to shimmy against him. Bucky sucks in a quick breath before making his excuses and guides you both out of the dining room. He pulls you away from him so that you can walk beside him normally, but he grabs your hand in his large one and squeezes so that you know he doesn’t want to let you go.
He hustles you to the elevator and rapidly presses the call button. You turn so that the arm holding your hand is pulled into your body, cradling his bicep between your breasts. You grab at the other and entwine your fingers, lowering your hands so that his knuckles press into your mound right above your aching clit. You whine loudly at the feeling, uncaring of the people around you.
Bucky curses and pulls his hand away from your heated flesh. Pushing his now free hand through his hair, Bucky looks quickly around the lobby. He spots what he’s looking for and drags you through a door at the end of the room. Before the door even closes, he grabs both of your hands in his metal one and pushes you against the wall with your arms pinned above your head. He uses his flesh hand to grab at your knee and pull it up to his waist. You moan at the feel of him pushing against your center.
“Hell, sugar, you can’t do that in the middle of the fucking lobby.” Bucky rubs his nose along your jawline and up into your hair, breathing in deeply against your scalp. “There’s paparazzi standing right outside those windows.”
“Don’t care,” you whine, using your position to grind satisfyingly against his cock. “Need you, Bucky. Please.”
“Jesus, doll,” Bucky groans low in his throat, “you’re gonna get us in trouble.” But he’s as addicted to you as you are to him, so he drops your wrists and pulls you up into his arms, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and settle against him fully. You throw your head back against the wall and look above you, seeing dozens of sets of stairs spin into the highest reaches of the hotel.
Your moan bounces up into the echo chamber of the stairwell when Bucky thrusts his hips against yours roughly, fighting against the fabric of his pants to feel your wet heat on his cock. He grinds himself between your legs, the rough fabric covering his hard length providing the friction you've been looking for all evening. You gasp and tighten your legs where they've pulled Bucky in as close as you could get him, wanting – needing – to feel him buried inside you.
"Are you close, baby? Close to coming all over me in this stairwell?" He stops grinding for a moment to bounce you higher up the wall, putting a millisecond's worth of intense pressure on your clit. "Huh?" Bucky prompts.
"Yes," you mewl pathetically. You have one hand pushing against his shoulder while the other clasps his neck and pulls him into you, the stimulation too much for your body to know if it wanted Bucky to make you come or not.
Of course, you want it, your brain tells you. You want it oh so bad.
"Bucky. Please. I'm – ah."
"Yeah, baby?" Bucky teases you, using one hand to turn your face so that he can look into your cloudy eyes. What he sees there must spur him further in his own desire, because he suddenly plants a hard kiss on your lips and pulls away from you.
You drop down, barely catching yourself in time for your wobbly knees to support you. You nearly cry at the loss of contact, tears starting to form in your eyes. But as quickly as Bucky had dropped you, he scoops you up and over his shoulder. You feel a firm smack against your skin where your thigh meets the swell of your backside, and you can't help but cry out as the sensation travels through your skin and vibrates deep inside your pussy.
"Quiet, doll," Bucky admonishes as he climbs the stairs three at a time, "not a sound until we're in the room. Got it?" He asks again with another smack.
With your ass on full display over Bucky's shoulder, all you can do is wrap your arms around his waist from the back and feel the rush of blood flow to your head. 
"Good girl," Bucky hums at your silence. He massages the juncture of your legs, his long fingers nearly inside your slit. You gasp quietly with every bump as Bucky powers up the stairs to your floor.
Once at the correct level, Bucky wrenches open the stairwell door, making sure to keep you balanced up on his shoulder. He walks quickly to your room, digging the keycard out of his pocket and swiping it against the reader. You can’t see the red light, but you hear the indicator deny your entry.
Bucky curses and tries again. Another error code. 
You whimper pitifully from where you dangle, close to crying if Bucky’s cock isn’t inside of you soon. “Bucky. Baby. Please. I can’t wait anymore.”
Your cries force another curse from Bucky’s lips. He can’t stand how painfully needy you sound. Can’t stand not giving you exactly what you want from him.
He grabs the handle with his metal fist, forcing it downwards and breaking the locking mechanism. Finally gaining entry, Bucky walks in and kicks the door closed with his foot. Not wasting any more time, he throws you onto the bed, where you bounce several times on the plush surface. You spread your legs wide, laying there for several seconds. You enjoy the view of Bucky’s eyes on your exposed pussy as he shucks off his suit jacket and unbuttons the shirt beneath.
As his hands get to his belt, his eyes trail up from your glistening folds and pierce directly into your lust filled gaze. “All fours. Now.”
Not wasting a second, you turn over onto your stomach, pushing yourself up onto your knees and hands. You spread your legs apart, granting access for Bucky to slide in between them. But instead of a dip in the bed behind you like you’re expecting, you feel Bucky’s large hands grab onto your hips, pulling you backwards towards the edge of the bed.
You squeal in anticipation, feeling Bucky’s long legs press into your thighs. One of his hands circles around from your hip and cups your pussy. The other slides up along your spine until it reaches the back of your neck, forcing your top down until you’re resting on your elbows instead.
“I’m going deep, dollface. Take a nice big breath for me.”
If Bucky hadn’t reminded you, you’d probably have suffered from hypoxia since you’re sure you haven’t taken a breath since turning over.
You suck in a lungful of air as Bucky’s hand on your neck slides back down to your bottom and gives a quick slap. You shudder against him and almost collapse onto your face as he takes the hand from your pussy and lifts your thigh up and over the leg he plants on the bed.
Without a second’s hesitation, Bucky plunges his cock directly into your aching hole, filling you full to the brim.
You cry out in shock, your pussy spasming around his girth. No matter how many times you’ve taken him and no matter how wet you are, your body always forgets just how massive he is.
“That’s right,” he breathes, giving you a moment to adjust. “Just like that, baby.”
You moan and arch your back, hoping to accommodate quickly to this angle. When Bucky said deep, he meant deep. You can feel his cockhead nestled right up to your cervix, barely any room to spare. You’re so full – it feels as if your lungs can’t expand around his presence inside you. 
You take in gasping breaths, so turned on that you can barely hold yourself up. Bucky’s flesh hand soothes your backside, rubbing gentle circles around the red handprint you’re sure is there.
“Breathe, darlin’,” he reminds you.
Once he sees your chest expand with oxygen, he slides out nearly all the way before plunging back in fiercely. You scream in pleasure as he continues to pump into you with abandon, feeling the way his abs flex against your buttocks, how his cock slams over and over into your slick hole, how his balls slap against your clit. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your mouth on a particularly deep thrust, tears welling up and spilling out of your eyes. 
You reach one arm forward, grabbing for a pillow to bury your face in. The sensations are so intense that you need to bite down hard on the pillow, just needing to release the pressure building and building inside of you. You inhale your own hot, humid air as you struggle to take everything Bucky is giving you.
You’re so close to coming that you can’t think straight, but the rest of Bucky is so far away. You need to feel his whole body against you, need to feel his heat along your back and taste his tongue in your mouth.
“Bucky,” you whine, reaching a grabby hand behind you and looking to grab onto any part of him that you can reach. 
Your fingers barely scrape along the V of his lower abdomen, but Bucky scoops up your hand with his flesh one, the metal one still holding your thigh over his leg.
“What is it, baby?” he huffs. “What do you need, kitten?”
“You,” you gasp, leaving a trail of spittle from your mouth down to where you’ve had your jaw locked onto the pillow.
He huffs out a small laugh. “You’ve got me, Sugar.” He takes your entwined hands and uses your combined fingers to rub against your clit. “I’m right here.”
You sob at the pressure, too wound up to truly enjoy using the juices dripping from your pussy on your bundle of nerves. You shake your head, trying to figure out how to get your point across with what little vocabulary is left inside your sex-adled brain.
“You,” huff, “on me. My back.”
Bucky releases your hand and grabs your bicep, hauling you up until your back is flush with his chest and you’re sitting on his cock. You moan and bite your lip hard, leaning your head against his shoulder because you don’t have the strength to hold it up.
“This, baby? This what you’re wantin’?” he breathes against your ear, using both hands on your thighs to hold you up so that he can keep pistoning up into your cunt.
Shaking your head again, you take in the air Bucky is breathing onto your face, getting high off his pheromones. “Want you to – ah – lay on me. Hold me down.”
Bucky growls in your ear. Securing you against his chest, Bucky climbs fully onto the bed without breaking contact, leaving you impaled on his swollen member. The heat radiating off of him has beads of sweat rolling down your back and gathering in your hair. 
He stops at the pillow you dragged down earlier. Spreading his legs wide, he splits you open on his shaft before laying you both down onto the bed. His body crushes you into the comforter, your hips at an angle where they lay on your abandoned pillow so that he’s still able to leverage into you.
Totally ensconced in Bucky’s heat, you can feel every muscle of his as he grinds into you. The pressure of his body on top of yours collapses your lungs, making it hard to breathe. But that’s exactly what you wanted.
Bucky’s long, deep thrusts from your last position turn into short, brutal pumps. Your pussy clings onto his cock so tightly that you don’t think he could pull all the way out even if he tried. His hips beat against your ass, sending jolts to your clit where it grinds against the pillow.
Bucky’s metal grip winds its way up your body and into your hair. He grabs a handful and pulls your head up and around so that he can plant a sloppy kiss against your gasping mouth.
“This is what you were wantin’, ain’t it, sugar?” You nod as much as his hand in your hair will allow. Feeling his whole body working to give you pleasure sends every nerve fiber sizzling down into your core, putting you right on the edge of release.
“Wanted to feel me on you. In you. All over you? Huh?” Bucky’s words are harsh as he pants against your lips between thrusts.
There are no coherent thoughts in your head. You are so close you can taste it, but you need something. Something. Your blissed-out mind can’t think of what it is you finally need to tip over the edge.
But Bucky does.
His metal hand tugs hard on your hair before sliding down underneath you to grab at your throat. What little oxygen you were able to pull in before is now completely cut off, Bucky’s metal fingers dig into the soft flesh and nearly cut off circulation. His human hand snaps down to your clit and rubs harsh circles.
“Come.” He commands.
No sound escapes your mouth as you come hard on Bucky’s cock, spasming around the thick shaft and pulling him deeper into you. The world turns black as you ride wave after wave of pleasure, seeming to fall endlessly into ecstasy. 
When you’ve almost passed out from lack of oxygen, Bucky’s grip loosens just enough to revive you. You breathe in and out harshly, the air leaving your lungs in sharp gusts as Bucky continues to pump into you rapidly. 
“So good for me, baby,” he coos softly in your ear. You babble incoherently as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, breathing in deeply against your hair. “My sweet girl.”
You smile drunkenly at the praise, knowing that if he kept going like this you’d come again soon.
But before you can climb much higher, Bucky raises himself onto his elbows and slides out of you. The slick pop as the head of his cock leaves your tight entrance sends you spiraling at the loss.
“No, no, no, no, no…” you whine, trying to follow with your hips in the hopes that he’ll slide back in.
He laughs at you softly and kisses a trail across your shoulder blades. “Just a second, darlin’. I want to see your face.”
Bucky’s arms slide under your pliant body and flip you over onto your back. He grabs your ankles and plants your feet onto his shoulders so that you’re bent in half. He leans down until your knees are spread wide near your head and his lips are only centimeters away from yours.
If you thought it was hard to breathe before, this position shrinks your rib cage down to nothing, barely allowing for your lungs to expand more than a couple of inches. Bucky uses his metal hand to guide his cock back into your wet heat, setting a slow and languid pace.
His flesh hand comes up to cup your face, bringing you up so that he can kiss you lazily while taking long strokes in and out of your pussy. You huff dizzily into his mouth, trying your hardest to respond to his kisses. You bring your hands up through your legs and slide your fingers into his hair, keeping him close so that you can breathe the same air while he makes love to you.
The slow, gentle lovemaking sends you into a different kind of orgasm – one that starts as a soft fluttering of your walls and slowly morphs into a vice-like grip on his cock. You keen directly into his mouth, unable to pull yourself away from his lips even as you come apart. Bucky licks into your mouth, sucking your tongue and releasing it before nipping at your bottom lip. Picking up the pace, Bucky pumps into you until he reaches his own peak, grinding against you as his balls tighten and his warm seed leaks out of you.
“Bucky…” you breathe into his mouth. Your arms circle around his head and shoulders, pulling him down so that his face is nuzzled into your neck and you can plant soft, almost kisses to his temple.
You feel him grin into your throat and swipe his tongue briefly against your pulse. You giggle softly and tug at his hair. He raises up to look with a small smile on his face, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so that you can take a normal breath. You refuse to lose that much skin-to-skin contact, so you wrap your legs around his hips to keep him from pulling out of you any time soon.
He continues to grin down at you, sweeping a lock of your wet hair from your sweaty face. You smile up at him beatifically, basking in your post-orgasm haze.
He pulls your left arm from around his shoulders with his flesh hand. His eyes trace his gliding fingers as they make their way down your arm until he reaches your hand. He places a small kiss agaisnt the diamond ring sitting on your fourth finger before looking back at you.
“That’ll be us down there before too long,” he says to you, entertwining your fingers together and leaning back down to kiss your lips.
“What?” You question sarcastically. “That’ll be us cock-blocking some heros that saved our lives?”
“No, smartass,” he responds, tugging that same lock of hair from earlier with his metal hand. “It’ll be us not being able to shut up about how much we love each other in front of some heroes that saved our lives.”
“Yeah, well,” he responds slyly, “I’d already gotten you well and truly cock-drunk before Steve and Nat forced us on that ‘mission’.”
“Don’t let anyone on the team hear you say that,” you tell Bucky as you start scratching at his scalp with the hand he’s not currently holding. He closes his eyes and leans back down to rest his head on your chest. “They’re already insufferable since they think they set us up. Don't remind them they've saved our asses a couple of times."
You gasp lightly and playfully smack his head. “Bucky!”
He laughs heartily before he wraps both of his arms around your waist and nuzzles into you further. The movement causes you to feel his shaft begin to swell inside you once again. You wiggle against him and sink down further on his cock. He groans against your sternum as you flex your walls around him. “What, sweetheart? It’s the truth.”
You grab his cheeks with both of your hands and pull his face up to look at you. You pout your lips out in mock offense. “It’s not nice to point it out, though.”
He laughs and gives you a peck on your pouty lips. He rolls you both over until you are laying on top of his chest. His hands fall to your hips again and he looks up at you with mischief in his eyes. “Well, dollface,” he begins. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
You rest your palms on his chest and push yourself up. You grind your hips experimentally and watch as his eyes flash.
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
~•~○~•~○~•~○~•~○~•Fin~•~○~•~○~•~○~•~○~•
Please pay the Troll Toll: likes, reblogs, and comments mean the world to me! I'm always looking to improve my writing (I also like validation, please and thank you)
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azurlily · 4 months
Note
i saw that request for resident lover is open soo... may i ask for some cassandra smut? i NEED this woman her way with me
Yall are down bad, but I am too so no worries. I fully intend to write smut for Alcina and Miranda later. If anyone would like to request a special kind of smut with them, I'd be more than happy to write it. - L and W
I also have a dark one-shot(maybe more) for Cassandra's BAD end. I'm so down bad for scary Cass, and I think her turning to the dark side, but still loving you is perfect. - L
THIS HAS NOT BEEN SPELL CHECKED! Made by Lune and Wora.
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"Cassie, I know you said you had some big birthday gift for me, but considering we're not in the theater and instead in your room, I'm slightly worried..."
You heard rustling around the room, and you hear a loud and pretentious scoff. You smirk, knowing you've offended your girlfriend in some way.
"I'll have you know that my entire life doesn't revolve around theater. It revolves around you; you're my world. As for your gift, if you don't like this, I don't know what you'll like!"
You can hear the cheery happiness in her tone; she's more excited about this than you were.
Previously, Cassandra had told you she was doing something a bit different for your birthday. All you had to do was stand in the bedroom and wait. With your eyes closed of course!
You make a snarky remark back and based upon the fact that Cassandra doesn't answer you assume she's ignoring you. You continue to hear rustling and even some groaning on her part. What could she possibly be doing?
"Alright, you're allowed to look!"
You smile and open your eyes only to see something that's absolutely engraved into your mind and while stay there until the say you die.
Cassandra is wearing a lacy red and black lingerie set. The base itself is black, while the design is a crimson red, adorning Cassie's skin elegantly. Cassandra can make just about anything look good, and she's proving that right now. Cassie has her arms behind her back and the most lovestruck and mischievous look on her face.
She looks like she's going to eat you, and you would let her. In the state you're in right now, you'd let that woman do anything to you. And you'd thank her for all of it.
You stare so hard that Cassandra begins to blush bashfully. You haven't spoken a word, and at first, Cassandra worried that you didn't like it. That was until she saw the awestruck look in your eyes. You're mentally preparing yourself.
"Are you just going to sit there, my star? If so, I just might have to take care of myself if you won't... And to think I was going to let you top tonight, what a shame."
That snapped you out of it quickly, you look up at her like a love sick puppy and shake your head.
"No, no, no, I-I want to take care of you Cassie. I want to-"
You're cut off with a finger to your lips. Cassandra pulls her finger away and leans down, she gently kisses you on the lips. It felt amazing, you two had kissed many times, but this? This was different in some way, some way you couldn't properly explain. Nor did you want to.
Explaining would mean you'd have to start thinking, and you didn't want to do that. You wanted to become a girl shaped pile of mush that let Cassandra do whatever she pleased to her.
The taste of Cassandra's lips were intoxicating; espresso and chocolate. They melded so well together, and being able to taste them on your girlfriends lips made them taste even better together.
Cassandra pulls from you with a devious look on her face.
"I guess you can try to top me next year, star. After seeing the look on your face-"
Cassandra's voice gets lower, her eyes darken and she shifts your chin so your looking her in the eyes.
"-I fully intend to take good care of you and your body. Now l hope those clothes aren't important because I will be ripping them off."
Cassandra quickly mumbles something about buying you more later before grabbing your shirt and making good on her words. She rips your shirt in two. She almost did the same to your shorts, but you talked her into letting you strip.
Of course, Cassandra being the impatient person she is, once you were down to just your bra, she grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed. The look in her eyes made you wonder if you were going to survive the night.
"Hands on the headboard, you know the deal."
Her voice change sent shivers down your spine. The usually velvety smooth voice has gotten dark, rough. Cassandra not only looked at you like she was going to eat you, she sounded like she was too.
Cassandra's hands begin to explore, one on your stomach kneading and pressing her hand into it. The other playing with your chest, she runs her fingers over your nipples softly before giving them a hard pinch.
You yelp and she laughs melodiously, it sounds so sweet. You'd revel in the sound of her voice more, but what her hands are doing is far more important.
The hand that was previously on your stomach has found it's way into your underwear. Cassandra has a finger pressed against your puffy clit, and the rest of her fingers are cupping your pussy.
Feeling her touch your bundle of nerves, you buck into her hand. That results in a harsh slap to your thigh. You whimper, but otherwise keep quiet.
You know what you want, she knows what you want. You hoped that it was only a matter if time before you got it, but that was for her to decide.
Cassandra pulls rips your panties off of you and spreads your legs. She wants you on full display, she wants to see the embarrassment on your face knowing she got herself all dolled up for you.
But you don't get to touch her, meanwhile she can rip your clothes off and treat you how you deserve to be treated. Cassandra looks at your face, you look absolutely debauched.
"Mercy is a wonderful thing, my star."
Cassandra dips her head down between your thighs, she uses two fingers to spread your folds apart and begins sucking on your clit.
You whine loudly and squirm, you begin moving too much for Cassandra's liking so she grabs you by your thighs and all but presses you into her.
Cassandra mounts both your legs onto her shoulders. The look in her eyes isn't one of love, it's pure lust.
Cassandra moves one of her hands down onto your cunt, she presses two fingers into you. You're already so fucking wet, these will surely fit. And she's right, they practically slide in, god you wanted this.
Cassandra enjoys it for a moment, getting onto a rythm of sucking on your clit and pumping two fingers inside you at the same time.
Meanwhile you whined, at first you were begging- for what you did not know, but now you're spouting unintelligible words that you aren't sure go together.
Cassandra's tounge always brings you to the edge the fastest, and paired with her fingers and the lingerie. You were bound to have quite the fun night. Because you've learned the hard way that Cassandra enjoys forcing one orgasm after the other.
She enjoys seeing the dumb and fuck out look on your face when shes done. The tear stained cheeks and the bite marks and throbbing hickeys all turn her on in a way she doesn't understand.
Cassandra can feel you tightening around her fingers. She stops sucking on your clit and begins sucking your tits. Meanwhile, the other hand holds onto your thigh. Cassandra lets go and presses against your stomach, gently applying pressure.
Cassandra breaks away from your tits, deciding to stake her claim elsewhere. She moves to your neck and begins sucking small hickeys before getting impatient and biting down.
"C-Cassie! A-ah, oh fuck-"
"You can pull your hands down, and I won't make you beg to cum. Although that is one of my favorite activities..."
You wrap your arms around her back and dig your nails into her skin. Your body is melting; it has to be. This is too much all at once, and yet you just want more and more.
"Ah-fuck... my star. That's it press against me as much you n-need."
Cassandra talks you through your orgasm and you whimper and whine the entire time. It's just so much, and as good as this feels you know this isn't even close to the end.
As you ride out the last of your orgasmic bliss, you feel Cassandra pull her hands away. When you open your eyes you see shes moved off the bed and is standing there with a dark red strap.
"You're choice star, either you sit on my face and I eat you until you see stars...or I rail you over the bed. Both will be happening, but you get to choose which one first!"
Cassandra had that charismatic look in her eyes, the one that held darkness and need. A need you could fill so very easily.
"So what will it be, little star?"
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I regret being a co-writer to this monstrosity. - W
Anyway we hope yall like this to some extent. Also of course if you haven't played Resident Lover(a free sapphic game based off of Resident Evil: Village) you definitely should. The people that made such an amazing game are @resident-lover .
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spenzitz · 1 year
Text
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VALENTINE'S DAY (dazai edition)
dazai isn't really into valentines day dazai x gn!reader, pre-relationship,
a/n ~ if you read this, you are now my valentines, ily ( ◜◒◝ )♡ words ~ 1.1K first post for my little valentines bsd 'event' thing (´・ᴗ・`)♡
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dazai isn't really one for holidays. i doubt he keeps track of the days at all. so when valentines day rolls around, he isn't really all that conscience of it. sure, he sees flowers for sale on every corner and heart decorations everywhere, so he knows it's coming, but he doesn't really care when or how soon.
"aren't you going to get y/n anything?" atsushi asks innocently, dragging dazai out of his thoughts. the two were sitting in their regular booth at cafe uzumaki, resting after a long and tedious job. dazai stares absent-mindedly out the window and responds with a bored tone, "and why would I do that?"
atsushi looked at him blankly for a moment before saying, "well, I thought you liked them??" the boy waited eagerly for a response, staring at him, but dazai gave nothing. just a sigh as he turned his attention to his coffee.
"well, maybe you're just friends, and I'm making assumptions, but I don't think people talk about their friends the way you talk about them." atsushi spats, pouting and entirely done with dazai's bull shit.
this grabs dazai's attention. he grins and looks up at atsushi. "would you look at that. we might make a detective out of you yet."
atsushi smiles and lets out a sigh. he's not completely satisfied with the response, but he also has no patience left to push him further.
now that atsushi has given up, dazai decides he has no reason to defend his barely kept secrets. "let's say I did feel a lot for y/n. wouldn't something from me, on valentines day, just seem like a joke to them?" he's smiling at atsushi, but his tone is somber. he genuinely feels like he has no options, atsushi realizes.
when valentines day does roll around, dazai comes in to work fashionably late as he does every morning. he's lightly scolded by kunikida, just like every morning. kunikida starts telling dazai about a job the president wants them to take, but dazai isn't listening. since he strolled in, everything was a blur.
from the outside, dazai looked apathetic and unamused as always. but you saw his eyes change when he saw the envelope on his desk with his full name handwritten.
"Osamu Dazai"
everyone else had to wonder who it was from, but dazai was analytical, he knew your handwriting. he'd sat with you, distracting you from finishing paperwork at least a hundred times.
he takes a seat at his desk across from you, still calm and collected, ignoring kunikida. he opens the envelope and is immediately overcome by a wave of scent. your signature scent. just in case he hadn't caught your handwriting.
it's a handwritten letter, nothing special, just lined paper written on with a scratchy, cheap, ballpoint pen. the same kinds of pens you loved because they were, "reliable, professional but not too pretentious, and you wouldn't be upset if you lost them because they come in packs of 20."
kunikida had stopped his scolding by this point, and atsushi had noticed the handwritten letter, darting his eyes up at you, who seemed to be stealing glances at dazai.
atsushi, now thinking of himself as a wingman, suddenly stands up, grabbing you and kinukida's attention. "h-hey, mr. kunikida! do you think you could help me with the printer?!?" he practically blurts out. "smooth," dazai thinks.
"the printer?" kunikida starts, looking at atsushi confused. "i've already shown you multiple times, and you've done it on your own before, I think you can handle a printer atsu-"
"p-please help me, sir!" atsushi begs, stiffly. kunikida groans and stands up. pushing in his chair, he says, "fine, but this is the last time I'm doing this." atsushi follows kunikida to the printers, very proud of himself, and you try to hold in your chuckles.
pretending to go back to work, you remain aware of dazai as he scans your every stroke on the lined paper.
"Dazai,
I know you don't care much for holidays, so this probably seems silly to you. However, after much teasing from Ranpo and Yosano, I've decided there are a few things I want to tell you.
Simply put, I really enjoy spending time with you. You can be cryptic as hell, but it only makes it all the more satisfying when I put the pieces together.
You've made me look forward to the long nights in the office, finishing up paperwork. It's when you're tired, and you drop just enough of your façade for me to get a glimpse of who you are.
You are thoughtful and intelligent. I really like that about you."
you didn't sign the letter, he notes. not that you needed to, he would know who it's from.
dazai re-folds the paper and fans himself with it, enjoying the fragrance you left on it, wafting it towards his face. he looks directly at you, no side glances, just looks at you.
by this point, you've turned beat red, embarrassed and regretting every word you wrote. your head is turned down, staring intently at the piece of paper on your desk, as if it is going to help you get out of this situation you put yourself in. but dazai is a very impatient man.
"y/n?" he says with a smug tone as he shifts his gaze to the envelope and folds the paper back inside.
"dazai?" you respond nonchalantly. you keep staring at the paper, pretending to read it, but he sees right through you. it takes one look at you for him to conclude that you just wont budge.
"i think i'm simply too tired to work right now," he begins, putting the envelope in his coat jacket, which you don't miss. "care to join me for some morning coffee downstairs?"
you look up at him, still blushing, "actually, maybe you could use some tea? i hear it's good for calming your nerves." he adds with a wide smirk. you hear chuckles from being you, no doubt belonging to ranpo and yosano. was that kenji you heard as well?
"fine! fine!" you say, jolting out of your seat and pushing your chair in frantically. "but you're paying," you add, trying to hold onto any bit of dignity you can.
when you turn around to head to the door, you see practically the whole agency staring back at you with starry eyes and big smiles. all you can do is plant your face in your palms and walk towards the door. dazai swiftly strides in front of you to open the door, and you speed-walk through it, hearing them all burst out into a mix of "aww," "i knew it!" and "I told you so."
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i get carried away with daz, what can i say (˃ᆺ˂✿)
masterlist
requests are open!
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devildom-moss · 9 months
Note
Hmmm I'm kinda curious maybe some Yandere Mephisto? (either headcanons or whatever works for you) I'm interested to see how you'd write it. Thank you and hope ur having a good day!
Super late on this, but I hope you'll still enjoy it, anon! I went with some headcanons - sfw and nsfw are clearly separated. Thank you for the request and I hope you have a good day, too.
yandere!Mephisto headcanons
(Mephisto x gn!MC)
(18+, dark themes for SFW and NSFW, NSFW)
(NSFW and other tags: yandere and general creepiness, mentions of: possessiveness, harm and cruelty to others - not MC, stalking and tracking, stealing clothes, recording without consent, marking, dubcon and implied potential noncon - only in the nsfw hypnosis section, hypnosis and magic, collaring, bondage, exhibitionism)
He likes to stalk gather information about you when he has time to spare. He’ll sometimes make a whole weekend out of it if he can – which can be awkward when someone asks him to do them a favor or spend time with them. Unless it’s Lord Diavolo (or MC, of course), he’ll just say he already made plans.
Mephisto keeps a notebook with facts about you (your favorite foods, flowers, where you spend days off, where you go to calm down, who you spend the most time with – he’s got more than a few pages). At least the man is smart enough to password seal his notebook with magic.  
He invites you over for Demonus tastings and asks for your opinions – he even asks you to take notes. It’s not even scratch paper notes – he’s got sturdy cardstock prepared with sections for appearance, aroma, taste, body, finish, etc. If you have no clue what you’re doing, he gets immense pleasure in teaching you. Surprisingly, he’s not too critical of your ability to take good notes; he adores the fact that you’re willing to do this with him – even if it does seem a bit pretentious. Mephisto will photocopy your notes and put one copy in his notebook about his demonus collection alongside his own notes and keep the original in his room. More on this in the NSFW section.
He will give you jewelry – but only pieces that he thinks you will love and wear often. For special occasions, he might even get something custom made. When you wear it, he feels like he’s claiming you. You’re wearing his gift. Unfortunately, he gets angry when you don’t wear one of his gifts – but he tries not to show you that side because he doesn’t want you to think he’s being irrational. Classmates, other members of the newspaper club, and any lesser demon who crosses his path the wrong way will face his wrath instead. He might bring it up casually to you, though. “Oh, MC, that necklace I got you would look great with your uniform, don’t you think?”
His favorite thing to gift to you are shoes. He loves the idea of you slipping something he gave you onto your precious feet. It’s like he’s taking every step with you. Mephisto will insist that you change shoes immediately when he gifts them, and he will often ask to put them on for you. His touch is so gentle and tender when he drops to one knee and slips the shoes onto your feet. He takes pride in securing the buckles comfortably around you or tying the perfect bow. Only once he’s done will he look up at you with an affectionate, “gorgeous.”  
Sure, he may have been rude to you when you first met (and let’s face it, he still is on occasion after he realizes he wants you), but he will find any demon who is rude to you and hurt them – depending on the severity of their actions. If lesser demons touch you, he will personally kill them. A man of his means has ways of washing his hands clean of any dirt that dares to lay an undeserving hand upon you. He might be crueler if he thinks you were nice to that demon (for example, if a demon bumps into you and drops their papers, and you help them pick everything up). No one deserves to touch you except him – and maybe Lord Diavolo. He makes an exception for those you might miss – anyone from Lucifer to one of the little D.s – even though he’d rather destroy anyone that gets between you and him.
You run into him (possibly a little too often) on outings – especially if you’re alone. It’s not enough to draw serious suspicion or to expect it any time you’re out and about, though. He knows just where to draw the line. Plus, he has things to do; he can’t stalk you and find you every time you’re alone. Mephisto doesn’t want you wandering the Devildom by yourself. He just feels more relaxed when he can watch over you, and getting to spend time alone with you is a bonus. Still, just in case he can’t be there, he tracks your D.D.D. constantly (and he put a few tracking spells on some of your most worn accessories and clothes).
He’ll try to be chill when he “runs into you” – unless he finds you with Lucifer or Diavolo. That gets on his nerves more than the others. He wouldn’t be happy to find you on a date with anyone else, but seeing you with Lucifer makes him hostile, and seeing you with Diavolo can make him passive aggressive. He often mentions how rare it is that Diavolo has a spare moment to spend with you. “You aren’t avoiding any work are you, My Lord? What would Barbatos say about that?” If he sees an opportunity to steal you away, he will. If he can do so without getting caught or in trouble, he’ll sabotage your date. It rubs him the wrong way when someone else shows you a good time, even though he wants you to be happy.
He records conversations with you to play back later. Sometimes he “forgets” to hit stop after an interview with you and your entire off the record conversation stays on his D.D.D. Oops. Other times, he just “accidentally” hit record when he sat down or something. How unusual.
If you’ve been testing him a lot (by being social), he’ll invite you over and take you into his room. He wants your scent everywhere. Nap in his bed, borrow his shirt, use his shower – just exist where he does for a minute. He loves and hates bringing you into his room because he knows he’ll have to let you leave at some point. Someone would come looking for you if he kept you there. As much as it breaks his heart, you’d probably want to leave after a while, too.
If you want tattoos, he asks if he can help you pick a design for your next tattoo. I don’t think he has the skill to tattoo you himself, so he would stomach someone else touching you if that means he would get to be a part of something permanent on your body. He wants you to think of him every time you look at yourself.
When he has you all to himself and you’re on much friendlier terms, he will ask if you’d like to try hypnosis or guided meditation with him, especially if you seem stressed or sad. He pitches it like it’s an opportunity to just relax and let go. All you have to do is trust him. If you agree, Mephisto uses magic and does his best to make it a soothing experience for you. He wants you to come to him whenever you need to relax or want comfort. It isn’t until after he’s wormed his way into that pretty little head of yours that he pushes the boundaries – asking you to desire him more than anyone, telling you to kiss him, demanding that you pull away from the others. More on this in the NSFW section.
NSFW
Remember those notes about Demonus that Mephisto keeps in his room? He’ll pour a glass of one of the bottles you shared and find the corresponding notes. He absolutely would masturbate to your handwriting and cum on the paper – probably moaning your name the entire time. Mephisto likes to imagine you drinking with him and taking advantage of his inebriated state. The thought that you could want him so much that you’d touch him when he was in no position to refuse you turns him on so much (not that he would ever refuse you). Despite that recurring fantasy, he rarely gets drunk around you because he’s terrified of making a fool of himself in your presence – especially since you’d be unaffected by the Demonus. After he’s ruined your handwriting sample, he’ll burn the incriminating evidence. It’s become a strange ritual for him, and he can’t seem to go a month without it. He may get extremely pushy about you coming over to try new bottles with him if he starts to run low on his MC handwriting sample supply.
Don’t let this man over and leave him unattended. He will use your brief neglect as an excuse to rummage through your laundry. Isn’t it lucky for him that underwear and socks are such easy garments to steal? He doesn’t really care whether they’re clean or dirty as long as you’ve already worn them before (and ideally if they smell like you). If you get the clothes back (not guaranteed), he will sneak them back after reluctantly washing them, but they definitely had his cum all over them at some point. He’s more likely to give clothes back if he bought them for you. Expect gifts of cute socks and if you’re already having sex with him, he’ll buy you underwear, too. Just don’t be too shocked if they go missing.
Speaking of not leaving him unattended, during those trips where everyone leaves, if you don’t invite him, he takes that as an invitation to break and enter sneak into your room. Mephisto – pent up with jealousy and need – will climb into your bed and touch himself. His mind gets fuzzy as he imagines you laying in bed with him. He moans loudly; he’s moaning for you, after all. He’s usually pretty careful not to make a mess when he does this. Mephisto doesn’t want to get caught, and he knows that if he leaves a mess in your sheets, he won’t want to clean it. The temptation to make you sleep in his cum is too strong, and it would make him feel better about not getting invited, so he avoids making a mess altogether. He might take something while he’s there, though. You deserve a punishment for leaving him alone, don’t you?
Did you really think hypnosis would stop at something as simple as a kiss? He is a demon, after all. He’d rather use hypnosis to enhance the experience of sex with you by calming your nerves, increasing your sensitivity, or overwhelming you with pleasure, but if he has to use it to get what he wants, he will. He wants you so much that he’ll resort to using magic. It’s a last resort, though, and he really wants you to want him on your own. There’s only so much a demon can take.
The next few are more of an established relationship yandere headcanon, but once he gets you in his bed, it takes every ounce of restraint he has to not keep you there. He wants to chain you to his bed (but rope works too) and tend to your every desire. If you let him, he’ll make you cum so much and so hard that you lose track of time. He’ll keep you there for multiple days, pleasuring you until you can’t think of anyone else but him. (He’ll let you go to eat, go to the bathroom, etc.) If your phone doesn’t get charged and no one can get ahold of you for a day or two, it’s not that big of a deal, right?
Mephisto will mark you up – biting and leaving hickeys all over your body. He wants others to see.
He will try to collar you – he’d even let you pick the style of collar that you want. If he can get you to wear it outside of the bedroom (although, if you’re already having sex, that is not contained to a bedroom), that’s even better. He wants to show off that he owns you. You belong to him. He’ll wear a collar for you, too, though. This man wants to be owned just as much as he wants to own you.
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steph-speaks · 7 months
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After Dark Rituals
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Sugar mama!Reader AU with Billy + Steve
Based on this post, though there will be some slight differences. Divider by the lovely @saradika <3
WC: 3,864
Warnings: 18+ only, Minors Do Not Interact, slight sub/dom dynamics, mentions of exchanging money for affection/sex, smut, angst that the end.
Summary: Billy enjoys being spoiled by you, until he finds out he's not the only one with his hand in your pocket.
Author's Note: This has been in my drafts for ages and I finally got to a point where I figured I could let it out into the world. I'm super excited to see what everyone thinks!
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For Billy, it all started with an ad in the paper.
Someone living in the affluent part of town was advertising for a "pool technician" of sorts, but only to come out and clean their inground pool once a week. Part of his job as a lifeguard had been helping the guys with preventative maintenance, so he figured he'd make some easy money if he took advantage of it. 
If only he knew.
He planned a day to drive to the listed address, small print at the bottom of the paper reading, "any time after four o'clock". He managed to get Tommy to cover the last few hours of his shift so he could go home and shower before heading over, the wind coming through the open windows of the Camaro drying his damp curls on the way there.
He snorts when he pulls into the driveway. It’s a nice two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac, noticeably set apart from the other homes on the street itself. The sizable garage jutting out on the left had the doors open, a light blue Gremlin parked inside. As Billy walks up to the door, he spots a little white racing stripe on the side.
It looks nice, he muses. Not his style, though.
He's expecting...well, he doesn't know what he's expecting when he walks up to the house. A cookie-cutter type, probably a lawyer or a businessman of some kind, judging by the wealthy neighborhood. Maybe a housewife, someone who'd rather go get a manicure than do any semblance of physical labor...he might have even expected an older couple, or a rich, bratty teenager.
But instead, you're the one that opens the door with a curious smile playing on your lips, and he's taken aback by it. You don't look snobby or pretentious—actually your expression is inviting—and not in the sultry way he's used to.
"Hi," He says before you can speak, looking down at the piece of paper he ripped out and then to the silver house numbers nailed above the little mailbox. "I guess I have the right place, I uh—I saw your ad in the paper and thought I’d stop by."
Your eyes light up in recognition. “Oh, right! I nearly forgot all about it, sorry. Would you maybe wanna come around back and take a look around while we talk?”
He's shocked at your friendliness for a second before he catches himself gaping like a fish, “Uh, yeah, sure. Lead the way.” 
You smile and close the front door behind you, causing him to sidestep to get out of your way. He follows behind you, his eyes on the flowing edge of your white dress that exposes your legs. You’re pretty, he thinks. Pretty enough to probably be someone’s wife, but he can’t see if you’ve got a ring on from this angle. 
As you lead him through a white wooden gate that comes up to his chest, your sandals clicking softly on the stone pavers that are—adorably—in the shape of hearts, he instantly understands why a dutiful husband would pay to keep you from lifting a finger. It would absolutely be a fucking crime.
“Here it is,” You motion towards the pool, which is surprisingly clear save for some stray leaves that are floating along the top. “I used to clean it myself and I’ve got all the nets and stuff in there,” You point to a little green garden shed. “But I’ve been really busy with work lately, and some of my friends like to come over on the weekends to swim. I just don’t see where I can find the time to keep it clean.”
“Doesn’t look too bad,” He muses, hand rubbing his chin as he tries to process the fact that not only did you take care of your own amenities, but you also worked for a living. 
“I work over at the community pool, so this’ll be a piece of cake. I can come over on Fridays, if you want? That’s my off day, plus I can come over when you’re at work—what is it you do?” He tilts his head. 
“Well,” You tuck your hands behind your back, ducking your head as you rock on your heels. “The short answer is I work for a company that helps develop computer software. Nothing very glamorous.” You end your explanation with a chuckle and Billy finds his mouth turning up at the corners in response. 
“Well, I’m not gonna make a fool of myself and pretend I know anything about that,” He shares a laugh with you. “And I just realized I never introduced myself. I’m Billy.” 
He curls his hands around yours as you tell him your name, still feeling the imprint of your fingers long after you let go. 
You exchange some more information, and he puts his foot in his mouth when he double-checks that you want him to come by when you and your husband aren’t home. You laugh it off and relay that you’re single as you give him a key to the pool shed, showing him where the chlorine tablets are in case he needs them. He promises to start next Friday around one o’clock, in time for the weekend get-togethers. 
He develops a routine pretty early on. Before he comes over, he stops and grabs lunch somewhere and brings it over to nibble on while he works. You let him park in the garage next to where the Gremlin—lovingly dubbed Birdy—would be so the Camaro doesn’t stifle in the unforgiving Indiana heat. He learns that you travel a lot for your job, often leaving the house empty, even with your weekend guests, and he hardly ever sees you except for when you come home after work, when he’s done with the pool and on his way out of the yard. Many conversations have been had with his arms resting on top of the fence as he listens to you laugh about some of the crazy things your co-workers get up to during the day. 
One day your friends come after he’s finished cleaning the pool, a whole day early. His heart races when they jokingly ask him if he’s the new boy toy. His confusion and annoyance on your behalf is apparent, though they explain their teasing and tell him that you have a penchant for spoiling people, especially if it’s someone who deserves it. He also learns that you don’t just work for a company that develops software, you run the damn thing.
He thinks about how you’re always gone for work, thinks about the money you leave in an envelope for him every week in the pool shed. It’s more than he would expect for a job as easy as this, but when he’d tried to talk to you about it the first time, you had insisted that you were going to pay him that amount, and there was nothing he could say that would change your mind.
He confronts you about the whole thing the following week, when you take a vacation day for yourself and decide to lay out on a lounge chair and soak up some sun. Your shades hide your eyes from him as he sweeps one of the nets along the pool floor. 
“I just like being good to people,” You explain, tilting your head back as you stretch,  exposing your neck to the sun. Billy finds himself tightening his grip on the plastic handle as he follows the line of your throat, down to your tits. He looks away when you reach over to grab your magazine from the little side table. “It makes me happy to make others happy. And being the lucrative business woman that I am…” 
You peek over your shades and wink at him, making him grin. “I have plenty of money to do that.” 
“But,” He shakes his head in amusement, thinking back to the words your friends said. “They made it sound like—I don’t know, man—they made it sound like you paid guys for their company.” 
Your eyes remain on him after he trails off and lifts the net out of the water, shaking out the leaves and stray bugs, and you only answer him when he returns his gaze back to your face. 
That's something he's still getting used to, you have this strange habit of waiting to speak until you're sure the other person is giving you their undivided attention. He doesn't know if he hates it or appreciates it. . 
"Wasn't just men," You hold eye contact, tone level, like you're expecting him to be disgusted at this piece of information. He isn't, and you go on when he doesn't reply. "And that's a very general way of describing it. I have paid for another person's company…and I've also paid for intimacy. Neither of those things are exclusive." 
You flip through the pages of the magazine, crossing your legs. "And I'm not the only one who does it, either. I know a girl who put herself through college by being a sugar baby. She actually had a contract that stated what she was comfortable with; handholding, cuddling —things like that—but no sex or inappropriate touching. Worked out just fine for her." 
He blinks owlishly at you as he processes your words. “Sugar baby?”
The smirk that spreads across your face makes him think he might have been better off not asking. You look like the cat that ate the canary. 
You delve further into detail for the next hour, and by that point he is both thoroughly weirded out and intrigued at the same time. 
“So…it’s sort of like a friends-with-benefits thing, but with money.”
“Mn, yes and no,” You take a sip of your iced lemonade that you had brought out for the both of you to enjoy. “Remember I said sex isn’t always included.”
“But then you’re basically paying someone to be your—what—your cuddle buddy?” His expression makes you laugh softly. 
“I guess that’s one way to put it. I’ve only done it a few times, kind of just depends on what everyone is comfortable with.”
“Why?” You push your sunglasses up to rest on top of your head, your eyes twinkling with curious mirth. “Are you interested?”
He shrugs, pretending to be indifferent. “You pay me plenty enough already.” 
“That wasn’t what I asked you.” He’s always surprised at how easily you see through him and his posturing. Your intensity stirs something in him, and he finds himself wanting to give in, enjoy your attention, reap the benefits of the money you’re willing to give away. He doesn’t know what’s stopping him anymore, especially now that he sees you as a sort of confident, separate from his regular life. Months of working for you, talking with you and laughing together when you regale him with stories of your career when it was first budding—it all comes to a head at this moment, and he decides to take you up on your offer. 
You talk about it and come up with a number—a high number—one he never would have thought to ask for—and he insists on still taking care of the pool for you, despite your protests. He thinks it’s weird at first. Being able to touch you when he wants, as much as he wants. It’s like having a girlfriend without going through the annoyingly awkward stage of getting to know one another, if his girlfriend also happened to have him on payroll. 
He learns that you’re not opposed to sexual intimacy in these relationships, either, always accommodating the other person by sacrificing your own needs in favor of affection, at the very least. He has no qualms about sex, though. None. At. All. 
Not when you’re squeezing him like a vice, like you are now. 
“Goddammit—” He lets go of your hips as you bounce on his cock at your own pace, hands resting on his pecs for leverage and your head thrown back, little mewls escaping your open mouth. 
“Just like that, baby,” He’s resting against your headboard, the pristine white blankets and sheets piled around the two of you and making for a cool, cozy nest that highlights his golden tan and light curls. “Keep it up, come on, I know you can do it.”
He smacks your ass cheek with one hand, quick and sharp to encourage you when your legs start shaking, your momentum faltering. You whimper at the sting but he soothes it away when he grabs your flesh and makes you stop to rest. 
“Want me to take over?” He pants, not giving you a chance to answer as he leans forward to lick at your nipples, flicking his tongue to coax them into hard buds. Your hands cradle the back of his head as he draws moans from you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
He disorients you for a split second as he rolls you over and lazily rocks his pelvis against you, cock reaching that special little spot that chokes the air from your lungs, never unlatching his mouth—or his dick—from you.
“Oh—” You sigh as your leg muscles relax, though he tucks his arms underneath your knees and practically bends you in half in order to keep fucking you. “So big…so good for me—”
He feels you gush around him after a particularly deep thrust, and he lets go of your nipple with a wet pop to peek up at you. Your brows are scrunched up as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, making him grunt when he feels your pussy spasm around his length. He grits his teeth as he pulls out, hand reaching to wring his own climax out but you beat him to it, though he has no idea how you find his cock so easily with your eyes nearly closed in bliss as you try to catch your breath. But he lets you jerk him off, he likes the feel of your hands better than his own. They’re softer and more delicate—makes him almost feel like he should be ashamed for getting your hands dirty with his sticky spent.
But it also convinces him to go on—the thought of a lady like you fucking with a guy like him—fuck, it always turns him on so fucking much. He could never get this from anyone else. 
He lets out a long, drawn out groan as he comes, bracing his hands on the headboard and letting your palm stroke him just the way he likes, squeezing towards the tip and wringing out every drop you can get. It drips over your stomach in a milky puddle, coating your manicured fingers, and he watches as you bring them up to your mouth, licking the remnants away. You grab his cock again with your other hand, making him jerk from being oversensitive, bringing it to your messy cunt to glide through your folds slowly. Your eyes draw him in as he wordlessly follows your unspoken direction, rocking against you until you slip him back inside unexpectedly, and he shakes. 
“Fuck, wait—” His hands open and close against the headboard, unsure of what to do. He’s never been with someone so insatiable, so willing to keep going if he’ll let them. He simultaneously wants to stop and go on forever, the heady mix of pain and pleasure making him dizzy. He already knows what you want, if the coy, breathless expression on your face is anything to go by. “Y-you gotta give me a minute—”
He’s boneless by the end of the night, can barely lift his head to watch you sashay your cute, bare ass to the bathroom. You glance over your shoulder and ask him if he wants to join you in the shower and even though he’s got nothing left in him to give you, he rolls out of the bed anyway, already craving to have his hands on you again. 
***
He finds that he likes being spoiled. Before you, all he relied on was the money he made from the community pool, and now he only teaches swimming lessons for kids to keep up appearances. You’ve bought him brand new tires for the Camaro, he was able to get his favorite boots resoled—because God knows it’s cheaper to just buy a new pair nowadays—and he spends most of his time at your house, butt ass naked in your huge bed or in your pool. Your little arrangement is nice, all things considered. No strings, no commitments, no jealousy or pressure to settle down…he loves being your sugar baby, loves all the perks it comes with. One of which is your habit of buying him things—men’s jewelry—he would never wear out in Hawkins. 
A foxtail chain that rests on his collarbone, with an inlay of diamonds that sparkle against the gold. A watch that probably cost more that the entire city hall building, and a signet ring with an ‘H’ carved into the center, for Hargrove. He wears the silver one every day because it goes with his other jewelry, but the gold one you had made stays in a special wooden box that has two little drawers—another gift from you—along with his other expensive things. The bottom drawer holds documents that certify all of the pieces as genuine whatever-they’re-made-of, not that he doubted you, but you wanted him to have proof that those things belonged to him if they ever got stolen, or if someone accused him of stealing. 
He likes wearing them for you, loves how your eyes darken with desire when you see the chain hanging from his neck. He thinks he detects a hint of possessiveness in your face when he takes it off, but you don’t say anything to indicate it. 
He also likes it when you wear certain things for him. A deep red dress that his eyes had lingered over when you had brought him on a quick Indianapolis trip. His leather jacket that he leaves out on the counter, despite your half-hearted protests. And he never thought he’d say this, but seeing you in nothing but a strand of pearls as he fucks you from behind and grips your hair that had previously been perfectly done up in a professional updo? That really gets his motor going. 
The only part he hated—and hate felt like too weak of a word—was the fact that you were also being shared. 
By Steve fucking Harrington. Ooh, that fucking pissed him off to no end. His blood boiled whenever he thought about it—thought about how your skin was already tainted by the time he got to you—thought about Steve burying his head in between your legs, fucking you, wringing out your moans in the big house you had all to yourself while he jerked off to the thought of you—
Billy crushes the water bottle in his hand, fuming as he thinks about the conversation you’d had with him when he saw Steve coming out of your house one morning, a weekend bag slung over his shoulder and a grin on his face. Billy had waited until he left, then had stormed into your house, immediately on the prowl. His tone is calm as he talks to you, but as you go about washing the dishes from breakfast, you can see how tense and angry he is. 
“I told you this arrangement wasn’t exclusive.” You remind him as you dry a plate. 
He scoffs. “So how many people are you fucking, then?”
“Just you.” 
“Fucking bull,” He barks. “I just watched Steve Harrington walk out of your house, clearly after you made him breakfast—” He sweeps his hand at the dishes you’re washing and the frying pan that’s still on the stove. “—with the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen on his stupid fucking face—with a fucking bag of clothes—and you want me to believe you didn’t fuck him?”
You throw the towel down and lean against the marble counter, crossing your arms. 
“I have two arrangements, Billy. One with you, and one with Steve—” He chuckles humorlessly and runs a hand over his face, pacing. “—but his is different, don’t you remember me explaining that to you? About how sometimes I just need affection, and not sex?”
His heart drops at that, and he glares at you. “If you wanted more than that—more than what I was giving you—then why didn’t you just say so?”
You open your mouth to defend yourself but he holds up his hand, unwilling to hear it. 
“You know what, I’m not gonna argue about it, I’ll just get my shit from the bedroom and leave.” 
“Billy—”
“Don’t,” He grimaces as he walks towards the stairs. “Just don’t.”
***
Steve feels bad when he finds out about it, but getting you to tell him what was wrong was like pulling teeth. You’d been sitting at your vanity, taking your hair down after your bath with a troubled expression. Normally you’d be talking up a storm, but your silence is deafening as you search your hair for bobby pins, setting them in a little trusty glass tray with the others. 
He watches your face in the mirror, waiting for your eyes to catch his own, but they don’t, so he gets up and comes behind you. You don’t even realize he’s there until he places his hands on your shoulders and neck, thumbs pressing and massaging. You sigh as you take the last pin out and lean your head back, bumping his stomach. He smiles softly at your reflection, and you try to smile as you bring a hand up to cover his own, but he can tell it’s forced. 
“You know you can tell me anything,” He says, playing with your fingers. “Even if we didn’t have this arrangement, you can trust me. I care about you, you know that.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe that’s the problem.” 
“...What do you mean?” He furrows his brow and you stand abruptly, walking past him to the bed. 
“Maybe there’s too many feelings involved in all of this,” You continue bitterly. “Billy found out about you and I, and before you say ‘I told you so’, I know I fucked up. I just don’t know how to fix it. Maybe we’re better off just doing away with all of it.”
He feels sick at the thought of not being able to be there for you in an emotional capacity, like he is now. He doesn’t care about the money, God knows he doesn’t need it—not really. 
“Y-you don’t mean that…do you?” He swallows thickly, kneeling on the bed behind you, afraid to reach out lest you shrug him off. 
You heave a sigh. “I don’t know. I just—” You sniffle and he immediately changes his mind, crawling over to press his chest to your back, arm secured around your body. “I don’t know what to do, Steve.”
He shushes you softly as tears run down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He murmurs into your hair, gently rocking you side to side. “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry."
To be continued...
@nix-rose @writethrough @bookshelf-dust @billlydear @justice4billy @powerofelvis @eddiesdruid @scarletwitchwhore @justice4billiam @nirvana-nikiforov @snorl0ck @andthevillainshallrises @gublerstylesobrien1238 @madneedshelp @sadhours @18lkpeters
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pascaloverx · 14 days
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Sweet Love
Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.
Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and future adult content.
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CHAPTER ONE
You never imagined yourself knocking on Dean Winchester's door. I mean, you don't count having had dreams about him that involved you getting to know each other intimately. But going to his apartment to ask for help wasn't in your plans.
"I need you." You say softly as if telling someone a secret. Maybe your speech sounds like a whisper. Dean's obviously not hearing you properly, because he's humming Livin' On A Prayer as the song plays inside his apartment at full volume.
"What?" Dean says almost shouting as he looks me up and down. He looks confused like he doesn't hear you at all. You then decide to do something. You approach Dean almost seductively and say close to his ear that he won't regret it if he turns down the volume.
"Does your sister know you're here trying to get me into bed?" Dean asks as he turns off the music that was playing. Nothing against Bon Jovi, but seeing Dean turn off the sound for thinking he's going to sleep with you kind of lifts your spirits.
"If I were going to let you fuck me, I wouldn't ask my sister's opinion. I don't think you ask Sam's opinion when you decide to have sex." You speak while still standing, hoping that Dean will notice that he is only in his underwear and change into more decent clothes.
"You come over to my house, make me turn off my music and now I've suggested that I ask my brother if I can have sex. This conversation seems better by the minute." Dean speaks clearly enjoying this moment. You end up looking at his body from top to bottom but as soon as he notices, you turn to face the door.
"I need your help." You say while avoiding looking at Dean. He might have noticed, since he put on some pants. Not that you watched him put it on.
"With what?" Dean asks as you turn to face him. He put on his pants but is still shirtless. But now is not the time for you to notice these things. Even though his body is...
"I need to write steamy scenes in my book. But I just can't do it. It's like I can't think of anything sexy and I need to get this book published soon." The words coming out of your mouth don't seem to fully fit together. I mean, what is wrong with you that you would look to Dean Winchester for help?
"And what do I gain? Helping you will take up a lot of my free time, you know..." He seems too convinced, as if his ego could fill the air in the entire apartment.
"Free time? You mean wasted time. You've been living off your rich mother for I don't know how long. And I intend to pay you for the consultancy." You say everything with a certain pretentiousness in your tone of voice. Somehow, Dean Winchester brought out the worst in you.
"Do you think that just because I have a rich mother my life is easy?" Dean says, getting even closer to you, getting so close that you could smell his perfume invade your nostrils. In fact, Dean Winchester smells like men's perfume and sex.
"I think. Maybe it's not the easiest thing for you but it seems easy. So do it as an personal fulfillment, do it for the money, do it to show your mother that you are more than her son." You say feeling a heavy conscience as you realize that maybe you were rude to Dean, maybe even a little unfair.
"Nice attempt to manipulate me. I'm going to deny the offer and urgently ask you to leave my apartment. I'm accompanied and my visitor should be waiting for me in the room. So there's less you want to insult me ​​more or join me and my visit, I suggest you go to your apartment." Dean looks offended, maybe a little irritated. You look at him a little regretfully.
"I'm sorry if I seemed rude. But I would really like your help and I'm willing to give you whatever you want." You say, desperately trying to appeal to the side you know exists within Dean. He might not even notice, but claiming you're willing to give him whatever he wants is just a lure to make him interested. At least that's what you tell yourself. But it doesn't seem to work, he closes the door just as you're about to cross the hallway that separates his apartment from your sister's. What a disaster, now you'll have to stop being a writer and move on to a new field. You can't live forever with your sister.
"Be in my apartment later. Let's start working on your book. And I'll decide what I get for the help I'm giving you. As you said yourself, you'll give me whatever I want." Dean says as he opens the door to his apartment while you open the door to your sister's apartment. You immediately turn around and hug him. Without any explanation, your first instinct was to run into his arms. And you only realize how strange that is when you see the half-naked woman coming out of Dean's bedroom and staring at the two of you hugging at the door.
"See you later, buddy." You say, giving Dean Winchester a slightly friendly punch on the arm so that his visitor doesn't find it so bizarre for him to be hugging you at the door. He looks at you as if you've lost your mind, and then you quickly leave, entering your sister's apartment, hoping that the partnership with Dean Winchester is a good idea.
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awhimproned · 7 months
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you don't understand guillermo and his arc
have i got your attention?
hello, my name is nia, and welcome to me opening a blog solely for the sake of yelling into the void my analysis/meta of the haha hehe silly vampire show.
Small introduction/index right before beginning:
Spoilers for s5 finale!
Re-framing of what wwdits is really about and setting the record straight as what to expect and what not to be angry about.
Discussing how Guillermo's arc of letting go of his vampirism isn't, in fact, a let down or a missed opportunity and quite the opposite, is in character for him, in line with his character arc, and wasn't "all for nothing".
Long ass post (not exaggerating), so click "read more" and buckle up. Here we go.
I have to start this by reiterating that first and foremost, this is a batshit insane comedy show with batshit insane, morally bankrupt (yet endearing) and complex characters. It's not interested in telling a story or a plot, it's not interested in being pretentiously deep, and I say that for the people who can't really come to terms with the format and that the show is going nowhere, because it's not supposed to be going anywhere, it's just the daily lives of vampires and their little adventures and sometimes struggles. In a weird way, it's slice of life.
This show isn't like Good Omens or Our Flag Means Death in which you're concerned with an overarching plot. Even season 4 and 5 seem to look like it has an overarching plot, the term you're looking for is contained theme of the season. It's like "villain of the week" format. Only for the seasons. S1 we had the baron, s2 we had vampire slayer guillermo, s3 we had the vampire council, s4 we had nadja's night club, s5 we had vampire guillermo -- and these are just very broad summaries.
There ISNT an overarching plot, it's the character arcs that are starting to pick up, which guillermo's is the strongest and most reoccurring.
It's episodic even when there's a theme and plot of a season, and it's meant to be bite-sized and contained and followable. Someone who doesn't know this show can watch one episode from season one and one from season three and it wouldn't be that jarring depending on the episodes, like, the cast were able to answer "what episodes would you recommend to someone who hasn't watched the show" on the tumblr live ask.
The writers and the producers of wwdits are concerned with making you laugh, exploring how insane and unexpected places they can take things with a cast of vampires of the past who haven't quite adapted to the modern times and are devoid of common sense and knowledge most of the time in a mockumentary style. Yes, you know this already, I know, it looks like I'm being patronizing or condescending.
But do you know, really? I'm talking to a certain demographic, so please don't take this personally.
What most of these people consider dropping the show over, like the reasons "nothing changes" or "things go back to the usual and it's getting old" or "they throw ideas away" or "serious stuff gets brushed over so quickly" don't consider that these are often done on purpose.
Half because of the format and that the documentary crew can't be there all the time to capture every little thing and character moments you are naturally given in a normal TV show/movie, and half because it's one of the core themes of the show, that nothing ever really changes and these are centuries old vampires who are so closed off to change. That's the thing. That's what it's all about and that's where all the jokes are stemming from.
In a normal comedy show, you might perhaps see the characters being unhinged together, but you would also get to see their most private and vulnerable moments, (like maybe brooklynn 99), and you take that as granted, it's sometimes spoon-fed through cinematography and what's purposefully caught in camera per director and writer choices.
wwdits follows a very clear show-don't-tell narrative of characters putting on a front for the cameras, and you have to read between the lines more often than not to figure out these unreliable narrators, otherwise you might miss some things and take it at face value.
one example of this in my opinion is the relation between laszlo, baby colin robinson, the bastard children he doesn't like to talk about and the baby he turned into a vampire. the latter is very much played as a joke, the bastards are throw away line by nadja, but when you take baby colin into the picture and how happy it made laszlo to be a father (no matter how questionable), how (questionably) amazing he was at it, and how losing baby colin robinson downright made him grieve and mourn (like. he abandoned nadja to look after this child), you get a clearer picture as to why laszlo might have made a baby into a vampire and why he doesn't like to talk about the children he's fathered. maybe it's because he wanted to be a parent at one point, maybe with a vampire baby he could have a child who wouldn't die. it seems deeper than it was at first glance, the complexity is hidden beneath the layers of vampires being funny assholes.
other times you have to not overthink it and learn to accept some things are purely for shits and giggles. no matter how many levels of fucked up they are on. it's literally no use discussing the morality or how wrong things are. and on a framework such as this, the running gag being characters being left somewhere when their plot-relevance is over (benjy, jim the vampire, derek, the hybrid creatures etc.) shouldn't come off as surprising or lazy writing. because that's it, that's the joke.
This isn't to say this is a get out of the jail free card for not having progression or development.
I'm just saying that the vampires getting into shenanigans and everything being okay in the end despite all the drama is the status quo, and if you're going to have a problem with "sunrise sunset" and are so impatient with the theme of change being explored at a slow pace, then this show is not for you.
You are perfectly welcome to be frustrated with everything resetting, but you also have to know this is what you signed up for. The show is both trying to tell you something using this storytelling device to navigate the inherent cycle of stagnated repetition of the vampires' lives AND showing you that things ARE changing at the end of every season, bit by bit.
It's entirely on you that you don't notice and/or care it wasn't in the way you wanted it to be.
Like what they did with Guillermo.
The consensus of the arguments I've seen on this site consist of:
they finally made him a vampire and took it away from him and it was for nothing
it wasn't explored enough and well-enough
it breaks canon for him to be so squeamish about killing when he's been committing atrocities the whole show and it's a lazy reason to turn him back
nothing came of it. it ruins his character
he should have stayed a vampire it's what he wanted and deserved all along
it doesn't make sense with the narrative, they are writing him so differently now like he suddenly doesnt want to be a vampire? his character arc peaked in s3
First question: have we been watching the same show?
I'm going to walk you through this step by step for analysis sake, bear with me.
Who is Guillermo de la Cruz at the beginning of the show?
He is a fucking loser.
He is a pushover, has no confidence, deep down he's become so twisted from all the resentment and spite built up from being so overlooked, underappreciated and being cast aside. He has no life, he pays to live there as a familiar, his entire life is dedicated to Nandor, he's so tiny, has no presence.
And we establish his main motivation and want: to become a vampire.
But why does he want to be a vampire? Antonio Banderas in Interview with a Vampire. This apparently "inspired Guillermo because he had never seen another Hispanic person onscreen as a vampire". Yes, he projected and self-inserted to Armand, yes we know.
When you look closer, you'll pretty soon understands he craves the power he'll receive once he becomes a vampire. He'll become cooler, "sexier" (like he says that he doesn't feel any sexier when he became a vampire), nobody can look down on him, he can finally be someone, leave the old, pitiful Guillermo behind, it's all he's betting on. He doesn't want to grapple with his problems, the sexuality he represses, the Catholic guilt; he wholeheartedly assumes he'll just be a new person once he becomes a vampire, and for that, he'll do anything. He doesn't want to be a vampire, he wants to be a new, burden-free, hot-girl-eternal summer Guillermo who will demand respect just by existing.
Vampirism is the get out of the jail free card for him. The easy way out of his flaws and insecurities.
There's something called character's want vs. need in writing. What a character wants may not always be what they need. This is perfectly portrayed with Guillermo. Becoming a vampire isn't necessarily what he needs.
What he needs is making peace with himself, growing, acceptance, love, establishing confidence, finding his power -- self-growth.
the problem is he thinks vampirism will automatically give these to him. it couldn't be farther from the truth. this is a typical case of thinking the grass is greener on the other side.
So, naturally, discovering he's a vampire slayer is ruining everything for Guillermo, setting him up against the vampires whom he's trying to be a part of, to be accepted and loved by. It's threatening his found family.
Even though it's the most competent, confident, sexiest, and in element he's ever been in his life. It's what he's best at, when he's doubting himself the least, when he shines the most, the abilities come to him from within.
And he can't allow himself to embrace it. He still thinks vampirism will give him what being a Van Helsing is already giving him. He's gaining his footing, sticking it to the vamps who don't appreciate him where they deserve it, standing up for himself, being sassy and cunty, opening up, GROWING.
Yet he doesn't see it.
He believes he'll be whole once he becomes a vampire. You see him benefit so much from the van helsing genes but not once does he embrace it or actually celebrate his identity, embrace himself and who he is when it's what made him bloom in the first place. HE DOESN'T SEE IT.
He wants to renounce being a vampire slayer. He says it in season 5 to the baron. He full on wants to give up what makes him, him.
Hell, the symbolism of being a vampire slayer getting in the way of his transformation by fighting off the vampirism is so ironic and symbolic at the same time:
He can't find his true self and what his heart truly wants and needs if he doesn't give up the idea of being a fucking vampire. His true self has been within all along.
Guillermo's arc didn't peak in s3, it wasn't even close to being completed, because he hasn't found himself yet, he hasn't accepted himself yet. He hates being a vampire slayer deep down for setting him against the vampires and what he wants to become. Yes, he went through tremendous growth. He was powerful, he gained agency. But it was because THE POWERS VAN HELSING DNA GAVE HIM ON A SILVER PLATE. It wasn't that he accepted it. It wasn't that he found a sense of self in it.
He just got a preview of what he could become, is all. It made him think he was ready to become a vampire. He would never choose to stay a human/vampire slayer before the events of s5, it's always been about the endgame for him.
And it's so sad because Nandor is like. So stoked about vampire slayer Guillermo. He's so proud and giddy about him "being a warrior" because he knows Guillermo better than anyone and just when and how he's at his best. It's just that Guillermo doesn't see it and Nandor does. Just like how he knows Guillermo wasn't ready to become a vampire and how hard he would really take to actually killing people.
In retrospective, season 5 was about things we want not really being the things we thing we want.
They show that guillermo has gained the things he's wanted -- the love and friendship of the vampires and them deeply caring for him, thinking of him as family just in the way he thinks of them as, their respect, and he didn't need to be a vampire to get that. He already has the power he craves deep down.
He doesn't see it. He's not aware of any of it, he's so laser-focused to what he wants that he hasn't figured out how to handle the ugly side of vampirism, he hasn't even thought of it -- because he doesn't see any bad in being a vampire. He's so enticed by the power, the promise of sexiness and transformation and so blissfully ignorant by what he has to do to survive from being on clockwork in doing the dirty work for the vamps.
And precisely because of that hey show that guillermo wasn't ready to be a vampire -- yet. Because how can he be ready when he hasn't even figured himself out yet? When it's painfully obvious what he really wants isnt being a vampire but something he desires on a more emotional needs level?
And the most glaring point of this is how brutal and bloody his transformation was. It wasn't how he imagined or wanted it to be. He just wanted to be a vampire, and right off the bat everything went wrong.
He wanted it to be Nandor. He wanted it to be earned. He wanted it to be poetic, sexy and climactic.
Instead it was miserable and horrifying, the biggest shame to a vampire, and he had to keep it a secret to save his own life and nandor's -- hell, he wasn't even a full vampire, nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. When everything was supposed to change. (Catch the theme?)
And the thing he's happy about? The itty bitty powers he slowly starts to gain. Nothing else about vampirism is doing it for him. The raw meat craving, for one. He even cringes when he's drinking the blood Nandor gives him.
He only really wants the powers. He even goes on a little power trip when he fully turns. He's on a brief high until it comes to feeding.
And then the reality fully sinks in.
Guillermo has to come to terms with having to harm people if he wants to be a vampire. It's not the same as leading people to their deaths, he can't take the moral high ground by making the excuse he's not the one doing the killing or anything, vampires have their victims and he just handles the aftermath. Hypocritical? You bet your ass it is. Guillermo is considerate and horrible at the same time. That's what being complex is about.
Sure, there are ways such as not fully draining and just drinking his fill, but he isn't ready for tackling those topics yet. Vampirism was about becoming a new person for him up until that point, not having to drink blood to survive.
And figuring out that no, if he's given the choice, he wants to stay human has to be more devastating and earth-shattering for him.
Because everything he's worked for in the past 14 years, now, is up in the air for Guillermo. What does this mean for him, when will he go from there, is he still going to be a familiar, can he still stay with the vamps?
What does being a vampire mean to him now that his entire sense of self and future he'd built upon it is gone?
Here's what Yana Groskaya has to say about it:
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This is one of the core themes of season 6.
In a sense, they've taken Guillermo's one and only hyperfixation away that was limiting his character. They've opened him up to new explorations.
He has to consider what being a van helsing could mean to him now that he can fully face his real self and there isn't a time limit to brush it under the rug so he can fully focus on becoming a vampire.
He has to face himself, learn about himself, go out more, discover himself better.
This also in a way is a direct parallel to Nandor in Season 3, and it's an interesting thing that it was Nandor who helped Guillermo to realize what he really wanted.
This wasn't "all for nothing" - it was a major beat in Guillermo's arc. To face what he naively and childishly wanted to "fix" himself had to be considered more seriously:
Nandor going "This is what I was waiting for" when Guillermo beat him in their fight in season 3 means SO MUCH MORE in this context.
Guillermo, in his BEST, having all the power, going all in on Nandor, seemed ready, as a slayer, he didn't hesitate to fight, harm, or throw hands, he could handle vampires and vampirism, and Nandor saw him fit. THIS was what he was waiting for. "You are alive because I let you live" and full on proving that statement. That he wasn't afraid to kill. For Guillermo to be ready in his soul, and it was his vampire slayer identity readied him. He had it in him all this time.
But in season 5, he has renounced it. He SAYS he has renounced it to be a vampire.
He has to embrace that part of himself to be truly ready.
Him becoming a vampire at this point in his life was so wrong on so many levels, they showed that Nandor would know when it was the right moment and he would do so right by Guillermo, and showed that really, what you think you want isn't actually what you want/need.
So no, this was bound to happen eventually, and an entire season dedicated to it was amazing in my opinion. Amazing things are coming for Guillermo, please don't be discouraged.
Thank you for reading this far.
I also want to write a Nandermo analysis at one point because I'm more passionate than ever and so excited (i loved what this season did with them), but we shall see!
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deadbydangit · 2 months
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helloooooo!!!
i wanted to request something if you dont mind :)
how do you think the killers (of your choice) would react to string tricks? like a survivor that specializes on doing very fun tricks with strings?
if this is very confusing, sorry 😅
thanks!
I'm not too sure what string tricks are, but I do know of yo-yo tricks. I can write about that. I hope that's an okay substitute. Please enjoy.
With a reader who could do yo-yo tricks: Mastermind, Hillbilly, Huntress
Mastermind
A yo-yo?
"Aren't you a bit old for that?"
"That seems rather childish."
Don't let Wesker's pretentious talking discourage you from doing what you love.
Just because he finds it childish doesn't mean he'll make you stop.
He wishes you would spend time learning something more useful.
Alas, he will not complain about it.
"Well, I suppose it promotes good hand eye coordination."
"Very well dearheart. If it makes you that happy."
People outright tell you to leave him alone, but he isn't too interested in your tricks.
Again, it just isn't something that's practical.
"Why don't you practice something useful. Like using a gun or learning the chemical formulas I'm studying?"
His idea of fun and your idea of fun may be totally different.
However, he does enjoy seeing the look on your face when you're practicing.
You have this child-like innocence that he finds irresistible and adorable.
Like, for that moment, you're able to ignore all the horrible awful things in the world.
Like you're able to focus on only the good and pure things.
He actually finds himself rather jealous.
During times when he feels like everything is hopeless he'll often come and watch you.
It gives him a sense of hope that he had otherwise thought he had lost.
"Dearheart, would you please show me that trick where the yo-yo goes over your head? I enjoy that one."
Even if he finds the talent ridiculous, he loves seeing the joy on your face.
Hillbilly
"What's that?"
Max has never seen one before.
Maybe on tv, but never in real life.
He was deprived of all those fun things a normal child would have.
Even doing the most basic thing with the yo-yo Max finds amazing.
So when you show him tricks?
He's in awe.
Like he had seen a unicorn or something.
"Again!"
You'll hear that at least five more times after you've done a trick.
He can't help it.
The person he loves the most doing such amazing things?
"It's magic!"
You'll have to explain to Max that, no, it isn't magic.
He wants to try!
You can try and teach him, but he'll usually end up hitting himself in the face trying to do some elaborate trick.
He's easily discouraged because he has been told his whole life that he was useless.
But don't let him give up. Make sure you show him the basics and do so slowly.
He'll pick it up eventually.
And when he does, you better believe he'll be showing you the trick about 50 times.
Even if it's just making the yo-yo go up and down like normal.
He's really trying hard to impress you, so make sure you praise him a lot.
Huntress
Like Max, Anna will also be in awe.
However, she knows that it isn't magic.
She does think it's some sort of weapon though.
She had never seen a yo-yo before.
She'll want to try out this new and unique 'weapon' of yours.
You're going to have to explain to her that no, it isn't a weapon.
That it's a hobby; a toy you could learn tricks with.
To her, anything could be used as a weapon. But she won't break your favorite toy by trying to use it as a weapon.
She knows doing something like that would hurt you. It would be like someone breaking her mask.
As someone who has practiced the art of throwing hatchets meticulously, she appreciates the time and effort you've put into learning the yo-yo.
Even if it doesn't do any damage, she's still really impressed by you.
She might want to try it.
Make sure you show her how to hold it properly and the correct strength to use.
We all know how strong Anna is and how unaware she is of that strength.
She might accidentally yank the string so hard the yo-yo part comes off.
If that's happened she'll be devastated and crying, begging for your forgiveness.
Asure her that you aren't upset.
You'll just have to teach her to be a little more careful.
She's a fast learner, she picks up on things very quickly.
And, with her axe throwing skills, she's able to learn the yo-yo even faster.
She claims the wrist flicking motions are very similar.
Once she gets good enough, try and find her own yo-yo.
Because she'll be playing with it all the time.
And, when she has her own, she'll get to play with you.
To her, that's the best part about it.
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fallingforel · 9 months
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heyyyy!!! how are you? :) could you do prompt 53 with Alex turner please ?🫶🏼
A/N hey my lovely I'm good thank you for asking of course I can and here it is on with the showww Idk what it is about Paris and my alex prompts but it's another one where they're in paris. sorry it's short I was struggling a bit.
PROMPT 53: “I’ll keep you safe.”
words: 1,192
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It was a hectic day for me I didn't stop, this morning Alex was gone for soundcheck waking up to an empty bunk on the tour bus so I decided to go and sight see keeping my mind off of him because I'm an ultimate worrier that something happened to the ones I love the most.
After sight seeing I went and got some lunch racking up some hunger as I hadn't had breakfast either we were in paris at the minute so I went to a sweet little cafe with a view of the eiffel tower and ate outside as the weather was nice too.
Then after lunch I made my way to meet Amelie a friend who I hadn't seen in years, she had moved out here after uni after a lack of PR jobs available and we had both got so wrapped up in our lives that we didn't have time to see eachother but she was free too so it felt right to see her.
"Y/n how are you sweet?" Amelie exclaimed as soon as she saw me come into view running straight up to hug me. "I'm good! I'm good!" I say reciprocating the hug. "What are you doing in paris mon cheri? surely you've not moved here." She asks breaking the hug now just holding a grasp on my shoulders. "No! No! I haven't moved out here, just visiting." I say concealing the truth. "Well! we must go shopping then go out tonight. There's a concert I'm going to tonight, they're big! You'd love it. You're not here on your own are you? Being a girl out here on her own can't be easy." she asks. "No, I'm not out here on my own. I'm actually with my boyfriend and his friends." "Invite them! We could do with the extra hands to hold our bags" "errr... It's not that easy Am, they would probably be down to go out tonight though, just not to the concert, maybe after?" I say once again concealing the truth that my boyfriend is in a big band, and they're performing in a stadium tonight, the concert she's going to. And the fact that they'd be bombarded by fans, if they were to just wander the streets with us.
"Why isn't it that easy" "errr well you see, my boyfriends in a band, they're touring at the minute, that's why I'm in paris." "Oh. You mean YOU'RE the girlfriend all the arctic monkeys fans are talking about" "shush shush. no need to shout. But yes, yes I am." "Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me Y/n, this is huge news. First you have a boyfriend, next you're like in with a famous circle. You'll have to introduce me to him because he clearly means a lot to you, I remember when we were in Uni and you said you'd never date a famous person. He clearly must be special"
"Alex and I don't like to say he's famous makes him too pretentious, he heard us talking one time on the phone and thought you sounded pretentious" "It's what the paris lifestyle does to you, It makes you pretentious, everyone here is. too glam for my liking" "that's what I said"
"yeah, well you'd be right, I'm missing the U.k" "You'll have to come to sheffield with us, It'll humble you so much. Might be the break you're looking for, we'll be back that way in a few months." "I wish I could but emille needs me here, to look after the house, he's away too much and we're not rich enough to afford housekeepers." "Fuck Emille you know he's not good for you" "Yeah, I know. I'm leaving him when he comes back next month I caught him cheating, I'm just waiting for an apartment to come available" "Oh! come back to the UK live with me in London, My apartment is rarely ever used since I'm always with Alex, Rent will be super cheap aswell. PR jobs are super available now, I know the whole reason you moved out here was the amount of PR jobs that weren't available, but I've been looking for myself ones that I can work from home on due to being on tour with Alex and Theres tonnes available," "really?" "really Am!" "oh you are such a doll. I love you" "I know. but seriously, I'm gonna be back home in a few months I'll stay with you for a few months make sure you're settled and you know the area and then I'm off again" "I appreciate you so much thank you"
"No worries, come see Alex with me?" "Absolutely, wouldn't dream of not coming. Let's go shopping for some outfits for tonight" "let's hop to it" ⋆。°✩
We shopped for a few hours before returning back to her flat and we got changed before heading out to the stadium in a Taxi. "où les filles?" (where to girls) the taxi driver asked "stade de france s'il vous plait" (stadium of france please) I replied making amelie laugh "what?" "nothing, You've changed I wasn't even aware you could speak french and you sound so different in french a lot less than your scouse accent." "well, Alex has been teaching me french, we've decided we're residing here when he's finished with tour, and People change Amelie" "yeah well it suits you." "thank you" I said looking at her with a smile on my face.
It doesn't take that long until we're there and I'm running around the back to go see Alex. "Y/N, BABE!!!" Alex shouts waving to me "Alex, I missed you, this is Amelie. My bestfriend from Uni, she lives here" "Thats nice, ravi de vous rencontrer, je suis le petit ami d'Alex Y/ns, à quoi ça ressemble de vivre ici ?" (nice to meet you I'm alex Y/ns boyfriend, whats it like living here?) "Oh no, I can speak english, I'm not fully french. Nice to meet you too though, I've heard a lot of great things about you from Y/n, and it's okay makes you a bit too pretentious though" Amelie says shaking Alex's hand when he offers it. "Yeah, told her a lot about you. She's just been cheated on so she's moving into my apartment when we get back to england. I'll stay there with her for a few months or weeks depends on how long she takes to get settled, then we're moving in together." Alex just nods along to what I say, I think he's just too buzzed about going on stage to care right now.
"come on Amelie I'll take you to get a drink and then to the bus to get some merch" I say "I'll come with you two too." Alex says grabbing my hand with me stepping to my left, while Amelie is on my right.
We get to the bar and all of a sudden there is crowds around us, making my claustrophobia highten. And Alex just squeezes my hand tighter pulls me into his chest and whispers in my ear "Dont worry darling, I'll keep you safe, I've got you"
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galaxysharks · 8 months
Text
Shout out to Madison for being the kind of ex that skips angry jealousy and jumps directly into being the best/worst wingman.
Like they see through your bullshit but they also know all your secrets.
Aka: oh God the gf and the ex are talking......and it's definitely about me....
Aka: a war on two fronts.
Ex.
At Maddox and Jet's apartment
Madison: sooo, Ash, what'd you do to make the first move?
Ashlyn: how do you know I made the first move? Maybe in between being a boss on set Maddox created an elaborate scheme to woo me.
Madison: Please, Gadget initiating a date? Ms. Woman of the Woods is a workaholic princess, and a big scaredy cat.
Ashlyn: ....Princess?
Madison: Urban Dictionary, I'll give you $20 to look up that definition right here.
Maddox: yo Mad? How's this for Princess? Get out of my house!
Madison: oh come on Mad, I'm just teasing. You're cute when you're flustered. Am I right though? Was Ashlyn the one who made the first move.
Maddox: ..... technically you were....
Madison: Me?! You mean the Balloons? Girl we've been broken up since before Halloween! Were you at least planning something for her?
Maddox:...….....
Madison: Gadget
Maddox: I was a little busy meeting the exacting demands of a hyper-artistic and pretentious director, thank you!
Ashlyn: wait a minute..... Before Halloween? But you picked up her phone on college outreach day!
Madison: yeah well, the last time Maddie got the flu, she overworked herself until it changed into a severe cast of pneumonia and she had to spend the rest of the summer in the medical cabin. I live like an hour and a half out from here, so I figured I would bring some soup and keep her from dying or drowning herself trying to shower. I thought you were calling to check up on her.
Ashlyn: No! I WAS CALLING TO ASK HER OUT!
Madison: See! You even though we might still be together at that point! Now that's initiative!
Maddox: I hate this......
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miaoqing · 2 months
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what (western) astrological sign do we thing SY is/was .... it looks as if september 21st is widely considered to be his birthday but according to the wiki it's actually the day he died? i guess it is technically his re-birth-day but transmigration didn't reset his personality soo does it really count? 🫣
to be fair, him being a virgo would make sense; virgos are known for being smart, responsible, hard-working, and self-sacrificing (according to co-star). all of this sounds pretty accurate imo.
HOWEVER. that man HAS to have a fire sign somewhere in there.
i'm thinking something like leo moon? "their emotional self is dramatic, proud, expressive, idealistic, and somewhat self-centered."
i feel like these traits make sense when you consider his actions and his character in general; he is definitely very dramatic, everything he says is basically just one big hyperbole. he is proud in a very stubborn way, he refuses to accept that he might have been wrong. this also ties in with him being self-centered, that is, he firmly believes that eveything is how he thinks it should be; like the way he was absolutely certain that LBH wanted to kill him to the point where he didn't even consider any other option.
his rising is a bit harder to pinpoint, but i'm thinking maybe aquarius; "they come across as broadminded, intellectual, and prone to abstraction, though somewhat detached or abrupt in their dealings with the real world. Their unconventional interests may seem eccentric or pretentious to others."
he is obviously very intellectual (he basically memorized AND made sense of the entirety of PIDW, + took over the SCHOLARLY peak without anyone noticing) and broadminded (like in his opinions about demons), except when it is something he has already made up his mind about. he is definitely detached from reality in the real world; he calls himself a "dispirited pretty boy sitting around waiting to die". in the svsss world, too, especially at first when he still sees everyone around him as just fictional characters. this is the one i'm most unsure about though.
pls tell me what you think <3
(also, SJ is definitely a scorpio)
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Drakenier: Violence as expression and affirmation - Pt.1
It has become a rather well-known piece of trivia (or at least, well-known within the niche internet circles I flow through) that 2010's Nier Replicant / Gestalt had its overall message thoroughly inspired by well, 9/11 - the discourse that produced it, that came of it, and became it. Although it may not be a direct quote, "to kill someone, you don't have to be out of your mind, you just need to believe you are correct" is a sentiment clearly echoed throughout the game; as the many layers of its central and side conflicts drop alongside the curtains to its second, third (and maybe kind of fourth) playthrough, so does what had, for quite a ways into the game, seemed like a story mostly about finding, nurturing and protecting a community - people to call home.
However, the statement above seems to somewhat conceal-so-as-to-merely-hint-at what I'd argue is a much more complex argument the games lay forth, when looked at as one series. I, myself, have found it difficult in the past to distill both Replicant and the wider series as a whole into one coherent message or thematic frame; partly (and beautifully), because there mustn't be one - this singular reading which eclipses the broad range of experiences that people have come to share with the series - such an idea is preposterously reductive. Still, I think that this mish-mash of "the game is about philosophy and tragedy and nihilism and existentialism and society and humanity and life" and whatnot misses a bit of where the different themes intersect, producing further instances of meaning from the text. I hope to discuss the evolution (were I to sound even more pretentious, I might have used the word genealogy, but I would never stoop to that) of a few central concepts surrounding drakenier's "philosophy of violence" and where they seem to have informed or have been informed by other aspects of the works.
Strap in, because just from writing the introduction I can already tell this is gonna have to come in multiple parts. Hopefully my writing can steer away from boring you to tears throughout all of it.
Spoilers for the whole series!
Part 1: Replicant, and the subjective experience gained from that funky 9/11 fun fact
"Blood is sound, sound is words, and words are power"
This quote, almost a chant from Weiss as the player starts to grasp the gameplay loop of attacking enemies to allow for magical attacks, ties in the game's teaching of that system with what I consider to be the most powerful writing from Replicant (I'm going to refer to it as Replicant for the sake of convenience, obviously Gestalt is included in that). And it is deeply tied to what Taro himself has credited as a major source of inspiration for Replicant in relation to his previous game, Drakengard.
In some ways, Nier Replicant isn't introducing a new, foreign idea over the original Drakengard, so much as bringing out new elements from within its predecessors' critiques of the gaming landscape. Though that only really becomes clear by taking future foresights the series would reach into account; this is the point at which it becomes prudent to ask ourselves one question - how might the game's design regulate the player's interaction with the game world? (A question that, if you're at all even familiar with Drakengard, you probably already know the answer to)
From this, we can extrapolate a lot of meaning from how the original Drakengard was conceived: a game about violence, from the perspective of people who were so immersed in their own awfulness and the general precarity of their world that they cannot enact anything but that same violence. And it is that violence which comes to define them.
I'd also like to do the pedantic thing and bring up the fact that violence can be thought of as more than just physical harm, but also in terms of violation. In that sense, when I claim that Drakengard's characters are defined by violence, I mean it in that their reduction of other people to objects serves as an exertion of themselves - the Dynasty Warriors inspired combat of cleansing battlefields as the only win state reflects back at Caim as his only method of building an identity of his own, one based on strength demonstrated from conquering his enemies. You might find that these 'enemies' are violated the moment they're placed into the game as props that sustain its overall narrative.
In fact, this 'loss of personhood as self-affirmation' theme reverberates into another key factor of the game's story: pacts. They explicitly deprive humans of something of themselves - their ability to communicate, to see, to age, to have hair (sure????) -, and reduces both parties into one shared essence, yet it is what permits its characters to have strength through which they find themselves as able to inflict that dehumanization onto others. Dehumanization becomes their characterization, both from the audience's perspective as well as in-world.
Following that, Nier Replicant does not dispute that destruction of the other simultaneously inflicts upon the self both corruption and affirmation. If anything, it only takes measures to strengthen that sentiment, in light of how the added theme of perspective brings forth a need to now more closely study the subjective experience of perpetrating violence. Thus:
"Blood is sound, sound is words, and words are power"
The gameplay system I've anchored this analysis to comes into play; attacking your enemies gives you the literal strength to continue your offense, by design - ridding them of their life force, their blood, perpetuates the narrative, the words being built, the sealed verses of a prophecy you've set for yourself: that of being a hero to your sister/daughter, friends and general community. This even extends to the lyrics of Ashes of Dreams:
"Are we the plaything of fiends or merely the dreams that we're telling ourselves?"
Though we shouldn't forget that Weiss' comment takes the form of X=Y=Z=W, and it seems I've neglected the 'sound' part of the sentence. As I was writing this, my brain immediately made the association between that and Drakengard 3's focus on the power of Song, which, in fairness, definitely was made with the rest of the series in mind - but, in this instance, that sounds like a bit of a lucky coincidence. Still, what the concept of sound brings to the statement doesn't seem too far off from what meaning could be made at a bit more of a general, rudimentary level, that being: our lifeforce (blood) translates into our ability to be heard (sound), thus effectively giving us narratives about the world around us (words), which gives our actions direction, purpose (power).
From that, we can take a closer look into a lot of different aspects of the game. After all, the reason I proclaimed this piece of writing to be so powerful isn't really because I could - and did - stretch its interpretation to its fullest, but also from the way it manifests itself around the struggles of various characters, while being tied to the game's overall systems and world. Emil receding into his identity as a weapon in order to redirect what he sees as his curse onto those who seek to harm his friends - leading to his sacrifice; Weiss, who also goes on to sacrifice himself, does so in the name of putting an end to this now 5-year mission, grown into his own center of existence; Louise, perhaps reacting to the world around her, saw humanity as something to claim from others, and faced erasure upon perceiving herself as incapable of acquiring it. For better or for worse, the moral codes characters create from their own intentions of living become rigid scripts to follow as self-fulfilling prophecies of their own identities.
We can see that, ultimately, characters across both games tend to follow journeys with a general structure of: bleak circumstances > feeling of powerlessness > violence as a misguided means of reclaiming the power to define oneself > entrenchment in violence becomes overbearing, coming to annihilate the very self which sought to instigate it. From the first Drakengard to the first Nier, this hasn't changed a bit. What changed is a distinct awareness in how the self, or what we might call "us" stands in conflict with the generalized other, "them", and where it uses morality as a catalyst for smoothing out the uncomfortable edges of that conflict.
In fact, the annihilation of the self as, paradoxically, an act of self-affirmation is the very core of ending D for Replicant. And this is, partly, where the inciting 9/11 quote comes into play - given our newfound empathetic understanding of where violence comes from, how do we process it? How do we make sense of it? From the way the world is established, the very act of surviving, for both replicants and gestalts, is somewhat tainted as immoral, and predicated on the erasure of an 'other'. It leaves room for later material to find itself more at ease with this question (and those circle back nicely to ending E from the new version, as well). For now, most of what the game feels comfortable in concluding comes from Kainé, who stands in contrast with most characters by fully rejecting the notion of being a moral agent throughout the entire story, yet the game still offers us the chance to save her - it, mirroring the protagonist, relentlessly believes in her. Not even that "she can be better", whatever better might mean, just that "she can be".
And obviously, finally, we can extrapolate plenty of social commentary from this. Playing off of the thematic material introduced in Automata, we could argue that Replicant's plot is, in retrospect, about slowly building up to the depiction of a certain "Death of God" - which, in nietzschean terms, is not merely society straying from religiosity, but represents an irreparable shattering in the very idea of a centralizing narrative that everyone could subscribe to and fit within. So ends humanity, not just as a species, but as a concept; no longer are people able to identify themselves as containing some unified essence of 'humanity', recognizing the other as a complete self in its own right, as they retreat into the violence that was inflicted against them, which they inflict back at the world - to have your totality reduced to a role in a play that the winner gets to write. And in that sense, I'd argue it captures specific facets of a post-9/11 climate pretty well.
Anyway, gonna make a separate post that's just about Drakengard 3, and then one that's just about Automata, but at a later time!
also, this thesis becomes more relevant when the time comes to analyze automata, but it was still helpful in having me think through the previous games, so I'll drop it here as a reference for now, and will mention it more loudly once we come to specific sections later (not about to be the next target for hbomberguy lmao): http://dspace.library.uvic.ca/handle/1828/14525
Cool that there are people writing about it!! Thank you Xinlyu Tan, the goat!!! Would love to go through more material, but I'm writing this for fun on the side... hope anyone reading this has enough fun with it to go looking for more on their own, go extend the discussion further, blah blah blah. Also hope that I make any sort of vaguely coherent point. And, lastly, I hope you enjoy yourself!
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veliseraptor · 2 months
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January Reading Recap
Thousand Autumns: vol. 3 by Meng Xi Shi. This book is - I don't want to say growing on me because it was never not one I was enjoying, but it certainly got interesting in a new way in this volume. The shift in the relationship between Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao feels like an important one, even if it doesn't last, and the glimpses at a background for Yan Wushi not elaborated upon certainly have me intrigued.
I have the whole epub of the fan translation for this one and might end up just reading it through to the end without waiting for the official translation volumes to come out (though I'll probably read those too, because I like reading more than one translation where I can).
Conspirituality: How New Age Conspiracies Became a Health Threat by Derek Beres, Matthrew Remski, and Julian Walker. Sometimes you read a book on a really interesting subject and it just kind of makes you want to read a better book on that subject. Based on a podcast of the same name, this book was...fine? But it remained relatively shallow, and heavy on the examples rather than the analysis. It was more of a survey of instances where health and wellness/conspiracy thinking intersect than it felt like it was taking a deep look at where and why those intersections happen. It was interesting, and I learned some things, certainly, but it didn't quite dig as deep as I wanted to go.
In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. What a fascinating piece of work. I don't have a whole lot of coherent things to say, except that I don't read a lot of memoir and I'm glad I read this one. I think I liked it better than I liked Machado's short story collection - certainly it was doing very interesting things with form and style in a narrative built loosely on the skeleton of a memoir. It's funny, because I could see myself finding the conceit here irritating or pretentious, but for whatever reason I think the vulnerability of the project undercut that aspect for me.
Dead Country by Max Gladstone. Mostly this book reminded me that I really want to reread the Craft Sequence, so I started doing that. Calling this an intro to that world feels weird - it doesn't really feel like an entry-point to me, despite the fact that it's being marketed that way - but perhaps that's me with the benefit of having read the other books but slightly too long ago to clearly remember them. (Hence the reread.)
Based on my vague recollections I remember liking his other books better than this one, but that's me comparing some books I really liked to one that I enjoyed but wasn't blown away by. But I'm still coming back to read the next one in this series, so I can't speak too harshly of it.
Faraway Wanderers by Priest. I really enjoyed this one! I love the way that Priest writes banter/interplay between two characters, and she definitely has a thing for people who are equally fucked up being fucked up together that I appreciate. Another thing to appreciate about this one is how (relatively speaking) tight it is - there's not a whole lot of wandering, despite the title, and the plot keeps moving in a pretty linear direction from start to finish. I love my longass cnovels with multiple arcs, but it was a little refreshing to read one this contained. It's not in my upper echelons of danmei I've read so far, because it doesn't hit my favorite tropes quite as hard, but I'm glad I finally got around to reading it.
Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh. Probably wins my favorite book I read last month challenge. The ending got a little deus ex machina for my taste, strictly speaking, but not so much that it ruined my experience - and I genuinely enjoyed the refreshing experience of reading a book that was digging into some messy shit in a way that I found satisfying. I felt like some of the character development could've used more breathing room/space, but maybe I'm just picky about that, and the propulsive pace did keep me reading this one so fast I think I finished it in two days.
This is really petty but I also appreciated the author's willingness to have the protagonist/narrator be not the picture of good progressive politics. It allowed room for the, you know, development, and in the current genre climate I don't take it for granted.
Spin Dictators: The Changing Face of Tyranny in the 21st Century by Sergei Guriev and Daniel Treisman. I don't quite know what I feel about this one. The basic argument Guriev and Treisman are making is that dictators have changed strategies in the 21st century from what they call "dictatorships of fear" to "dictatorships of spin." I think the main critique I came out of it with has to do with the authors drawing too stark a line between their dictatorship "types" and not necessarily acknowledging that a leader can move between them, or use elements of more than one "type" in different places. Like any binary, it obscures fuzziness of categories and potential overlap in favor of trying to make clear distinctions. This is particularly visible in the way that their writing about Putin feels dated just from the initial 2022 publication date.
There were a couple other things that struck me as weird (I suspect the authors might be a bit to the right of me, and there's at least a whiff of classism about their characterization of "the informed" as a class of people); on the whole it felt worth reading but also like a book I want to talk to someone else about to help process my thoughts.
Lords of Uncreation by Adrian Tchaikovsky. I love Tchaikovsky's work, and this conclusion to the Final Architecture series is no exception to that. And that's all, she wrote.
Shigidi and the Brass Head of Obalufon by Wole Talabi. I wanted to like this book more than I did - not that I didn't like it, but there's so much interesting stuff going on that it felt like didn't quite add up to a greater whole. A solid three star read, though, in the sense of "I'm glad I read it, and if someone else mentioned they were reading it I would probably provide my favorable impression, but I'm not going to go out of my way to recommend it to others."
There's definitely sequel bait at the end, though, and I probably will read the sequel if/when it appears. I'm intrigued enough, and the setting/worldbuilding is different enough - to get me that far.
--
I'm currently rereading Three Parts Dead by Max Gladstone (Dead Country made me do it) but have We Are Satellites by Sarah Pinsker proximately on my list for a book club; I'm on a bit of a fiction kick looking at The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler, He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan, The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang, and Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer as possible next-ups as well. I'll get back to my long, long nonfiction to-read list eventually. (in the meantime I've got my long, long, long fiction to-read list.)
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sapphic-agent · 3 months
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Ranking MHA Arcs
Vs. Hero Killer Stain: A 9/10 arc. It had great tension, character development, character interaction, and villain. The friendship between Iida, Izuku, and Todoroki felt 10x more genuine than it ever did with Bakugou. The only thing I would change is maybe make Tensei not so virtuous. Maybe he made mistakes in the past or contributed to toxic hero society in some way. Perfect way to develop both Iida and Izuku
Shie Hassaikai: Again, just a great arc. Great villain and tension and love how the LOV are involved but aren't the current enemy. I love Mirio and his sacrifice for Eri was done perfectly, and him rejecting OFA made me love him even more. One of the only arcs where anyone cared about how Izuku was doing (love Iida and Todo forever). The only reason I'm putting it at #2 is Nighteye being a pretentious prick who pissed me off the whole time.
Battle Trial: One of the only arcs where Bakugou's actions aren't depicted as okay. Also calls out his behavior by making him lose because of it. Izuku's actions are recognized wholly, both what he did wrong and what he did right. Back when Momo was analytical and sharp. Also, evil Iida kills me every time. Just a pretty solid arc overall, good balance of tension and humor. There's only one thing I hate and it's that Izuku felt so guilty that he told Bakugou that he inherited his quirk
Meta Liberation: The only saving grace of season 5. The LOV was so well-written and Shigaraki's progression into a leader was so well done. I would have made it top three if it wasn't for Shigaraki's autonomy immediately being taken away by him wanting AFO. Kind of ruined the whole point of the arc
Entrance Exam: I had to make it top 5. It perfectly captures what made early MHA so great. It's so inspirational to everyone whose dreams have ever been discouraged. Some things could have been handled better which is why it isn't higher, but in general I love it
Sports Festival: I've talked about what I do and don't like about the Sports Festival before. There were a lot of good and bad things about it. Uraraka and Todoroki had great development, Izuku's and Tokoyamk's were okay, and Momo's was terrible. But what really keeps it out of the top 5 is the Bakugou pandering. It's the first arc that really starts to do this and it really ruins what could have been a really good arc
Hideout Raid: Again, the only reason this isn't higher is because it's so centered around Bakugou. If it wasn't just an arc pandering to him and his "development," it'd be a lot better. But I'm putting it at 7 because of the awesome fight between All Might and AFO. Easily one of the best in the series. And how that saved Bakugou was pretty damn cool ngl
UA School Festival: Gentle Criminal is tied for my favorite MHA villain with Stain. Not only is he relatable as fuck, his quirk is so unique. He was just so enjoyable. The festival was cute, though I felt as though this arc could have focused more on Eri's trauma. It's great that the festival was something for her to look forward to, but there could have been more done here. Also, Aizawa blaming his students for the other students being resentful and making them take accountability. Also, Bakugou being good at the drums for no reason
Paranormal Liberation War: As far as major arcs this one is okay. I feel like some parts of it were too drawn out, but it wasn't terrible. I liked Dabi exposing Endeavor, and Mirko chasing down Garaki like a bat out of hell was funny. Hawks' fight with Twice was also very impactful. BUT it also felt like a lot of the pros were useless. Like, Mount Lady struggling so much with Gigantomachia felt odd. She should have been more effective imo. I also wasn't a fan of how Midnight died in the manga, that felt unnecessarily brutal
USJ: This arc does a great job of introducing Shigaraki... And not much else. Like, I don't think it's bad at all, but it was a little boring. It does get points though for Tsu casually drowning Mineta, little moments like this make it watchable
Quirk Apprehension Test: The only reason this arc isn't lower is because of Izuku proving that he belongs at UA as much as anyone else. That was a great moment for him. But the QAT is quirkist and honestly just mean-spirited. Why would you humiliate a student in front of their classmates like that? Not to mention that Aizawa was blatantly singling him out with it. Just the beginning of Aizawa being a bad teacher
Provisional Hero License Exam: I struggled where to put this arc. Because honestly? It was good for the most part. I liked seeing how the kids each handled their tasks and opponents. Bakugou failed (I know I've said that this is undercut by Todo failing too, but it's still satisfying) and it really got into the nuances of rescue work. I liked it... Until Deku vs Kacchan Part 2. This fight ruins the entire arc for me. Bakugou fails because he couldn't stop being a dick for 2 seconds and decides he's allowed to take it out on Izuku? Then he trauma dumps on him while playing victim. And then coerces him into a fight. And then is rewarded from throwing this temper tantrum by being given what he wants (knowing about OFA). This was the arc where my feelings towards the series really soured. I really debated putting it at the bottom, but I didn't want to dismiss the good things about it so easily
Forest Training Camp: Only good thing about this arc was Izuku's fight with Muscular and his relationship with Kota. But after that it's Bakugou making bad decisions and everyone else having to suffer for them. I do appreciate Kota slapping Mineta though
Dark Hero: Just... So much potential. But it feels like we never really go below the surface with Izuku. This is supposed to be his arc and it barely focused on who he is. He should have spoken with the vestiges more. Also, while I can understand where they were coming from, 1A ambushing and then antagonizing him was terrible and Bakugou's bum ass apology was even worse. The only reason it isn't lower is because of my unhinged love for Lady Nagant. She's one of the best written characters in the series and I adore her. Unfortunately, it feels like Hori doesn't allow her to influence the overall story
Pro Hero: So this one is just... Weird. I mean, I don't think I hate it? The fight was pretty cool. I love seeing Hawks' quirk in action because his use of it is so creative. I don't like him and Rei being used to prop Endeavor's development though. I just don't think this arc was that good
Joint Training: So I mentioned this in a reply somewhere, but Bakugou's flawless win felt so unearned. He hasn't put any work into getting along with others and working with a team (all the "progress" he made was others- Izuku- doing the work for him). The fact that he didn't so much as struggle like everyone else was just bad writing. Momo losing even though she did put in the work to learn to strategize better and cover her bases just felt like a slap in the face to her character. Every time it feels like Hori wants to do right by her character, he ends up making it worse but had no problem propping Bakugou up every five minutes. I liked Uraraka being the unsung star of this arc, Monoma's team underestimating her and then living to regret it was nice. It's one of the only times the progress she's made as a hero is ever acknowledged. This arc didn't do a good job of making me care about Shinsou though, no substance to his character. Monoma was pretty entertaining
Endeavor Agency: Boring ass arc. It wasn't funny or entertaining and had zero character development for our main characters. Natsuo is antagonized for calling out Endeavor and poor Fuyumi gets yelled at by Bakugou in her own home for sharing her feelings. And then Izuku's bs "i tHiNk YOurE geTtINg REaDy tO fOrGiVE hiM." Like I love him but wtf is that line? Hori trying to force Endeavor's redemption down our throats
Final Exams: This arc is all kinds of bullshit. Sero takes a hit for Mineta and is incapacitated and fails. Yet Bakugou is continuously uncooperative, attacks him teammate, and is also incapacitated and passes? Not to mention it's all on Izuku to be the one to teach him how to work with others when that's supposed to be Aizawa's job. Every other match was also useless. The only one that has real development and interaction was Tododoki and Momo. Todo gets humbled and learns to stop acting above his classmates (even if he didn't do this with the intent of being harmful, he still did it) and Momo gets more confidence and agency. But no one else really learned anything or improved. This arc just proves how bad a teacher Aizawa is tbh
Remedial Course: I feel like this arc is evidence that Bakugou would suck as the main character. I was bored to tears during the entire thing. It felt like forced Bakugou and Todoroki interaction first of all. And truth be told I didn't know that kid was supposed to be mini Bakugou, I thought he was representative of Monoma. He was nowhere as bad as Bakugou was as a kid and felt a lot more chill. Also looked more like Monoma. Idk if this is how Hori wants us to see kid Bakugou or what but we know this isn't how he was. And then Bakugou gives him this whole lecture only to turn around the next arc and still treat Izuku like shit. Fucking hypocrite. Camie telling him to shut up was the only good thing about this arc (stan Camie)
And that's the list! I'm only doing these arcs because they're the only ones I've read/watched completely. I don't want to make judgements about the next three arcs without fully knowing what I'm talking about. Though the leaks for the Final War don't bode well for its ranking.
So what do we think? Agree? Disagree? Let me know!
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