#somehow he’s the most up his own ass that’s possible but it comes so naturally that he doesn’t even realise it

[voxphantasma]

absolutely obsessed

[IMAGE ID’S: six consecutive screenshots from ted lasso season 3 episode 3. ted and zava are in the locker room (speaking to the team). in the first screenshot ted is in the middle of the shot and zava is walking to stand in front of him, in the second zava is completely covering ted. in the third ted has moved slightly to the left, and in the fourth zava has moved to stand in front of him again. in the fifth ted has moved to the right, and in the sixth zava has once again moved to stand in front of him. zava does not seem to be doing this on purpose.]

[froggibus]

Camping Headcanons - Batboys + Wally West

Includes: Dick Grayson x gn! reader, Jason Todd x gn! reader, Tim Drake x gn! reader, Wally West x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, mild crack

Summary: spend a weekend away from the city camping with your boyfriend

CW: batboys have peak survival skills, Wally is very Wally, lots of classic camping fun

this is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

Dick Grayson:

prefers to camp somewhere off the grid

loves traditional camping and is not at all opposed to just…sleeping on the floor of a tent

can almost definitely set up a tent in two seconds flat—even the jumbo ones that are supposed to take two people to set up

definitely helps that he’s flexible 

if there was a medal for best at camping, he’d probably win it

it's almost annoying how on point his survival instincts are

he can spearfish and does it just to show off

can cook pretty much anything over a fire but if it were up to him he’d just eat soup, burgers & hotdogs the whole weekend

packs 12 pairs of underwear for a weekend of camping

also has insane packing skills, like he could pack 2 weeks worth of supplies in one backpack

even if its not sunny, he WILL somehow tan just from being outside

Jason Todd:

also likes camping off the grid

unlike Dick, he probably prefers sleeping in a trailer or a cabin if he can help it

It’s not that he’s against sleeping in a tent or anything 

but he’s spent so much time sleeping on the hard ground/freezing his ass off that if he can afford the extra comfort, he’ll spring for it

so much more relaxed when you’re camping—it’s almost like he’s a different person

brings about a dozen books to read for like, three days of camping

if you weren’t with him he’d probably read them all too

even if you’re staying in a place with a stove, he INSISTS on cooking stuff over the campfire

a really good campfire cook too—he’ll make you some insane salmon & the most golden toasty s'mores for dessert

dork ass loves telling you scary ghost stories with a flashlight under his chin and everything

all so that you’ll cuddle closer to him that night

lets you wear his comfy clothes and his jacket if it’s cold outside and claims he ‘doesn’t get cold’

Tim Drake:

hard to convince him to leave Gotham for the weekend (mr weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders)

threaten to go camping by yourself and suddenly he’ll never leave your side

only camped at fancy resorts/nice cabins before Bruce

really enjoys being off the grid and being self sustaining though

loves those “cooking in nature” tiktoks and probably wants to try them for himself

doesn’t care where he sleeps as long as it has walls—but for you, he’ll get the warmest, comfiest tent or cabin possible

is weirdly prepared for almost any situation AND knows all of your cravings before you even have them

“I really wish we had strawberry marshmallows to make smores with”

“check my green backpack”

brings lots of different card games and WILL beat you at all of them before the trip is over

bring your own secret deck of Uno and watch him have a meltdown wondering how you could possibly have so many +4s

somehow knows exactly what went down with everyone while you were away

Wally West:

he’s like a kid again (as if he ever grew up let’s be fr) 

already has muscle pains from running around so much so at the very least he’s getting the comfiest air mattress ever

but most likely he’ll want to stay in a cozy cabin way off the grid 

with him, no campsite is too far or too remote

cannot cook for shit but will grill you the best burgers and hot dogs ever 

cannot roast s’mores for shit either 

they WILL catch fire and be completely crispy 

offer him one of yours PLEASE

“nah babe, I just really like them like this” 

liar. 

loves loves LOVES campfire cuddles and uses every reason under the sun to cozy up with you

tries to tell scary stories (that he stole from Dick who stole them from Bruce) but ends up freaking both of you out

has to do at least one (1) vigorous activity every day or he’ll be bouncing off the walls all night

has a secret never ending stash of candy on him & shares them with you

packs exactly two pairs of underwear for the entire weekend & is completely unprepared 

however if you forget or need anything else it is a CRIME and he will go get it for you 

manages to stretch a three day camping trip into a week

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | DC Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[hazelfoureyes]

Hi sorry if this is a weird ask but my birthday is the 24th and I would love it if I could wake up that morning to both Lucifer and Alastor absolutely ravishing reader. Just pure smut and aftercare please

I did fem reader I hope that’s okay, it’s who I write the most so I thought maybe you just wanted what I commonly wrote. sorry it’s a little late, and also shhh it’s a secret because I can’t write birthday stories for everyone due to time. But you were the first to ask and you asked so far in advance so—

Surprise!

「warnings/promises: Alastor x FemReader x Lucifer, smut, barely a plot, tug of war, you are the rope, slight kink with breath play and restraint, attempt at aftercare, lost balloons, mention of dead deer (roadkill)」

🎂 Minors please no 🎉 🎈 this an an 18+ only party 🥂

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when the typically reserved Alastor now (seemingly) tipsy invited you to his room. He was always touchy, but the more he drink the longer his hands would stay on you. So naturally you said nothing at all and followed him out of the parlor.

And you had no idea what to think when the King of Hell saw you being pulled by the wrist and stopped you both.

There was some bickering about where you were going and what Alastor thought he was doing. The overlord making a joke about height and size. The former angel mentioning experience. 

Soon both wrists were being held but by different demons.

Ripping you apart seemed like a possibility, but somehow you ended up in an even more difficult situation to accept than second death.

Both refusing to go to the other’s room you were dragged to your own. 

Arguing around you, you were moved and turned before Lucifer snapped his fingers and your clothes fell off you at the seams. You turned to see both men nude and slowly leading you to bed. No complaints, you enjoyed just following their directions.

You couldn’t be sure how they came to their final agreement but soon you were lying on top of Alastor, impressive cock rubbing against your clit and a large portion of your lower stomach as Lucifer was fucking you from behind. The way he angled did feel practiced, so the king of lies wasn’t bluffing earlier.

Alastor's body was so warm under yours, the leaking of his precum spreading across your skin with every thrust from Luci’s hips. Your swollen clit and wet lips were sliding up and down Alastor’s base, stroking him harshly as you had no power over the movement.

“Good girl,” Lucifer’s hands roamed down your body, “Let me hear your voice.”

You could barely speak, the feeling of Luci’s large cockhead dragging along your walls was keeping your mouth busy with moans.

Another surprise, Alastor’s arms coming up and wrapping around you tightly. Any space between you was gone. With your body immobilized except for where your hips moved as you were pierced by Lucifer, Alastor began to hump up against you for the chase of release. The faster he moved, the louder and more uncontrolled your noises became.

“Stop being selfish, roadkill.” A yank of your hips pulling you a little too harshly down on Lucifer, ass flush with his crotch. A small scream into the radio demon’s chest.

“Now those are pretty sounds.” Alastor said through gritted teeth, ignoring the devil entirely.

Another tug of war, but not with your wrists. One man’s hands on your waist holding you still so he could rut into your soft flesh. The other man’s hands on your hips so he could bring to meet every thrust into your now dripping cunt. 

“Ffuuuck,” Luci clamored on top of you, hips pistoning down like an animal with a singular unmet need. “Gonna cum.”

Why did he feel the need to tell you? You could feel him already pulsing as he pressed against your cervix. Yet the words alone sent a shot of electricity to your lap.

As Lucifer’s hips slowed, Alastor took the opportunity to regain control. It wasn’t clear if he knew how good it felt when he rubbed against you. You clenched around the still stiff and twitching cock buried in you and focused on the increasingly wet slip of Alastor’s shaft over your swollen clit. The pressure of Lucifer’s body weight pressing you down added a new level of arousal you hadn’t felt before, the feeling of being held down, of your breath being restricted just in the slightest. Quickly you found yourself reaching a breaking point, a small mountain you barely made it to the crest of before Alastor came across your stomach and his own, your chest not escaping the impressive shot. The small movements of his hips afterwards and the feeling of him cumming so much pushed you over the cliff and into your own orgasm. 

Lucifer hissed above you, “Woah, that’s— you’re gonna make me cum again if you keep squeezing like that.” With a pat to your ass he pulled out and dismounted. Your shakey arms you lifted yourself off of Alastor, who was already holding a towel and wiping his chest clean. He was muttering to himself about something, his face screwed up at the sight. When you fell face down back onto the bed Lucifer crawled over Alastor to sit just below the swell of your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back. A groan, a mix of pleasured massage and painful bullying of sore muscles.

He was shoved off of you, Alastor rolling you over gingerly to wipe at your stomach and attempt to get your blanket clean as well.

“Definitely worth the brief nudity, dear.” His usual smile soft, you were confident it was a compliment.

Lucifer popped up again, a jack in the box of human proportions, “You’re an ass.” He reached for you hand and rubbed circles into your palms as he spread out the often used muscles there. “Feeling okay?” You nodded, a chill coming over you.

Alastor’s turn now, a green glow and a snap and you found yourself clothed again. Not your clothes, but you didn’t particularly care. Alastor was back to his usual attire, but for some reason Lucifer remained stark naked except his large hat. Had it been there the entire time?

Before you could find the will to ask, the doors burst open with a loud blaring honk of an air horn, “SURPRISE!” The hotel staff and star resident cheered, “HAPPY BIR-,”

“What in the actual the fuck.” Angel pointed at the obvious.

“Dad!”

“Nah I’m out.” Husk let the balloons float to the ceiling and left.

Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched with not-at-all hidden aggravation, “What the fuck, you were supposed to trick her into going to the library Alastor! We were waiting for like 30 minutes! Pendejo.” 

Alastor shrugged, “Eh I had a better idea.”

A loud noise above you, a kazoo having appeared in Lucifer’s mouth. His hands shot up with an exhausted excitement, “Happy Birthday!”

why do I love writing reader being walked in on??

[acoazlove]

After Starfall

Azriel x reader

Summary: After starfall with your family is perfect.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff

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Loud giggles filled the room, mixing with the quiet music.

Drink in hand while dancing with Mor. The aftermath of watching Starfall was far better than the show itself. Being with your family, the people who have been through so much to get to this point of happiness, made it far more breathtaking and heartwarming.

Mor somehow always managed to get you to your feet during this time, despite always starting the night telling her, ’Not this year.’ But she still manages to get you up anyway—probably because of the alcohol.

So here you are, you and Mor, drinks sloshing precariously close to the edge of your glasses, laughing, spinning, and tripping over each other. Dresses swaying with every step, smiles never leaving your faces.

Amidst it all, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. The eyes that belonged to the love of your life. His attentive nature, always making sure you’re safe and okay, and maybe also admiring his beautiful mate.

Azriel hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. When you had put on your dress—the same color as his siphons—he contemplated skipping the festivities to rip it off you and devour you then and there. But you were far too excited to notice the change in your mate's scent, so he decided he could wait till after.

Much to his brothers’ annoyance, he couldn’t keep a conversation going for more than a few seconds. Your laughter bouncing off the walls always managing to pull his gaze back to you.

A loud, overly dramatic huff was heard from beside him, drawing Azriel’s focus over to his left, where Cassian had a furrow between his brows. “Did you not hear me?” he asks incredulously. A snort comes from his right: “He’s too busy stalking his mate.” Rhys teases, while swirling his drink, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Always one to stir the pot.

Azriel’s face scrunched imperceptibly upon hearing that, “I was not stalking her.” He all but spat the word back at him, “I was watching her.” A bark of laughter left Cassian, “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“You don’t even know where Nesta is.” Az threw back at him. An offended noise left his brother at that, and a grumbled remark, that caused a chuckle to leave Rhys. But Azriel didn’t hear since he was already out of his seat, making his way over to you.

Babbling drunken nonsense with Mor as she spun you for probably the fourth time in the last two minutes, which caused you to stumble back a few steps, hitting what felt like a brick wall. As you turned around, your smile threatened to split your face in two when you comprehended that it was in fact your mate and not a brick wall.

Whether you realized you had sent your excitement and joy down the bond or not, it still caused his heart to skip a beat. His own dimpled grin grew in response.

”Azriel!” You threw yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around you. The rumble from his laugh was felt from your face smooshed into his chest. “Hi, Angel.” The term of endearment in his deep, husky voice made you feel all fluttery, so you pulled away to get a better look at him.

You yourself had hardly been able to keep your hands and hungry gaze off of him the first half of the night. The silky black shirt, buttoned down so you could see his toned, tattooed chest, the black dress pants that hugged his ass just right, and his onyx hair pushed back a little, compared to his usual tussled curls that fell across his forehead. He looked delicious. So much so that you felt a little drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

A low laugh left him as he angled your chin to meet his gaze. Eyes, the most gorgeous combination of gold and green. “Can I steal you for a dance?” Your smile grew if that was even possible. “Uh-huh.” was your only reply, as you grabbed his hand.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to signal that you were going to go dance with Azriel, but instead you managed to catch a glimpse of a stumbling Mor making her way over to Feyre. You escorted your mate out onto the balcony for a little more privacy.

As you got in position, it came naturally: a scarred hand pressing into your lower back, pulling you in close, your hand on his silk-covered shoulder, and your other hands clasping together.

Tonight wasn’t like all those times you had to waltz around the hewn city, acting like you couldn’t stand one another, faking so much hatred that became nearly unbearable. No, tonight was just the two of you swaying back and forth. About the love you shared and all those years of pining after one another before you bit the bullet and finally confessed those feelings.

Your head slumped forward, ear resting right over your lover's heart, the rhythm the best music one could ask for. Warmth and adoration being sent down the bond on both sides. This part of the holiday was the best, even if Mor teases you for it.

Eyes flutter close as his night-chilled mist and cedar scent fills your nose. “You smell good.” Words subtly slurred from the alcohol you consumed. A huff of laughter exited through Azriel’s nose, and he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as a reply. “You look stunning, my love.” His voice like liquid honey, a shiver running up your spine in response.

Pulling your head back to look up at him, smile growing once again, eyes now heavy lidded. “I love you.” words barely above a whisper. His molten, golden gaze softened. “I love you too, Angel.”

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and a contented sigh leaves you as his lips meet yours in a slow kiss. Your own hands trailing up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck.

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a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This idea popped into my head a couple of days ago, so I thought I might give it a go. I hope you liked it! <3

[lookingformoondrop]

ok but Can you image the total shit show it’d be if reader somehow rizzed up BOTH Andrew and Ashley?? 😨 literally preying. Like imagine reader is not necessarily popular, but they definetly are one of the most attractive people in the class if not the most

Andrew Graves x Reader x Ashley Graves

TW: Some nasty cat fights between the Graves siblings, everyone has a potty mouth, mentions of unaliving eachother, not proofread, reader just wanted a cookie.

♥︎Notes: This was actually so fun to write. I always love writing arguments between my two favorite assholes and watching it burn from there. Enjoy this messy headcannon and sorry it took so long<3.♥︎

Someone call the police, ain't no one coming out of this alive.

First, we gotta start with how you rizzed up the siblings. Starting with Andrew,

I can already see that to get through Andrew's heart, you gotta be funny.

Yes I know that this brooding son of a bitch is dressed in only dark colors, but he values some humor and I feel like the way through his heart is that.

You were in class chatting with a classmate near Andrew's desk when the classmate brought up your history teacher. Uptight, strict, and a prick, you said, "If he berates me anymore for my red pen, his head will go so far up his ass he'll find his own bullshit."

Unexpectedly, both of you heard a snort. Searching for the source, you saw Andrew covering his mouth with his hand, horrified by the sound he had just made.

You smiled at him and brushed off the snort to the classmate, "I think we're hearing things."

That truly made his heart flutter.

He had started sitting closer to you after that. Whenever he got ready in the mornings for school, an extra step in his routine was to hope that you were coming too.

"Hey Andrew," you walked by Andrew's desk.

"Y -Y/N! Hi..." Andrew mentally cussed himself our for the stutter.

It was dumb...really dumb.

But it made Andrew smile and feel giddy when he walked home.

I feel like Andrew would be very tame when it came to his feelings for the reader.

He'd blush when you're around and check in with you to make sure you're okay. He'd be too embarrassed to actually ask you out, but he would definitely try to find excuses to hang around you.

Now, the only natural explanation for Ashley's involvement with you would be that she saw her brother with a dumbass grin one day and HAD to investigate.

So, how did you rizz up Ashley?

Well, it's simple, really,

She went to your house to get a clear look at you and saw you dancing through the window,

You were fun and disgustingly too kind.

("Idiot")

But somehow, that fun energy intrigued Ashley. You would smile at her randomly when she corssed the street. You had no idea who she was, and yet that smile irked Ashley (in a somehow pleasant way).

"Hey guys!" She cheerfully entered the classroom doorway, a spring in her step.

Andrew turned to look at the voice and immediately felt a muscle in his forehead twitch. "Great," he thought, "another one of Ashley's ploys so that she can harass any woman out of my life."

You, of course, were baffled at seeing this girl suddenly love up on you, but judging by Andrew's murderous smile towards her, you figured they were related somehow.

But instead of Ashley being an ass towards the reader, she began to cling to their arm.

This began a looooong sequence of events where it would go one of the following ways,

You'd go to a spot around town, invite one of the Graves siblings, and no matter how secluded, isolated, unknown, or illegal said spot was, the other Graves sibling would find and join you.

This definitely opens the possibility of more intense sibling fights.

I say intense, but it's more like,

"SAY HER NAME ONE MORE TIME ASHLEY AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"DO IT ANDY, DO IT, I DARE YOU. WHAT WOULD MY Y/N THINK ABOUT A MURDERER, YOU FUCKFACE!"

The fights would get so loud that the neighbors would call the police

By the time the police came to knock at the door, Ashley was pulling Andrew's hair and trying to put him in the washing machine, while Andrew was clawing at Ashley's face and trying to smack her head against said machine.

When Andrew (and for some reason) Ashley came to school, you were startled by how banged up both of them became. Still, when you asked about it, all they did was brush you off (and stomp on each other's toes when you weren't looking).

While they did loath each other for trying to steal Y/N from one another, they never doubted the protection they felt they owed to Y/N.

Some random classmate decided to hit on you and make you verryyyy uncomfy. When you recounted the tale to Andrew, he refused to leave you alone for weeks, constantly fantasizing about bashing the guys face in.

ASHLEY ON THE OTHER HAND would absolutely demolish any shithead who tried hitting on you. "They needed to be punished!" Is the last thing she said, and the last time you ever saw that classmate.

Was it risky? Yes. Did Andrew scold her for it? Yes. Did either one of them regret it? Hell no.

Overall, the entire relationship is a complete shit show. And even if you begged them to play nice, they'd still fight over you.

"Ashley, can you help me? I can't reach that cookie jar."

Ashley sprung up from her seat. "Sure thing, N/M~" But just as Ashley was going to reach for the jar, Andrew pushed her into a pile of trash bags in the kitchen and proceeded to grab the jar for you.

"Here you go, Y/N," Andrew smiled at you while you panicked on who to check in with first.

Suddenly, from the pile of trashbags came, "Andrew, you ass!"

Fight or flight kicked in, and you immediately bolted out of their kitchen. Having remembered plenty of their fights, you decided that for today, you were perfect content with just going home. That was enough Graves for today...

"ASS-KISSER!"

"BROWN-NOSER!"

Yeah, that was plenty of Graves for today.

Thank you for the ask!<3

[novasdarling]

Is soft Uvo and Feitan possible??

ok good question... see the thing is what is soft? Cause their idea of soft probably is vastly different than yours or the normal population. They're both mass murderers, but that doesn't always mean it passes into their relationships. They can be semi-normal and not scare the shit out of you... mostly *side eyes Feitan*

Tw: Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of Pain/Hurting Reader, Mentions of Kidnapping, Sex, Noncon

Uvo is naturally rough around the edges...well he's just all rough edges tbh. He's loud, too strong for his own good, and is always physical with someone he cares about. BUT that doesn't mean he can't have a limit. That he can't understand you aren't like him or his other "friends". You're different. Different in how you make him feel and how strong you are. If he isn't careful he could kill you so easily. So he holds back. Is more gentle with touches. Even when being rough in bed, he still is holding back. Listening, waiting to hear the safe word in case he's gone too far. Perhaps it's cause he cares so much about you, or perhaps it's cause if he hurts you too much you'll be on bed rest for a while and he can't fuck you. Probably 50%/50%.

Now when it comes to being sweet and soft with emotions and gestures. Well, he's still odd about it. Yeah, he knows people like flowers, but theirs so many to choose from and you just get sad when they die. So instead, he'll help you plant a garden. Build you a raised garden bed. Help carry and pour those heavy bags of soil. He'll even bring you new plants to plant every so often.

When you're out in public, Uvo will always have a hand on you. Though he prefers having it rest on the small of your back(somehow always making it down to your ass without fail) or on the back of your neck when he feels like he needs to guide you in a crowded place. It's possessive and helpful. He likes to remind other's your his when he's forced to be around the general public. Having a cute little thing on his arm helps him put up with being around "lesser" folks. Helps him be so willing to go shopping with you. Especially if he can sneak a peak when you're in the dressing room.

Uvo also enjoys stealing things for you. Cute little gifts from his missions. Stuffed animals, an outfit he's dying to see you, jewels that would cost a fortune. He likes to spoil you, see you in things he picked out, that he gave you. It sets this possessive and demanding fire in him. Makes him giddy like a kid on Christmas. You're his number one treasure, so you should get the finest things he can steal.

He's big on physical affection, touches, kisses, and back rubs. He'll do anything to get his hands on you. Even if the occasion would deem it inappropriate. He doesn't give a damn, everyone can watch as he feels you up for all he cares. They can watch as he fucks you on the picnic blanket in the park if you'd let him. Just let him touch you, he's dying to. He'll whine and beg like a lovesick puppy. It's honestly adorable until he starts practically humping you out in public. Gaining a few wacks from you to stop. He won't until you promise when you get home you're all his for the taking.

Now if Uvo decided traditional dating isn't for him (or you found out his occupation) and he kidnaps you. Most still apply. Besides the obvious of not going out. He's just a bit more pushy, a bit more needy. You're there with him 24/7, unless he's working. In his mind, you should want him. You should entertain him. Should be at his will and mercy. Though he doesn't want you to hate him so he'll go slow. Try to win you with gifts, but his patience is limited. This version of him is less soft and just more greedy and demanding. He's still all over you like before, but now you don't have the excuse of "we're in public" anymore.

Feitan on the other hand....well... he's a loose cannon in the sense that you can't really understand him. Uvo you have no problem of understanding, I mean he's always talking and he can be honest when he wants something. Feitan though, he just stares, just observes. However, let's start off with if you two were in a semi-normal traditional relationship.

He can be kind of normal, in the sense he understands the process and steps of dating. You ask them out, they say yes, you go on dates, you fall in love...etc. He understands that's how it goes. Just not how to actually do it. So, he watches. He observes you before introducing himself. He takes notes. Learning what you're like. What you're personality is about. Once he's confident he moves in.

Soft Feitan is odd... cause he's still terrifying and always glaring. But his eyes soften when they land on you. There's that glint of happiness hiding in there. All held for you.

He listens to you, always letting you talk as much as you want. He prefers it that way, drinking in every little bit of information you give him. Memorizing your likes and dislikes. Taking in how that bitch co-worker of yours keeps crossing the line. An issue he'll take care of soon. He listens, showing he cares.

Like Uvo, Feitan also enjoys getting you little gifts. Stealing things he knows will make you smile. He remembers you said green was your favourite colour, well here's a green sweater. Oh, you said you loved sapphires. Well, how funny. The place he robbed had tons of sapphire jewellery, here you go. Your favourite thing is breakfast for dinner. Luckily he's taking you to a restaurant that does just that. He'll let you drag him anywhere you want, let you spend as much time together as you deemed necessary unless he has to work. He lets you have this image like you're in control. Like you call the shots, but he knows when need be. He'll have to end it and show you the control he's always possessed.

Feitan's softness comes from his ability to observe and listen. That it isn't just about him, but he does want it to be more about you. Even his touches are careful, he doesn't want to move too fast. Doesn't want to scare you off, or make you feel uncomfortable. His true nature is already bad enough. He wants you to want him before he shows you all of him and your love grows to fear.

He knows one day he'll have to take you, have to lock you away and he knows what that'll do to you. What that'll do to your relationship. It sucks, but it's better than you running off when you find out the truth. So he'll keep you locked away. Keep you safe with him. He's more distant after this, and goes back into observing from the shadows while you wander around and try to find an unlocked door or a weakness in his home. He pitties you, pitties the determination you have. He pitties your weakness.

Between the two. Uvo is softer in the realm he will bend to your wishes more easily, especially when you're using sex as a bargaining tool when he has you locked away. You can gain more from him like that. While Feitan is more set on his own plan. His own ideas. That what needs to be done is to be done. No questions asked. No change in plan.

Both lovesick fools, just in different ways. Uvo is more out there. More willing to be out with you. Carrying your bags. Driving you from place to place. Willing to be your date for any event. Taking you shopping every so often (totally not with money he got from selling stolen merch). Hands all over you. While Feitan is more of an awkward silent partner. Following you around, whether you know it or not. Letting you take somewhat of the lead when you two are dating. He's just trying to figure you out, figure out how this all works and he'll do it by watching. By silently doing things for you.

[karmavongrim]

Love Spell fanfic idea

DP x DC fanfiction idea named "Love Spell" that I have been mulling over the past couple of weeks.

Klarion x Danny shipping (Chaotic Spirits) story, because why not and it would be fun to write about the chaos these two could cause.

Took some inspiration from this, this, bit of this and this.

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Danny really didn’t know whatever he should laugh, cry or flip the nearest table he could get his hands on. He never really thought highly of the Justice League to begin with, hell, you would be hard-pressed to find anybody in Amity Park who did nowadays.

But this… this could just as well take the metaphorical cake of bullshit that has been piling up over the past three years.

He took a deep, measured breath before focusing back on his boyfriend. His sweet, lovable, very-much-chaotic-immortal-man-child of a boyfriend.

“...They think I’m what now?”

On the other side of this conversation sat Klarion, the witch boy extraordinaire, who was combing his slender fingers delicately through his precious familiar’s fur as he watches his beloved having a hard time grasping at the situation. And since he thought of himself to be a rather fantastic boyfriend, he repeated what he said.

“The League of Simpletons have somehow gotten in their heads that I must have enthralled you in one way or another in order to get my hands on some ultimate power, as part of my apparently evil master plan.”

Danny took another breath, this was just getting ridiculous. But then again what else was new, these people really knew how to make a mountains out of a molehills. Even Wes didn’t have this severe of an apophenia, he at least ended up being right more often than not.

“So they think you’ve put me under a love spell or something?”

Klarion merely shrugged in mock-helplessness. “Apparently you wouldn’t be dating me otherwise.” In all honesty he probably shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he currently is, but he couldn’t help himself.

His ever present smirk widened when his beloved Starlight’s face twitched in irritation. “For Ancient’s sake… seriously?” A simple nod was enough for Danny to want to throw the next Justice Idiot who was stupid enough to come close to Amity Park’s boarders through the nearest window!

Calm down Danny, calm down. Just remember Jazz’s breathing exercise. One… two… three…

…

Wait a minute… would that mean- no way in hell way they’ve been…

“Wait a minute- Is that the fucking reason why they’ve constantly been ruining our dates these past few months!?”

Another nod.

Yeah, fuck being calm and shit, ya boy is absolutely livid! All this time they were doing it on fucking purpose!! He so is going to burn all of their ugly ass capes and dye all their ugly ass costumes pink! Better yet, he’ll paint their entire HQ with the most obnoxious and clashing colours possible.

Klarion let the halfa rage about for a good moment before interjecting. It wouldn’t do to have the lounge destroyed, especially when that energy could be used on something else he has in mind.

“We could have fun with this you know, at their expense.”

Danny stopped in his track and turned his inquiry gaze towards Klarion. He knows that smile and it could only mean trouble, trouble which he was more than willing to partake in. A smirk of his own began to grace his lips. “What do you have in mind exactly?”

Once again Klarion was reminded why he’s dating this gorgeous creature in the first place. Trust him to be able to match his chaotic nature despite his hero persona.

“Oh you are going to love it, my dear.”

[toughguymatt]

Night Drive

Part 2/3

Pairing: AU!Nick x Male OC (Adrian Rivers) Summary: Curiosity getting the better of him, Nick takes up an offer to go on a late night drive. Warnings/Content: Language. Oral sex. Third Person POV. Posted in three parts, so it's an easier read. Smut is in the final part. A/N: When we say AU, we mean it. Nick bartends, is into cars, and knows how to drive? Crazy. Buckle up, get strapped in. Also, the FC for Adrian is Vinnie Hacker, but feel free to picture whoever you like.

Part One

Nick's fingers hesitated on the phone screen as a few of his coworkers dapped him on the shoulder, saying goodnight as they left for their cars. Tara had asked him if he needed a ride before she left earlier, and his dumbass told her no, so he hoped to fuck he didn't come to regret this. The last thing he needed was getting stood up or some shit which was honestly a huge possibility considering the fact this Adrian fucker was so hot the retinas of his eyes burned just scrolling his Instagram. Which, he may have scrolled just a little further than he had let on. After a moment of deliberation, he sent his text, the night's wind whipping against his reddened cheeks. 

Nick: Hey, Michael Myers. Still up for that drive?

As if on cue, Adrian's car purred triumphantly towards Nick's position. He beeped the horn twice with a smile. "Hey, handsome," he shouted out of his open window. "Ready to get murdered?" There was a breath of laughter, visible in the dark, as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

God, that was so extra. A huff of laughter puffed from Nick's own lips. He couldn't fucking believe... "Oh yeah, thrilled." He called out, just as his feet carried him forward before he could talk himself out of it and hightail it in the other direction. 

"Did you have anywhere in mind?" Adrian held the car door open to let Nick in the driver's seat. "Because, if not... I have a dark alley we can go to," Adrian joked.

Nick tucked his phone into his pocket as he passed close to him to duck into the car, eyes cutting to his as he did so. Nick's stomach fluttered like he was 12 or some shit. He swore he could smell that hint of vanilla he remembered from before, but maybe it was the car again. 

"You're actually crazy." Nick’s lips lifted into a half-smile despite his words, hands lifting to the wheel as the buzz of the engine still thrummed from under them. "You want to just skip right to the alley? Fuck, you're fast, don't you pay attention to true crime? Premeditate that shit a little bit at least," he continued on, not wasting time to adjust the seat. Nick didn't care - he was invited to drive. He was going to make the most of it while he had it. Besides, Nick did want to be safe. He didn't want his first accident to be in some hot guy's car. That'd be embarrassing as hell. He slid the seatbelt over himself, making sure Adrian was putting his on with the corner of his eye. "I was thinking I'd take you around here then hit the highway for a bit. Didn't realize you wanted this to end so soon."

Adrian buckled in, amused at how naturally Nick adjusted everything to his liking. He drug his teeth against his bottom lip in a smile before answering. "Absolutely not. I'm ready for wherever the night takes us." Adrian tapped the LED screen between them. "You're gonna have to deal with my tunes though. It's hell to re-sync my phone." 

"Oh, God, that feels like a warning somehow. Don't tell me you're a soundtracks only guy. That's the worst. Well, maybe not the worst. I know a guy who only listens to his own rap music. That's the worst."

Adrian reached inside his jacket for his phone and typed a quick response to the text he missed. "What do you normally drive by the way? Porsche? Corvette? A cute little VW bug?" 

Nick peeled away from the corner as Adrian began to ask him just entirely too much. A laugh, or maybe it was a scoff, punctuated his words. "Be so for real. A bug?" Like his big ass head would be able to fit through the door. 

"What kind of guys are you into?"

Nick was blindsided before he could fully answer. His face warmed with embarrassment as he focused his attention on the road ahead. "Maybe I like guys that don't ask me a thousand questions." Nick tried his best to not look right at him, somehow knowing his exact expression, and that was incredibly fucking distracting.

“Hey, if you have the wheel, I think it’s only fair.” Adrian leaned back in his seat and pressed play on his Late Night Driving playlist. “Plus, why not get right to it? I mean, you might die tonight.” In all seriousness, they could both bite the dust and crash into oncoming traffic headfirst. Letting a stranger drive his car? What idiot does that? But Adrian liked to think the best in people. Especially ones that he gravitated to. Nick was like a magnet, or an all-consuming black hole in space. Adrian couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Alright, Jigsaw,” Nick rolled his eyes, “you got me there. I’m still not convinced this won’t end without me all over TikTok as a cautionary tale.” He was relieved for the music that started to play, so maybe his hesitance between questions wasn’t as painfully obvious. 

Adrian wasted no time in asking another question. “When was your last relationship?”

It’s not like Nick could say his only real relationships had only ever been in his head. He let out a huff of laughter that could’ve been a snort, switching lanes and glancing over his shoulder. “I don’t really do those.” They arrived at a red light, and his eyes flicked over to Adrian. The lights from the intersection only served to cast a glow on his skin. It was statistically impossible for someone to look this sexy just hanging out in a car. There was definitely something wrong with him. “Why are you this awake this early?”

"Or do you mean why am I awake this late?" Adrian stretched his fingers against his thighs, contemplating how much of himself to reveal. "Well... I just didn't see the point in going to sleep. I have a flight in a couple hours."

Nick’s eyebrows raised as he spared a quick glance at him, before looking back to the road. “A flight? You going on vacation or something? Flying out to see your boyfriend?” God, he really hoped it wasn’t because he had to flee the country after his murder.

"I have a business meeting," Adrian stated simply. "And I don’t have a boyfriend. Haven’t for, like, a year now." He took a moment before speaking again. "So you don't do relationships. Why?"

“Why?” Nick started, a little flustered. His eyes cut over to Adrian again. “I have Daddy issues,” he said dryly, bluntly. “I don’t know.” Nick honestly wasn’t really sure why. “No boyfriend. Gotcha. So you’re married, then.”

Adrian ran a hand through his hair with a sad choke of laughter. "Have you been hit on by not-single guys before?" 

Nick frowned. "Well, yeah, I mean. I work at a club. I like it there, but, you know. A lot of people trying to get away from their regular lives." He picked up speed, and with his left hand, rolled down the driver's window just an inch to let in some cold wind from outside. He liked the way the sound filled the car. He'd roll it back up in a second. 

Adrian skipped to the next track. "I mean, I get it, you're super attractive, but I couldn't do something like that. If I'm with someone... I'm with someone. I don't see anyone else." 

"What happened with your ex?" If Adrian could ask questions, so would Nick. 

"Just didn't work out. We wanted different things." Adrian cleared his throat. "And he wanted someone else." Adrian didn't regret his past relationships and he didn't dwell on  them either. He didn't see the point in looking in the rearview when you had places to be. 

Nick couldn't really fathom someone looking at this man and going, “pass.” If fucking God's elite were out here with sad ex stories, there was truly no hope for the rest of them. 

Adrian watched as the streetlight turned from red to green. "What's your favorite food?"

Once they were on the highway, Nick moved to the fast lane, and rolled the window back up. "Oh, wow. Sushi. Donuts. Chicken sandwiches. Garlic bread. Those little crispy noodles you get at Chinese places. Can't really pick just one thing."

Adrian grinned at Nick's food choices, mentally jotting them down for later. "I personally love a good lasagna."

"I think it'd be weird if you didn't. You can't really…” Nick was distracted by a slow-ass truck ahead “...go wrong with noodles and cheese." His hand automatically reached over to the back of Adrian's seat, glancing behind him to switch lanes. "Don’t worry, I've never gotten a ticket. I'm not going to start now." He picked up just enough speed to switch lanes again, in front of the truck. "Does me driving make you nervous? Do you feel more comfortable going to your dark alley?"

"Actually?" Adrian ran a tongue beneath his front teeth. "I've never felt more comfortable with someone else in the driver seat. You drive like I would. Besides, I think giving up the reins every so often is good for me. I mean, with the bakery and all my business shit, I do everything myself. Super hands on. I can't give up complete control," he skipped to the next song as proof, "but I don't mind easing up if I can trust the other person not to fuck it up." 

“So what you’re saying is you’re bossy.” Nick kept a steady pace, at the speed limit but not over. There weren’t any cops around but he wasn’t about to take any chances. “Do you work for your parents or something?” He said he had some kind of business trip earlier. Again, how old was this guy? 

Adrian laughed. "I will never deny that. I'm very bossy when I want to be. No, I work for myself. I know. Crazy. A 21-year-old with a bakery. Soon-to-be franchise, if this meeting goes well." His phone buzzed with another text. "Uh, that's how I know Tara actually. She did a photoshoot for me. Some promo shots for the website. The menu." He turned his attention back to Nick. "Have you been to Sweet Dreams?"

“You’re lying.” How the fuck? “That place is yours? I haven’t, in person. But Matt, my brother, he’s been.” He paused a beat, trying to soak in the information. It caught him more than a little off guard. “That’s a lot of shit for a 21-year-old. I’m twenty…one.” He added with a clearing of his throat. “And I’d probably die if I had any more responsibility than I do now.” The idea of deadlines practically gave him hives. 

"I like staying busy. I like having goals, deadlines. It's just easier for me." Adrian would never admit he overextended himself most days. He'd crash into bed with yesterday's clothes way too often to be considered normal. "You should give it a shot. There's new items every season. I'm working on some pumpkin spice stuff for fall already." 

“Was that you who did those— strawberry cinnamon rolls with the actual strawberries? Like, in the layers?” He motioned with his hand. He and Chris had almost murdered each other over that one for real.

Adrian grinned at Nick's description of the pastry. "Surprised you managed to snag some. Those go super fast. If you like those, you should try the strawberry-rhubarb cake. There's fresh strawberries in the frosting."

“That does sound delicious.” Nick could feel Adrian’s eyes on him; his skin felt hot. It was a good thing he was the one driving. It always was a good distraction.

The scenery blurred past the window as Adrian focused on the curve of Nick's hands against the steering wheel. "What's your favorite movie?"

"I'm trying to figure out if I want to give you the real answer or the cool answer." Nick paused and risked another glance over at Adrian. "Let's start with yours."

"Why not both?” Adrian shrugged. “Okay, my cool answer would be… The Dark Knight, and my real answer would be Edward Scissorhands."

Nick’s lips were still lifted into a smile, until he had to go and say that. Nick’s cheeks reddened. Dear god now he was going to look like a loser what are the fucking chances… “Shut the fuck up.” He glanced at him quickly. Was he just saying that to fuck with him somehow? No. That’s stupid. How would he even know that? “I don’t know if it’s cool, but my trendy one is Star Wars.” 

Adrian smiled with his teeth at Nick's trendy movie answer. "You have no idea how many times I've had people come up to me and say I look like Anakin." 

“Really?” Nick briefly took his attention off the road, his gaze drifting over him - up from down. “I don’t see it.” More like a spitting fucking image but he didn’t need to know that Nick had already acknowledged the resemblance in his head an embarrassing amount of times already. Nick hesitated before giving him the second part of his answer. “And your real one is also my real one. Which, by the way, is cool actually.”

"Maybe we should re-watch Edward Scissorhands together sometime."

“Hold on buddy, let’s see if we both actually make it out of this drive alive first.” It sure as fuck wouldn’t be at his apartment, where he’d never hear the end of it from Chris and Matt. Plus, Nick wasn’t totally out on this guy not being a secret psychopath. “Then I’ll maybe consider it. I’m still trying to figure you out.”

"We're stuck in a car together." Adrian’s words tumbled slowly from his mouth. "What else do you want to figure out?" He wasn't subtle about the way he looked at Nick's mouth or the skin beneath his Adam's apple. "Unless you've already made up your mind. We can switch seats, I'll drive you back." Which Adrian didn't want to do in the slightest. He still had hours to kill until his flight, and he'd rather be with Nick than alone with his thoughts. "We can park at any time, handsome."

“Maybe I need to see how you drive before making up my mind.” Nick already got in the car with him. He had a point. He wasn’t dead yet. His gaze flicked over to him before drifting back onto the road. “I’ll let you drive me home later.” 

"I can do that." Adrian tried to hide his smile as he turned his phone over. 

Nick’s hands flexed tighter on the wheel. It was God knows how early and yet Nick was spending his valuable sleep hours on a man. “Any suggestions on where to park?”

"You know how to get to Ranger Trail?"

“This exit, right?” He asked with a nod of his head toward the long stretch of highway ahead. He was already shifting lanes, prepared to get off on the nearest one. “I might need you to navigate a little bit.” He lifted a hand to adjust the center mirror only slightly. 

“Do you go hiking there or is that just where you hide the bodies?”

Part Three

[naranjapetrificada]

This is going to be long so the short version is this:

I convinced my therapist to watch the 🌟Gay Pirate Show🌟 and now I have to confront a previously unidentified and terrifyingly deep emotional wound that could be as transformative to heal as it is terrifying to approach.

My therapist and I have a lot of let's say...demographic things in common that have made this the most successful therapeutic relationship I've ever had, but also that just made me think he might like the show. It's no secret that ofmd has been a deeply moving experience for its viewers, and queer, neurodivergent, and/or people of color have written at length about the special ways it touches us (or doesn't). Those are three categories both he and I fit into and it feels relevant to say that for context.

So yes I thought he might like it, but I also wanted to pick his brain about Big Feelings it was giving me that I hadn't experienced with the same intensity with other media/fandoms. Y'all, he gave me a completely unexpected reading on the show (and its story and its fan works) and why it makes us feel So Much that I haven't seen anywhere before.

When I say Big Feelings, I mean like I've literally had to swear off a couple of pretty innocuous categories on AO3 ("Growing Old Together" and "Domestic Fluff") because they would devastate me in ways that I couldn't attribute to anything specific. Growing Old Together comes with the possibility of death separating them, which is heartbreaking, but that didn't feel like it was the thing that was gutting me. Domestic Fluff could probably be called the most innocuous tag ever, but anything that saw our blorbos settling down and watching the Revenge sail off into the distance was fucking me up as well.

There are plenty of reasons why OFMD makes queer people feel so much, but when I say this was fucking me up I mean like, well, remember when people outside of classical music started learning about appoggiatura? Like intellectually knowing why I was crying but at a loss how intense everything felt. And my therapist (who is as good at analyzing a text as he is at being a therapist) was like "oh, it could be all the grief."

The grief.

The audacity of this motherfucker (affectionate).

It's a romcom! It's a romcom that we were explicitly told would have a happy ending! It's a romcom where the characters will get to sail off into the sunset together like they want and like we want for them! Stede and Ed, after four decades of self-hatred and trauma and fear and isolation, somehow find each other. And one of the sweetest things about their story is that it's a late in life love story, because it's incredibly inspiring for someone to get to experience a part of life they thought wasn't for them. The inescapable fact that their time together will be shorter than any of us would like is sad but not unaccountably sad to me, because of how much joy they'll be able to cram into the time they have left. I could be wrong but I don't think that alone is the source of what's been overwhelming me.

Grief is a constant presence in the world-building and the storytelling because grief is a natural response to well, so many things about being alive. Grieving is some of the hardest shit any of us ever have to do, but it's also so universal and so many of the things that make us uniquely human also make grieving well, maybe not easier, but something we can endure and process through ritual, community, and the example of those we've witnessed grieving their own losses. Many kinds of grief come with narratives that you can accept or reject all or parts of, but the narrative exists.

But have you ever heard of disenfranchised loss? Loss that's not easily labeled or classified or given the time or space or understanding it deserves? Have you experienced a loss like that? Can you imagine how much more difficult it makes the grieving process?

Well what my therapist suggested, the thing that knocked me on my ass hard enough that I had to come have Online Feelings about it, is that eventually, we all have to mourn ourselves. Not necessarily in a "mortality is inevitable" way (that happens to everyone) but in ways that are often unique to people like him and me (black, ND, queer). Even if we work on ourselves, if we grow and heal our trauma and feel at home in our identities and our bodies and build beautiful lives, eventually we will be forced to mourn the selves that we never got to be in the societies in which we live and the selves we once had to become to survive this long.

And that mourning is a kind of disenfranchised loss, with no clear path forward. Obviously this conversation happened within the context of everything my therapist knows about me as an individual, but I thought certain things might resonate with other fans as well so I wanted to talk about it. The story of this bizarre little man and his remarkable second act and his lovely little found family and his incredibly beautiful love story (that we've been guaranteed will end happily) is still haunted by the specific kind of grief that comes from learning what's possible, and regretting that you didn't know it was possible sooner.

And does anybody have more delayed milestones, later-in-life discoveries, and/or need to invent places for themselves than those of us on the social fringes? Than those of us in societies unequipped for (or actively hostile to) the ways we exist and the things we need to survive and thrive? Than those of us who have to create our own narratives or be saddled with inaccurate or harmful narratives created by others, or even no narrative at all?

And narrative is so much. Narrative is everything. Narrative is the story we tell ourselves and each other and that literally shapes our reality. So those story beats where we discover something better than what came before are inherently stories with loss and will require mourning, because we mourn loss.

Even when the story has a happy ending. Especially when the story has a happy ending for someone who never thought they would be allowed to have one.

I mean just like, FUCKING HELL. I can't blame anyone for this but myself. I know my therapist. I know how insightful he can be. I did this to myself and now I have to live with it. But my god is it a massive mountain I'm about to have to climb now. My therapist and I have always found it helpful to discuss media that makes me Feel Things (see all the trauma work that came from Life is Strange) but if you had told me that I'd be looking into this new dark cave of unprocessed shit thanks to what I thought was just gonna be a harmless little gay pirate show starring fucking Murray from Flight of the Concords I would probably just have assumed you were in the middle of having a stroke and taken off to get you the medical attention you desperately needed.

[gilverrwrites]

Could I request some sensory deprivation with Black Mask? Like keeping his S/O blind-folded, and binded somewhere. Throw in a voice kink too while at it. Edging, and whatever spice or nasty you want to throw in 🖤

AND impact play impact play impact plat with Roman, please please please I pray!

Favourite Game

Black Mask/Reader, ≈800 words AN: Please forgive the lack of voice kink, and it's more denial than edging BUT dw, I have anothing request for Roman with a remote control vibrator and I think those too kinks fit in real nice, my cogs are turnin'! CWs: Sensory deprivation, blind-fold, ear plugs, suspension, impact plat, dubious consent, (non graphic) blood drawn, insults, petnames, daddy kink, sugar daddy/baby dynamic, mentions of zapper/electoplay. - Reader has a clit.

After a long day of shopping, Roman has you suspended by your wrists, naked but for the pretty little necklace he’d picked out for you today.

To you, the room is silent, dark, and cold. The blindfold and earplug allow you no warning as to when the next hit will come bar the occasional gust of air that only adds to the anticipation, makes wetter. You daren’t flinch, he’ll only make your suffering worse. With no way to distract yourself, you’ve no choice but to focus on the overwhelming sensation of every impact. The pain is jarring, made worse by the depravation of your senses. Every smack of leather makes your skin burn. Makes your body sway, adds more pressure to your aching wrists. And most importantly sends a searing shockwave to your stinging clit.

This is without a doubt, Roman's favourite game to play with you, his favourite way to keep you in line because he gets to spoil, torment, and fuck you all in one day.

Not that he doesn’t routinely shower you with gifts, bruises, and cum on a regular basis.

There’s just something so exhilarating about your active participation in your own degradation. You’ve played this game enough times to understand the rules. Yet, you’d still stopped at as many stores as possible, scooping up any shoes, jewels, or shiny trinkets that tickle your fancy; racking up the bill, knowing full well that every dollar sign will translate to another bruise or abrasion, and nowhere is off limits. He particularly likes the way your ass jiggles when he cracks at the sweet spot right at the top of your thigh. And the way the skin of your chest swells and welts more than any other part due to its soft and supple nature.

Most of all he likes the way you wail and cry when he strikes your clit. It’s never a sexy sound, not enticing and meek like in the pornos. No, it’s animalistic, it comes from a place of complete pain and submission, and it makes you drip like the needy little pain whore you are.

The hard bed of the crop runs firm between your folds, its coolness soothing what is surely a puffy, sloppy mess. He focuses the pressure on the same clit he’s been torturing, and despite knowing this is just the calm before the storm, the treat before he beats it to numbness, you allow your body to be washed under the pleasure of it, moaning and shivering every time he brushes your bud at just the right angle. Your lust idled mind eventually gets the better of your, allows you hope for the relief of a fast approaching orgasm. When he rips it away you let out a anguished howl that reaches even your own ears.

But you’ve no time to linger on it. The smell finds you before the texture does. The scent of leather and salt assaults your nose before hard fabric slaps against your lips. Still caught up in your lost climax, you’re slow to open your mouth, knowing what’s expected. Roman penalizes your delayed reaction with a twack to the cheek.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You blurt before opening wide, stretching your jaw as far as it will allow as if it will somehow make up for your transgression. That’s something else he loves about this little game, your inability to read his body language means you’re always guessing, always doing more to try and keep up with his good graces. You’re a stupid little thing, but you’re eager, he’ll give you that much.

When the lash finally finds your tongue, you’re struck by an undertaste of copper, he’s made you bleed, again. Marked you up nice and pretty, and you’ll have no idea where until he’s done with you.  

The force holding the crop up disappears and you hurry to bite down on it, holding it precariously between your teeth so that it doesn't fall.

For the first time this night, you wince, not expecting the soft feel of his gloved fingers caressing your cheek. It’s a courtesy before he removes the plug from your left ear, his harsh voice pierces the silence. “You still have a few grand to pay back, baby. Do you want to carry on with the whipping, or are you ready for the zapper?”

It doesn’t matter what you say, with the crop between your teeth your voice is muffled beyond coherence, a fact he’s well aware of.

“Zapper it is., good choice doll.” His voice is mocking, amused by your manufactured helplessness. “You can go ahead and keep that in your mouth, don’t want you biting off your tongue, I’m gonna need it later.”

[sparrowhero]

Assorted Hawks Boyfriend Headcanons

He wants to be a good boyfriend, for real.  He tries his best, but the HPSC is a real pain in his ass and his own workaholic nature can get in the way with the man who’s far too fast for his own good.  Sometimes he puts a little bit too much on his plate, and takes way too much on himself, so it’s ironic that patience is the most necessary virtue.

Doesn’t date around very much.  The HPSC is VERY strict about his image as ‘everyone’s Hawks’ and they bitch him out about you a lot as things get more serious.  If you’re a pro, even moreso, but if you’re some no-name civilian, they’re a bit more lenient.  He’s good about letting it fall off his back for the most part.

He’ll be late for dates, but never on purpose– unless it’s to surprise you with something!  He thinks your glee is just as funny as you being shocked, so watch out.  He also thinks it’s cute when you’re (just a little) mad.

Likes to kiss your nose when you’re mad.  If you’re shorter than him, he bows his head and looks at you so sweetly, brows furrowed together in faux innocence and asks forgiveness  If you’re taller than him, he flashes a big smile up at you and likes to take your face in his hands and squish your cheeks together while he pleads his case that you were just too cute not to tease a little bit.

READMORE FOR LENGTH

He’s not insecure about his height.  If anything, he’s very much this tweet:

(text description: a twitter tweet from Arson Welles @ PissJugTycoon that says "I dated a 5'8 guy who'd taunt every jacked, 6'3 bro he met until they'd pull up their fist to beat him up, whereupon my ex would go "heyheyheyyy c'maahn I'm a little guy, I'm just a little guyy, noo, it's also my birthday, I'm a little birthday boyy" & it somehow always worked)

Doesn’t mind if you don’t like heights, can’t fly, or have other reasons you cannot join him in the air either by his side or in his arms.  While he prefers to fly around, he’s also fine to walk around “the normal way” or meet up in a secluded place to spend time together.

He’s got expensive taste for himself and dresses himself well (especially because a lot of what he wears has to be tailored with his wings.)  But he’d be over the moon with delight for anything homemade, no matter the skill set.  He’s just as much the type to wear it immediately or keep it at home just to stare and smile wistfully at when he’s missing you.  Kind of a hoarder of sentimental things.

Flops on you like a rag doll whenever possible, completely bonelessly.  He likes to cuddle close in between your neck and shoulders.  His wings flap a little bit when he’s happy and content.

He can only really sleep on his stomach comfortably if he’s not sleeping sitting up, so if you’re taking a nap together, good luck getting out from under his wings.  He spreads those things fully when he’s relaxing and they’re heavier than they look.  He likes it when you use him as a lap pillow too.

Will absolutely not tell you his real name for an absurdly long time.  Trust doesn’t come easy to him for things like that, and he justifies it as being for both of your safety.  Enjoys you making guesses as to what his name COULD be and if you guys are going out somewhere incognito (or as incognito as you can be given he’s a celebrity), he likes to use the various fake names you’ve guessed.

Whenever you get close, his eyes crinkle juuuust a little bit in a bittersweet mix of emotions.  He’ll tell you…eventually.

[luna-baby01]

Luna Gets Big, Part II Naturally, that nonstop flow of food has had other consequences for your figure aside from your maternal swell. To say that you've been putting on weight because of these babies is an understatement, really, but your swelling isn't all just baby. You've had a rather plump, voluptuous figure all of your adult life, and these babies demanding you stuff yourself at all hours of the day has made you all the more plump and voluptuous as a result. Your face has glowed since getting pregnant, but it has rounded out to the point that everyone can tell you've been eating well, even if you weren't pregnant. Your breasts have gone up several cup sizes, and you're still not that far along. Your ass, already large and round, has filled up and out to the point that you now sit several inches higher than you used to. Your hips have spread, both from the natural pelvic widening of pregnancy and your now much thicker layer of fat, to the point that many office chairs and movie theater seats simply cannot contain you. You wonder when your hips will get you stuck between door frames. "Soon," you hope, your thoughts dripping with anticipation. Your thighs just keep increasing in circumference, getting thicker and meatier by the day. Even your upper arms have filled out significantly, making a nice pillow to rest your head on. Not a single hard surface exists on your body anymore, the fat on your body jiggling and swaying whenever you waddle around, commanding attention wherever you go. That is, except in one place, but not entirely. Not even your belly, as round and firm with child as it is, has been spared from your fattening. While it may be gravid and hard in most places, there is still a soft layer of fat on its underside that you yourself cannot keep your hands off of. Like putting a ring on her finger, eating for two is sure to bloat up any woman like this, but you're eating for eleven, so that has made your figure fatten up and fill out just that much more. You were worried that your husband might not take kindly to these new developments, but much like yourself, and much to your delight, he cannot keep his hands off of you, even more so than previously, your body tantalizingly softer and squishier than either of you thought possible. Those greedy, greedy babies in your belly have done both you and your husband a great service in plumping up your body.

With month five coming and going, you wake up one day to change your clothes. You extend your arms across your belly to reach your belly button, and something magical happens: Your hands cannot meet. Your fingertips tantalizingly spread apart by your maternal swell. Your belly has swelled so much from these demanding, greedy decuplets that you can no longer reach your own belly button. Your own stomach has swollen beyond your arms' reach. Something as basic as being able to reach all of your body has been taken from you by that brood that your husband put inside of you. You're so excited by this that your mind goes completely numb and you feel as if you're about to faint.

As the months continue to roll on by, your mobility has been decreasing markedly. You've had to have your husband support you whenever you waddle around, scarcely able to do so yourself you are so fecund. Except when your brood is craving a fattening treat, then you can somehow get yourself up off the couch and waddle over to the kitchen on your fat, meaty legs, your whole body jiggling all the way, to fill your gullet and swell both your babies & your figure even further, struggling to sate that burning maternity-induced hunger inside you. As your weight spirals ever upward, the floorboards creak and groan wildly. You specifically made sure to buy an older house with an older wood floor with this in mind, to hear the symphony beneath your feet as you grow increasingly gravid.

This is not to last, however, as when your second trimester ends, you find that you can no longer get up on your own power. Your doctor has put you on bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. Knowing you, this has predictable results. Your reduced activity and insatiable appetite ensures that the babies in your belly grow even larger than otherwise, swelling your stomach to truly gargantuan proportions and fattening your figure even further. (continued in Part III)

MORE!

GIVE ME MORE!

[hrodvitnon]

Assorted Abraxasverse Headcanons

- Ladon probably did not get along with Shin or Leo initially. Both because it’s really difficult for him to trust now given his circumstances but also becausd of their fundamentally different viewpoints and philosophies - Ladon doesnt like humans at all but tolerates them because Mom and Dad do (he gets better about this over time, but not all of that resentment goes away), Shin wants nothing to do with humans and would rather them stay far away, and Leo is the classical Shonen Hero who believes the best in everyone. So naturally, conflict will arise at some point.

Shockingly though, Leo was always the mediator and kept his brothers from going too far, and eventually after plenty of scuffles (and the ouccasional scolding), thry mostly chill out. Ladon is still a ball of surpressed rage though.

- Mothra is the only being outside of Ladon (and eventually Leo) Megalon respects - both because of them being Gods but also because even though they embody two opposite concepts - War and Life - they both love sharing their views and philosophies in spirited debate whenever they meet, with Mothra finding it a bit sad that Megalon still thinks so little of surface dwellers. That, and Megalon is deeply pleased by her hidden bloodlust. 

- You’d think Manda is entirely cool and calm just based on being raised by Abraxas and the way he carries himself most of the time would sell it, but it must also be kept in mind that his father is Rodan. So Manda is just as prone to coming up with stupid or reckless stunts as his dad or being somewhat of an airhead. Keeta is better than their brother, but that’s because he’s the type who prefers to come along and watch rather than directly participate. Biollante!Maddie actually finds Manda at his goofiest endearing, which only reinforces his Rodanisms.

- King Caesar exists somewhere, with his usual backstory of being the ancient protector deity of the royal family of Okinawa. Thing is, nobody but the descendants of that line know where he is and it’s unknown if the Mass Awakening changed that. People have reported a strange dog-shaped Titan appearing to take down hostile monsters then vanishing as quickly as it came, but nothing concrete has come up. Monarch suspects there’s some unknown channel in the Hollow Earth he’s using to move between place to place extremely quickly.

- No one knows what the fuck Hedorah is. All that the Fleet knows is that it used to show up and feast on the dying remnants of civilizations Ghidorah had ravaged, making them suspect it’s some manner of parasitic scavenger. 

- Gigan Rex and the Gigan Miles from GvGR were possibly either an unrelated group of planet conquerors that were suspiciously similar to Gigan himself or they were other models of Gigan that had somehow survived, just without becoming the sort of horrific techno-flesh deity and cult that Gigan and his Fleet have become.

- Speaking of Gigan, due to the nature of him in the Abraxasverse, Gigan is probably very much nothing like what he was originally designed as. The assimilated tech from countless worlds is offered to him and made one with his own body as he deems fit so to some degree or another, Gigan is essentially the depraved bastard caricature of a million dead worlds, and he relishes in it.

- Following his ‘birth’/'rebirth’, Assimilation!Mechagodzilla basically becomes Abraxas’ little brother essentially - and swiftly reminds both Vivienne and San that little brothers can be a pain in the ass. The 'Abraxas Siblings’ are often found trying to beat the shit out of each other just as often as they are sitting down and chilling.

- Assimilation!Mechagodzilla acts pretty much exactly like a bratty teenage boy or a college frat bro due to the lack of inihbitions from both the San half and Ren half within so it essentially falls to Abraxas to wrangle him whenever he goes too far. He mostly limits it to 'pranks’ or such, but he gets astronomically bored very quickly and might just kick over a building if not stimulated enough. He gets along very well with the other kids such as Leo, Shin, or Ladon - which ends up causing problems since both him and Leo will eagerly goad them into stupid shit or all kinds of shenanigans. Manda and Keeta swiftly become the only sane ones.

It gets worse after he molts too - Desghidorah takes and multiplies Mechagodzilla’s childish and impulsive behaviors by three. 

- The Super Complete Works and novelization also say that Desghidorah is some weird amorphous magma blob thing that simply copied Ghidorah’s appearance and might outright be the embodiment of the universe’s tendency to trend towards entropy. As such, it cannot die but is the embodiment of death and destruction themselves.

Going by this, I think it would very rapidly become apparent that Abraxas!Desghidorah is fucking weird to anyone with a spiritual sense such as Gods like Megalon or Mothra - having the presence of a divinity despite being a Ghidorah offshoot and never once displaying any indications of assimilating that power from elsewhere. Neither one knows what the fuck is up with Desghidorah and it raises serious questions about Ghidorah’s actual nature. 

A villainous Desghidorah would essentially be an unkillable nightmare  barring being sealed like he was in the Rebirth of Mothra films and they’d always risk breaking out to become a threat again in the future so that would be a looming issue they’d need to deal with, even ignoring their sheer power potentially putting several Titsns out of commission. And Assimilation!Desghidorah would probably use their nature as an eternal shapeshifting magma monster to troll people.

---

Lordy, what a smorgasbord! I do like Manda inheriting Rodan’s goofiness; he grows into a regal and elegant dragon who is caring of humans, yet he has his moments where he becomes a bit of a dumbass that makes him more relatable and approachable.

[blxsscd-x-fxrsakcn]

under the cut's gonna be some possibly heavy stuff concerning gabe's ex, so, just as a forewarning: homophobia, physical abuse, neglect, abandonment, domestic violence

due to the nature of his secondary work, it wasn't uncommon for gabe to pick up those with repressed bicurious urges, nor was he a stranger to questioning types. one such man was jeyda tahir, an emigrant from turkey who'd come to the states to pursue his college dreams.

jeyda's main concern was, of course, immigration laws and deportation. first order of business was to become a citizen, paid for by his family's monetary gifts. the other was his future career: becoming a talent scout centering on acting / choreography. upon passing the citizenship test, he chose a more americanized name: jarrod / "jay".

gabe met him early in his college courses, at a street vendor's market, admiring some of los angeles' native artists. they did the typical on-again and off-again budding romance, dates during the holidays, and the works. gabe was smitten with this guy. absolutely head over heels.

unfortunately, those rose-tinted glasses had blinded him to the obvious red flags.

first, it came as passive-aggressive remarks, making fun of his interests, his sex work, and the way he expressed himself. subtly made fun of his liking for sweets, took him on "exotic" flights to choose said talent for his 'job' and ultimately ditched gabe until the week was up, shredded a few favorite belongings....gabe suffered through constant gaslighting, questioning his own thoughts.

oh, wasn't just once gabe'd get ditched on business trips. it'd be a pattern of that behavior.

news broke later on that jay had been cheating with a potential cast pick, and the company that sponsored dropped the turkish man. disrespect and employee-boss relations were a no-no. their house of cards quickly collapsed in on itself, with gabe suffering the brunt of it. rejection after rejection, jay took to drinking. alcoholism turned him into a mean drunk. a vengeful drunk.

gabe knew he had a sadistic streak, but not one so glaringly mile-wide.

after an explosive fight, their relationship ended. ended with a homophobic slur carved into gabe's side and cauterized via lighter flame. ended with gabe, bloody and dazed, seemingly watching from the back of an ambulance as jay was led away by police. of course, this wouldn't last. only detained for a fortnight, jay was soon out on public streets once again.

gabe gathered what he could in jay's apartment after a brief hospitalization, took his bag with art supplies, any emergency paperwork and left. contact quickly deleted and pushed all memory of jay outta his mind -- or tried to, despite the stinging ache in his side and hot tears. spending days looking over his shoulder, hoping that the person behind him doesn't turn out to be jay. having his fears confirmed that he somehow got ahold of his new burner number or whatnot.

sure, he could shrug off most of his family's hardships, disownment, et cetera. but jay? anxiety heightened. gaining a diagnosis with cptsd / ptsd. trust? all but gone. been hitch-hiking / train-hopping / ubering ever since.

running in hopes of never seeing that man again.

for gabe? dropped his ass like a lit match to gasoline. jay? went radio silent. gabe presumed it was cause he moved back to turkey ( or maybe joined a cartel / mafia / black market op since dancing wasn't paying bills ).

to cope, he threw himself headlong into the occult, supernatural, and the macabre. if he was as much a monster that his 'pick me' ex believed, then he'd do so through art. taking his anger and reshaping it into something useful. a message, anything.

[growling]

Dazai is one of those characters that I absolutely genuinely hate as they are currently in canon (and I don't think that's gonna really change. the writers seem committed to what they have now), but really love the version I've made up of them in my own mind partially out of spite, and what I myself initially genuinely thought was the direction they were going with him for the longest time.

Dazai has never been a great person from the earliest episodes - his former allegiance with the port mafia for one, and obviously, his shitty treatment of every woman he happens to meet along the way, barely regarding them as people in their own right but as means to finally fulfill his own fantasy of committing double suicide with a beautiful lady. The first thing he says after seeing a literal corpse of some woman is to lament on how she should have instead committed a double suicide with him (while smiling by the way), he helps save a woman from drowning and as she's still soaking wet having nearly died and he's asked as to what he thinks of this, he says "[she]'s looking damn sexy", the "i like all women, but Sasaki-san seems like the type to commit double suicide with me if I asked, which is nice" remark, and never completely backing off when the waitress/worker at the coffee shop(?) the agency frequents tells very politely him to stop harassing her - I cannot stress this enough how in season one, nearly every new female character he meets, he harasses in some way or another. Like... that is cartoonishly evil! That's awful! And nasty! Literally nobody except for Kunikida (who thankfully actually beats his ass several times for it) reacts to this with anything more than a wince and a "haha classic dazai!!". And with every little piece of lore we got from that point, he turned out to actually be worse, and worse, and worse, until we actually saw him in his wonderfully heartless port mafia era. Which has to be my favourite portrayal of him, which isn't hard, because I literally don't like any others.

And.... I was expecting him to like, how do I put this? I felt all of this was culminating towards something. Usually, when a mysterious mentor (debatable) figure turns out to be hiding such dark secrets from the main character, and supposedly their entire crew too, they cannot run from their past forever, it's gonna come back and bite them in the ass eventually, and it's gonna be messy. But... it never happened? I was on the edge of my seat and it just, subverted all expectations in the most unsatisfying and infuriating way.

It turns out that nobody cares that Dazai used to be an extremely high ranking port mafia executive who killed hundreds of people, whether directly or not. It's brushed off and revealed that actually, the agency all knew it anyway, it was just Kunikida and Atsushi that didn't get the memo. And once they find out? Mildly shocked, then they carry on as usual. Even if everybody else is somehow fine with this, maybe even they got their own skeletons in the closet - why does ATSUSHI have barely a reaction?

It should have been a major turning point of his development, if we acknowledge his entire damn character. It should made him distrust Dazai instantly, never look at him in the same way again, have some sort of arc where he questions literally everything about the person he thought he knew so well that helped (debatable) him so much thorought his time at the agency. Questions the catboy can be rotating in his head like a fork in the microwave while trying to not have his third mental breakdown of the week, and that's just to name a mere few because I'm not listing them all: How much evil is too much to forgive, if forgiveness is an option at all? How much can a person meaningfully change, if "change" is possible at all and we don't just reveal our true nature or learn to hide or adjust parts of our reactions? Has Dazai ever changed, or is he the same person as he was then? Does Dazai even genuinely regret anything, or was he just bored of the previous thing? If so, will he eventually get bored of what he's doing now too? Who even is the person that is Dazai, and did he, or anyone, ever truly know him?

Even now I still don't exactly know where I'm going with this, but, as it stands now (and I finished season 3 a day or so ago - I think it's too late at this point to change the direction they're taking with him), Dazai has never suffered a single consequence of his actions. And by "consequence", I don't mean that he should be publically flogged until he confesses his sins and then executed via firing squad. I mean, that, I want just a single thing he even done have some kind of actual effect or repercussion on him in the long run. But no, he can never be wrong, it's all in the past, nothing matters once he stops caring, and whenever a single character even as much as dares to express dislike or criticize him in any way, they are portrayed doing so like this is some kinda exhausting 4chan comic where Dazai is the chad and they're the seething soyjak. He is pretty obviously the writer's pet at this point, whom they absolutely adore and think he is just the funniest, coolest thing they have created. He is not even as great and cool as every other character paints him as, especially Atsushi whom he's supposed to have some kinda very complex and deep master-apprentice type relationship i never actually saw.

In their first depiction in the flashback/prequel s2 episodes (and even crumbs from the s1 captive thingy), Akutagawa and Dazai have a.... terrible relationship! it's so bad, you guys! It is heavily implied Dazai was the one who fucked that man up so much in the first place. And so I root for Akutagawa to one day obliterate that guy (since Dazai very evidently. does not care about him and actively mocks him in s1, and Akutagawa too is not that friendly with him and even wants to kill him then), but then........... Dazai suddenly just tells him he's proud of him once and starts getting downright friendly with him, starts trying to matchmake sskk for some reason, and Akutagawa just turns into his #1 simp that clutches his chest and starts scream crying at the mere implification from anyone that Dazai left because he thinks he's cringe and will never be a real gamer like him??

Do not get me wrong, it is perfectly fine for Akutagawa to have those complicated, clashing feelings on the matter, in fact i'd much prefer it over "i 100% hate that man and pray for his downfall every night" that I see much more often in other media. I WANT him to hate him so much and idolize him at the same time, be glad he is gone and will never return but miss him more than anything and sometimes hope he comes back one day, be both disgusted and terrified by and deeply yearn for the approval of his terrible, incredible mentor.

But why does Dazai suddenly care? And if he for some reason, does now.... What does it matter? It's not like he can fix it. And I care more about what Akutagawa feels rather than the guy who fucked him up but is now over it and wants to just forget it or patch it up with occasionally throwing out "great job Akutagawa very epic. ok that's enough i'll be on my way toodles dude". I'm more interested with how Akutagawa copes, than how Dazai doesn't.

And like...... I'm still not finished with the series. There's still seasons 4 and 5 for me to get through, and I really, really hope it manages to surprise me and gets better. But I'm just.... not that enthusiastic that will be the case. It doesn't look like it, but I'm not really crossing over that possibility just yet. I'll just keep on waiting and maybe get incredibly dissapointed and affirmed that me and the writers just have a very different perception of who Dazai is, or maybe actually get to see him/everyone else get an arc on this and regain faith in the existence of a loving god. But basically, what I've been trying to say this whole little disorganized post, is that at the end of the day, it's night. And Dazai continues to prowl around the bowels of Yokohama unobliterated and cruelly mock and torment me specifically by doing so.

[theophagie-remade]

I wanna go on and on about a thing and 'tis my premise

Now, to the scene that kicked off the Cursed Subplot

First and foremost, one of my grievances with it is that Aoyama's comment is pretty much out of nowhere. Despite having had little to no interaction with Uraraka prior to this, somehow he knows her enough to tell what she's thinking, and the audience is just supposed to accept this. >_>? Ultimately his comment has no purpose other than that of making Uraraka aware that she's got something going on, but it just feels unsatisfactory, cheap, and out of place. I've seen theorises that he wanted to fail the exam on purpose to avoid going to the summer camp (thus, avoiding to aid AFO), but that still doesn't explain how he Just Knew which button to push

Having said that, it's Interesting_Meme.jpeg that this isn't the first time something went bad for Uraraka after she tried to use Midoriya as a reference [see: the Sports Festival arc, "I'll win just like Deku!" -> loses immediately after she has this thought]. And I say "bad" for a reason: in a real fight, this distraction would have killed her. Hell, she still could have gotten injured if Thirteen hadn't reacted in time. It's exactly the same thing that happened during the first mock battle supervised by All Might: the fact that this was an exercise is what allowed her to pass

And there's quite some satisfaction/vindication to knowing that it's not just me, random reader, who says this

"Always be conscious of who you are"... i.e. possibly thee sentence that is most relevant to her character arc in the whole manga

With the added detail that Toga was a character created specifically for her, and that Uraraka was developed to match Toga, it's hard to see how "being just like the person you like" could have anything but negative results. Toga's case is more complex because of the combination of natural urges she feels due to her quirk and the abuse and neglect she suffered at the hands of society, and I don't personally believe that "she's just mistaken" about love and admiration being connected, as some people say, but the core idea of Identity is the same. Becoming (just like) someone else means giving up on everything that makes you you, and Uraraka has been "punished" for having tried to. While she hasn't explicitly said anything about it (yet) ("chat about love" I am so terrified of what could come out of you), it's only with the shift to "I can be inspired by Deku" that she effectively stops stacking losses or half-assed results. And I guess that thinking about it as a shift to something constructive rather than as a full suppression of feelings does solve at least the contradiction of "If Toga suppression = bad, why Uraraka suppression = good?" (I still think "I can teach you, Toga, how love should actually be!" would be a TERRIBLE thing though btw)

This is one of the instances where the japanese text may help a lot, because "bottling feelings up" and "keeping feelings under control" do share a common repression element to them, but at the same time they aren't the same

I do think that on its own this is a good approach to love as a theme, but as things currently stand, (excluding things like Uraraka being sidelined so often and the lack of interaction with other characters) my gripes with Horikoshi are: the interference of other characters (Aoyama, Mina) is annoying; it's ultimately disappointing that, as far as the relationship side of things is concerned, everything is on Uraraka's shoulders alone. Midoriya merely is an unaware external cause, and this lack of reciprocity not only renders the prospect of a possible future relationship between them completely unappealing and bland (if the standards for romance are supposed to be a character thinking "Oh, A Cute Girl I just met is talking to me!"... *side eye*), but personally it also... makes him feel like an intruder. When I think about "the love subplot", it's Uraraka and Toga that immediately come to my mind, with Midoriya just being an annoying afterthought, because he's only indirectly involved and... that's it ("he's just standing there... menacingly!")