#there's obviously more to the appeal of them than just this of course

[bo0tleg]

Despite being head over heels in love with Ice and Mav's dynamic in the original Top Gun, the same dynamic in Top Gun Maverick with Rooster and Hangman never worked for me. This is my attempt at voicing why:

DISCLAIMER: This was not created with the intention to offend anybody who ships Hangster/Sereshaw. It is simply my understanding of their relationship, and why it doesn't appeal to me. Opinions are like the butthole, everybody has their own. By all means, continue shipping them if you want to, this is only for fun.

Hangman and Rooster's entire relationship is based on resentment.

Unlike Mav and Ice, they have history. There's something from the past that lingers in all of their interactions, poisoning all of their words and actions.

Hangman is frustrated with Rooster, all the time. Of course, he banters with everyone, Phoenix about her gender, Bob about his callsign, but those are more 5th Grader Playground insults than anything. It's different with Rooster, and not in a good way.

When it comes to Rooster, Hangman goes straight to insult his character. He doubts his judgement, insults his way of being and flying, prods about how he needs to change if he wants to fly the mission.

With Ice, he was criticizing Maverick, not insulting him. Hangman is both criticizing AND insulting Rooster because he perceives him in a less that ideal light.

Hangman doesn't understand why Rooster flies the way that he does, and doesn't try to either. He just sees it as wrong and doesn't think twice about it. He goes straight to insulting him because he thinks that it's wrong, and that it's something about Rooster that needs to be fixed.

And Rooster is constantly exasperated because of it. Hangman prods, and jabs, and insults Rooster, but it never works. The more Hangman pokes, the more Rooster closes up, frustrated. He gets angry, pissed and becomes much LESS inclined to listen to anything Hangman is saying.

Rooster doesn't work well under pressure. And that's the only way Hangman operates.

Throughout the movie, Rooster doesn't listen to Hangman once. He might've been right about Rooster being too slow, but it only fell on deaf ears (not to say that he was right to bring up Goose's death, he was defo wrong about that one). All it causes is strife, to the point where Rooster almost punches Hangman because of how infuriating he was to him.

The entire movie, Hangman provoked Rooster to get him to stop being the way he is, because he sees it as a flaw of character. And it doesn't work.

Rooster only drops his need for playing it safe when Maverick tells him to 'Not think, just do'. Because Mav only gave him a push in the right direction, not throw in his face all of his flaws.

(Side note: This is also the reason Rooster doesn't listen to Mav in their argument, because he thinks Maverick was insulting his way of being by saying he wasn't ready. On the mission, by selecting Rooster as his wingman, he recognizes that he is ready, and that he trusts him with his life. Making him more inclined to listen to Mav once in the canyon.)

A relationship where one person is constantly frustrated by the other and the other is constantly exasperated by the former doesn't work.

Because that's how they are, and that's how they function, and it isn't going to change.

Rooster isn't going to stop frustrating Hangman because that's how he works, and Hangman isn't going to stop making Rooster exasperated because he doesn't know how else to voice his feelings.

I can see where the ship comes from, because obviously. Their homoerotic tension could be seen from space. I totally believe that they might have had a fling in the past that ended badly, and that they possibly could have hooked up at some point in the movie in the 'Hate Sex' vein of things. I just don't think it'd be anything beyond that.

They wouldn't work in the long haul, is what I'm trying to say.

They're too similar, and too different at the same time.

They're both hothead stubborn motherfuckers that couldn't come to an agreement if they tried.

And you might show me the scene where Hangman is happy about Dagger 2 hitting the target, and him being absolutely devastated when the same hornet is shot down. I recognize it, it demonstrates care. Hangman cares.

Thing is, that doesn't change anything that I said prior to that.

It's possible to resent, despise, be bitter towards and irritated by someone and still care about them. It's possible to hate them and still care. Hate them, and feel like you don't hate them all the time. Human emotion is a funny thing like that, nothing is ever black and white, always varying shades of gray.

Just because they hate each other (and yes, that is the reading I have on them, doesn't stop them from being horny fuckers about each other tho) doesn't mean they want the other dead.

I believe it's similar to the sentiment of "I hope you get everything you ever wished for, and that I never hear a word about it". Similar, but not the same, in a way I do not know how to describe. Thus, I used that to give the same vibe.

I can't see any future for them, in any shape or form. They hold too many grudges against each other, and both of them have a tendency of holding on to old (bad) feelings far too strongly. Even if they work through whatever problems they have now, new ones would emerge and they would go through the same process again and again and again.

That isn't healthy nor stable. It's not what either of them should strive for in a relationship. With that, I'd probably say that both of them need stable people that hold logic to high regard, and that are easy going (I say that in general terms, with no one specific in mind for either of them).

All that being said, this is my opinion. This is how I view them, and understand their relationship. They don't work for me because I see no logical way they could.

If they work for you, that's great! Enjoy the air gays 2.0 to your hearts contentment, I'm happy for you.

This was just a fun analysis of my vision, with no intention to diminish anyone who might enjoy them.

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[apollos-calliope]

touch tank: luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!child of poseidon!reader

warnings: suggestiveness, swearing, skinny dipping, nudity, PDA, oral (f receiving), multiple reader orgasms, mentions of future relationships, slightly dark!luke, pjo spoilers, kind of brother’s best friend! trope

NSFW CONTENT. MDNI.

obviously i don’t own any of percy jackson or any of the characters - also luke is an adult in the books and has always been an adult in the books! i do NOT write anything suggestive about the underage characters in the show, even if their actors are of age. I also do not write about underage actors whatsoever. i worked really really hard on this, i hope you enjoy!

one of the first things you noticed when you arrived at camp half-blood was that greek mythology had a reputation of being quite unhinged in the eyes of others. this was due to the gods’ reckless tendencies, sexual escapades, and overall sense of superiority and self importance. considering the amount of demigods at camp half-blood, it was safe to say that the beings that resided on mt. olympus were promiscuous. that led to their children following suit. many of the campers who were of age tended to fool around with as many people as they could before leaving for college or careers. they were never given the chance to experiment before, after all. even aphrodite refused to let her children embrace their sexuality. it was an unspoken agreement with chiron and the gods to keep the campers focused and out of trouble. keeping the campers focused meant keeping the gods from hearing about them: and the less the gods hear about their children, the better. so henceforth came another very simple camp rule.

no maiming, no murder, no mating.

unfortunately for the gods and chiron alike, young adults love nothing more than to explore. and that’s exactly what they did. when all of this happened, you were freshly an adult and were very sex positive. most of the others seemed to share the same sentiment. of course, the younger campers like your little brother percy didn’t see the appeal yet. they were too busy pursuing their kleos.

that was the interesting thing about camp half blood. you had shown up shortly after percy’s arrival and were met with hatred from him. he was beyond angry that poseidon had claimed you the moment you stepped onto the grounds. percy said it took so long that he almost convinced himself it was all just a mistake, until he found a friend who helped him figure it out.

that’s how you met luke castellan. he explained to you that the gods were on the verge of war, and you told him you hated the gods because of what poseidon did to your brother. he liked that. you already felt protective over percy. he needed a bigger sister, someone to guide him - even though you were just as new to this. luke would need someone to take over, after all. so you vowed to be percy’s guide, and luke took up being yours. you never spent a single night in the hermes cabin - at least as an unclaimed child. and percy would never admit it, but you and luke had saved him from a fate he didn't want to think about.

when percy finally warmed up to you, he was already leaving for his quest. you hugged him as tightly as you could, reassuring him that you'd have luke while he was gone and that you knew he would return safely with his mom. you made it clear that regardless of the gods, the family that cares is most important. the squeeze he gave your hand broke your heart in two. you had a sick feeling in your stomach when you watched the three children head towards thalia's tree. in that moment, you swore you would do everything you could to keep percy safe and happy. you would make any sacrifice for him, like the sister he deserved.

in the meantime, there were at least two positives to percy leaving for his quest. the first was extra bathroom time in the morning. percy made it very clear that his hair was the most important task in the cabin, so you were normally rushed to the wire to make it to activities on time. he was too sassy to argue with.

the second was the freedom you had during the night. you wanted to keep messing around like the other older campers. no one seemed to recognize your urgent need for comfort, or at the very least, a distraction. coming to camp had been traumatizing. you could use the heat of a body, or several. fortunately, a certain hermes boy had taken a liking to you during your tours and lessons. making up six years' worth of training was a task to behold, but you were determined. so you spent most of your time with him. days easily turned into nights with luke's gentle smirk and valiant effort to keep you safe. as far as he knew, you were readily available to any of these losers he wasted his time around. you weren’t ashamed of your sexuality and he was well aware of that. however, you were already beyond smitten at that point. you just pretended to be interested in romance with nearly anyone. for the fun, and the freedom of being a normal teen for once. but mostly because of the way luke’s smirk would turn into a glare at the mention of another camper.

the night percy left was also the first night that you grabbed luke's wrist and dragged him to the sand undetected. you were nervous to put so much trust into one person, but luke was the only person you felt was completely honest with you. the sound of laughing filled the space until the quieter hum of lightning bugs signalled your opportunity to make it to the water. he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder, chuckling at the squeal you let out. this time around, you pressed a hand against your mouth to muffle your shouts of glee as luke haphazardly sprinted towards the water with you on his shoulder. he threw you down onto the sand gently, right where the small waves hit. they lapped over your fingertips gently, settling you into a state of relaxation.

you looked at him in confusion when he removed his pajama shirt. the blue fabric landing next to you, halfway dunked into the water.

"figured the best way to celebrate your relief from big sibling duty was to do something stupid. naked, of course." your first instinct was to laugh as he finished stripping down. he didn’t seem bothered by his ruined shirt or the presumption of nudity. you noticed ink scattered across his gold-toned skin as he began to run. curious to find out more, you followed after him.

once you splashed into the water, you immediately felt the tension draw out of your shoulders. the water had always made you feel alive. you knew now that it was due to your lineage. you would eventually have to thank your dad for that, much to your chagrin. you could only hope that percy received your dad’s help on his quest.

when you opened your eyes, it was to luke absolutely beaming at you. despite seeing your bare skin, he was entranced by the soft glow of your eyes in the moonlight. to him, you were ethereal. it was foolish to put so much faith into the gods when it was so much easier from him to whisper prayers into your most intimate areas, exposed to him without a second thought.

"i think i'm falling for you." glazed over eyes, covered slightly by messy curls, met yours. the air was static with vulnerability and desire. luke was just waiting for your signal. you nodded.

"i trust you."

"good. i'll be gentle."

he grabbed you and pulled you back into the water. you felt a sort of bubble around you as his lips met yours. you were well aware of your ability to breathe underwater. you had never told luke, but he must have noticed from the endless nights you spent in the water. you trailed your hands along his arms to meet his eager actions.

a line of spit connected the two of you as you broke apart, letting the water float you to the surface. your destination, although not shared out loud, was clear to both of you.

he told you about his tattoos as you got out of the water. he had two, a feathered wing spread across his thigh - which matched perfectly with the μαῖα inscribed on his bicep. his history, embedded into his skin. such a beautiful concept. you mentioned that you thought it was cool that he chose to have his own history, unlike his scar. you had never seen him tear up like that. he brushed it off with a joke about his dad hating him, a natural defense.

it was near torture to know how close you were to him in so little time, physically and emotionally. he threw his shorts and undershirt on quickly while you dried your hair. as soon as your towel was wrapped around your torso, his hands gripped the back of it firmly to lift you by your ass. the heat in your stomach threatened to burn through the layers of fabric that separated your bodies.

the walk back to the cabin was a flurry of lips on lips and lips on skin, bruises and soft bites. you felt dazed and enthralled as he used your body to push the cabin door open. he practically threw you on your bed and kicked the door closed dramatically. you two were beyond the point of being concerned about noise. once again, if the gods were allowed to be so reckless, what was stopping their kids? lead by example, or whatever.

you were too beautiful to resist, anyway. he pressed light kisses to your lips. the heavy breathing and quiet giggles created a soft rhythm that reminded him of waves crashing against the shore. it was so easy to see your parentage. now that you were claimed, your body seemed to glow around the water. he wished to glow with that much pride, but his dad would never give him the time of day. luke pushed at the towel wrapped around your body, letting it unravel underneath you.

he knew you were beautiful, of course, but seeing you so open to him felt like fireworks erupting from his chest. he couldn’t stop smiling as he brought his lips back to yours.

he didn’t seem to want to take his time, although he wasn’t rough by any means. he pressed gentle kisses to your lips first, and then your cheeks. next it was your forehead, a quick one on the nose (which made you giggle) and one on the chin. then it was open mouthed kisses to your neck, forming subtle bruises in a line down to your collarbones. he traced that line until he reached the skin of your chest. instead of giggling, you were panting. he paused.

“luke!” you gasped as he traced his tongue along the curve of your breast, stopping to follow your nipple and suck lightly. he took this as a sign to continue, using his hands to knead your skin as he continued to leave a trail of marks past your torso and down to your lower stomach. he teased you for a while, loving the way you responded to his touch.

“may i?” he fluttered his eyelashes at you almost sarcastically, his mouth level with your center. he lifted himself to comb a hand through his locks and then leaned even further down to blow a puff of air at your clit.

you could only nod, the anticipation blocking your throat from making any noise.

“words, baby.”

“please, luke.”

he gently pressed the tip of his tongue into your wetness, marveling at the wanton cry you let out. he pushed his way up towards your clit, circling it.

you move with a rhythm that only the you two could understand, the son of the god of travelers navigating your body with a supernatural expertise. he knew the best way to please you, bucking his hips against your mattress as you clenched around his fingers.

he knew the best way to please you, thrusting with more force as your limbs jerked.

he knew the best way to please you, continuing his movements as you came, watching you leak around his finger on to the towel you had just been wearing. he backed away from your core, wiping his mouth and chuckling as you returned to earth.

as soon as you made eye contact with him, he was back on you, his fingers roughly rubbing your clit. you whined, sensitive but so desperate to show him how good you could be for him. you rode it out for as long as you could, hoping to get him as excited as he was making you. the longer you edged yourself, the more intense his actions became.

before long, he was laughing in glee as you squirted directly on to his red, sweating face. you were embarrassed - he had never been harder in his entire life. you were perfect for him, and he was going to prove it to you.

you already trusted him with your life. you felt like you could be yourself around him. luke loved you the way you were, despite your strange situation. you were confused when he suggested weeks later that the two of you run away together. he didn’t explain to you his entire plan, but he told you that he had to hurt some people that you loved in order to make the world better. he told you that you would be safer at camp half-blood, but he would love to wake up next to you every morning. he told you he loved you. that was all it took.

you waited for him deep in the forest that day, pushing aside your worries as he approached and tears fell from his eyes. you didn’t know what happened, but you knew it wasn’t good. you didn’t ask.

luke castellan had found his glory in the feeling of your bare skin pressed against his. he thought he needed this, his revenge, his kleos. as he led you through the forest, memories of your full trust that first night heavy on his heart, he knew he was making a mistake.

[haunted-xander]

I think one of the (several) reason for why Shadowbringers is so good is because the narrative is more about the individual characters than it is the Greater Conflict.

Like, the Greater Conflict is definitely there, obviously, it's what keeps the story going, but the focus is always on the people, much more so than the other expacs. HW and STB also have some level of character focus ofc, but it's very selective and even then the focus is based on them in the specific context of the current conflict.

But in SHB, the story bends around the characters' narratives, rather than the other way around. The story forms to put them in situations that challenges their flaws and limitations, by forcing them to confront it and actually deal with it. Even just at the very beginning, you see the twins being dealt a terrible hand that very neatly clashes against their faults.

Alisaie is confronted with a situation that she can and could never do anything about. She has no means to help the patients (at the time at least). The only way for her to help them is by eradicating the source of the affliction itself: the Light. But the Light isn't just some Big Bad she can kill and be done with. Even when all the lightwardens are down the Light is still there, it's just more manageable. Alisaie learns to not only see the bigger picture, but to care for it for her own reasons. For all that she has participated in Big Operations, it has always been because that's what others were doing, what others cared for to be done. She feels for the people of Doma and Ala Mhigo, but she didn't set out to liberate their homelands because she has any personal investment in it. But other people do, and she cares about what other people- be they strangers or friends- care about.

Caring about other peoples feelings and opinions isn't a flaw by itself of course, but doing things without any sense of personal purpose, is. This is what SHB helps her fix and confront, because it is personal now, she does it because she cares.

Alphinaud is forced into a situation where diplomacy and negotiations does and would never work. He can't talk himself into Eulemore, and he sure as hell can't convince Vauthry or the free citizens to let go of their life of ignorant luxury. The problem here also isn't as straightforward as a corrupt ruler, because even after Vauthry is revealed for the bastard he is, it takes considerable effort and convincing to get them to get off their asses and get to work. It's one thing to change the minds of people who wanted the same outcome just in a different way (like Ishgard- they rejected unity with the dragons, but they still wanted an end to the war), but it's another thing entirely to convince people that another way of life is even worth it.

And this is what SHB teaches Alphinaud, that words and deeds can achieve much, but that there is much more to diplomacy than appealing to their wants and/or sensibilities to convince them of an alternative outcome. His development may not be as immediately noticable as some of the others (largely bc he had a lot of it already from HW), but it is still very much there.

Urianger's development had already been build up and sort-of started already, but we don't really get to see it until it near explodes in his face after we kill Vauthry. Even after he swore off secrecy, he's forced to confront his morals when the Exarch bids his assistance. Urianger has always been looking at the greater picture, to the point he'd almost lose himself in it if it wasn't for the overwhelming guilt he feels. He works with the Exarch, because he knows he's the only one capable of it, and he hates the very fact that he is. When the climax of the plan is about to be executed, he is pained to the point that even he can't mask it anymore. He has betrayed their trust once more and once more it will result in the death of a friend.

But it doesn't, and that's what's needed for him to confront himself. As terrible and unexpected as the circumstances around it was, it did show him that there are other ways. There is no one way to solve a problem, the first choice doesn't need to be the only one. And he would find those other ones of he had just talked to the others.

The pay-off doesn't quite come until EW, where we see him actively make the choice to go against his first instinct of acquiesing to the Loporrits' plans, and instead chooses to consult us, but that scene wouldn't have made sense or even happened had it not been for his development in SHB.

Now, Y'shtola is a bit of an odd one because while she does get her due focus, she doesn't quite get the same amount of development as the others. Rather, it shows how she thrives when not held back by others interests and (often somewhat needless) bounderies. Her intelligence and charisma have the chance to shine, her independence and confidence now rewarded rather than punished. In ARR, she is constantly annoyed by the Maelstroms way of dealing with things, and how no one bothers to actually listen to her. Her advice and reprimands are almost entirely ignored until the problem blows up in their faces and they have no choice but to concede that she was right.

Being independent and confident aren't flaws by themselves, but her sometimes aggressive approaches to telling others off does her few favors. In SHB, she has the Night's Blessed who actually heed her word and respect her, they listen to her and actually take what she says- be it advise or reprimand- to heart.

She does also, however, have to deal with Thancred who, much like the Maelstrom, ignores her reprimands and doesn't listen to her. The difference here is that her bluntness actually serves a purpose. In ARR, her bluntness lacks tact and meaning, simply a result of frustration. The Maelstrom won't listen to someone who doesn't come up with fleshed-out arguments and solutions, but Y'shtola doesn't bother giving them any until she knows they'll listen. But with Thancred, she does give him the solution. It's just that the solution is him. His words, to be precise, and his acceptance. And he needs to be reminded of that, and she does. It doesn't automatically solve anything, but that's simply how it is with complicated situations like that.

Speaking of Thancred, his narrative is probably the most important of all for SHB. He's always been shown as a capable, but ultimately self-destructive man who genuinely does not know how to deal with himself in a healthy manner. Theoretically speaking he knows, he recognizes that he is self-destructive, but he still has no idea how to actually fix it. It's been shown as early as ARR when it results in him getting possessed, but it's not really made a point of until it almost ruins his relationship with Ryne. Up until now he could just ignore his problems, but with Ryne he can't because now The Problem(s) aren't just his anymore. Anything that would hurt him now would also hurt her, meaning that if he wants to continue doing the one thing he actually cares about (protecting his loved ones) then he needs to get his shit together.

But Thancred doesn't know how to. And for all that his friends try and try to help him, he doesn't know how to. He's paralyzed. Thancred is so deep into his self-destructive habits that it takes the threat of both his and the person(s) he loves the most in the worlds deaths to get him into action. He doesn't know if it's Minfilia or Ryne who will return, and I'm not sure he expected to survive Ran'jit. He only has this chance, and if he wants to die without (as many) regrets he has to do something now.

And he does. He does and what it is he does is tell Ryne that whatever happens, it has to be her own choice. That he will accept any outcome, that he will still care about her no matter what, that as long as she lives or dies as she wants to, that he still loves her. He still loves her. And it works, because that's what he's needed to do all this time, to be able to just tell her that she matters. That he cares.

He tells her to live her own life, and he learns to live his own too.

[yuri-is-online]

Azul totally has an octopus and shrimp plush that he makes kiss.

Who? How? Usually when I get an ask I know where it comes from (or why anyway) but this time I just looked at my phone and got hit by a bus. But you know what annon? You are so right, he totally does.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Azul engages in some SSS tier simping (shrimping?), once again this is a joke but I am not taking cold meds this time! Please look at my masterlist for more serious works.

Plush toys do not exist in the ocean, the concept of them was something Azul had been made aware of in his research and made note of in land training camp. But of course, as was the case with more things than he would ever admit to outside of a court order, Azul failed to grasp just how ubiquitous and popular plushies were. He had even been gifted an octopus plush as a prize during one of the first Board Game Club events he attended, something he had intended to brush off as childish until he saw the way his club mates reacted, even if he didn't understand why himself the little guy was clearly an enviable prize. A claim made less believable with how he hadn't let Floyd squeeze it, or Jade poke at it, and he certainly had not agreed to give it to Idia no matter how much he had begged.

The shrimp plush had been a... strategic purchase. No really, if anyone asked he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he had bought this specific plush that he had to go out of his way to find, order, and watch out for to make sure that Jade didn't bring it to him with the rest of his mail. The Mostro Lounge was always going to expand to have a merch store, and since plush toys were so popular with humans it made sense to have some! He just needed to ensure this particular brand was of a high enough quality to commission-

No one was going to buy that excuse. All the more reason to keep this little indulgence a secret, even if the seller had been confused by his request for discreet packaging.

"It's just a plush sir?" To them maybe, to him this is a painful sign that he should just say something already but he needs to plan for that and this should help. The two plushes certainly look natural enough together, Azul has seen pictures of some beds that have a bunch of little guys set up on them and he's beginning to see the appeal. Maybe he should get two eels? Smaller than the shrimp, obviously, it's the only way the real ones will ever let him live it down. But by thinking that he is sort of acknowledging who the little shrimp is supposed to represent. And they're sitting next to him in his bed.

He takes back his previous thought, Azul has no idea how humans sleep with things that remind them of the objects of their affections, it's filling his mind with situations.  He props himself up against the headboard, holding both plushies close to his face so he can see them without his glasses.

“I was so lonely.” Azul is incapable of picturing him otherwise.  “I really missed you.”  He sniffles, and the little shrimp jumps to comfort him.

“I missed you too!”  The little shrimp is friends with the octopus?  Azul has no idea when that happened he just got them today-  “Let’s never be apart again ok?”

“Do you really mean that?”  The little octopus tentatively reaches out one of his stubby tentacles towards the shrimp, who takes it happily.  “I don’t want to let you go…”

“You don’t have to.” comforts the little shrimp. “We can get married and do our laundry and taxes together forever and you won’t ever have to be lonely ever again.” 

And that is apparently when Azul decides to come back to his senses, just as he is halfway through humming a wedding march and making the plushies kiss.  He remembers himself enough to keep them from dropping to the floor, but they still fall to his side as he collapses back onto his pillows redder than a boiled lobster.

Maybe he should just… give the little shrimp over to Yuu.  And make some actual progress on that laundry and taxes bit.

[privitivium]

can you write another Yan streamer x m!reader but have it yan!streamer invite reader to his stream for some gaming and chat actually liking reader a bit more than yan!streamer or just trolling on him, then maybe after the reader and yan!streamer start talking about dicks again and reader mocks yan!streamer saying he probably cums quick like a virgin, and then it inevitably leads to them jerking off together on a video call both mocking each other about how their faces look or the noises they both make just a angry video jerk off sesh.... and if I had to use like the terms you listed on your rules probably a domtop m!reader x dombot yan!streamer vibes, both fighting for dominance but reader wins ^_^

sorry it took so long, havent been getting lotta inspo to write for streamer yan ....... sorry for any mistakes mwah

yandere amab streamer x loser amab reader

[ his name is ambrose. he just looks like an ambrose shh. ] cw;; masturbation, creep streamer - mentions of stalking

it's a wonder how he manages to live so long. this goddamn idiot… he, ambrose - a friend, some weirdo streamer ( who you watch on the down low ) who invited you on his stream.

skeptical of course, as anyone would be really… like, would you be doxxed for hanging out with this guy??? he did have quite the following - ( you werent about to admit that he's pretty ), so it'd be a bit normal to have a few threatening comments directed at you.. haha. but that didn't seem to be the case at all! entering with the line, “you ruined my cloud watching.” when in reality you were just fucking around on your computer with no intent to play nor bother nor be bothered nor cloud watch - stealing the attention quite easily with idiotic one-liners after you kill him. the score, 10 to 3. how embarrassing for him…

“you literally keep giving yourself away, what's wrong with you?” you grunt, annoyed. yet humorous... not watching his stream for once to take him down for once… how commendable. but with one quick glance at his chat would tell you all you need to know, really… they seemed to favor you. your “cloud-watching” really got through to them, huh??? ( of course it was ambrose talking about you to his chat beforehand ) ah - in the midst of reading the flirtatious and ego-boosting comments, you were killed in your hunkered down position by melee.. yeah fuck this guy. grumbling to yourself as he laughs at you, face growing warm - anger or embarrassment? both.

“dude, just say AFK?” ambrose snorts, acting as though you are stupid. fuck you can't stand that tone of voice… obviously, you actually being pissed off is something he immediately takes note of - after a few more minutes of badgering you, he decides to end the stream. a sorrowful goodbye from his chat to you… how sweet.

ambrose humming in delight, clicking away and immediately running around the map to figure out where you respawned. if only he could stream snipe you like you do him... the second best thing is just watching you on a smaller monitor playing in your room. jerking off every other night like a crazed freak... him to you. he cant help himself, alright?!ㅡ“what do you know? who just got knifed in the throat?” that smug little bastard. in a private room, 1v1 on a relatively huge map… just for the comedic appeal for his viewers as he told you over messages

ㅡ“fuck you, i was away from keyboard!!”

“good game..” he says after an awkward throat clearing - squirming in his chair, trying to keep his tone from wavering…

“whatever, fuck you…” obviously having no other insult other than the classic fuck you. you grimace at your words, knowing you could've done better - done worse, commenting on his physical appearance again, or even mentioning dicks. but you were… hn. thinking about something else. jerking off after this ends…

ㅡ"yeah, yeah, i bet you dream of that…”

“no… who would want to dream of fucking a two-pump fuck like you?” you wrinkle your nose, grinning mischievously as you exit the lobby - relaxing back in your chair… “you wouldn't last.” you say simply, glaring over the camera at his form over the monitor.

ambrose scoffs, jerking his head back in disbelief. was he really talking this way to his object of affection? this is just like the dick thing all over again. he already feels his dick itching - precum smearing and staining his boxers as he aches uncomfortably in-between his legs.. “you probably can't last long… you seem like the type of virgin to cum right when he sticks his dick inside someone. or even something.. ” he huffs - a bit too nonchalantly. you weren't even on stream to be play fighting like this - ( doing it mostly for attention and because it's just your attitude - ) yet here you were.. “you seem to be the type to just use toys cuz he can't get anyone to let him fuck...” he grumbles under his breath, obviously picked up by his high-quality mic- it seems your comment hurt him, huh…?

“naah…” you shake your head, lackadaisical. “i pride myself in lasting long.” with multiple long lasting sessions of edging - yes, you couldn't not gloat. and this fucking guy would have no way of knowing if you were being serious or not… of course - ambrose knew this. he knew all too well of course?? spying on you, masturbating to clips of you jerking it - one so reminiscent it pops into his head doing his daily routine... your thighs trembling from overstimulation of not cumming, your head thrown back against your chair, fist gripping at your dick and languidly stroking... teasing yourself. augh..

ambrose pauses for a brief moment - looking off camera and fiddling with his keyboard. a moment of awkward silence… you fear you went too far with your teasing before he breaks the uncomfortable quiet withㅡ“why don't you prove it?”

ㅡhuh?

“prove it?” you repeat, dumbfounded and glancing at the monitor displaying his face - jumping slightly when you see him already glaring into you, immediately looking away. “prove it by what, jerking off in front of you?” you scoff at the idea - definitely open to it. it sounds like something you jerked off to once anyhow - and to live it out with this fucking jackass tryhard? hm.

“... yeah. let's see who'll last the longest…” ambrose shrugged, all “cool-like”. “actuallyㅡno.” he shakes his head, grinning smugly as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair, playing his chill-relaxed guy persona.. “i already know it'll be me, no need to embarrass you.” he snorts, shaking his headㅡ

he gets anxious after you don't reply for the next minute. you couldn't help it - you were thinking excruciatingly hard about the offer - jacking off to each other, technically? well.. don't mind if you do…

“... sure.” you finally decide, pursing your lips and making a point not to look at the screen displaying his face, fiddling with your keyboard. “i'll win. you're a fucking virgin, after all..” still getting one last grumbling insult in… sounding utmost serious about the whole ordeal, and he was sure you would. he ... really, realistically, wouldnt last a minute...

“s-sure??” he questions, making sure he heard you correctly - seriously? SERIOUSLY SERIOUS? already fumbling with his pants - dick hard from just talking to you, the person he held deep affection forㅡ

"y-you look.. so .." you exhale deeply, biting harshly on your bottom lip as you thumb the slit of your cock; warm spit-covered palm gripping softly, up down up down.. urk-! head tilted back and glaring into the monitor that displays his frame, shirt pulled up revealing his abdomen and a full shot of his cock that he was abusing- you can't finish your first sentence, it was supposed to be an insult... but the coiling of your lower intestines distracts you - and you try to dissuade your bodyㅡ”really… i can tell you're seriously holding back.” trying to act all nonchalant while beating your dicks on video chat.. fucking nerds.

"y-you're one to talk, look at you!!" he hisses, almost slamming his hand on the table as he grips the base of his cock. jesus. fucking loser ass nerds. "you're clearly about to cum. j-just look at your faceㅡwhat, do i get you off?? cmon, you can tell me.."

tell him that he gets you horny? as if, that fucking creep.

[glitteryinknotes]

Have you ever thought about how much of Astarion's appeal and charisma comes from Neil Newbon (his voice actor, if anyone in the community somehow doesn't know it) himself?

I think the latest find of the Baldurian community is discovering what happens after you find & approach Petras without Astarion in the team - he obviously tries to seduce you and lure you into Cazadorr's palace, repeating almost the same lines Astarion throws at Tav in the first act.

And he's so terrible at it. Like, you immediately feel something's off. Anyone with half a brain would immediately be alarmed.

It's got me thinking.

Of course Astarion's ultimate goal, as we meet him, is different - he's not trying to lead you astray at his master's command, but secure support from someone he's come to see as a powerful ally - but we still perceive him differently than this other attractive obscene seducer.

We all know Astarion is beautiful and a sexy vampire, tralalalala. Cazadorr picked his spawn all too well - none of his later slaves were as masterful "creations" as his first one. But don't forget that 100% intentional 10 charisma skill. Astarion's confident, cheeky, smooth - tongued, arogant, perfectly put together, way, way more attractive than his vampiric "siblings", he just has that special, intoxicating "something", but by right - he should not, by any means, be as charismatic as he is. We all know his terrible pick up lines, we all know how dorky and childish he can be when caught off-guard, we are aware just how borderline close to "cringe and desperate" his flirting techniques are, in the greater picture.

Yet we swoon over him because somehow this shtick works - through the sweet charisma he's technically supposed not to really have.

Where does it come from then? From Neil.

If you've ever watched any of Neil's streams, you'll quickly notice how much of a driven, confident and charismatic person he is. All in good taste, without ever coming across as full of himself. A genuinely amazing, passionate, incredibly talented and accomplished, but still kind and generous, beautiful human being. And all of those qualities - the best, healthiest kind of charisma - transfer to Astarion through the top - notch voice acting.

Imagine for a second what might have been if Astarion was voiced by someone still incredibly talented, with a great and fitting voice, but simply slightly less charismatic, a different kind of personality breathing life into him in the recording booth and in motion capture. Would we still get the same kind of character we've all come to adore so much? Would he be as convincing?

I don't have an answer to that - just something to ponder.

But I think that's also proof that some characters require an actor who becomes irreplacable in the role, just that one specific, one-of-a-kind type of person who will bring them to life exactly as they're meant to be. And we're so lucky Larian found Neil for Astarion, and Astarion found Neil.

[duckieflix]

♡ ୨`kusuo saiki`୧

☆ ⸝⸝  "i thought you coming here was a one time thing", she raised an eyebrow. "just make my coffee."

kusuo saiki x reader

warnings: swearing, toritsuka.

monthly allowance. something saiki had very little trouble obtaining but had almost too much trouble trying to spend. usually he would buy a cup or two of coffee jelly but unfortunately the store had sold out. they said they would receive their next shipment in a week, but he don't feel like waiting that long.

saiki searched online for cafes that sold affordable coffee jelly and stumbled across a store that looked appealing. joyous day cafe. it had just opened up a few weeks ago and had already become a hit, they sold cutesy deserts and of course, coffee. now, he doesn't usually approach populated areas such as this one, however their coffee jelly had amazing reviews and was even sold for an even better price.

the place was, surprisingly, not as busy as saiki initially thought. the exterior was made of brick, painted an off white colour. there was pink and white striped shades above the windows and the sign was small and hung on the wall. saiki debated on whether to enter not, it was still pretty early in the day which meant it could still get busy over time. he would have turned away then and there but as he turned on his heel a familiar face peered down at him.

"oh hey buddy!", nendo grinned down at the pink haired boy who internally grimaced at his presence. he should’ve just waited for the next shipment to get to the stores. “you goin’ in? let’s go together!”

saiki was about to shake his head but was stopped by another voice that added to his demise, “saiki? you’re here?” teruhashi. great.

all he wanted to do was taste this coffee jelly and go home. but of course, fate had different plans. soon he was joined by kaido, hairo, yumehara and toritsuka. this coffee jelly better be worth it.

once they finally entered the cafe, they sat at a large booth that had soft pink seats. saiki was stationed between nendo and hairo, he was thankful the seats were large enough for at least a small amount of space to be between each person.

a waitress walked up to them, a small smile on her face. she adorned a white button up shirt, black mini skirt with a frilly apron over it and black mary janes with frilly socks. her h/c hair was in a messy low bun and she held a pen and notepad in her hands. everyone immediately recognised her, it was y/n l/n from their class.

“oh! hey guys, fancy seeing you here!”, she smiled her eyes scanned the table and beamed at the familiar faces.

now surprisingly, saiki didn’t mind y/n’s existence as much as the others. only because y/n didn’t put in too much effort into being around him. she was very casual and didn’t smother him with unwanted attention like everyone else, for that he was thankful. their interactions were short, nothing more than a quick hello or a quick conversation about whatever was going on in class but it only lasted a few words.

“what can i get you guys?” y/n clicked her pen.

everyone began ordering, they all ordered the most popular or random dishes. bear shaped tarts, paw print waffles, galaxy tea? it was all so bizarre.

of course, saiki ordered his simple serving of coffee jelly. however, another item on the menu caught his eye. it was called the psychic special. obviously it was just a fun name but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the name. the small description stated it was a latte that had a random choice of latte art, if you guessed what the latte art was, you’d get your order half off.

y/n simply nodded and said she’d be back with their orders. toritska’s eyes wandered a little too far down for saiki’s liking, his gaze grazing against the back of y/n’s thighs. "who knew l/n was such a hottie? with legs like that she should be model!". these thoughts irritated saiki so, with enough force to inflict pain, yet not too much as to cause a scene, saiki kicked the purple headed male’s shin. when he yelped in pain, saiki smirked.

"perv"

the group began to babble about the cafe’s interior and admired the many cutesy decorations splattered everywhere. meanwhile, saiki had taken notice of a glass case that had a variety of hot steaming treats aligned neatly next to each other. it was right next to the register and also next to the machine that made the coffee, which happened to be where y/n was.

“hey saiki,” she smiled, “i saved you a small booth over by the corner, thought you’d want some peace and quiet away from that bunch” she pointed over to the group of teens that had suddenly started an arm wrestling match. currently, nendo was on a winning streak.

“you’re an angel in disguise, l/n” saiki nodded at her with his usual stoic expression.

“just doing my job!” y/n gave him a thumbs up before her expression turned quizzical, “what’s up with you coming here? not that i mind, just doesn’t seem like a saiki kinda place”

saiki continued to look at the treats through the shiny glass, “me being here is a one time thing, don’t get used to seeing my face.”

y/n just wordlessly nodded with a smile as he hobbled over to the booth that she saved. it was in a plant covered corner, there was a bookshelf to the left and a window to the right. it only had two chairs, one was occupied by saiki and the other was vacant. in between was a brown circle table. perfect.

a few minutes passed before y/n approached saiki with his order on a circular tray. a glass with a small white ribbon looped around the stem sat neatly in front saiki, the brown gelatin dish smiled up at him, a swirl of whipped cream sat atop the dessert. y/n placed a mug with a small umbrella like cover over the top that saiki assumed contained his 'psychic special'.

"now as you probably guessed, if you guess the latte art, you get your entire order for half of the original price" she slid the tray underneath her arm as she awaited saiki's response.

now obviously this was just a fun game that some people would play, a game of chance. except, this little game was nothing to saiki, being psychic and all, this was just way too easy.

"its a heart" he bluntly stated.

y/n lifted the cover to reveal indeed, it was a heart. she smiled at him warmly, "you're one of the first customers to get that right, good job saiki" she left his table after explaining she would be back with his bill. at this point, the cafe might as well be a restaurant.

when she left, saiki couldn't help but look at her longingly as she walked away. she was definitely one of the more tolerable ones, he couldn't believe he actually enjoyed her presence.

scooping up a chunk of the coffee jelly, he plopped the serving into his mouth and nearly melted at the taste. it was just the right amount of sweet and bitter, the cream made the jelly smoother than regular jelly. it was like heaven!

"holy shit"

after saiki had paid for his order, he waved goodbye to y/n.

"see you at school saiki! thanks for stopping by!" she saved at him, it was a miracle she didn't see the obvious flush of his cheeks. then again, saiki probably cooled himself down before anything could make an appearance.

"buddy! where were you?! we were so worried!" oh.

saiki had been so caught up in enjoying his meal that he forgot about the problems that awaited him. they seemed to have been standing outside waiting for his arrival, how dedicated. they all expressed their worry for his sudden disappearance which made his once amazing mood slightly falter.

they all started down the bricked path, saiki taking one final glance at the cafe. he looked at the building longingly, a strange warm feeling pooling inside of him. he had never felt something like this before, best to not do anything about it.

the bell that hung on the door frame rung throughout the mostly empty cafe, alerting the h/c haired girl behind the counter.

“welcome to joyous day, how may i-“ she stopped herself “saiki?”

our pink protagonist smiled fondly at y/n, something that was never seen. he adorned a pale blue polo shirt and black jeans. something casual yet classy for his visit.

“i’ll get what i ordered last time please” saiki pointed at his usual order on the small menu board, earning a skeptical look from the girl opposite him. she simply nodded.

she started to prepare the hot drink, although her eyes never left the psychic. her cheeks glowed at him, her heart rate picking up slightly. she never took him for the kind of person to become a regular at this establishment, she took him for a simplistic guy. not that she was complaining, if he was here a lot more she’d actually look forward to coming to work. unbeknownst to her, kusuo was feeling something similar.

“i thought you coming here was a one time thing?” she raised a brow.

“just make my coffee”

[sednas]

['CAUSE HE'S A F×CK BOY ─ s. gojo]

꒰ ͜͡➸ sorry what did you say? oh you want a virginkiller!gojo fic? with enemies to lovers vibes? yeah I might have this one in store for you. smut will be in the second part tho! (which will be posted in one week or five months, who knows! :))

pairing: virginkiller!gojo x virgin!fem!reader

tw: college!au, suggestive themes, virginity kink, (dub-con) make out session, gojo is annoying but hey what's new, sexual tension, light fem masturbation at the end

gojo satoru was the golden boy. the most intelligent student of his class, the most talented sports player of the school, the most popular guy of the campus, maybe even of the whole city. he was excellent at everything. people were too amazed by his talent to notice his arrogance and his condescending smile, too blinded by his bright blue eyes and his snowy white hair.

gojo was the best at everything, and it included fucking. hell, fucking was actually on top of the list. he had a cheerleader waiting for him every night in his room, sometimes he could just wink at a girl and she was already spreading her legs for him in the bathroom a few minutes later. he could have literally everyone, but what he liked best was virgins. he loved them, such good girls who managed to keep their innocence until college. they were always so easy, so pliant.

and the thing he mostly liked to do with them was fucking them so hard that nobody could ever compare after that. he wanted them to think about him every time they would fuck someone else, he wanted them to rub their thighs together while thinking about him years later, this is what he liked to do with them. of course, the thought of ruining them for their first time was also appealing, they were usually so shy and reserved, he liked to take them apart piece by piece, make them drool, and then cry, and then forcing them to look at themselves in the mirror, letting them see how the filthiest version of themselves looked like. and in the end, when they were too fucked to think, he made them say thanks.

and this was exactly what he wanted to do with you.

you were way more difficult than the others, doing your best to ignore his piercing blue eyes, answering by a simple nod of your head every time he was trying to start a conversation, leaving the room every time he was in.

yeah you were difficult, but satoru always got what he wanted.

“all by yourself uh?”

he startled you a bit, and he could see that you were already looking for a way out by the way your eyes were looking at everything but him.

he moved his body to be at the same height as you, looking at you through his glasses, and then he said your name in a sweet voice, smiling when he saw how easily he got you looking back at him, your face obviously flushed.

“finally paying attention to me mh? it's a shame that you don't look at me often, I really like your eyes, they're pretty.”

and he really meant it, you were telling him everything with those eyes, the way you were constantly daydreaming about him, how you were humping your pillow at night, imagining it was his thigh instead. yeah, very pretty eyes.

“I want to get to know ya.” he said with a smile, and he got closer.

he kept himself from laughing when he saw you taking a few steps back and then he stopped, not wanting to make you panic too much.

“here, gimme your phone.”

you obeyed after barely a few seconds, and it only confirmed what he was already thinking; you were wrapped around his finger even though you were trying to hide it.

“mmh cute wallpaper… alright I'm just gonna add my number to your contacts annnnnd… done!” he finally said, his relaxed smile still on his face, handing you over your phone.

he didn't let go of it immediately, making sure your hands brushed against one another, noticing the way your breath got stuck in your throat.

“call me okay?”

one month passed by and you never called, or even texted. gojo felt frustration for the first time in his life, and because of that he was rougher than usual when he was fucking a cheerleader, his thoughts always coming back to you, and the way you were still ignoring him even though you were fucking yourself with your fingers every night while thinking about him. he was starting to get tired of his own game, but still, he wasn't planning on giving up. and so when he saw you standing in the kitchen during that halloween party, a devilish grin appeared on his pale face...

it's already too late when you spot him across the room, his blue eyes are on you. you can barely think of an escape that he's already in front of you, wearing a black tuxedo, a white collar wrapped around his neck and long white victorian sleeves hugging his arms, and making the rings on his fingers look elegant.

“you didn't call me.“ gojo whispers against your ear, his long arms trapping you between his body and the kitchen counter.

you open your mouth but no sound comes out, your eyes try to escape his teasing gaze as you're sure he can see every little detail on your face by standing so close.

“I thought… I thought you weren't serious when you gave me your number.”

he chuckles, noticing how you're even more embarrassed to look him in the eyes when he hasn't his glasses on.

“I like your costume, it suits your body.”

you feel your skin grows hot, his voice so soft and intimate, his eyes trailing on your body from up and down. it feels like you're alone in the whole house with only him. and your heart is racing with fear and anticipation, as you bring your thighs together. gojo notices it, placing his knee between them before you can fully close them, making you gasp.

“so tell me something baby…” he starts speaking in a honeyed voice, his lips coming closer to your ear.

you blink at the nickname, his body weighting a little more on your own, your back uncomfortably pressed against the kitchen counter as your body slowly bent to accommodate to the awkward position.

“are you scared of me or something?”

a nervous laugh comes out of your mouth, turning your head to escape from his warm gaze.

“I'm not scared of you.”

he can tell you're sincere, but it only makes him want to know more.

“then why are you avoiding me all the time uh?”

he tilts his head to the side, eyes burning with curiosity and his teeth flashing at you when you finally look back at him.

“i'm avoiding you because… you're so annoying, and you fuck everyone you know and you're so arrogant, always thinking you're better than anyone else. I don't like you, at all.”

a few seconds of silence pass by while both of you just look at eachother, until a smirk slowly appears on gojo's face.

“I didn't know you were so mean.” he laughed. “but if you hate me so much why aren't you pushing me away right now?” his sultry voice keeps sliding on you like honey, his mouth so close to your skin, breath fanning over your neck.

he's right, and he knows it, smiling even wider when he sees you looking at the ground in defeat.

“that's what I thought.” he smiles, one of his hand sliding along the side of your jaw, the sudden touch making your heart skips a beat.

his pale hand looks good on your skin, you can feel his fingers squeezing lightly your throat and the atmosphere becomes more tense than before, he still has this grin, like he knows everything about you, especially how much you want him to touch you more.

you're a few seconds away from giving up, your body almost falling on the counter to let gojo fully rest on you. somehow his smirk grows wider when he sees you closing your eyes. you let out a little whine when you feel him pressing all of his body weight against you.

“that was a sweet sound baby, mind if you make some more for me?”

despite shaking your head no, you pressed your body against him, hungry for more, finding a new pleasure in being the center of his attention. his slender fingers find their way to squeeze your chest, drawing another whine out of your mouth.

“more…” he orders, the sound of his voice muffled against your skin.

you try to close your lips, in a poor attempt not to give in so easily, but your legs turn to jelly as soon as he puts his soft lips on your neck. one of your hands flew through his white hair as you gasped at this new sensation.

his hot tongue tracing kisses along your neck, he grabbed your hips, bringing you even closer, letting you feel his boner. you feel dirty, intoxicated, but the heat coming out of his body is addictive. you let out another sound and your fingers are now grabbing his shirt in a needy way, trying to get him even closer to you. you want more. you need more.

you suddenly open your eyes when you feel his warmth vanish from your trembling body. you watch him walk away in disbelief while he's wearing a wicked smile on his face.

“I think my friends are waiting for me… it was fun, you should call me later okay?” he winked at you before exiting the room without letting you have any time to react.

you're left here, breathless, blood pumping into your veins, eyes clouded with desire, a pool of arousal between your legs. your hands clench into fists, of course he did it on purpose.

your eyes are fixated on your phone as breathless sighs keep coming out of your mouth.

"fuck!" you let out an exasperated groan, throwing your head back into the soft pillows.

your fingers are still trying to reach that spongy spot inside you, you arch your back, lifting your hips in the air, hoping it will allow your fingers to touch deeper parts. but you're left unsatisfied again, your legs twitching in frustration. your head hit your pillow and your eyes go back to your phone.

"he would fuck me right." you mumble to yourself.

part two

jjk masterlist

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

[officialspec]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

[pythoria]

astarion is such a great character but one reason that stands out to me is how he turns the vampire stereotype on its head. vampires from their inception have been metaphors for sexuality, back in ye olden times when religious and cultural dogma repressed people's desires and forbade acting on them. they've always represented latent sexuality and people's increasing desperation. they were a fantasy that allowed people to imagine not being bound by societal rules, but by their internal hunger, giving into it and how that might feel, but more than that, how it might feel to be a victim of that. women, especially, were not allowed to express any desires, so the vampire taking whatever they wanted, as well as being desired for something as intrinsic to your being as your blood - that's a powerful fantasy. at its core, vampirism is about loss of control, and people who hold onto control very tightly in their lives will find themselves drawn to vampires as a form of catharsis.

but that's where astarion comes in and flips it around. he's far from the first character to explore the negative sides of vampirism, but as a long-term fan of many fictional vampires, i think he does it best. primarily because his story delves into the sexual aspect and the loss of control much more, while maintaining a lot of realism. his vampirism is very grounded in reality; he has real human feelings about it. the idea that people would find the powerful vampire overpowering them alluring is contrasted by the very obvious (to us, a modern audience) issues with consent involved. if the vampire cannot control their hunger, if they have no control over the desires they act on, that might sound appealing to someone who has never been allowed to act on *any* desire, but the reality of it is horrifying. it's being a victim of assault at your own hands. it's people using you and you being unable to express any discomfort, because what *you* want is always backseating what the vampirism demands. the liberating feeling of being able to act on your desires turns into the claustrophobia of being unable to deny them at all.

vampirism always came with downsides, of course. not being able to walk in the sun (being exiled from the world and polite society), not being able to see your reflection (a loss of self), dying and being reborn, but not coming back quite the same, never being able to return to the person you once were (giving up life itself, but not arriving in a religious heaven, rather staying on earth past your time, defying god, giving up the chance at eternal bliss for the inherently sinful continuation of the flesh), eternal life (losing everyone you love, seeing everything end) akin to eternal damnation in hell. all of these downsides, and yet, with astarion, even the good bits are tainted, or turned into something negative.

on top of that, the choice to damn himself for any supposed benefits of vampirism wasn't even given to him. he was turned against his will, kept against his will, had his freedom - the only thing worth anything to a vampire - taken away. he didn't escape from a life that boxed him in, he was ripped away from a life he dearly misses. but then again, considering his actions as a magistrate, it's also a sort of divine punishment by proxy, one that is entirely disproportionate to his crimes, in a way only something as extreme as vampirism can be.

obviously the proxy for all this is cazador, but he is merely a personification of the dark force vampires are slaves to. cazador exists because it's much easier for an audience to understand how little control a vampire has over his actions when they can point to someone and say "you're at fault, astarion is innocent, you forced him to do all of those awful things". but the truth is, cazador doesn't have to exist. cazador's compulsion could be replaced by an amorphous urge, coming from inside astarion, outside of his control, and his character would make just as much sense, except it would be harder for everyone (including astarion himself) to separate the actions from the person. imagine a dark urge character who wanted to be good, but the urge wasn't something they could resist. imagine an evil dark urge run, killing everyone, but entirely against your will. would you defend that character? would you be able to redeem them if one day the urge ceased? would you even be willing to wait, to give them time to break free? or would you just kill them, as a mercy on the world? there's no surprise that most people would stake astarion on sight. maybe he can be redeemed eventually, but what about the time inbetween?

yes, this all comes from dnd vampire lore, so it applies across the board, not just for astarion. vampire spawn exist as a different entity from a fully-fledged vampire because it allows the spawn to keep a part of their humanity, their soul, and have their morality exist separately from the call of the blood. all of this makes astarion fascinating, and also somewhat easier to analyse.

[daytaker]

The Demon Brothers React to Watching a Horror Movie with You

CW: discussion of gore (Satan)

I didn’t include the dateables in this one but if people want that, y’know…let me know.

Lucifer

"You frighten yourself... intentionally? Interesting."

He fails to see the appeal, quite frankly.

Not only does he not find them scary, he doesn't understand why you watch them if you do.

He's too used to playing the babysitter to take you grabbing his hand as an excuse for physical contact. He interprets it as you tapping out, so he'll pause the movie and give you an out.

Of course, if you insist on finishing the movie regardless, that's an interesting choice in and of itself.

What an opportunity to observe a tortured human psyche at work.

If you insist on holding hands at this point, he won't fight it. He is a bit more dubious than before, though. Are you really doing this because you're scared? You wouldn't happen to have any ulterior motives, would you?

He will gladly reassure you after the movie is over that you are always welcome to come to him for comfort if you're afraid in the middle of the night. You know where his room is.

Mammon

"Just so we’re clear, I ain’t afraid of no horror movies. Not even a little! Not even a teensy-tiny bit, all right? Like, seriously."

He's lying.

This isn't even headcanon stuff, this is just common knowledge.

Also common knowledge: he will insist on proving how cool and brave he is by watching a horror movie with you and protecting you from the monsters and gore onscrEEAAAUUUUGH???!!!

He wasn't scared, he was just startled.

And he's only up here on the lights fixture because he remembered one bulb was flickering earlier. There. He fixed it. He's just being responsible.

Anyway, if you're nervous and want to hold his hand, he understands. Humans are fragile as hell.

In fact, you don't need to stop at hand-holding. You can just hug hiMYEEAAGH!!!!

He's hugging you instead. He's being a good demon and taking care of his human.

Yes, he's in your lap. He thought you'd feel more secure that way.

Stop laughing!

Leviathan

"So I read that the film set for this movie was cursed by a mangaka who never got credit as an influence for the story..."

Time for some J-horror, obviously.

He read up extensively on the production before asking you to watch it with him. He figures he'll be less terrified if he has plenty of background knowledge about the film as an artistic piece to remind him that the happenings onscreen aren't real.

Instead he found a bunch of rumors about how the movie was cursed. But he'd already poured so much of his valuable time into researching it. Sunk cost fallacy: activated! You're watching this damn movie.

He's scared. He's so embarrassed to be this scared but he's scared.

When he's by himself, he doesn't mind that he spooks easily. He likes it. That's the fun of horror games and movies.

But with you here, he feels the pressure to be your emotional rock during the harrowing film-viewing process.

You can hold his hand. You know, if you want to. He gets it if that idea grosses you out, but he did wash his hands right before you got here, so...

If he gets too scared, the demon form comes out, and suddenly you have a scaly tail wrapped around your waist and webbed fingers clutching you.

He's sorry, it's just... It just happens sometimes, okay? Laugh it up, normie!

Actually, it feels kind of nice when you stroke his scales like that. If you really want to, you don't have to stop.

He is no longer watching the movie.

Satan

"This is an extremely unrealistic depiction of decapitation with a hacksaw."

There is nothing less scary than watching a horror movie with Satan, because his smart ass can't stop telling you about everything wrong with it.

The movie is starting. Are you nervous? He'll hold your hand. He has enough basic sense to at least get that part of the process right.

...That's not even close to how it looks when you disembowel a deer.

There's a lot more blood spatter than you'd expect when head wounds are involved. Apparently the special effects crew on this movie didn't do their due diligence.

Hmm, that's actually a pretty convincing amputation scene. Credit where credit is due.

Sorry, but he thinks that calling this one a "psychological thriller" is giving it a little too much credit.

Asmodeus

"Nooo! Ahhh, I can't take it, it's so scaryyy!"

He's not scared. Not even a little.

He's not even grossed out.

But he thinks that seeming terrified is cuter than seeming mildly amused and a little bored.

So before you start watching, he makes sure to lay down some ground rules.

If he's scared, he gets to hold your hand. If you're scared, you get to hold his hand.

If he's scared, he gets to hug you. If you're scared, you get to hug him.

If nothing scary is happening for more than five minutes, he's allowed to request a kiss. Just to keep you both from getting bored.

Why are sex scenes in slashers so awful? Even before the stabbing starts. They're just so... blah. It's disappointing every time.

Ahhh! There's the killer! He's so scared! He's going to hide his face in your neck and cling to you for dear life!

Beelzebub

"What's wrong? Why do you look so sick?"

Bro will eat nonchalantly through the most brutal and gut-wrenching scenes of gore, entirely unaffected.

And he will.

He will do that, right in front of you, and not even have the decency to understand why you have to go vomit.

He doesn't really get most horror films. But occasionally something will resonate strongly with him and he will become very quiet and potentially fairly upset for awhile.

If something reminds him too much of Lilith or her death, for example.

But even if that happens, he won't stop eating.

Belphegor

"Wake me up if something interesting starts happening."

Another one who is entirely unaffected by horror.

Nothing is more horrifying than living as himself in this fucked up world.

He's very annoyed whenever Mammon or Levi watches anything horror-related because their screaming makes it hard to sleep.

He doesn't mind if you scream though.

He can fall asleep to the sound of you screaming.

Take that however you wish.

[lexischococoveredblueberries]

Can you make a veneer x reader where reader is supposedly assistant but actually a super famous model/popstar? Velvet and Veneer only realize that their assistant was no ordinary person, (Veneer notices it first) but a celebrity more popular than them (Velvet only realizes when they go to reader's concert that Veneer begged Velvet to go with him) :3 (also reader took the job because they wanted to try having "a normal job" for once and for the possibility of making friends with other popstars) and can we choose our stage names ourselves?

my first request, thank u!!! i love this plot omg…, absolutely >o<

F/S/N : first stage name

L/S/N : last stage name

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚

• falling for fame •

veneer x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .・。

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door to their dressing room and

dashed down the hall. you had just finished helping

Velvet and Veneer get un-ready from their

performance, which was absolutely spectacular.

every time you watch them perform you’re taken

away by how they control an audience and how their

aura beams across the room. being their assistant ,

you kind of have to say things like that for appeal, but

you really meant it 99% of the time.

the other the majority of that percentage was from

what you took by watching Venner, though.

whenever you watched him dance and sing and

seem so relaxed, you can’t help but feel the urge to

start moving too.

maybe he was your inspiration when you decided to become your own star.

now out of the building, you hurried down a small

trail behind the overly large structure which led to an

underground neighbourhood that was lightened up

by old bulbs hanging from trees and cheap

streetlights. this place didn’t really have any

meaning , well, of course until you showed up.

you had finally made it to another building , where

you dragged yourself to your own dressing room.

after running up many stairs, you let your huge work

tote bag down and started undressing, throwing your

robe on as you waited for someone.

knock knock

there she was.

“come in,” you called and the door opened. Georgia,

your own assistant , came through holding clothes in

her arms and lots of small bags. she smiles brightly

at you.

“oh, y/n, thank goodness. i almost thought you

ditched on all of us.” she jokes, putting the outfit

down on your mini sofa beside your vanity which you

sat at. Georgia was a sweet woman, who was a

mother to a small boy, Finn, you had met one or

twice. she was a dream assistant to anyone who

wanted one that didn’t bark or bitch.

“i would never abandon you, Gia. the siblings were

busy today, Velvet wanted extra touch ups and such.”

you explained while Georgia set up curling irons and

laid out makeup brushes. you seen her smile slyly at

you.

“oh, really? it wasn’t because you got caught up

staring holes in the back of her brothers head? huh,

how strange.” she teased you, and you fought back a

huge smile that threatened to take up your whole

face.

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you

murmur, trying to hide the embarrassment in your

voice, but obviously failing.

you sort of wished Veneer would show up, if only he

knew. you weren’t sure WHY he didn’t know,

Velvet either, considering you were popular enough

for plenty of people to know about.

you tried to shrug it off, but you still felt weird about

it. you guessed they had better things to worry

about, that wasn’t you.

( performance ref pictures for anyone that wants them, if not then imagine to your hearts content )

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚

Meanwhile…

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door, and Veneer bit the inside of his

cheek.

“i wonder where she goes after her shifts.” he

wonders out loud, crossing his arms. Velvet looks at

him like he said something out of pocket, and she

scoffed.

“hm, well, i don’t really give a shit. she can do what

she wants, can’t she?” she said in a snarky tone,

gathering her things together and throwing her now

free hair into a loose ponytail. you did an amazing job

with being able to get all of the product out of their

hair , and Veneer only noticed how flawless it was

now.

Velvet headed towards the door and looked back at

Veneer.

“i’m heading home, Ven. you following ?” she asked,

raising an eyebrow. Veneer was still staring at the

door from when you walked out, but he looked at

Velvet and smiled.

“yeah, eventually. go on, i’ll get a ride later.” he

replied. Velvet kind of gave a side eye to a fake

camera and shrugged. “mkay.. ciao.” she closed the

door on her way out.

Veneer waited a second. two. three.

he scrambled, threw on a pullover hoodie and bolted

out the door, following after you.

he panicked half the time, hoping that he looked like

a janitor on his way home from his shift , and frankly

he did. he followed you out of the building and down

the strange path that he didn’t even knew existed,

but he tried not to question it.

he made sure not to get too close , but also not too

far away, not because he was afraid of losing sight of

you, but also to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.

now he saw what he walked into, a beautiful

underground neighborhood that almost looked like a

child’s dream treehouse. he was so taken aback that

he lost sight of you and began to panic. you

vanished in thin air, and he almost turned around to

run. but then he started hearing music, from a stage

from the middle of the grounds.

“what…” he whispered. he began walking towards it.

it took him a few minutes to get there, and when he

did, loads of people started flooding the ground, and

he became afraid of people recognizing him. he

pulled the hood further up but made sure to keep his

eyes on the stage. but it just got worse from there.

he could’ve swore the ENTIRE neighborhood was

flooded with people; 3x the crowd that Veneer and

Velvet get. Veneer began to over think.

‘Vel wouldn’t be happy about this…’ he thought to

himself, and he was about to leave again, when all

the lights on stage went off. people began cheering

and screaming as the sound of footsteps tapped on

the stage. the lights came back on, and Veneer seen

a tall lady standing at the front of the stage in a suit

holding a microphone

“you’ve all been waiting long enough! please welcome our loved, F/S/N L/S/N to the stage!”

more cheering commenced and Veneer was getting

confused. he certainly didn’t know that name. that

was until the lady left the stage and someone else

took the lead behind her.

Veneer froze.

“oh my god.” he said out loud. you appeared at the

front of the stage, backup dancers behind you. you

posed with confidence and gazed the crowd like you

owned it. he stood and stared like that’s what he was

born to do.

it was a magnificent performance.

As much as he adored Velvet and everything

she did was better than what anyone else

could do, he couldn’t say the same thing

right now.

he gazed and was lost in a trance; at the

way you danced, sung like you were holding

in a voice of gold since you were born and

controlled the audience with every striking

belt. this was probably the best show

Veneer has ever seen, and his heart

squeezed, wondering how this girl he swore

he knew ended up being someone

completely different.

after your performance, Veneer felt as if something

apart of him bloomed. that was all he needed to see

to feel complete. his supposedly normal assistant

was actually a pop star that he casually never knew

about ?

he wanted to go see you. he wanted to run backstage

and ask a million questions, but he knew he couldn’t.

not right now. instead, he ran off somewhere where

people weren’t and pulled out his phone and dialled

Velvet. she picked up after a few rings.

“what Veneer.”

“hi sis, uhm, were you AWARE that y/n, our

ASSISTANT, is a pop star???”

there was silence.

“…what the hell are you talking about? also where are

you??”

“listen, vel, i….i followed y/n here. i was curious of

her outside life and i accidentally discovered that

she’s super famous , and i kid you not that she’s

almost as famous as WE ARE. i’m bringing you here

tomorrow.”

“uhm. sure.” she sounded unsure.

“okay. i’m coming home.” he hung up and looked at

the stage one last time before leaving.

the next day…

after a long day of Veneer struggling to hide the face

that he knew about your “secret” , the time finally

came for Veneer to bring Velvet to your show. he

stood anxiously in their dressing room, picking at his

hands and clearing his throat repetitively. Velvet

noticed this as she was packing her things.

“uhm, what’s up with that? you’re the one that

wanted to bring me to her in the first place.” she

questioned, putting a hand on her hip as she

examined her brothers anxious gestures.

Veneer looked at her and suddenly stopped, running

his fingers through his hair.

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. let’s go?”

he tried to change the conversation. Velvet would’ve

protested but she kind of wanted to get this over

with, but of course she had to throw in a remark.

“you like her.”

Veneers heart pumped furiously as the thought was

put in his head.

“no. well.. no! velvet.” he became embarrassed by her

comment and suddenly wanted to disappear. she

laughed.

“you’re really bad at hiding your feelings. i’m your

sister, i would know.” she smirked and opened the

door. “move it.”

he shook his head and went out the door, Velvet

closing it behind him.

Veneer guided his sister to the underground tunnel-

ish place and she grimaced with her voice.

“oh my god, it’s like, damp in here. ew.” she

complained, pulling at the sweater that she wore.

Veneer wasn’t really listening. he was eagerly looking

around, wondering if he would spot you out and

about, hoping to have a conversation before you

performed.

they made themselves to the pit of the arena,

ushering off to the side so people wouldn’t look at them.

“it’s off putting that no one has noticed us yet.

almost upsetting,” Velvet said.

“maybe it’s the fact we don’t have three tubs of gel in

our hair right now?” Veneer replied, not meaning to

sound like a hard-ass but coming off as it anyway.

Velvet scoffed. “shut it.”

that’s when the people started flooding in, and

Velvets face went shocked.

“holy shit,” she whispered , looking around

frantically.

“there’s no way this is for y/n. she has ten times more

people than we do! ugh!” she became upset and

veneer blew air in his cheeks.

“that’s..what i told you.” he whispered to himself and

looked to the stage.

when the hundreds of people finally stopped coming,

Veneer knew this was the time. he could barely wait.

he was basically shaking in his boots, eager to see

you. to see you dance and steal the shine of the

stars. he couldn’t help but see you as the moon.

then, the lights went off,and Veneer nearly shrieked.

he felt like a fanboy to his own assistant; and he

didn’t know how to feel about that.

the announcer came on again, and that’s when the

lights came back on and he could see you, there,

with a gorgeous outfit and stunning makeup that

made you seem intimidating. he could’ve cried at

how beautiful you were, his heart throbbed in his

chest as he just wanted to climb on stage and join

you; steal your own show but make you the main

attraction.

Veneer was getting caught up with his thoughts the

entire performance, and the look on his sister’s face

was priceless. he couldn’t really tell if it was jealousy,

admiration or a combination of both. but in this

moment, he didn’t care what she thought , all he

wanted to do was watch and admire you.

there was a split moment when you were near the

edge of the stage, singing effortlessly like you always

do, and made direct eye contact with veneer.

the whole world stopped for both of you. Veneer was

lost in your eyes, you were clueless of why he was

here, but that butterfly feeling started in the pit of

your chest. you kept singing , didn’t miss a single

word, and carried on.

Veneer felt his face flush as he continued to stare like

a fool.

after another ground breaking performance, the

applause roared across the entire plot and you gave a

bow, giving Veneer a final look and thanking

everyone in your mic. heading backstage , Veneer

held the urge to run back as well, but he looked to

Velvet.

she was already looking at him, and her expression

was…soft.

“go, Ven.” she said, motioning her head towards the

backstage entrance.

he smiled at her. “thank you vel.”

he ran to the backstage, being able to sneak past the

guards and past the red curtains.

he stopped to look around and saw you stepping off

the stage stairs. you looked at each other.

‘she’s so beautiful in the dark.’ he thought to

himself, walking towards you and your mouth parted.

“veneer,” you started, trying to get words out of your

mouth while shaking your head. “you..you knew?

how? you brought velvet ?? why…why?” so many

thoughts came blurting out and Veneer took your

hand.

“i always knew. i knew you pursued something,

you’re the type of girl to do that.” he looked at you

with kind eyes, and you swallowed with a dry mouth.

“i..” you stopped, taking a deep breath, looking away

and looking back. “thank you, for showing up. that meant more than you really know. i didn’t tell in fear of trying to out run you and Vel. i’m sorry,” you explained, a slight panic in your voice, but Veneer sealed your worries with a gentle kiss to your hand.

“let me support you y/n. i want this for both of us.”

his words had an effect on your heart and you smiled

warmly. you brought his and your hand to your heart.

“ yeah. just you and me. oh, well, Velvet too.” both of

you shared a laugh.

FLASH

a bright light came from the backstage entrance ,

and paparazzi and kid ritz stood there with shocked

expressions on their faces.

“oh.” you both said in unison.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦

a/n: AHHH IDK IF THIS WAS TOO LONG OR NOT IM CHARACTER FOR VENEER HELP 😞 i apologize if this sucks lol but i had fun making it 💗 tysm for the support lately i love all of you + my dms are always open if any of u need a friend ! requests are open always unless said otherwise <3

[fefairys]

"The way Vriska introduces herself to John says everything about her, and about their relationship, and really, her relationship with everyone. She forcefully interrupts a moment that is deeply important and emotional to him, thereby probably denying that opportunity from ever happening again, just so she can insert herself into his life and force him to pay attention to her. Now here she is again, being kind of rude (e.g. calling him stupid), but more than that, being vaguely obsequious overall, which is something about her I was harping on in the last book. Vriska cozies up to certain kinds of people, namely those she wants something from or feels will elevate her status by association. John's the perfect mark for the manipulative, ass-kissing games she plays. Since we're in the Vriska Zone now and forever, I'll just keep talking about her. It bears more examination of how her manipulation strategy seems to deftly blend ass-kissing and aggression. Successfully manipulative, sociopathically charismatic people tend to have this balance down to a science. The strategy seems to involve controlling the interplay between flattery, appealing to common interests, charming or flirtatious rhetoric, and little jabs, negs, or outright insults to keep the target off-balance. The target gets sort of hooked by the fascinating spectacle, intrigued, and strangely disarmed. Too much flattery results in suspicion, too much negativity is a turn-off (or taken to an extreme like Karkat, results in not being taken seriously at all). The barbs mixed in with the flattery are effective because they lead the target to think, "If this person really wants something from me, why would they insult me?" Of course, this is how pick-up artists operate, which isn't far off from Vriska's mindset when pursuing her goals—which, although more broad than romantic goals, are still mixed in with them, with the end result being part of the overall power play. Over the course of her tactics focused on John to make herself more relevant, when actual romantic designs start seeping into the fabric of her manipulation campaign, that's when it all starts to get...A Little Bit Weird.

We've already seen a lot of Vriska's tactics on display in Hivebent, with mixed results. By now she's had a lot of practice, and she's bringing all her skills to bear on the perfect rube for her schemes, this nerdy, gullible Egbert kid. The romantic angle that surfaces from this effort, as I just implied, is vaguely troubling. How else to describe it... ? Icky, maybe? Something is off about it, and we feel that more than John does, obviously because we know a lot more about her than he does. For Vriska, are the romantic desires real? Is she such a mess inside that she wouldn't be able to tell whether the feelings are genuine or not? It's more likely that it's all about the ego boost, the power trip involved with grooming this hapless fool into the thing she wants him to be, and hoodwinking him into feeling something for her. But for him, it's probably more sincere. His first awkward experience with romance, albeit one contrived by a manipulator. Too bad he has no idea that none of this even has anything to do with him. It's still just about Vriska's gamesmanship with Terezi, who is another person exhibiting many of the aforementioned qualities of a manipulator. Terezi just uses hers to target a different boy. Both are highly successful with their boywork, but they take very different approaches." -Andrew Hussie

[oikasugayama]

Hihihi! Can I please please please request BSD men with an older fem! s/o? Especially Dazai, Kunikida, Sigma and Fyodor but feel free to add more! I have this very distinct convo in my head that I can’t stop thinking abt and it goes smth like this:

~

*Dazai doing his usual women flirting, holding your hand and staring up at you with sparkling doe eyes and rosy cheeks*

Reader: “Oh, I’m truly flattered, darling, but it’s just that a boy like yourself…you’re just a bit too young for me.”

Dazai: “Young? Well, my dear belladonna, I don’t under-“

Reader: “I’m 43, honey.”

*He is visibly surprised, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape and eyes widening before he recovers, a charming smile slipping on once more.*

Dazai: “Well then, ma’am, I must say that you aged like a fine wine because you don’t look a day over twenty-one! I know that I’m probably inexperienced compared to you, but at least give me a chance to prove myself!”

~

Idk man, I just need BSD men with an older woman, who is mature and elegant and maternal and experienced.

i cringe so hard every time someone writes dazai saying b****d**** to his partner 🤢 sorry anon, it had to be said.

Dazai's is smutty, Kunikida's is fluffy.

Dazai likes the mature look, he likes the well-developed body, he likes the attitude and casual confidence that comes with an older woman. a hint of gray at the edge of a woman's bangs makes him start the chase. he looooves gentle aging on the face, thinks mature women are so beautiful.

he definitely chases them for short relationships, nothing serious. he'd like to take them out, spend some time being a young little shit and flirting his balls off, only to turn into putty in the older woman's hands when she suggests he come back to her place, because he's so young and must have a roommate, so they'd have more privacy at her place ;)

he tires to take the lead, but he usually inevitably lets the older woman tell him what to do because he wants to do exactly what she wants. of course the woman is usually pleased to know such a good looking younger man is so attracted to her, and of course she wants that hot man on top of her, but with her age comes experience and she's gonna make sure they both have an excellent time when he gives her the reins.

dazai likes the most when his partner takes her shirt and bra off and her boobs lower and naturally hang. he likes playing with them, sucking on them, especially when the woman runs her hand through his hair and holds him. if he has a complex because he didn't know his mother, no he doesn't. don't talk about it. while in this position one woman says to him "drink up baby, don't you like mommy's titties?" and it makes his dick throbbbbb.

from then on he realizes he likes calling women mommy in bed more than he likes being called daddy. he wants a hot mommy to play with, he wants to get pussy drunk, thrusting desperately and rapidly, chanting/moaning "mommy, mommy, mommy," while she tells him he's a good boy and he can cum in her pussy whenever he's ready.

Meanwhile, Kunikida...

His ideal woman is older than him. obviously he gives up most of his ideals after his coworkers make fun of it and tell him it's unrealistic and honestly kind of disrespectful to women, but one thing he knows for sure: he just prefers older women. he thinks they're beautiful, he loves how intelligent and experienced they are, he loves when they give him advice on things they've experienced already that he's only going through for the first time, he loves how confident they are, he loves that they're independent, he honestly can't think of a thing he doesn't find appealing about an older woman.

when he's ready to date, he specifically approaches mature looking women. he gets to know several, dates around for a short while, but relatively soon he finds The One. She's beautiful, she's intelligent and kind, she's independent but enjoys having his company.

They get serious quickly and within a year they've decided to move in together to save on costs, so he moves into her home. he enjoys waking up to her and having another presence in his home. it's very comforting and something he missed after moving out of his family home and into the ADA dorm.

he's SO proud walking around town holding his partner's hand. he isnt very fond of PDA and it isn't the most acceptable thing, but a simple hand-hold is enough to show that they're partners in a fairly subtle way.

kunikida isn't ashamed at all if/when someone asks if they're related rather than dating; he always very politely says they're partners and deflects any further conversation.

he will NOT take shit from his coworkers about his partner. he tells them off so harshly the first time they try that even dazai doesn't make jokes about the age difference anymore, unless he's drunk like at the ADA holiday party when he called kunikida's partner a MILF right to her face, making her toss her head back and laugh. she didn't mind, so kunikida let it slide.

[derlost]

Do you still take requests? If so then can you pls do ftm!bunny!bottom!reader x master? I have a little story in mind where the master takes in reader after seeing them chained up in an alleyway, obviously abused

You're not the only one currently hyperfixating on bunny boys lmao

Heart To Heart ~ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

ABOUT: In which you, a lonesome bunny boy cast out by the world, find your place once more.

WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, injuries, bruises, mentions of past trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of sex, mostly fluff, FEM DNI.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hello there anon!! I really enjoyed writing your request. You didn’t specify if you wanted any nsfw or anything like that, so I kept it sfw and mostly just fluff and hurt/comfort. I got a little bit carried away, so the story is a tiny bit long. :)

🐇🧸🍰🤍

You lived, quite frankly, a pitiful life. The beginning of your life was wretched, and the circumstances of your birth were rather upsetting- which led to you being placed in the hands of a hybrid shelter. Some found the places to be comforting and homey, others found their existence to be a monstrosity in and of itself. The rich, being wealthy and without a care in the world, would often invest in buying themself an animal hybrid or two to keep them company. Some hybrids enjoyed this life- living pampered at the feet of a rich man or woman, napping day in and day out, being treated to gourmet food for every meal. Others, however, were more apprehensive about this. They were still human- even if only part- so why were their only options at life to obey to someone stronger than them or to suffer?

Cat hybrids were the most popular- They sold the best in shelters. Something about their fluffy ears and tails made them wanted- that, coupled with the training they underwent to make them more ‘appealing’ to an owner. Cat hybrids would learn to purr, mewl, hiss…the lot. They got the biggest cages, and they were treated to warm baths and clean clothing until the day they would be adopted and ensured a life of comfort.

Dog hybrids were also quite desirable- and while they didn’t sell as well as their feline counterparts, they were still deemed adorable by many. They were taught to bark, roll over, and behave on a leash, all traits that the rich would fawn over easily. That, and they were considered less inquisitive than other species- less likely to ask why they were being trained, less likely to try and escape, less reluctant…all they knew was their owner.

Bunny hybrids, like you, were sadly not very sought after. It wasn’t that you were common- quite the opposite, actually- it was just that there was less known about your kind. Your kind was known to be meek and skittish, and, like bunnies, you would often retreat and hide the second something displeased you. Of course, this didn’t go over very well in the market- what purpose was a hybrid pet if they couldn’t obey? This led to an endangerment of hybrids like you- and even mistreatment. It was rare for creatures like you to be adopted- which, of course, led to dozens of bunny hybrids growing depressed, making them less desirable in the eyes of the rich. It hurt you- when you were growing up, you went through the same training that any cat or dog hybrid would- and yet you were unwanted.

That was, however, until a rich man, the ceo of a popular electronic company named ‘Oxtech’ named Sebastian Oxford came along, and decided he wanted you. You remembered that day well- when his rough hands picked your scrawny body up out of the cage, and he cooed words of praise and comfort into your fluffy lop bunny ears. He put you on a pink leash, but you didn’t mind- you were simply happy to have an owner. The entire limousine ride home, he kept you safe in his lap and rubbed your ears, eliciting soft giggles from you. He seemed so very happy at this- at you. So when you arrived at his mansion, you did not expect to see four other hybrids curled up around his house.

The felines, Delta and Lunar, a clear mated couple, only ever glared and hissed at you. The two would often lounge around inside one of the many living rooms, cuddling, or, when your owner wasn’t looking, kissing. It almost seemed like they dared you to tell Sebastian- that they would silently taunt you with the reality that they could easily claw you to bits, should you disappoint them. The puppy, Renson, seemed rather impartial to you, thank the heavens. He spent most of his time outside in solitude, and wasn’t really close to anyone. That said however, Renson did have a bit of a…complex. He’d bark when he wanted something, and would whine and howl if he didn’t get it. A few times, he even chased after you, jaws full of fangs bared, mistaking you for the prey that you were. There was another bunny in the household, Prince. Prince definitely seemed better off than you- and even the sight of him made you feel self conscious. He was a rather cute bunny with fluffy white ears that pointed straight up to the sun, not a hair out of place. He was far more modest than the other house pets- preferring to wear button ups and sweaters to cropped hoodies and tank tops. Prince was quite visibly Sebastian’s favorite- he was always by the human’s side, always eager to please his master. The bunny seemed conflicted by your presence- part of him seemed to want to treat you as family and to curl up beside you on cold nights, but the other half of him appeared to view you as competition.

Sebastian seemed uncaring of the competition going on in his house- in fact, he acted as if he loved all of you equally, something you knew wasn’t true, but decided to ignore. You got your very own room- and while it was small, it was a million times better than your cage at the shelter. The day after you arrived at his mansion, he seemed to want to get a feel for you- taking you to breakfast, bringing you to his morning golf session with his friends, and even keeping you in his lap while he worked for the rest of the day. You were happy - very happy. He said he loved you, and who were you to doubt it? For that day, you were the happiest bunny alive.

It didn’t last long, however. You mistook his kindness to be genuine, when in reality, his underlying motive was clear. He invited you into his bed that night- and you had expected to simply curl up and rest beside your master. So when Sebastian ordered you to bend over, you were lost. You truly believed, up to that moment, that he had your best interest in mind. When you hesitated, he insulted you, and when you flat out refused to let him use your body, he beat you. Your ears went flat against your head, and you sobbed through the entire night, the sting of the paddle against your skin never dulling.

This pattern continued until Sebastian came to the conclusion that you were defective. Perhaps you were simply not trained well enough- or maybe you even had mental issues. No matter how many times he would litter bruises all over your lithe body, you would never submit- you never agreed to let him have what he wanted.

Exactly five days after he first adopted you, he dragged you back out of his mansion. You sobbed and cried as he pulled you out by the same pink collar that you had only days ago adored, writhing as it choked you and blocked your ability to take in air. Sebastian stuffed you into his car and ripped out of the driveway, leaving you trembling in the backseat. After about fifteen minutes or so of driving in silence, his car screeched to a halt, and he stepped out, only to pull you out of the vehicle and slam the door. Insults spewed from his once gentle mouth as he pulled you through the rain, eventually leading you into a dark and dimly lit alley. His once gentle hands were now rough and uninviting, throwing you to the cold concrete as he chained you to the fence. Your pleas and apologies fell on dear ears- and you couldn’t tell if it was the rain or your very own tears that blurred your vision as Sebastian drove off.

The sun had set, then risen, then set once again before anything new happened. You had felt hungry, then nauseous, then hungry again- your stomach felt as if it was eating itself from the inside out. Your ears were flat against your head, and there was no doubt in your mind that in this moment, you looked worthless. The chains made it difficult to sleep- leading to purple bags forming under your once bright eyes. You came to the conclusion that this was it- that you would die here, after living a pathetic and cruel life. To your surprise, however, that was not what ended up happening. In the night, you woke to a human calling out for you. Your eyes fluttered open at their first steps into the alley, and your ears perked up as they called out.

“Hello?” The human called out in a deep and mildly panicked voice. At first, you yourself began to worry- until you settled down with the realization that he might be here to help. As he got closer, your form became clearer- and at the sight of your eyes being open and your chest still rising and falling, he cracked a toothy grin. “You’re- holy shit, you’re alive!” Your nose twitched, and you watched the human with curious and wide eyes. He seemed to pick up on this, and he slowed his pace, putting his hands up. “I-I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? I’m gonna get you out of here.” You let out a meek whimper as his hands worked at the padlock on the chain, clearly trying to free you. After a good minute of twisting the numbers along, he let out an agitated sigh, and let go. “Here, let’s try something else.” He pulled out a pocketknife, and you froze with fear, only for him to immediately reassure you. “It’s okay, little bunny, I’m just gonna cut this collar off. I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear on my life.”

A soft noise escaped your throat as he touched your neck, holding you tenderly as he sawed the blade through the collar. The second that the fabric finally snapped, you doubled over- with the man there to catch you before you fell. He immediately put the pocketknife away and pulled you into a hug, stroking your hair as you nuzzled into his neck. “Can you speak, princess?” He asked quietly, and after some hesitation, you nodded, a few words of annoyance falling from your parted lips. “I’m not a girl.” He seemed to accept this rather quickly, and murmured out a gentle apology. “Can you…tell me your name?” You opened your mouth, and out croaked ‘M/n.’ “M/n?” the human questioned, and you felt yourself nod. He smiled once more, gently brushing his fingers against your ears. “My name is Grayson. i’m gonna help you now, is that okay?” You let out an exasperated ‘yes’, and went lax in his arms as he picked you up bridal style. Grayson dutifully carried you off to a rather run-down apartment building, carefully setting you down as he slid his keys into the door, unlocking it with haste. Grayson gently hauled you off to a sub-par, rather empty looking bedroom, and before you knew it, you were out cold.

You woke up what felt like a few hours later, your head rid of any pain, and your injuries patched. As you sat up, you looked down- only to see that you had clearly been given a sponge bath, changed into fresh clothes, and bandaged up. You ran a hand through your hair with a sigh and slowly clambered out of bed, your feet quiet as they hit the soft carpet. Slowly, you crept out of the room and peeked out of the door, only to see Grayson facing away from you, tending to the stove. As you crept into the kitchen, he seemed to hear you, and turned around with a smile.

“M/n, I was just gonna wake you up. Did you sleep okay?” You nodded, allowing a soft smile to play on your lips as you take a seat on a barstool at the counter. He poured what appeared to be soup out of a pot and into a bowl, sliding it over to you alongside a napkin and a glass of water. “It’s chicken noodle soup,” Grayson said softly, taking a seat beside you as you hesitantly began to chew on a piece of chicken. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you set your spoon down, and turned to him slowly. “Why did you save me?” You asked quietly, waiting for a response. Grayson sighed and raked a hand through his hair, his eyes snapping to you. “I find the idea of people like you being sold to be pretty dumb.” You quirked a brow. “Dumb? Really?” He nodded, propping his chin up on his hand. “Yes, really. You’re still human, you still feel things. You aren’t the first one i’ve found chained up and alone.” You stiffened at his words, relaxing only as the human gently rested his hand on your back. After a long pause and a few bites, you spoke up again. “My owner did it to me.” Grayson watched you inquisitively, his eyes softening. “He adopted me and made me feel so happy. And then he…he took me to his room and…” Tears began to well up in your eyes, and Grayson hushed you, patting your shoulder. “I understand, M/n. I’m so sorry.” You nodded drearily, indulging yourself in another spoonful of chicken soup. It wasn’t gourmet by any means- but something about it truly felt better than all the meals you had at Sebastian’s place. “I just…I just don’t wanna be alone, you know?” Grayson nodded glumly, looking away as if your words seemed to resonate with him on a more personal level. “I like…I like to help people, but I don’t want to serve someone. I just wish I could find my place…” Grayson sighed once more, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of you as he spoke. “You could stay here. I know it’s not the best place, but…my roommate just moved out, and i’d be more than happy to help you out. I…actually, i’m majoring in hybrid studies and safety at my college. I want to help- and maybe helping you can be the start of that.” You nodded once more with a soft smile, taking another spoonful of the soup. “I haven’t had canned soup before,” you murmur, casting the human a glance. Grayson chuckled nervously, “Is it bad? I’m sorry I can’t afford better, I-” “No,” you cut him off, your eyes softening as your ears perk up. “It’s…this is nice. You’re nice. I appreciate this.”

He looks away, and while you don’t see it, he smiles.

Over the next few weeks, you and Grayson became a whole lot closer. He helped you move into the spare bedroom in his apartment, and even took you to go clothing and grocery shopping. Quite a few times, passersby in public complimented him for having such an adorable bunny boy- and his heart would swell with pride every time as he answered that you are not his pet- you are simply his companion, and he’s so very lucky to have you.

Your bruises and cuts heal, and soon, the yellows and purples fade back into the shades they were before. You start to relax around him- even falling asleep in his arms on the couch. You no longer have to fear that you’ll wake up alone, and you don’t need to worry about where your next meal will come from- Grayson has it all covered. Some nights, when you doze off on the couch, he’ll chuckle to himself, and kiss your forehead before carrying you off to your room and tucking you into bed.

He’s taught you about the world- things the shelter, nor Sebastian, would ever dare to say. Grayson brings you books from his college library, and every day when he gets home, he cuddles up beside you and explains all the concepts to you. He teaches you about history- about the wars that have occurred all over the world- and about science, from how fish can breathe underwater to our solar system. You would help him with dinner, and you two would delight in the food you managed to make together. And suddenly, the memories of the shelter and of Sebastian start to fade- and suddenly, you realize, you have found your home.

🍰🤍Author’s note 2: I hope you guys liked it!! I tried my best to make it not feel rushed but to also not make the story feel super long. Once again, I really enjoy writing requests, so if anyone has any ideas, please make sure to let me know! I also really appreciate feedback, it lets me know that people like my work. Have a lovely day everyone!