#to answer in 2nd person formal like its so good

[harpygon]

The fight between writing in german bc the formal and informal you allow for more subtle power play in conversation and writing in english because it has more detailed words for the 18th century dress.

[elioslover]

Masks On (Harry Styles x reader x smut).

Premise: Harry finally visits a sex club and what are the chances, you just so happen to be doing the same thing.

Word Count: 8k+ / Other Writing

Warnings: Smut from start to finish. P in V, Unprotected sex, literally all the sex things, just pure FILTH. Afab 2nd person (minimal OC description).

Also, shout-out to @justmeinatree for the encouragement and @caramello-styles for being such a sweetheart!

🍒

Harry feels the energy shift as soon as he steps out from the mass of thick, velvet curtain that worked to shield the utter filth that lay just beyond. The club- as referred to, looks more like a converted condo, with walls dyed with deep hues, ultraviolet lights instead of harsh bulbs, and purple and red bounce across the room- the floors, the ceilings.

Though the room is busy, everyone is scattered, and it feels spacious enough. Harry observes the array of beds and sofa’s instead of tables and chairs; people are going at it, moans mixing in with the deep bass emitted from nearby speakers.

Patrons- dressed in only bowties and Grecian inspired masks, carrying trays of beverages and sex toys with a formality that seemed foolish for a play like this. The pretty penny Harry had paid to be here was clearly being put to good use.

The entire thing screamed ‘filthy rich fun’, which, even for Harry, seemed almost awestriking; it was the type of elite secrecy one would never dream of, and if he had any doubt about joining this evening, it was erased the minute a waiter appeared before him, offering up a glass of whisky he wasn’t even sure he had ordered.

To be fair, after such an effort to simply enter this place, plenty of hoops to jump through and many questions to be answered and confirmed, it only made sense that the owners would ensure it was more than worth it.

Harry put the crystal to his lips, downing its contents in an anxious bid for comfortability. Instead, it burned at his chest and sent a long shiver down his spine; he shuddered, his skin sprinkled with goosebumps.

Ridding himself of his blazer, white tank top, leather loafers, and other personal belongings when he arrived, assured they would stay safe in his absence, Harry now stands in only a pair of black briefs. They cling to his thighs, pinching at the meaty expanse of his soft skin, diffing into and trapping a few of the hairs growing at the base of his pelvis.

But Harry could be fully nude for all he cares- the platinum, Phantom of the Opera mask that covers the top half of his face and stops at the bridge of his nose has him feeling invincible and fucking frisky. He feels like the god he impersonates, ready to delve into the mass of bodies stroking and loving on one another, his cock twitching against the restricting cotton as confirmation.

The beds are king-sized, holding space for at least four, and a few are evidently occupied by many more than that. Sheer material is draped across the ceilings like a canopy, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Harry heads over to an empty velvet green chaise lounge, plopping down lazily, his legs spread out, thighs splayed, his one arm resting on the armchair, his other palm laying out across his lower stomach.

He turns his attention to the nearest bed, only a meter away, and begins watching as a throuple of two males and a female are switching positions. The girl lays on her stomach, flat against the bed, ass up, as the first man crawls up, spreads her ass cheeks apart and rubs his cock against her once before thrusting himself up into her. They reach a smooth rhythm, skin slapping as the second man lines up behind them, wrapping his arm around the torse of the first man; with a loud moan, the first man bucks forward, only moaning louder as the second man falls into position and starts fucking into him.

Harry hasn’t noticed the way his hand has lowered, palming himself through his briefs, his body shifting to get more comfortable. On the same bed, another couple goes at it, a woman vigorously bouncing atop the cock of a man donned in a lion mask.

In the midst of it all, bodies thrusting and shifting- you are resting sweetly, sitting atop your folded legs, disguised by a black, sequined silver mask, stopping above the nose, your eyes so sharp that Harry spots them immediately, hooked on the way the fluorescent lights flicker the reflection of filth he has succumbed to. His first thought is about who you are, his second is why you’re currently here, and the third is the only one that really matters; how the hell can he get his hands on you?

Dressed in only your underwear, you have had your gaze set on Harry from the moment the curtains had pulled back and revealed him in all of his glory. He was a mass of chocolate curls and tattoos decorating a chiselled and muscular figure that had you wishing you could get your hands on.

For a while, he had seemed nervous, and that only had your curiosity blowing through the roof, your body aching to wrap around any part of him up for grabs. As he made his way over, your heart was in your throat, attention completely thrown from the couple you had intended to participate with just moments prior. They were going at it regardless, bumping up against you, but your focus would be unwavering, your mouth watering at the view of his thighs, thick and spread out just for you.

He seems to be looking your way- maybe just observing the other couples, but something tells you by the way his body shifts, his eyes hidden but holding your own gaze, makes you feel like he might want you just as you want him.

A woman, her hair long and auburn, hidden behind a green dragon mask, drops onto the bed beside you, her knees softly hitting the mattress as she whispers suggestively into the shell of your ear. Cheeks flushed, your gaze remains on Harry, with the way he managed to stir such wanting in you, all by just sitting across the room.

His intrigue seems to pique, waiting to see what your plan was- were you going to entertain the woman next to you? Her cool fingers tickling their way up your spine, your body an eruption of goosebumps.

And you wish he would just come over or that you had the confidence to greet him yourself, but he seems comfortable and unwavering, leaving you to turn your attention back to something actually tangible; the woman currently pressing her lips to the nape of your neck.

Shifting your body to greet her own, you sit up on your knees and boldly wrap your hands like a chain around the back of her neck. She leans into your touch, anticipating your next move, a soft gasp escaping her lips as yours pressed on firmly, tongue licking into her own.

Your eyes have fluttered shut, your body soothed into the sultry kisses sucking at your bottom lip, but your thoughts wander over to the man on the couch, hoping to some god that he might be watching, that he might be regretting the choice to stay put.

Lips parting for deep inhalation, the woman’s hands are soft and static as they trail the soft mounds of your skin, and when your eyes finally open in the hopeful search of the man, you are more than surprised to find him much closer now, standing at the end of the bed.

His gaze is certainly set on your own, and you want to feel bashful at the circumstances, but the erotic stimulation happening all around you and the way Harry is looking at you hungrily, his muscles flexing involuntarily, only dampens your panties further, has your thighs clenching tighter.

He must notice because his pupils are blown, and he is crawling over now, slowly stalking out his prey, happily trapped in the arms of an auburn woman. He is more than welcome, though, your back pressing into the woman's chest, her lips still tickling at your throat, and when he comes to a halt at the base of your knees, you feel zero embarrassment as they part as a welcoming gift, offering him anything he desires.

“Well, hello pretty girl.” He greets, his cock throbbing as your chest raises and you take a sharp inhale, blinking at him in a way that has him feeling like a sinner- and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Hi handsome.” You respond, doing your best to keep your voice from cracking, almost completely distracted by the look of arousal in his eyes that seems to be increasing at just the sound of your voice, like a siren song only luring him further into the ocean in which you resided.

Harry can hardly stop himself from sighing out, from snatching you up and fucking you into submission, instead taking his time in luring you closer, his cock pleased at the ease with which you opened up for him, mind a mess of where to start.

He taps your thigh as an instruction, satisfaction shivering at his spine as you comply, spreading your legs, bum pressed flat to the mattress. Harry can't stop himself from wrapping his palms around your ankles, tugging you forward with enough force to have you exhaling a squeak, the woman’s grip tightening around your chest.

He looks at you like you are supper, his hands trailing their way up your calves, stroking slowly; as he reaches your thighs, he gives them a selfish squeeze, crawling his way over until he is almost face-to-face with the white lace of your panties.

His breath is cool as it fans over the heat of your lower abdomen, legs threatening to quake, and his grip only tightens, his stern stare never wavering, watching your every breath, the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

With the gentlest of kisses to your panty-clad crotch, you cannot withhold the deep sigh that slips past your lips, a keen whine whistling its way over to him, his stomach clenching, blood rushing to his cock. Harry’s tongue slips past his plump lips, licking a firm strip up your damp lace, his mouth watering in synch.

His left hand finds a firm home on your hip, helping to keep you pinned between the bed and his touch; his right-hand trails tauntingly along your sternum, fingers dancing into the dip of your belly button, playing your hipbones and pelvis like a harp before a sudden gush of coolness catches you off guard and his thumb hooking into the slit of your panties, tugging them aside in one firm go.

Your eyes widen with lust, unable to look anywhere but at the holy sight below you; the woman cradling your torso presses her lips wherever space omits, travelling in search of the mounds of your breasts, and your entirety is begging to turn to mush in the arms of pleasure as Harry leans forward and gives your pussy the gentlest of kisses, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses another, then another, his tongue joining in to lap at you, dipping into you.

He holds you in place with ease- where the hell would you rather be right now? And as the auburn woman latches her teeth around your pebbled nipple, your leg’s part even further- if possible- prompting Harry to release you from his prior grip, to hold you at the waist, his body pressed into the mattress, his cock flush and swollen from even the slightest of friction.

He can't stop from thrusting forward as a soft mewl slips past the gaps in your teeth, tongue pressing into you, gliding up your slit, flicking at your clit before his free hand cannot help but join the mix, massaging at your inner thigh, teasing at you as you buck your hips up in anticipation. 

It's difficult to keep from sighing out in pleasure, but you try your best, harshly capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, tugging harder as Harry continues licking into you, flattening his tongue, flicking it against your clit, dipping into your entrance. 

He has died and gone to heaven; his chin is coated in you, glistening under the neon lights, and with one hand still stroking and squeezing at your inner thigh, Harry uses the other to hook into the bands of your panties, hastily guiding them down the hills and valleys of your body and you assist, ass raising from the mattress, balancing on one leg as he slides the material along and off of your skin. 

Discarded and dismissed, you are bare and spread for him, a sight Harry will be committing to memory, and he looks at you hungrily- you’re ready to be ravished.

Your pussy is practically dripping, and Harry’s hand must be possessed because it reaches out, and his finger glides through your slit, quickly dampening. The sigh you release is almost sinister, and Harry has his face buried between your thighs in an instant. 

With his tongue licking at you, the almost forgotten auburn woman is still trailing kisses along your neck, her fingers tweaking and squeezing at the skin of your breasts. You are officially a mess of pleasure, ready to beg for more- anything- all of him. 

It’s like he reads your mind as his fingers start to tease at your pussy, rubbing back and forth, his tongue focusing on your clit, swirling circles, his middle finger slipping past your entrance with such ease that Harry mutters, “fuck me” and lets it slide all the way in, curling upward. With such positive reception from yours truly, he keeps at it, all of his focus dedicated to pleasing you. 

With the way his one finger becomes two, pumping into you with such vigour, you are writhing beneath him, thighs threatening to clamp around his head like earmuffs, blocked by his one hand keeping you put. 

Your head starts to lull back into the auburn woman’s lap, but Harry is quick to correct this, pulling out his fingers completely, sticky and wet, his mouth changing from loving on you to scolding, 

“Uh, uh.” He taunts, his brows furrowed, “Eyes on me, princess.” 

You do everything in your power to comply, staring at him with all your might as he gets back to work, a satisfied smile still lingering on his lips as his tongue laps at your pussy, his fingers fucking back into you, curling, picking up the pace. 

His fingers are in complete rhythm with his tongue- they are on a mission. And by the sounds currently escaping your lips, chest rising and falling needily, Harry is certainly succeeding.

But each moment that passes is becoming agonizing for him, desperate to substitute his fingers for his cock, currently aching to bury itself inside you. 

Harry tries to pacify his cock by grinding up against the mattress, but this only has him moaning against your pussy, which in turn has you doing the same, your hands fisting the sheets. 

He can no longer hold on, flattening his tongue to give you one last good licking before he removes his fingers and then himself, leaving you in absolute awe and confusion- a spark of panic flashing across your features. 

Harry doesn’t want to startle you, but you can't stop the yelp that escapes you as his hands wrap around your ankles, and with one tug, you are before him, his face aligned with your torso. 

He stands, holding out his hand to assist you in doing the same. You do, and once your feet are safely planted on the floor, Harry’s hands are kneading at your waist and hips. He permits you a moment to stabilise before his hands find the back of your thighs, and he hoists you up into your arms, legs wrapping around his waist. 

Pussy bare and pressed against his torso, the five-step walk over to the sofa feels endless, so when he finally sits, safely cradling your back, you lower with him, coming to a rest atop his cool thighs, knowing he will be slick with wet by the time you’re finished with him.

Arms wrapped loosely across his shoulders, your fingers play with the loose curls at the base of his neck, and you lean, the outline of your mask bumping up against his own as you finally retrieve what you’ve been after all along, pressing your lips to his, tongue taking out all of your prior frustrations as it tangles with his own, scrapes along his teeth, traps and tugs his bottom lip until he is left begging for breath, lips plump and freshly-stung.

Going in for more, your palms find the sides of his face, sandwiching him between lustrous kisses, your chest pressing to his own, a whine bubbling at your throat when his grip tightens, holding you hostage and creating a gap just small enough for his hands to slip from their place on your back and to cup your breasts, squeezing and palming them as his tongue continues to lap at your own.

With the feeling of your nipples perking up so nicely beneath his thumbs, Harry cannot resist the urge to start trailing sloppy kisses along the nape of your neck, your clavicle, his open mouth leaving a trail as it makes its way down your chest, his tongue licking at the valley of your breasts before his lips finally catch your nipple, flicking at it, your body arching back desperately, pleading for more.

With a harsh nip, his tongue soothes your swollen skin, his hands squeezing at the mounds of your breasts, and your body has a mind of its own now, jutting up against him, your pussy sad to be met with only the friction of his briefs, desperate to grind your wetness across his cock, feel him slipping between your folds.

After the third time, your body glides down into contact with his own, a frustrated sigh slipping past your lips; Harry seems to catch on and woefully unlatches his mouth from your skin, but with more than just happiness, he shifts beneath you- and you also shift to allow him better access- his fingers hooking into the bands of his briefs, tugging them down in one swift motion to settle around his mid-thighs.

His cock springs up, swollen with relief and flush with freedom. Your gaze never wavers, hyper-focused on how pretty the man sitting beneath yours truly is- all of him is just too good to be true at this point.

You want to spend eternity, or at least a moment, marvelling and taking him all in, but he is closer than ever, and your pussy is clenching at just the sight of him- practically screeching to have him buried deep inside you.

With that, you reach out and give him one mandatory stroke, to soothe both him and yourself, and by the way his mouth parts, his eyes hooded, body jolting and then relaxing back into your touch, you sling your leg over his lap to straddle him, his face level with your chest, his hands instinctively coming to a rest on the pillows of your hips.

Your arms become a noodle around his neck like in preparation for dancing the salsa, your hips rocking forward without hesitation, pussy skating along the length of his shaft, leaving him slick with just one stroke.

Harry doesn’t even try to stop the string of mutters he sings out into the crevasse of your breasts, breath fanning chills all along your skin just as your hips buck again, sliding up against him, squeaking out as the tip of his cock rubs up against your clit.

You push on into an agonisingly slow rhythm, dragging out each stroke until Harry is so frustrated that he works extra hard to avoid rutting up into you- oddly satisfied letting you take the lead- so his mouth begins leaving sloppy kisses along your chest, your shoulders, the creases of your neck. And whilst the idea of holding onto this sense of control was something you really wanted to indulge in, you cannot stop your body from picking up speed, ever so slightly upping the rhythm.

Harry is struggling to keep himself from turning the two of you over and fucking you into the sofa cushions, taking out his agitation by unexpectedly spitting on your chest, and both of your gazes drop to watch as the dribble of spit travels like a delicate stream down the valley of your breasts, meandering towards your bellybutton.

You rut up against him with force now, pupils swelled and hungry. At the last minute, Harry commands his pelvis not to thrust, taking a section of skin on your breast between his front teeth, nipping and sucking at it until it stings, giving you one last tug before pulling back, his tongue slipping out to softly lap at the blooming bruise. Tiny and speckled with red and purple, this mark will serve as a reminder of the scandalous events of this evening.

More so, this mark is the last straw, your lips angrily finding his own, tongues arguing for domination- Harry’s succumbs the second one of your hands reaches down between your laps, grabbing at his cock and guiding him into you without a second thought.

You take him in with ease, but he is a stretch the further you slide down on him, your belly feeling full as your body finally comes to a sitting on his cock. Harry’s head has tilted back, his eyes fluttering open and shut.

He wants to thrust up, he wants to watch your breasts and body bounce about atop of his cock, needs to see the way your skin jiggles and stretches for him, the way your face crinkles up in pleasure and satisfaction… but Harry lets you do anything you want, lets himself be at your mercy.

And fuck, you make the idea of losing control feel really good, raising your body until only his tip remains inside of you, threatening to leave him out in the cold, but at the last moment, you grind back down, letting him fill you up gluttonously, easily finding a groove, your backside slapping against his thighs, skin-to-skin creating the beat of a drum, and with each smack, you only want to go faster, harder, unable to resist the need to tease and drag things out.

Harry is a mess of moans, only making you feel like you are being cheered on during a marathon, encouraging you to up your stamina and reach the finish line in record time. His hands are all over you, tugging you closer, one hand wrapping tighter around your waist, guiding you up and down his cock, desperate to hear you whine louder, to let others know how good it felt to be riding him. And you want everyone to know, too; you want them to know that they could all leave, and you would be more than happy to just let Harry spend the rest of the evening fucking you into a semi-permanent coma.

Harry shifts, spreading his legs to offer you a new angle, ready to drool as a dragged-out sigh slips out from deep within you, and he knows he’s just hit a good spot.

So, as any good boy would, Harry bucks up into you again and again, motivated by each moan, putting his all into making you sing for him, your hand digging into his biceps, then his back, down his torso, squeezing at his thighs as your stomach starts to clench, heart rate picking up and when you start to feel lightheaded, you welcome the wave of euphoria threatening to wash over- you hear nothing but the soft praises Harry mutters for your pleasure, your body grinding down on his pelvis desperately chasing your high, whining out as his hand spreads your cheeks, guiding you through a long-anticipated orgasm.

Coming down, your head slumps against his damp shoulder, cheek pressing into his warm, soft skin. You can hear his heartbeat; it’s as fast as your own- if not faster; his breaths are scattered, and Harry wonders what will happen next.

He wants to revel in the moment but is hit with disappointment as you slowly and carefully guide him out of you, and he wants to hiss out at the cruel loss of contact.

Your leg swings over and off of his lap, standing tall and gazing down at him with a curious brow furrow that has Harry ready to question his entire existence, but when your arm extends out to him, offering to wrap his hand in your own, Harry feels butterflies beating at his belly, and he accepts in an instant, ridding himself of his briefs, tossing them aside with little to no regard before grabbing your hand, feeling fuzzy at the visual of how small it looks cradled in his own.

Trailing behind you, willing to let you drag him just about anywhere, it seems you have targeted a bed sitting empty in a quaint corner of the room.

But your ass is bouncing with each step you take, and with gravity offering him such a gracious gift, Harry's hand reaches out with the need to grab, settling with a soft slap to your left cheek, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you let out a little whimper of surprise, body jolting forward, thighs jiggling for his absolute pleasure, and all thoughts of the bed are forgotten as Harry pushes your bodies into the nearest pillars. The look in your eyes adjusts from surprise to arousal at the newfound feeling of your body being backed up into the icy marble, turning into a tornado as Harry's simmering skin keeps you mounted like a shiny trophy.

Harry thinks he's really got you now, your skin so silky, your muscles contracting against his own, keening into his hold, lashes batting up at him like he holds the keys to the garden of Eden; with softness, he presses a breathy kiss to your own parted lips, and now that he has you so perfect and patient, he hasn't the faintest clue where to start.

It would be polite to give him a moment to gather his thoughts, perhaps plot his next move, but you know exactly what you want- no, need- next, and with Harry's head so preoccupied with the idea of you that his hold isn't strong enough to stop you from slipping out from his trap, turning around, your palms pressing flat to your chest as you gift him a gentle, but firm push, his back smacking into the same marble you had just escaped.

Harry feels awestruck, unsure what to think, but his cock is certainly pleased, throbbing at the unfamiliar shift in dynamic, desperate to see what you might do next. And when his eyes, swollen with lust, focus on your own, there is a glimmer of certainty that has him almost keeling over; the need to get on his knees and beg for you is killing him.

But it seems that you are the one who will be on your knees as you keep one palm against his chest, unsure of whether he's willing to stay put, and your body drops to the floor, knees happily greeting the tiles.

With your left hand still holding him in place and your right hand coming to a rest on his waist, fingers squeezing into his fleshy cheeks, Harry's head lulls black in bliss, throat bobbing, both of his hands casting a shadow over your own, wrapping around your wrists like pretty bracelets.

Leaning forward ever so sweetly, your lips pucker and place a polite kiss on the tip of his cock. Harry's hips buck forward without his consent, and your hand leaves his chest, gliding lazily down his torso until it comes to rest on his shaft.

Thoughts of how perfectly he fits between your fingers are blurring your vision, but at the sound of Harry pathetically hissing from above, your grip tightens, body shuffling closer, his own hand settling like a scarf around the back of your neck. His hand stays statuesque, unsure of pushing your boundaries and frightened of catching your hair in one of his many rings. But when you reassuringly nuzzle your crown into his palm, Harry finally relaxes, his fingers- still carefully- slip into and massage the hair at the base of your neck.

You’ve got him right where you want him, and there’s no time to waste as you close the last of any remaining space, bowing forward and closing in like at communion, mouth opening, ready for the catholic wafer but instead closing your lips over the tip of his cock, your tongue darting out to swirl at his head and loving the way he tries to resist bucking into you, stop himself from hitting the back of your throat. 

Just the idea has you dripping, fulfilling the desire to take him further in your mouth, your free hand slowly pumping his cock, holding him in place as you suck him, slowly taking in as much as you can manage before slowly pulling back, letting your tongue trail along his shaft in your wake. 

Right as Harry begins to fear that you might release and leave him high and dry, you swallow him again, bobbing and creating a rhythm, a small sliver of spit slipping past your lips as you take him as far as your mouth will permit, tongue lapping at him, your hand pumping the base of him as Harry huffs and puffs above you. 

And when you can’t help but glance up at him from beneath hooded lashes, the way Harry cusses out and rolls his head back against the pillar is enough to have you picking up the pace, swallowing him with vigour, desperately trying to fit as much of him possible into the hollows of your cheeks.

Slowly, your head begins to bob, taking all of his cock in before pulling back, then again, and again, your hand still pumping him, spit gliding along his shaft and soaking your fingers. 

You release his cock from your mouth, still gliding your hand back and forth, pumping him and peering up at him with doe-like eyes.

“Fuck.” Harry whines, the back of his head bumping against the pillar, “Y’gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

With a mischievous grin, you place a gentle but menacing kiss on the tip of his cock before flattening your tongue and licking his shaft from base to tip before taking all of him in your mouth once more, creating the perfect rhythm, your other hand leaving his thigh and cupping around his balls, massaging him, head grooving up and down his cock. Harry is a complete mess, his muscles flexing with each suck and release. 

You guide his cock to the hollow of your left cheek, brushing him against your mouth before ever-so-softly gliding his head along your bottom teeth and rubbing him against your right cheek. He is still moaning above you, and when you suddenly tilt forward and take him so deep that his cock brushes the back of your throat, Harry is cussing out, his hand tightening around the base of your neck. 

You lean your head back into his palm as a form of encouragement, and Harry thinks you may be the most perfect creature of planet Earth itself. He cautiously begins guiding your head, testing the waters as he becomes a guide for his cock, sliding into your mouth. 

Happy to oblige, you try to remain as still as possible, your pussy throbbing each time he brushes against your throat, and when you almost gag, Harry has officially died and gone to heaven. His pace quickens, forcefully- but so carefully- bucking into you, loving how soft and plump your lips are, how well you take him- how deep. 

The thought of his cum dripping down your chin has him in utter shambles, and that is not how he wants this evening to go- yet. So, with one last thrust and grunt, he ruefully removes himself, hissing at the rush of cool air that greets his tip and almost crying at the sight of the string of spit connecting from your lips and his cock. 

Using the back of your hand to dismiss the spit, you peer up at him curiously, rather proud of your work but still hoping to have more of him.

Harry guides your head as a gesture, hissing at the rush of air that greets the tip of his cock, and this only causes his impulses to increase- so, as soon as you have found your feet and are looking up at him with blown-out pupils and puffy pink lips, Harry finally reclaims control, his hands wrapping you up and spinning you around in one swift motion and you are now facing the pillar, your palms pressing flat against the cool surface. 

His hands find your hips, thumbs pressing into your fleshy skin and, on instinct, your back arches, ass desperate to press up against him. Harry releases his right hand from your hip, wrapping it around his stiff shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. Ass up, spine curved, your breasts press into the icy pillar, your body scooting up against the pelvis, and when the head of his cock glides along your pussy, just stopping short of your entrance, you moan out enthusiastically. 

Harry gives you one last tease, his tip slipping into you before pulling back out, but before you have the opportunity to whine out, he thrusts into you, and instead, you arch out for him even more, sighing out, breasts squishing into the pillar. 

He guides his cock in and out, painfully persevering, taking his damn time, but after a third deep and forceful thrust, you shuffle back into him impatiently, and Harry wants to chuckle aloud at your lack of patience now that he has you pressed up against him. 

But your neediness is too tantalising to resist; Harry can’t stop his hips from bucking up into you, almost drooling at the hum of satisfaction you reward him with as he thrusts again, this time harder, his arm reaching around to rest his palm on your stomach, keeping you pinned as he proceeds to fuck into you. 

Harry keeps going, huffing in sync with each thrust, his stomach clenching as you mewl against him, your palms pressing into the pillar and holding on for dear life. His hand slides down from your stomach to the back of your right thigh, raising it until your knee bumps up against the marble, and when he’s certain you plan on keeping it there, he releases your leg and proceeds to pound into you, his hand snaking around until it finds your pussy, fingers gliding along your wetness, seeking out louder moans, desperate whines. 

And you are- unable to hold yourself back any longer, overcome with the electric current coursing through you with each thrust, each time his thumb brushes against your clit. You are chasing another orgasm, pushing your palms against the pillar in an attempt to get closer to him.

Harry kindly obliges, pressing his chest into your back, pulling you flush against his damp and flexed torso as he keeps at it, bucking up into you with all of his willpower, hands grabbing at you, adamant to have you as near as possible. 

Right as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge for a second time in just minutes, Harry interrupts by pulling out and wrapping you up in his arms and hastily turning you around to face him. Concern flashes across his features as your back bumps up against the pillar, but when you only whine out, your left leg lifting up, calf wrapping around his waist, Harry guides his cock back into you, bucking up with commitment and determination to have you come unravelled against him once more. 

And you are unravelling, chemistry at play as your body becomes a mix of ecstasy and euphoria. You are grabbing at every part of him, never wavering for too long, tugging at his hair, squeezing at his biceps, pressing your pelvis up against his own. Harry is doing the same, feeding off of your needy whines, unsaid pleas for him to keep going, and when you can’t help but turn them into verbal pleas, asking him so sweetly to fuck you “just like that”, he is in an absolute state, 

“Yeah?” He confirms- only for the sake of hearing you speak up again, 

“Yeah.” You stutter out, nails digging into the nape of his neck, scraping along his shoulder. 

Harry is enamoured, you’re being such a good girl for him, and he wants to reward you for being so. But he also wants to be a little testy and has the urge to see how much nicer you’re willing to be for him, so he deems it necessary to hold out on you a tad longer.

He wraps his arm around the middle of your back, pressing you into him, and he bows his head and leans in as close to your ear as possible, his warm breath fanning over the nook of your neck and clavicle, ensuring you hear him loud and clear, 

“Ask me nicely.” 

Your head snaps up, looking at him with incredulity, but too desperate to do anything other than give him what he wants. One of your hands finds his torso, palms trailing along his chest as your other hand tightens around his neck in physical protest, which is the last thing that would ever slip past your lips. Trying your best to give him your politest plea, your mouth plump and puckered, mousey eyes flickering playfully up at him, 

“Pretty please.”

And that’s all Harry needs, thrusting into you with repayment, revelling in the way your body accepts his reward so enthusiastically. He picks up the pace, pounding into you and making certain that you are more than welcome to come undone all over him, 

“Such a good girl for me.”

You’re nodding at him desperately, body crumbling with each praise he is granting you, and when his palm slips down between your bodies, landing on your pussy and lazily swirling loops atop your clit, you are a shaking mess- in a frenzy and falling over the edge, coming all over his cock, softly chanting, “yes, yes.”

“So, so good.” He reminds you, holding onto you, keeping you secure and satisfied. He can feel the familiar stirring in his stomach, his cock twitching and tempted to come all over you.

But there’s no way he’s done with you, and he cannot fathom finishing now. 

Your bucking has slowed, head lulling into the crook of his neck, trying to steady your breathing, and instead of giving in to an impending orgasm, Harry pats your bum firmly, wrapping an arm around your thigh, encouraging you to jump up into his arms. 

He is still fully inside you and doesn’t plan on changing that, effortlessly guiding you up into his arms, one of his hands still on your backside, the other cradling your back. With great care, Harry starts to walk, staying slow and peering over his shoulder to make sure he’s going in the right direction. 

Thankfully, the pillar was already the halfway point to the bed you had targeted earlier, and with your lips lazily trailing kisses along his torso, your nails digging into his back, Harry was overjoyed when his feet bumped into the base of the bed. 

Impressively, he bows forward- your bodies still bound- his knees denting the mattress, lowering your bodies onto the bed until your back is pressed into the sheets and Harry is hovering over you, balancing on his forearms, his forehead brushing against your own.

“Ready to go again, princess?” His cool breath fans across your features, and you are nodding as if your life depends on it, your pelvis bucking up against him.

Harry’s brows furrow in amusement, his head bowing, lips brushing up against the shell of your ear, “Use your words, lovely.” 

“Fuck.” You huff out, your right leg tightening around his waist, one of your hands digging into his bicep and the other tugs at his hair, “Please.” And just so he really gets the message, you add, “I want you.” 

“Want me to what?” He drawls, tongue tickling your neck as one of his hands massages your breast. 

“Fuck me.” Your reply is emotionless, stern and impatient, “Want you to fuck me.”

“Sassy little one, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles, squeezing your thigh endearingly. 

You roll your eyes as if he hasn’t just stated the obvious, lifting your pelvis up to rub against him. His pupils are blown, and you want him inside of you- now. 

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ponder, nails dragging along his shoulder, “Or do I need to find someone else?” there is nobody alive that you could want more than him; he should know this from the way you are so eager to please him, but the mere suggestion has Harry thrusting into you mercilessly.

You whine out in both stupor and ecstasy, your back arching off of the bed, your breasts pressing into his chest. With one of his arms still holding him in place, Harry’s free hand comes up to cradle your face, your foreheads slick with sweat and sticking together. 

His hands are about as big as your head, and that alone contributes to the next sigh you release, bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts in the middle, your pelvises slapping into one another. 

Harry marvels at the way your bodies seem to so easily find a rhythm each time like you were made for him, and he for you. His thrusts are deep and with intention, stretching your pussy with satisfaction. 

“Christ.” He huffs in astonishment, “Y’ feel so fuckin’ good.” 

You can only moan out in agreement, at a complete loss for words. The only thing you feel is satisfaction sparking throughout your wholeness, and the only other thing you can think about is how badly you wish you knew his name- hoping to call it out to him as he pounds into you, desperate to reward him for doing such a good job. 

Harry can't remember ever feeling so engaged in fucking someone- was there a time? Nothing before or after this moment matters; he could now die a happy man. You feel so warm and worked-up, pressed into him, grabbing at any part of him available for the taking. 

He wants to let you, doesn’t mind if you spend hours or even days exploring him, poking and prodding his limbs and skin for reactions, having him like putty in your hands- all yours. 

“More.” You huff out when it seems that Harry is getting caught up in his thoughts, and he thrusts into you so generously that your head lulls back to greet the mattress. 

But now you are too far away for Harry’s liking; he needs to see those pretty eyes and pretty flushed cheeks, needs to see how good of a job he’s doing at pleasing you. His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your head back up, his lips waiting to latch onto your own. 

Breathy kisses become open-mouthed ones. Harry’s tongue is dancing all along your mouth, biting on your lip and sucking on your tongue. Still, in a battle of kisses, Harry’s hand sweeps along your face and his pointer finger slips into your mouth. You suck on him like you were born solely for this purpose, and it’s Harry’s turn to stop his head from rolling back. 

He keeps on at it, licking into your mouth while his cock rams into you relentlessly, each thrust accompanied by skin slapping, deep moans, hums of satisfaction and a stirring in your chest that only increases as Harry bends your leg and pins it to your chest, fucking into you from an angle that feels so good that you begin slipping away into a realm of pure pleasure. 

“Like that?” Harry pants out, each thrust more purposeful than the last. 

“Just like that.” You nod vigorously with gratefulness. 

“Good girl.” He praises with a sloppy kiss, “Look so good like this.” 

Harry keeps thrusting, and it’s not long before the look on your face starts morphing with frustrated delight, your eyes threatening to squeeze shut. But you don’t want to look away, instead glancing between your grooving bodies, in awe of the sight of his cock coated with all of you, pumping in and out so gracefully. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He is kissing your neck, tongue wet and trailing along your skin. 

And that is all you need to guide you back into another orgasm, your hips raised off of the bed and grinding up against his pelvis in a circular motion, hands holding onto him for dear life. 

Harry groans, almost growls out, pushing into you, trying to pull you closer than physically possible, “Just like that, sweetheart.” You are definitely a sucker for his praises, desperate for more, and he obliges, “So good for me.” 

With a surprising twist, Harry is forced to confront his impending orgasm as you pose a rather prolonged request, “Want you to cum for me.” 

He wants to panic, the thought of this being over is simply heinous, but you only chuckle at the obvious distress beginning to warp his features and reassure him, “I still have plenty in store for you.” And for good measure, you add, “Unless you can’t… keep up.”

Harry knows you’re only taunting him for the fun of it, but the suggestion is obscene, and he seeks to prove you wrong. You are still grinding up against him, whimpering at the sensitivity, nevertheless needy for more, so he picks up the pace, ramming into you with everything he has to offer, his arm bending further into the bed to get closer, and your arms wrap around him to assist, tugging him flush against you, teeth nipping at his neck. 

“Gonna let me swallow you, pretty boy?” You blink up at him innocently, “Wanna taste you so badly.”

His thrusts are getting sloppier, slower and more determined. Now that the offer of an orgasm is on the table, lying beneath him, so pretty and so tasty, Harry can’t resist pushing into you harder, deeper, grunting and huffing along, skin shivering at the feel of your nails tickling at his torso. 

And when you tilt your head and aim your teeth for his ear, nipping his earlobe only to soothe it with the flick of your tongue, you ask one more time, “Pretty please.” 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Is all Harry can muster in between a mess of moans, struggling to keep his weight from coming down on you, his free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you still, his cock wailing for release.

And he gets exactly what he’s been searching for, thrusting into you once more, treasuring it as he pulls out, stroking at his cock as the two of you shuffle around and you are quickly on your knees, mouth spread wide, tongue flat and pushing past your lips. 

Harry doesn’t think he has ever seen something- someone- so beautiful, and he doesn’t stop thinking this as he starts to cum, spilling onto your tongue, his cock throbbing at the sight of you swallowing him so kindly, at the glistening of your swollen lips, the bobbing of your throat. 

You wear your satisfaction with pride, and for the first time, you wonder if Harry actually can keep up. He hadn’t said so, in words, at least. But he is still close and starts edging closer, desperate to have his hands back on you. He gets what he wants, and you shuffle closer, following his gaze as it shifts to the nearest patron, using his free hand to gesture for their attention. 

Before you get the chance to get too confused, the patron steps closer, and you can now clearly see the contents of his silver platter. Staring up at you is an array of toys, small and large, feathered or leather or even metal. You don’t even need to glance over at Harry to tell him you are definitely game, instead reaching out with an item already in mind. 

Harry watches as you select your weapon of choice, turning back to him with satisfaction and a cheeky smile, the chosen toy on display is just begging to be played with, and it seems that both of you are ready to oblige. 

🍒

Forgive me for I am a sinner and I feel zero regrets. Hell can have me because I am DONE. I hope you guys enjoy this one! It's been a while since I've blessed the children with smut and I hope I have succeeded lmao. - Emmy. xo 💞

[diodellet]

ooohh that ask game has some interesting questions hmm how abt 16, 18, and 23?

i am realizing just how much this ask game is making me bare my soul goshhh (/not srs), thanks for sending me an ask, bibi!

16. What makes you immediately close a fic that otherwise seemed good?

hm...well, most of the time i try to stick it out even if i'm not enjoying the fic from the first few sentences. like, maybe it's just me but a lot of the first words of a fic tends to be the (for lack of a better word) "the gunk" that precedes the actual story? like some stories just have slow starts, but they do get gud.

but to answer the q, i guess stuff that makes me roll my eyes at a fic, in the context of x readers would probably have to be:

disclaimer: most of the time, i don't mind reading these. but there are just moments where they bother me as i'm reading

reader getting carried bridal style (i dont like it, i hate it. id rather be carried like a sack of potatoes. or id rather be carried like a goat by its shepherd. but i do like seeing characters getting princess-carried) just carry me like this instead 🤧🤧👇

royalty AU++CEO/office/corporate-setting AU (like secret princess of a kingdom or being a secretary, for example) i'm not a big fan of those kinds of settings. like ok sure a chara can look good in business formal or in some fine furs, but once the eye candy wears off thats when i exit the fic oops.

fics centered around marriage: i don't really enjoy reading proposals. also thinking of how the rings, the dresses, and the flowers look is hard bcs of my (partial?) aphantasia, but weddings Are Pretty Fun as a background setting. overall, i think what bothers me most is that the chara loses a bit of their personality after they get wed together with the reader.

^^actually in relation to this... im not that big of a fan of prom/dance settings, they both read very similarly, especially since the reader tends to be placed in the more passive role of being asked out. (but when you make it angsty or hurt/comfort, ok i will read it i'm a simple girl)

Oh and ig this is just me wishing for more in the Imposter-SAGAU genre of fanfic (i mean i'm still looking around, i don't feel desperate enough to write smth of my own), but i kinda wish the charas weren't so doe-eyed and quick to apologize to the reader. like, i get the feeling of wanting to write The Good Bits Immediately (e.g. being fawned over, getting to lord that blunder over the characters) but the potential of slowburn trauma recovery and developing a relationship from straight-up antagonism is Right There.

18. What media do you want to get into because of artists/writers you like?

i think i'd want to try reading more poetry? like, if i rb a lot of web weaving, i gotta know sumn other than "deep" pop lyrics (u wont find me saying nice things about ms sw*ft). so far i'm thinking of starting with ocean vuong and richard siken (basic ik but i mean, their works are good)

dunmeshi! i've been putting it off for forever 🙈🙈 (<-girlie watched frieren and forgor abt dunmeshi bcs they got yorushika to do the 2nd OP) but senshi,,,, SENSHI THE MAN THAT U ARE,,,,

Oh! and i'm rlly curious about alien stage! my sibling's dipping into it and he told me it was basically america's got talent x the promised neverland. and he said the magic words "toxic yaoi" and "doomed yuri," i Gotta watch it atp. (also like, carole and tuesday rearranged my brain, im ready to put a sadder spin on it😤)

23. What would you make a 5 hour video essay on, if you had enough time and motivation?

as soon as i read this all my hyperfixations have: left the server HAHAHA

maybe in terms of recent ones, i could try analyzing madds buckley's my love is sick. i wrote about that album for a final paper in a basic music elective, but i was constrained to only 3 pages so i only talked about 2-3 songs. but i could pretend to be a music major and regale ppl with how the leitmotifs tie together and completely destroy me add a new layer of meaning to the songs on subsequent listens. Also like, these songs just Get It (not sure what "it" is exactly, but there's smth related to first love and love lost*)

(but atm im just yoinking songs from there to use for fic/chapter titles, i plan on using one for this ruggie timeloop angst fic im plotting out anyway)

(art appreciation ask questions, please bug me to rb some underrated art and fic)

[smouldring]

the great you/thou post. a quick and dirty guide for characters using archaic/middle english.

speedball samples. i just want to get writing and need to replace all of my you's with thou's!

you are writing a fromsoft character. -> thou are/art writing a fromsoft character.

i follow you on tumblr. -> i follow thee on tumblr.

(all of) you fromsoft roleplayers are so cool. -> ye fromsoft roleplayers are so cool.

A CONSONANT! hollowed be your knight, your humanity come. -> hollowed be thy ✅ knight, thy ✅ humanity come.

A VOWEL! your arcane needs leveling, your endurance is fine. -> thine ✅ arcane needs/needest leveling, thine ✅ endurance is fine.

BONUS ROUND: POSSESSIVE PLACEMENT! your blog -> thy blog. VS. the blog is yours. -> the blog is thine.

just like grammar used to make. i want to get down in the dirt with how these are used!

YOU/THOU: subjective/nominative 2nd person singular pronoun. when YOU indicates the subject, or the active force of a sentence - even if you're asking someone to do something, the YOU in question is the one who could be doing an action. YOU play video games too much; could YOU play fewer games? -> THOU play(est) video games too much; could(st) THOU play fewer games?

YOU/THEE: objective 2nd person singular pronoun. confusing, right? it's when YOU indicates the object, or the thing that is being acted upon in the sentence. normally another pronoun or proper noun will take up the subject slot. i/they/the borg messaged YOU; is it okay to message YOU? -> i/they/the borg messaged THEE; may i/they/the borg message THEE?

✅ if it's acting (including existing), it's thou! if it's being acted upon, it's thee!

(ALL OF) YOU/YE: 2nd person plural pronoun. we really have collapsed the modern 'you' down so neatly; we often don't alter it at all if it's referring to more than one person, unless we're using 'y'all' or 'youse'. if you're familiar with y'all, you can just substitute ye! if not, the YOU refers to more than one person. YOU tumblr users disgust me -> YE tumblr users disgust me. YOU in and of itself is also technically a plural, albeit less formal; you don't have to swap it for ye. THAT FIRST SENTENCE IS JUST AS CORRECT AS THE SECOND IN INFORMAL INSTANCES.

BONUS YE: if you want to get flowery and directly address multiple non-humans, you can swap THE/THOSE/THESE for YE, if 'the' is being used poetically as a form of address - i.e. you wouldnt say this if you're having a conversation with another person, you would still use the/those/these. you effectively have to talk to yourself. THE/THOSE/THESE mountains of my home delight me -> YE mountains of my home, YE bring me much delight!

YOURSELF/THYSELF: reflexive 2nd person singular pronoun. this one is easy. if you are telling a person to do something to themselves, or saying that they have done something to themselves, you use these. change YOURSELF into better armor for this fight; have you seen YOURSELF in that? -> arm THYSELF with more suitable armor; hast thou looked at THYSELF?

YOURSELVES/THYSELVES: reflexive 2nd person plural pronoun. i mention it because i have not seen 'yeselves' used, though it may exist somewhere that i simply haven't come across.

art thou a fancypants? culture thyself. i want to reflect my character's age or class in my writing, when do i use you vs. thou?

the simple answer? it depends on the period you're portraying. the older you are pre-17th century, the more likely thou and its relatives will be used. this is reductive, but it's a good rule of thumb. however, you have to keep class in mind. if your character is speaking to their social better, use 'you'. if they are of equal or lower social standing, use 'thou'.

the more complicated answer? we see you start to phase out thou as old english transitions into middle english, and that's going to vary by region; some say thou was on its way out in the 1300s, but will note its continuation through the 1700s, and people still use it to denote over-the-top formality. but since most of us are writing in fantasy settings that don't directly correlate to real world time periods, you're going to have to make a choice: is my character living in a period before you became more commonplace ( usually tied to social mobility becoming a thing ), and would use thou all the time unless speaking to someone above them? is my character royalty, will they use thou no matter what? is my character in a transitional period and wants to make a point, either by thou-ing everyone ( which could garner some anger ) or you-ing everyone ( which may be seen as too polite to people stuck in the old ways )? it's going to vary, and it's up to you.

these aren't hard and fast rules, and if any of my fellow tumblr linguists or historians want to chime in with their own research ( hiiii ) feel free to do so. but if you've already decided that your character is a thou-thy'er, this guide should get you going.

[liriostigre]

hey! I wanted to ask what your favorite poetry books are? I have a few but I want to read new and interesting stuff, and I trust your taste :D

hiii ♡

tbh i only started reading poetry collections like,, last year. i'm subscribed to poetryfoundation's newsletter (poem of the day) so i usually just read random poems

anyway, i'm not sure my recs could be considered new (cause i'm gonna start with Mary Oliver ♡) but feel free to message me if you want to know the themes, style, feeling (vibes, if you will) or anything you want to know about these collections. for now, i'm linking my favorite poems in each collection, i hope this helps you choose! ♡

here you go:

Dream Work —Mary Oliver (“Wild Geese.” “Dogfish.”)

Red Bird —Mary Oliver (“Summer Morning.” “Love Sorrow.”)

Blue Horses —Mary Oliver (“To Be Human Is to Sing Your Own Song.” “Loneliness.” “Little Crazy Love Song.”)

The Wild Iris —Louise Glück (“Sunset.” “Retreating Light.”)

Haruko/Love Poems —June Jordan (“On a New Year’s Eve.” “Mendocino Memory.” “Toward a City That Sings.” *under the cut)

Extracting the Stone of Madness —Alejandra Pizarnik (“Primitive Eyes.” “Summer Goodbyes.” *under the cut)

Ariel —Sylvia Plath (“Tulips.” “The Rival.”)

Prelude to Bruise —Saeed Jones (“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat.” *under the cut)

Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth —Alice Walker (“Coming Back from Seeing Your People.” *under the cut)

I Must Be Living Twice —Eileen Myles (“Edward the Confessor.” *under the cut)

Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth —Warsan Shire (“Conversations About Home (at the Deportation Centre.”)

The Black Unicorn —Audre Lorde (“Hanging Fire.” “Sister Outsider.”)

Bright Dead Things —Ada Limón (“The Riveter.” “Glow.”)

Night Sky With Exit Wounds —Ocean Vuong (“Thanksgiving 2006.” “Logophobia.”)

Postcolonial Love Poem —Natalie Diaz (“Manhattan Is a Lenape Word.”)

Crush —Richard Siken (“Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out.”)

Once —Alice Walker (“So We've Come at Last to Freud.”)

“Toward a City That Sings” by June Jordan

Into the topaz the crystalline signals of Manhattan the nightplane lowers my body scintillate with longing to lie positive beside the electric waters of your flesh and I will never tell you the meaning of this poem: Just say, ‘She wrote it and I recognize the reference.’ Please let it go at that. Although it is all the willingness you lend the world as when you picked it up the garbage scattering the cool formalities of Madison Avenue after midnight (where we walked for miles as though we knew the woods well enough to ignore the darkness) although it is all the willingness you lend the world that makes me want to clean up everything in sight (myself included)

for your possible discovery

“Primitive Eyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik

Where fear neither speaks in stories or poems, nor gives shape to terrors or triumphs.

My name, my pronoun — a grey void.

I’m familiar with the full range of fear. I know what it’s like to start singing and to set off slowly through the narrow mountain pass that leads back to the stranger in me, to my own emigrant.

I write to ward off fear and the clawing wind that lodges in my throat.

And in the morning, when you are afraid of finding yourself dead (of there being no more images): the silence of compression, the silence of existence itself. This is how the years fly by. This is how we lost that beautiful animal happiness.

“Summer Goodbyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik

The soft rumor of spreading weeds. The sound of things ruined by the wind. They come to me as if I were the heart of all that exists. I would like to be dead, and also to go inside another heart.

“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat” by Saeed Jones

I. Drugged, I dreamed you a plume of ash, great rush of wrecked air through the towns of my stupor. And when the ocean in your blood went toxic, I thought fire was what we needed: serrated light through the skin, grenade in the chest—pulled linchpin. I saw us breathing on the other side of after. But a blackout is not night; orange-bottled dreams are not sleep. II. I was a cross-legged boy in the third lifetime, empire of blocks in my lap while you walked through the door of your silence, hunting knife in one hand, flask in the other. I waited for you until I forgot to breathe, my want turning me colors only tongues of amaryllis could answer for. It owned me, that hunger, tendriled its way into my name for you. III. In a city made of rain each door, a silence; each lock, a mouth, I walked daily through the spit-slick streets, harbingers on my hands in henna: there will be no after Black-and-blue-garbed strangers, they called me Cassandra. (I had such a body then.) Umbrellas in hand, they listened while they unlistened. there will be no no. after

the world will end no.

you are the reason it no. ends

you no. IV. I didn’t exactly mean to survive myself. Half this life I’ve spent falling out of fourth-story windows. Pigeons for hair, wind for feet. Sometimes I sing “Stormy Weather” on the way down. Today, “Strange Fruit.” Each time, strangers find me drawing my own chalk outline on the sidewalk, cursing with a mouth full of iron, furious at my pulse. V. After ruin, after shards of glass like misplaced stars, after dredge, after the black bite of frost:        you are the after, you are the first hour in a life without clocks; the name of whatever falls from the clouds now is you (it is not rain), a song in a dead language, an unlit earth, a coast broken— how was I to know every word was your name?

“Coming Back from Seeing Your People” by Alice Walker

Coming back From seeing your people You were So wonderfully Full Of yourself.

But now You have supped With vampires They have fed Feasted On you.

They arise Bright-eyed Fit.

You alone have lost Not only Your sleep But also Your glow The luster of Affection Heart welcome Your people Sent home With you.

Beloved You must learn To walk alone To hold The precious Silence To bring home And keep the precious Little That is left Of yourself.

“Edward the Confessor” by Eileen Myles

I have a confession to make I wish there were some role in society I could fulfill I could be a confessor I have a confession to make I have this way when I step into the bakery on 2nd Ave. of wanting to be the only really nice person in the store so the harried sales woman with several toned hair will like me. I do this in all kinds of stores, coffee shops xerox shops, everywhere I go. And invariably I leave my keys, xeroxing, my coffee from the last place I am being so nice. I try so hard to make a great impression on these neutral strangers right down to the perfect warm smile I get entirely lost and stagger back out onto the street, bereft of something major. It’s really leaning too hard on the everyday. My mother was the kind of woman who dragging us into stores always seemed to charm the pants off the cashier. She was such a great person, so human though at home she was such a bitch, I mean really distant. I imitate her and I don’t do it well. She didn’t leave her wallet or us in a store. I’m just a pale imitation it is simply not my style to open the hearts of strangers to my true personhood. I hope you accept this tiny confession of what I am currently going through. And if you are experiencing something of a similar nature tell someone, not me, but tell someone. It’s the new human program to be in. It would be nice for at least these final moments if we could sigh with the relief of being in the same program with all the other humans whispering in school. I can’t quite locate the terror, but I am trying to be my mother or Edward the Confessor smiling down on you with up-praying hands. I am looking down at the tips of my boots as I step across the balcony of the church excited to be allowed to say these things. Outside my church is a relationship. On 11th street this guy and this woman are selling the woman so they can get more dope. All their things are there, rags and loaves of bread and make-up. And there was— this was incredible. Two men lying by the door of the church giving each other blow-jobs. They were sort of street guys, one black one white. I said hey you can’t do that here. They jumped up, one spit come out of his mouth. If you don’t get out of here I’ll call the cops. Don’t call the cops we’ll go, we’ll leave. That was a shock. That was more than I expected to see in a day. Something about seeing the guy spit come out of his mouth. He didn’t have to do that. I guess I scared him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was scared too.

[courtofcravings]

Another you (1)

Context: In which you get stuck on a planet and have to save kirk, whichhe admits feelings for you and ya both land in the Med Bay.

Warning: Some blood, needles, minor injuries. mild choking

Feb 2nd/21

I always find it funny that my go-to thing is to have the reader afraid of needles, but I myself am actually trained to give vaccines and take blood.

This was also my first Kirk x reader in a long time// It’s hard to write flirty confident characters because it is the exact opposite of who I am, yet it’s the personality i love in my men and women so xoxo

--------------

Dr. McCoy was again trying to coerce you down to the Med Bay; he really thought offering to get the Captain involved would change anything. “I’m telling you right now, Y/N, you can’t go on your away mission without your immunizations for this planet. Have you have heard of the Quazulu VIII Virus, no? That’s because there is a vaccine for it!”  

“Dr. McCoy, It will be a quick up and down to the planet to grab some specimens; I won’t stay for diplomatic reasons like the rest of the party is.” You justified to him. You had almost finished packing everything you needed from the research ward before your ship’s chief medical examiner ambushed you.

“As a scientist, I’d figure you would be one of the most appreciative of vaccines.” He replied, helping you collect tubes from the drawer beside him. “Ah contrary, as a scientist, I am well aware of how dirty hospitals and MedBays are.” The doctors face contorted,

“You do realize you are going on an away mission, on a un sterile planet. There is a risk of injury; are you just not going to receive first aid if something goes wrong on the planet?” He’s not wrong, and you knew it. You just hated needles. They grossed you out.

“I won’t get hurt then,” You confidently stated, which earned a scoff from the young doctor.

“What if I bring the vaccines to your research lab? And gave them to you here?” You admitted that wasn’t a bad compromise. The Med Bay gave you more of a bad feeling than needles do. You always found that most people you had to bring to the Medbay or hospital didn’t always come out. You just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread when you go in.

“Fine.”

“You remind me so much of Jim.” He said while pulling out the vaccines. He had the vaccines here!? He already knew I wouldn’t agree to go to the Med Bay and thought ahead. You really have left an impression on the doctor.

“Who? And you really knew I’d say yes?” Referring to the cooler filled with the vaccinations. “Ah, you see, they are not just for you,” He said. Taking one of the two doses you needed into one of his hands and pinch “Done.”

Oh, that wasn’t horrible.

The doors swooshed opened behind you, but you couldn’t open your eyes, knowing there was another needle coming. “Bones, you called me here?” Immediately recognizing that voice as Captain Kirk

“You Actually Told The Captain On Me!?” You stood up to look accusingly at Dr. McCoy. He only shrugged his shoulders, looking between the two of you. “You need to get your inoculations, Jim; why don’t you explain to Y/N here how important it is to get them before an away trip,” He said while getting another dose ready. “You do have a lot of experience of finding out the hard way.”

You met the captain’s eyes, so blue. “Captain,” You correctly addressed him, “Y/N, will you be coming tonight?” He asked, his voice so alluring. 

“I will, sir,” He smiled at you, taking a seat. “So, Bones here is giving you trouble?” He grabbed your backpack, taking a glance inside at what you were going to bring. It reminded you of a kid who couldn’t sit still.

“Bones?”

“Do not call me that,” Dr. McCoy said fast. pinch “Ouch, I wasn’t ready for that one!” You growled, rubbing your arm, earning a small laugh from the captain sitting across from you. You watched Dr. McCoy draw up his last dose for you and started to feel sick to your stomach.

“Captain, I believe you were explaining to Y/N how important the vaccines are,” He asked the Captain. Funny, it’s not often that Dr. McCoy will address the Captain formally like that. You think Captain Kirk noticed as well as he looked caught off guard.

“Well, as your Captain, I have to inform you that it is mandatory, and Starfleet regulations to get your vaccines before the away mission. Otherwise, you can compromise the health of my crew,” He said professionally. Looking at bones with a thumbs up.

You couldn’t help but get distracted by his deep blue eyes while he talked more about it. You were not really paying much attention to his words. “All done,” Dr. McCoy said, cleaning up his tray of discarded utensils. You were so distracted by the captain you didn’t feel that last pinch.

You pulled your blue shirt back down to entirely go over your arm, “Well, if that is everything, I should be preparing for the away mission,” The captain said, dismissing himself.

“No, No, No, Jim.” Dr. McCoy stood up fast, grabbing the Captain by his arm before he could get out of his chair. “You just lectured Y/N on the importance of inoculations; I do believe it is your turn,” You figured that was why the doctor brought those extra doses. This was his plan all along.

“For the well being of the crew and all,” You spoke up, paraphrasing his own words. Dr. McCoy let out an agreeable laugh, while the captain just sat there, defeated.

“Alright, alright, just make it fast,” The captain lifted his shirt enough to sneak his left arm out. Your first instinct, of course, was to look around the room at literally anything else.

“I was just telling Y/N how alike you both are; I mean, she’s basically another you,” Dr. McCoy said. You couldn’t help but scoff at this, you and the captain having something in common? Sure, but you being basically like him? Definitely not.

“What gave it away? Was it the height? We are pretty close in height,” The captain responded, a playful smile on his handsome face.

“Maybe, It is our common interest in specialties on the ship? You know, being captain and being a biomedical engineer are very similar jobs.” You asked, teasing the doctor. He only responded with a sigh and poked the Captain with the needle, making him jolt.

“You know Y/N; I think he might be right. I am certain he was referring to our matching taste in clothing.” The Starfleet uniform being all match except for the colours. Where scientists wore grey or blue, the captains wore gold. Gold was definitely his colour.

“Nope, he is definitely talking about our boobs; they are just so alike,” You said, a giggle ripped from the captain, making him move back slightly.

“Dammit, Jim, stay still.” He said, giving the last dose to the Captain, then turning back to look at you, “You know you’re both just proving my point,”

“Well, then that’s just double the fun for you, Bones,” The captain said. He was taking his leave before the Doctor comes up with more to poke him with. After two years on this ship, bugging Dr. McCoy never got old.

“I couldn’t imagine being stuck on an away trip with the two of you,” Dr. McCoy said while grabbing his bag. “Hey, Bones, that’s kinda hurtful,” You responded, using the nickname the Captain used with him.

“Dammit, Jim,” Bones muttered under his breath, leaving to go track down more officers before the away trip.

-----

The trip mission for you was supposed to be simple: collect some plant samples with specific regenerative properties. This would help in your designs of tissue regeneration equipment you worked on in the lab aboard the enterprise with Dr. McCoy.

Unfortunately for you, It seemed something went wrong, you’re assuming with the diplomatic party that came down with you. You only took fifth-teen minutes to gather enough samples to fill your small bag, but when you used your comm to contact the ship, no one responded.

As a matter-of-fact, no one on the mission on the planet was answering either. You hoped they hadn’t forgotten you on this planet and left, unlikely, but still a thought. You didn’t remember where exactly the other group got transported to, and it was still a debate whether you should leave the last known location they had of you, but it was getting dark.

You needed shelter and possibly a fire. It was far too cold on this planet for you to stay extended out in the elements. So you started walking, with no means to defend yourself and no map of the jungle-like terrain. You couldn’t help but think bones may have been right about laughing at you confidently declaring nothing will go wrong.

“Y/N to enterprise,” You repeated every few seconds, waiting for any response as you trudged through the thicker bushes. Soon it was dark and cold. You could barely see anything, and it was getting too dangerous to walk around.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the faintest light. Maybe it was your crew? You thought about following it, but you also thought of that fish that used a light on its head to lure its prey back on earth. Maybe you are about to be angler fish food; You don’t think they make vaccines to prevent that.

Maybe it is called “not being stupid and walking toward the scary lingering light.”

But where else was there to go. So, against your better instinct, you started walking towards it. Although, the closer you got, you figured out it was a fire and not some carnivorous fish. Picking up the speed and getting closer, you could clearly hear voices. Thank goodness

You have always been told you had two left feet for a reason, so of course, before you could enter the camp, you tripped and ate dirt. Getting up on your knees, you backed up slowly. You seemed to have cut your arm open on something, possibly a branch, when you fell. Great, now you’d have to admit to bones he was right.

Captain Kirk and the rest of the diplomatic crew were tied up, surrounded by another species. It seemed someone- a woman was attempting to speak to them in their language.

They didn’t seem to be responding to her in the same kind tone. Every so often, she’d stop and talk to the captain, translating for him, you figured. Maybe some sort of negotiations or clearing up a misunderstanding, but it did not seem to be going in our favor.

You lowered yourself deeper in the bushes and looked around the camp. There didn’t seem to be any device blocking the signal you could spot, so why wouldn’t the comms work, you wondered. You did, however, find Starfleet-issued phasers, more phasers than you had men. You suppose this meant you guys were not the only Starfleet officers caught by this group.

You watched as the conversation turned sour, and one of the species took what looked like a long fork and put it through the captain’s leg. Yup, This is definitely not good. The same one who stabbed the captain untied the translator and the two other men, walking them out into the forest in the other direction, to where you had no idea. This left Captain Kirk alone, guarded by two others.

You ever so slowly made your way around the camp to the phasers, laying on a flat table with other confiscated items. Your arm was not letting up pain-wise or blood wise, but you knew it wouldn’t matter much if you couldn’t make it off the planet. Grabbing one phaser at a time, you managed four.

Although taking a look at them, you realized you were way in way over your head. Too far in over your head. Getting stranded on a planet with a lacerated arm was fine; watching your crewmates get tied up and minorly stabbed was fine because you could have helped. There was a solution in sight, but now?

Looking down at the phaser, you had no recognition on how to use it; you were now too far in over your head. Starfleet trained you on a basic low power phaser; the highest setting was three. This phaser had so many buttons, far too many than necessary, you thought.

Taking a deep breath, you put two phasers in your bag and slowly made your way behind to where Captain Kirk was tied up and bleeding. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to untie the Captain, you watched the two guards pace around the camp, talking. You needed a distraction, but what could you possibly do?

You snuck up to the Captain silently, but you knew there wasn’t enough time to do too much before they’d glance in your direction. Grabbing the Captain on the shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t make a sound,” The last thing you wanted was for him to be surprised by you sneaking upon him and startle the guards. “I have no idea how to use this, so I really hope you can move and are not completely out of it from blood loss!” You whispered urgently, putting a phaser in his still tied up hands.

“Y/N?” The captain whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid,” You loved his esteemed confidence in you.

“I don’t have enough time to finish untying this knot,” It was so close to coming undone, but you heard one of the guards pacing this way, so you left. You watched the captain look around, but you were hiding in the bushes already. He started to loosen his hands subtly.

Now time for your distraction. You walked around the campsite again, furthering yourself from the captain. “Hey!” You screamed at the guards, hopefully taking the guard’s attention of the captain. “Hey!” You shouted again at them, waving your arms in the air with one phaser in your hand. The guards started slowly approaching you; however, you hadn’t really thought this far.

“Okay, I know you can’t understand me,” You pointed the phaser directly at them, “But I know you understand this, and I...I don’t want to hurt you! So don’t come any farther!” You yelled pointlessly as they kept on approaching you, towering over you. Up close, in front of the light from their fire, you could clearly see their leathery skin, their large muscular frames, and very large weapons in hand.

“Hey, I mean it!” You said, waving the phaser at the one to your left. They were approaching faster with no sign of stopping until they were in front of you. One put their hands on your throat, your feet dangling in the air as he started to choke you. You knew they could crush your throat in a second if they chose to but instead decided to apply pressure slowly.

A loud sound echoed in your ears; It definitely belonged to a phaser. The guard let you go, both of you falling to the ground. And you couldn’t stop the intense coughing fit that erupted from you, your body trying to get as much air in as it could. Distantly you heard the second guard fall to the ground. A hand was on your back as you coughed, “Are you okay?” It was the captain.

After catching your breath, you stood up, looking at the captain. He was standing beside you, phaser in hand, with blood rushing down his leg. “You’re the one with the stab wound,” You responded hoarsely, slightly concerned. “This is nothing,” You reached under his arm so he could support his weight more onto you, “Let me help, sit down over here and let’s tie something around your leg,” He let his weight fall on you slightly. To be honest, you probably would not be able to carry all his weight, especially since your arm was starting to throb.

Sitting him down, you reached into your bag, looking for anything you could use as a makeshift tourniquet. Thankfully, you packed a mini first aid kit. Yes, it was extremely small, holding only a few items; you knew it had a small roll of gauze in it. He let out a laugh when he saw you pull out the little red box. “Laugh all you want, but this could potentially help save your life,” You said seriously.

“That’s not why I am laughing,” You looked up at him curiously, waiting for him to continue his explanation. “I’m sorry, but.” You wrapped a long strand of gauze around his leg, pulling and twisting, as you were taught. “I have this deep, stab wound, and you pull out the smallest first aid kit that I have ever seen in my life,” You took an alcohol swab and wiped his wound gently, cleaning it as well as you could.

“I find it extremely funny that when I looked into your bag this morning and saw it, I thought it was cute, you would bring it,” You looked around to see what dressing you had, not a lot. “I thought it was cute you’d bring a small little first aid kit when we have an on-hand medic come with us.” You ripped his pants just slightly so you start dressing it, “And now you are providing first aid to me with it, in the field, I don’t know I just find that funny” He finished looking down at what you were doing before deciding maybe watching isn’t the best idea.

“I don’t know if I should pack dressing around… this fork thing, or if I should take out the object and dress you properly.” You leaned back on your legs and looked up at him.

“Leaving it in would be safest because I can’t be sure if it hit an artery or not, and you’d bleed out.” You paused, letting him take in the information, “On the other side if I don’t take it out and we have to move fast, it could potentially do more damage.”

“Take it out; we need to get moving to find Uhura, Sulu, and Montgomery.” You were slightly nervous about doing this; killing your captain does not look good on a resume. You opened the dressing packages, ready to work fast. The tourniquet should have stopped any bleeding; you should be safe to pull it, you hoped.

And with one fluid motion and no warning for the Captain, you pulled it out, throwing it to the ground. You placed one hand on the wound to keep pressure and reached for the dressings. The groans of pain were agonizing to hear come from him; however, you knew you had to keep going and get the wound bandaged up. You had wished the small kit had medication or pain relievers of any kind to help him, something you’d need to remind yourself to add for next time.

“I am so sorry; I know that must have been pretty painful for you.” You said sincerely. It was over, but he was still breathing hard, reeling over the pain. He reached toward you, leaning forward, and rested his head on your shoulder. You put a hand on his head and brushed his hair with your fingers, staying like that for a few minutes, peacefully.

“Your arm, there is blood on the sleeve,” He said, grabbing your arm to inspect it; however, you pulled it away, “I scratched it on a branch, it hurts but it’s not bleeding anymore. Besides, I used all the dressing on you- being the more urgent injury.”

“We need to move; they might have heard me.” You helped him stand, and he continued to use you for support. “It’s so dark. I have no idea how or where we’d find everyone.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed a phaser, “They went to their nest. It should be north; there is a map of the terrain on the phaser we can follow,” And with that, he pressed a button of the phaser, which also turned on a flashlight. “Captain, do you think you are in any shape to fight? I was surprised you were able to stand up long enough to take down those two guards.”

“I am fine. I can fight, don’t worry about me.”

“Which, by the way, thank you for saving me back there,” You had never been that close to dying before. “Y/N, it is me who should be thanking you. Without you, I am fairly sure I would have bled to death tied up at that camp.”

------------------------

Part 2

I enjoyed writing it so I hope yall liked it

[princessozera]

Yo like I was imagining how would the from brother and undatebale reaction to to an mc who has a pact with diavolo dad before coming to devildom and they like bestie and when he comes, mc and him be like "long no see bro how you doin and they fist pumping each other" I really want to see they're reaction 😂 plz

OOH! I love this concept!!! There are so many ways to write friendship dynamics and I also like the "Diavolo's doesn't know about the exchange", "Diavolo's dad already has a pact with MC but hates it mostly because HOW THE HELL DID THIS DITZ OUTSMART THE DEMON KING HIMSELF!?" All the plot lines with Diavolo's dad, who I am un-creatively naming Devil. 

(every single person in Obey Me finding out^)

GN! MC (they/them, 2nd ppov)

Word Count: 1.5 k

 Friends With The Devil 

 Lucifer 

Everything is as clear as mud 

This answered so many questions, but raised S O O O O MANY MORE -Is this why you never backed down? Why you weren't scared of him and always challenged his authority?? 

He would be the calmest of his brothers, but it's mostly because he started dissociating out of shock. 

He tries to roll with it, but comes to the irritating revelation that he's now kind of scared of you. Once he realizes this, he checks himself and even gets a little bitchy with you to remind you that he is the powerful one in the House Of Lamentation. 

It's a good thing his personality is always this formal, so things don't really change with him long term, but he is dying to know how you met the Devil. 

Will get a little peeved off that he isn't your strongest pact, and that he never truly was.

 Mammon 

He's the definition of "shitting bricks" 

He was the only brother to jump in front of you when the Devil charged at you, only to get tossed like a wet rag, as the Devil shoves him aside to pick you up in a bear hug. 

He wants to pull you out of the Devil's arms but of course he can't because its THE DEMON KING, but it's YOU and HE'S HOLDING YOU, and UGH!!! 

He's so conflicted, someone help this man. He doesn't even pull you towards him once the Devil let's go of you, frozen in place wherever he landed after he was thrown. 

He's one of the only brothers who will actually be himself around the Devil. It takes A LONG TIME, but since you were now allowed to stay in the Devildom for as long as you want, he had the time to open up. It actually doesn't take him long to relax, because he trusted your judgement of character, but he was a bit miffed that he now had to compete against the Devil for your attention. 

It's about a month later, everyone in Diavolo's castle to watch a movie when Mammon screams out, "WAIT, SO I WASN'T YOUR FIRST!?"

 Levi 

Levi is the least composed of everyone 

First off, he passes out right on the spot. He does at least have enough presence of mind to go behind a curtain before passing out, not wanting to be seen as weak in front of the demon king. 

Once he's awake, the screaming starts. Well, it's bouts of screaming between incoherent babbling. He's trying to ask question, but his panic is making it more than a little difficult. 

It takes him a couple hours to calm down, and even longer to be able to talk to MC normally again (the first time he tried, he panicked again and bit his tongue). 

Once the shock and panic fully subsides, he demands to hear the story because HOW THE HELL DID YOU SUMMON AND BEFRIEND THE DEMON KING??

Levi is very reluctant to invite the Demon King to your gaming sessions, but he is your friend, and Levi can't say no to you. 

He never really loses his formality around the Devil, never swearing or geeking out like he's used to. He does slip on occasion during heated pvp matches or a new game dropping, but it's always more subdued if the Devil is nearby. 

As the Grand Admiral of Hell's navy, his 2 worlds colliding conflicts with his compartmentalization. 

Otherwise, around you, he's the same as he's always been. 

 Satan *Spoilers* 

He honestly finds it kind of funny. 

The ONE non magical human they chose manages to have untapped powers, makes pacts with 7 of the 9 strongest demons, solves millennium old family drama, all while attending school and having a secret pact with THE DEVIL this entire time? 

It's all a bit surreal, but he is the one to most easily go with the flow on this. This last year has been so wild because of you that he just knows better than to fight against it now. 

He does love bringing up the pact to spite Lucifer.  

Asmo *Light spoilers!* 

*Surprised pikachu face* 

Above all, he's blown away by you. You were a human and managed to get THE DEVIL'S PACT? Something even Solomon hasn't been able to do? 

He's a tiny bit scared of the Devil, but your friendliness would ease him back into comfort. It would be a solid 6 months to a year before he tries flirting with the Devil though, if ever. (mostly as a joke )

He's in awe with you for months to come; this is infinitely cooler than when you pulled his demon form out of him. 

Once you two get some alone time during one of your sleepovers, you get bombarded by questions. 

How did you meet the Devil? Who summoned him? Was he always this friendly? Did he have a type UwU? 

He is super smug that he knows such a cool person.

 Beel

 He's also in shock and has no idea how to deal with this. 

He wanted to draw you away, put himself in between you and the demon king so the friendly interactions threw him for a loop. He's frozen in place as he watches your friendly get together go on, looking to Lucifer and Diavolo for a clue on how to react, but they weren't handling it well either. 

He is the quickest to accept your friendship, but he doesn't really trust the demon king. He's always quiet and formal whenever the Devil is around, kind of detaching himself from you and the situation in general. 

Will eventually cave when he see's you're in no danger and the Devil is actually a really great workout partner, even becoming close friends with him too.

Beel and Demon King lifting team 😤

 Belphie 

He hates it.

 If not for the fact that he already resents Diavolo, it's because he's put out that you seem so untouchable 

Honestly, might slip up and mention that he killed you. (And then Barbatos and you would have to step in and deescalate THAT situation) 

Honestly the most territorial of the brothers, would do his best to make it clear to the Devil that he's your friend to, by always pulling you into hugs so he can rest his head on yours or taking naps where the Devil would see you two.

  Diavolo

 The second least composed, right after Levi. He doesn't outright scream *in front of you all*, but he does start exhibiting nervous ticks that none of you had ever seen before. 

Pacing, flexing his hands, holding the back of his student council chair tightly, pitched voice, the whole nine yards, before he can finally regain his composure.

He's honestly VERY conflicted about all of this. 

He's thrilled that his father is now opening up to the idea of the human exchange program, this could have gone horribly wrong if you'd been killed in the final days of the year. He's glad that you were chosen, seemingly the most perfect candidate ever. 

He is upset though. He never knew his father had a pact. Why didn't YOU ever bring it up? His father went into hibernation seemingly eons ago, when the hell did you two make this pact? How was his yee-haw, old as the stars themselves, father able to make friends and he still struggled with that because of his status as prince and head of RAD's student council. 

While he will be happy overall, he has some deep seated issues he's going to have to talk through with Barbatos and Lucifer.

 Solomon *Light Spoilers*

 JEALOUSYYYYYYYYY 

How had you kept something this big from him!? How'd you do it? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR MAGIC!!!!!!!! HOWWWWWW!!! 

This boy is livid for about a week, refusing to talk to you, even if you did convince the Devil to allow him to stay in the Devildom too. 

He would fight himself for a week, trying to figure out how he can convince you to tell him your secrets. You got all 7 brothers pacts, and now the Devil's too!? You might as well get Diavolo's as a birthday gift! And Barbatos as a bonus! He's had to work for years for all of his pacts and you had them before you turned 50? Fuck you bro. 

Will absolutely try to get the Devil's pact too. 

Barbatos

 Hot take, BARBATOS WOULD ALREADY KNOW.

 I don't remember how Barbatos came to work for Diavolo, but I don't think it's out of the realm of possibility that he worked for Diavolo's dad before he worked for Diavolo.

He ends up working as a mini therapist to all of the brothers and Diavolo in particular after this massive reveal. 

 (I'm sorry for the formatting, I have to post it before I can fix it. Does Tumblr look weird for anyone else right now?)

((Masterlist))

[arcwhore]

Trust

{rafe cameron} x {reader}

Request: Rafe cheating at a party. 

description: rafe has a soft spot for his little sisters best friend, and is there when she leaves. who’s gonna be there when he leaves?

warnings: angst, yelling, hitting

word count: 3163

Your heels clicked as you walked up the steps of the Cresswell family manor, tightly holding your clutch in your left hand. Your right hand was clasped around your boyfriend's arm, and you could feel his biceps flex in anticipation.

                                    ≿————-   ❈   ————-≾

Every year at the end of the summer, all the Kooks went out with a bang. You were to wear the most formal attire you could find, and come with the intentions of getting fucked up.

 You had always gone with your best friend, Sarah, but just about a month ago, she started dating a Pogue; who was undeniably handsome, so you were happy for her. 

“As long as you’re happy, Sarah. I will always stand by you,” you had told her. 

She slipped away after that, barely making any time for you, ditching you at Midsummers. She was always with John B, and it hurt, but you knew that she deserved a good relationship, and so did she. You had took that as your que to venture out to new places; find new people. By new people, I mean Sarah’s brother. 

The first night she ditched you, you showed up at her house, clothes soaking wet. Despite the time, you rang the doorbell. When no one answered, you held your finger to the button, hoping there would be some kind of rapid alarm. It was all high tech, so you were just hoping, but really, you were probably just standing there like an idiot. 

After knocking, banging, and ringing the doorbell multiple times, muscly legs descended down the stairs. A tired--and very grumpy--Rafe appeared, walking towards the door all while rubbing his eyes. He saw you through the glass and debated on turning off the light and going back upstairs, but he didn’t want to have to deal with your constant pounding on the door. When he opened the door, you immediately stepped inside. 

“Woah, hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” Rafe complained. He was surprised by your entrance, your clothes clinging to your body and showing off your perfect curves. The light pink shirt you wore was now see through, prompting his eyes to attach themselves to your visible cleavage. 

“Where is Sarah?” You asked him. You figured he probably wouldn’t tell you. That, or he actually didn’t know. 

“How the fuck should I know? Little miss princess is probably hanging out with her pathetic pogue of a boyfriend.” He grumbled, taking a seat on the stairs and staring at you. 

“She ditched me! Left me at home, all by mys fucking self, while she goes out fucking her boyfriend! They’re probably having sex on his shitty bed right now, and shes not even thinking about me!”

“Well, to be fair, if she was thinking about you in the middle of sex that would be a little awkward…” Rafe interrupted. You glared at him, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “Did you really run all the way over here just to rant to me about my sister?”

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” you quoted. “Rafe, do I look like I have fucking teleportation skills? Of course I ran here! My car’s in the shop and Sarah was supposed to come over, but she didn’t and now 2 hours later, here I am, losing my shit because I’m not going to get a project done!” You vented. Rafe gave you a bitchy look, one eyebrow raised and his mouth in a straight line.

 “Come on, Rafe. Help me out here,” you begged. 

“Go home, Y/N,” he got up from his seat on the stairs, stammering towards you. He tried to usher you out the door, but you pushed his hands off. “Y/N…”

“Goddammit, Rafe!” you groaned, stomping out the door. You went out, sitting on the porch. You waited for the rain to die down, waited for some sign that it was going to slow; but it didn’t. 

Rafe watched you from inside, waiting on you to stomp your ass right back through the door, but you didn’t. You sat and stared into the night, watching the water droplets splash as they hit the stone pavement. His chest started to shrink as he watched you, his mind wandering. 

In an abrupt motion, he unlocked the door, pulling you inside. He motioned for you to follow him upstairs, and you crossed your arms reluctantly. You were starting to shiver from the AC, your cold clothes suddenly feeling like an ice bath. 

“Come on, I’ll get you some warm clothes.” you padded up the stairs after him, wondering why he was being so nice to you. You wanted to say something, to ask what the sudden change of heart was, but you knew it would ruin the moment. Your feet left prints on the floor, leading all the way to his bedroom. You watched him as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt-- well, Rafe sized-- and handed it over to you. 

“Bathrooms’ through there,” he nodded. You muttered a thanks before going to get changed. You stripped out of your sopping wet clothes, dropping them onto the floor like a wet mop. Rafe’s clothes were a bit big, but they were so comfortable. You walked back in holding your wet clothes in hand, holding them out to him.

“I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with them,” you said softly. He grabbed them from your hands, walking out of the room. He left you alone again, but this time you didn’t feel lonely. You sprawled out on his bed, taking in a deep breath of the leftover cologne on his sheets. You would have never admitted it, but he smelled amazing; like clean linens and lemon shampoo. The sound of footsteps approached you, but you were already falling into the darkness of sleep. Rafe rustled through his closet, trying to find something to put on the floor as a palette. He laid down, taking a pillow off the bed and shoving it under his head. He had a scowl on his face, upset that you took his bed, but when his eyes drifted to your peaceful figure, the frustration faded. A faint smile took its place, and he closed his eyes, drifting off. 

                                  ≿————-　❈　————-≾

You walked in together, greeted by your friends who, not to your surprise, were already hammered. They giggled at your reaction, as you were trying to mediate their state until you got a little into your system. You let go of Rafe’s arm and headed to the kitchen. He watched you walk away, turning towards one of your mutual friends and starting a conversation. 

                                    ≿————-   ❈   ————-≾

The second time was Midsummers. You came to her house early, getting ready with her. She had told you that you two would dance and drink that night. She said she was sorry and wanted to make up for what she did. You were starting to doubt her more and more with every sentence she told you, but you agreed nonetheless. 

You had a light blue dress with leg slits while she had the same, but in red. You did each others makeup while she blasted music in her bedroom. 

“I’m sorry that I ditched you that night, Y/N. It was stupid... I don’t know what I was thinking skipping out on an opportunity to hang out with you,” Sarah apologized. She powdered your face, looking into your eyes sincerely. All you did was nod and smile, hoping that would suffice. 

“I missed you, Sarah,” you muttered. 

“I know, I miss you too. So damn much,” she put her brush down and gave you a tight hug. You sank into her embrace, allowing yourself a few minutes of peace before chaos. You sighed into her shoulder. 

“Let’s get this party started!” you suddenly screamed, changing the vibe in the room. 

“You bet!” Sarah replied. She walked over to her mirror, and you stood up to look at yourself. “You look beautiful.”

“You look gorgeous,” you smiled with reassurance, stepping into your shoes and heading downstairs. Rafe met you at the bottom wearing a light blue tux. Your eyes locked, and a spark of electricity ran down from your head to your toes. You felt all warm and tingly inside just from looking at him.

“Well look at us! Did you plan this Cameron?” You teased, stepping down to the 2nd bottom step to get to his height. A smile peaked through his lips, and he tried his best to conceal it. 

“Yeah, I definitely snuck into your closet just to see what color dress you were wearing just so I could match with your lazy ass,” he snickered. 

“Oh come on, you don’t gotta be mean, Rafe. We’ve known each other for 8 years, I think it’s time to start warming up.”

“I think we’re pretty warm, considering you slept in my bed the night my sister ditched you,” he struck. You rolled your eyes at his comment, simply just brushing past him. “We were talking, Y/N!”

“We were. Now were not,” you replied briskly, swinging the door to the Cameron household open and strutting out. He stared as you walked out, entangled in your sassy personality. He loved the way you fought with him; so playful, so harmless; but somehow, it always seem to hurt him the most when you walked away. 

You had been searching for Sarah for half an hour, and you were already frustrated. The party had started and people were drinking all around you, and it made it a lot harder to see through whiskey glasses. You grabbed an unattended drink from the bar, downing it in seconds as you walked inside. 

The music muffled inside the corridor, your heels clacking on the granite floors. You began to walk up the stairs, but you heard a deep voice rumble behind you. 

“Can’t find your precious friend?” Rafe asked. You spun around, your face turning red from embarrassment. You shook your head shyly. 

“It’s fine, I knew she would leave me anyway,” you shrugged your shoulders. He scoffed, looking at you with his pupils blown. “Don’t look at me like that, dumbass.” 

You averted your gaze, but it felt as if your eyes had magnets in them, and Rafe’s were the only other ones that could lock them in place. You felt your body start to heat up as he stared at you, and your sure that your eyes were starting to get wider. You felt his hand trace up your arm, the other grabbing your waist. You let out a small gasp, trying not to show him that you were too vulnerable. His hand reached your neck, reaching around the back of it and slowly pulling you in. He stopped right when your lips were centimeters apart, waiting for you to close the gap. 

You connected your lips with his, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. His arm snuck around your waist and pulled your hips until they bumped into his. His lips glided on top of yours so gently, not at all like what you were expecting from him. Both of your minds were wandering, but someone clearing their throat ruined the mood. You pulled away from each other, checking in the direction of the noise. Ward stood there with a smirk on his face.

“If you’re gonna kiss, go do it in private,” he winked, passing by and heading to the bathroom. He turned to look at you, giving you the ‘I’m watching you’ motion, and you giggled. You turned back to Rafe.

“What do you say we take this somewhere more private, good sir?” You joked.

“Of course M’Lady,” he smiled. 

                                   ≿————-　❈　————-≾

The smell of alcohol and weed was smothering, but you were trying to do anything to take the edge off. You had been looking forward to this party all day, and the fight with your parents early this morning didn’t help but fuel you more. You grabbed the closest bottle and took it straight, bringing it to your lips and feeling your body warm up. You kicked around the balloons that floated on the ground as you drank, swallowing swig after swig. You set down the bottle and took off your shoes, putting them on the pile in the corner before you saw Rafe headed towards you. You reached out your hands for him and screamed, “Let’s dance!” 

You dragged him out on the floor, backing up against him and grinding. He had his hands on your hips, swaying you, but he wasn’t holding you like he usually did. You spun around, trying to meet his gaze. When you turned, his eyes were preoccupied, but they snapped back to you before you could see what he was looking at. 

“What’s wrong?” Your head titled to the side in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. He shook his head.

“Nothing, sorry.”

“You sure? Cause I can get out way for you,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You threw up your hands, exasperated, and walked to the kitchen again. He didn’t even try to follow you. You grabbed a pre-roll off the counter, pulling out the lighter in your bra. You inhaled, letting the smoke fill your lungs. Exhaling through your nose, your eyes closed and you allowed the beat of the music to flow through you. You started to sway your hips again, bringing your arms up in response. You moved towards the party again, joint still in hand. You moved through the overcrowded living room of sweaty teenagers, searching for your tree of a boyfriend. You took another drag, blowing the smoke in some strangers’ face. You couldn’t help but laugh when she made a disgusting face at you. 

The anger in your bones started to shake you when you couldn’t find Rafe. “I know damn well...”

Your thought process kicked in when you stepped out of the crowd. You stomped up the stairs, opening every door that was unlocked. You walked in on a few couples but left too quick to say sorry. You opened one door, and it was pitch black. You heard the bed stop squeaking when you entered. You flipped on the light, trying your best to make out the figures on the bed. It was a good idea, fucking a girl behind your back, but doing it in the dark so you would never suspect a thing, right? Wrong. 

“Rafe?” You shrieked, eyes settling on the half naked figure staring at you with wide eyes. You could hear the girl under him whisper to him. You smirked and advanced towards them. 

“Who is it, Rafe?” The girl asked. He stuttered, trying to find his words. He fully stood, trying to stop you from getting any closer.

“Yeah, who is it, Rafe? Who-” you pushed him back, “fucking is it?”

“Y/N, chill out,” he mediated. You laughed, looking over at the bed. 

“This bitch? Come on, if you’re gonna cheat on me, cheat on me with someone who’s prettier than me. It’s the least you can do!”

“I-I didn’t realize he had-” you interrupted the ginger.

“You, shut the fuck up and get out,” you yelled. She scrambled for her clothes, running out into the hallway with only her underwear on. You glared at him, waiting for a response. “Come on, say it big boy.”

“Y/N...” you raised your eyebrows, tilting your head in inquisitively. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s all you got to say, huh?” He stayed silent. “You’re un-fucking-believable. I mean, who thought; Rafe Cameron actually being struck speechless? Bullshit!”

“Y/N, it was a mistake, I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized. His eyes were pleading, trying desperately for you to listen to him. You gestured for him to continue. “I love you, but I don’t...”

“You don’t what Rafe?” you asked. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship, Y/N!” You looked at him for a minute, trying to see if he was serious or not. His face never faltered, and you broke out into a smile. You were laughing so hard, trying not to break out crying in the process. He kept his gaze on you, his face full of confusion from your reaction. 

“You’re full of shit, Cameron! Just like the rest of your family!”

“Y/N, do we have to do this here?” Rafe pointed of the gatherings of people outside the door. 

“Do we have to- you dumb fuck!” you punched his bare chest. “Did you have to,” hit, “fuck,” hit, “that girl,” slap to the face, “here?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Rafe Cameron,” you turned and started walking out the door, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whimpered.

“Fuck you.”

                                  ≿————-　❈　————-≾

Cuddled up in your bed reading a book, you were interrupted by a knock on your door. “Y/N, baby, you have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” you heard feet scurrying at the door.

“It’s Sarah,” the sweet voice spoke. 

“Go away, Sarah,” you grumbled, stuffing your face in a pillow. You heard the door open and close and you rolled over on your back. 

“What do you want?” You asked harshly. She sat on the edge of the bed slowly, trying not to overstep her boundaries. 

“Look, I just wanted to say that Rafe’s been a total wreck without you the past few days-”

“Let me stop you right there; if you came over here to try to convince me to get back together with that douchebag, then you can go ahead and leave.” You sighed, throwing your head back. “I don’t wanna hear anything else about him.”

“No, God, no. I think he needed to feel some pain, kick his ass into line. I just wanted you to know how miserable you made him.”

“He made himself miserable,” you sat up, looking at her eyes for the first time in weeks. You missed the delicate features that you used to see every day. 

“I know, sorry. I’m just sorry that he did that to you, and I just feel like it’s my fault.”

“Honestly, it mostly is. You ditched me and he gave me comfort. It was just my stupid decision that led me to fall for him.”

“Well, didn’t expect the guilt trip today, but I guess I deserve that,” she chuckled. “Can we please start over? I’m so sorry for all the shit I did to you, and I’m sorry about how it all ended up. I miss my best friend.”

She gave you the pouty face which she knew you could resist. You thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing. 

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get along with your brother.” She squealed and clapped her hands together, giving you a caste kiss on the cheek. 

You looked at her and smiled.

“I fucking missed you.”

my masterlist

[melloian]

Character Bio 4

Gabriel Agreste

Age:46

Gender: M

Race: French

Species: Human

Alignment: Bad

Status: Alive

Relatives: Amelie (sister-in-law), Felix (son), Adrien (son), Ambre (niece), Oscar (nephew), unnamed mother-in-law

Occupation: Mahow lee Agency {MLA} (formerly), Fashion designer, Supervillain, Chairman of Daroness (villain tower)

Love interest: Emilie (married)

Friends: Tomoe, Nathalie(formerly), Lila, the mime (formerly), Villains who work at Daroness

Enemies: Miraculous heroes, Felix, The Guardians

True Personality: Narcissistic, cold-hearted, determined, Enigmatic, Experimental, deceptive, opinionated, formal, forceful, control-freak, strict, Irritable

Fake Personality: Nice, calm, sympathetic, Magnanimous, Stoic, honest

Bio: Gabriel is a fashion designer who usually do contests or take people designs just to promote them. He pretty much owns his own fashion studio. He’s also rich and owns 2 sons. He likes his 2nd son, Adrien, more then His 1st son. Most of the time, he don’t really spend time with his children or at home because he always “busy” with his work.  Behind doors, he known as a villain, name Hawk Moth.

As a Villain: He usually corrupts people with his akuma to reach to his goal. He also give a villain a task to help him with his goal.  His goal is to get a miraculous who rewrites time or a time travelling miraculous to fix all his mistakes(he also wants to take the miraculouses from the heroes so he can achieve his goal). But he also want to use it for to control how things operate. 

He’s the one who created corrupted kwamis.

Gabriel also rans Daroness, a far away tower for villains. He starts meetings and give villains orders. 

He usually can get angry really fast which scares some villains.

Backstory: 

Agency & Emilie

Gabriel was 30 when he joined the MLA. He was usually tasked to steal, hack, get data, act, and slaughter. He was also tasked to disguise in a certain way. He usually go by those orders, even if he doesn’t like it. He worked there for 5 years, until he met a women name Emilie. He met her in a cafe. He soon fall in love with Emilie when he got to know her more. Because he started to fall in love with her, he started to do less and less of his job and more trying to get with her. He also painted this fake imagery and personality to get with her. Eventually he quitted his job completely just to get a fashion career instead. Soon, Emilie loved Gabriel and they started dating. Eventually they have gotten married.

Downfall of Family

10 years later

When his sons where born, he cared for both his 2 sons. He dearly loved his wife as well. He also hired an assistant name Nathalie. He usually tells her to take care his family and other things.  He tried to be a good father and satisfy everyone.

However, one day, Emilie was searching for something. She went to Gabriel's room to search for what she wanted. She came across a safe he had. She decided to opened it, and found data of victims he killed and some other data. Emilie was terrified, and then Gabriel came in the room. Emilie was terrified of him, so he was worrying why she was scared of him. Until he saw the safe was opened. He tried to explain to her but she didn’t want to hear it, and run out of the room. He have gotten upset about and even thinking about why he never burned those papers. So later he planned something. When Emilie was in the kitchen drinking her tea, she left the kitchen to go to the bathroom. Gabriel put a U-89 (a substance that causes people to go in coma) inside her tea. He thought that if she get into a coma, she would think this all as a dream. She drink her tea and later that night she started coughing. She soon fall unconscious, which Nathalie saw. Nathalie tried to see if Emilie was ok, but she didn't wake up whatever she still was breathing. Nathalie wanted to call the hospital, however Gabriel came in the room and grabbed her roughly. He told her to call no one and if she did he will kill her. Gabriel didn’t notice Felix was watching him the whole time and screamed. Gabriel realized he messed up but at the time he didn’t even care. He later yelled at Nathalie to smelt the safe so that no one will know what happened. 

Cousins Death

5 years later

Gabriel was in house at the time talking to Amelie. He agreed to his nephew and niece to come. He soon stopped talking to her and heard something upstairs. He went upstairs and take a peek in Felix’s room. He was hearing the conversation about how Ambre knew about uncle’s murder. He also heard she knew it by her aunt, Emilie, when she was talking to Amelie before she went into a coma. Felix asked where she was at and she answered, which made Gabriel close the door slowly. He soon drive where she and her brother was at. Ambre was questioning what he was doing here, but instead he asked to come to this alley he pointed too. She and her brother followed. However as soon they both came over, He shoved Oscar against the wall. He started choking him, in result of Ambre screaming and dropping her phone, which cracked her phone. Ambre started to run and call for help, but instead Gabriel threw a knife, which result of killing her. He quickly grab the knife and run off from the scene, which caused the police to not know who killed them both. In result, Ambre’s last footage on her phone was her brother choking, leaving Felix traumatized.

Amelie hospitalized

 1 week later

Amelie was looking for her children. She put missing signs everywhere and asked people do they know where they at. She called Gabriel if he knew where they was at. He lied about it and Amelie just took his words. Amelie soon visited his house just so she can have some company. She spends crying about it and Gabriel tried to make her relax about it. Felix walked into the living room seeing Amelie crying. Felix asked if he can talk to Amelie privately and Gabriel let him. As Felix and Amelie was having a conversation, He standing right near the wall to listen to their conversation. Amelie burst out crying because of what Felix said to what he did to her kids. Amelie didn’t know if she wanted to trust Gabriel anymore. Later in the afternoon (awhile its raining), she was upstairs and was about to leave. However, Gabriel rushed upstairs and pushed her to other room. She was yelling at him for why he did that, but he soon pulled out a baseball bat. He started beating her awhile she was screaming. Felix heard the screaming which scared him and he ran to the room they was at. When Amelie was almost dying, Gabriel soon called Nathalie to call the hospital now, which Nathalie found odd that he wants to doctors to come. Felix was about the call the police, but Gabriel shoved him against the wall and threaten to kill him if he called the police. Which terrified Felix and ran back to his room crying. Gabriel then ran to the basement (with his baseball bat) so that he wouldn’t get caught. He smelted the baseball bat. Soon the ambulance came and went to the house. Nathalie instructed where the person at and they took Amelie to the hospital.  Until then, Amelie is still hospitalized. 

This resulted Gabriel wanted to fix his past mistakes, to involve all this murdering and discovering from happening. Because of this entire incident, he switched back to his true personality.

As Hawk Moth 

Altered personality: none since the user is full control of the kwami personality.

Abilities:

Med durability

Flexibility

Slightly slow

Shadow wings - creates butterfly like shadow wings and gives him flight

Butterflicks - summons butterflies

Darkness awakens - summons a dark mist that comes across the entire area

ButterLeech - turn akumazatied butterflies into butterfly like leeches

Dizo - Causes the person become dizzy. can also cause the person to hallucinate. 

Beaming Ray - shoots purple ring rays

Since this is a corrupted form, he have no type of purifiy of any other substance (not like his akumanzation.)

Empathy - can sense anyone emotions

Body transmission - the user can control the body of an akumanzatied being.

Main ability

Akumanzation - can  control a person by using a butterfly to control the people in negative emotion. The person that the user picked will serve them for ever long the user want them to serve. This will transform them into a supervillain if agreed.

The user can also cancel akumanzatied if it affects the wrong person.

Weapon: cane

 As Plumule

Altered personality:  none since the user is full control of the kwami personality.

Abilities:

med durability 

Flexibility

Fast

Plucker - summon feathers

Eyes of the feather - changes the user eyes and brainwash the person into doing something

StepBeat - causes the user to dance and fight (dancing awhile fighting makes the user stronger and make the user more effcient in fighting) 

Empathy - can sense anyone emotions

Body transmission - the user can control the body of an akumanzatied being.

Doesn’t have much powers due to being corrupted.

Since this is a corrupted form, he have no type of purifiy of any other substance (not like his akumanzation.).

Main ability

Amokization -  can  control a person by using a feather to control the people in negative emotion. The person that the user picked will serve them for ever long the user want them to serve. If the user agrees, they will create sentimonster which the user in trapped inside to control.  It can also create a separate entity from the person emotions that controls differently without a person controlling it. 

The user can also cancel amokizatied if it affects the wrong person.

Weapon: Fan and shoes..

Writer (self-akumantizaed form)

altered personality: its the same since its self-akumantization

Cause of akumanzation: because he can

Goal: Write ladybug and chat noir out of existence

akumantized object: book

Abilities:

Flight (most likely just levitatian)

Fast

He can draw a picture and it comes to life. 

He can also write a scenario and it will happen in reality, however he must do it under 50 seconds.

(its collector but different powers)

Destroyer (self-amokization)

Sentimonster personality: It have none, Gabriel made it soulless as possible.

cause of amokzation: he was getting sick of the heroes ruining his plans

Goal: kill ladybug and chat noir

amokized object: book (again)

Abilities:

Destroys anything on its path form non living to living things.

Can burn anything into crisp

Also tough to defeat

It huge appearance makes it able to crush anyone

Relationships (main ones)

Gabriel & Adrien

Gabriel deeply cares for Adrien, since he’s the only one in the family who doesn’t know the truth. He tries to protect from bad influences  and outside world. He  pretty much strict about everything towards his son. He also force him to do certain activities because he claims it will belief him.

Chat Noir

Gabriel pretty much dislikes chat noir. He thinks he’s irritating to deal with. 

However, Gabriel sometimes thinks about if chat noir and Adrien is the same person.

Gabriel & Nathalie

Gabriel trusts Nathalie as his assistant.  He tasks her to do things for him and make sure she take care of his children. He also trusts her being a helper with amokzations. He sometimes worries about her in certain solutions, causing him to get angry if she risks herself. Even though he does this, he don’t really have sympathy for her.

Betrayal Arc

However, the entire time she was plotting against him. Gabriel was very shocked that she wanted him dead. She tries the explain what he done to her and everyone else. He completely snapped when she pull out a ray gun. He decided to charge at her and punch her hard. She become unconscious after that and he left the room awhile taking her ray gun. 

Gabriel & Felix

Gabriel just hates Felix with a burning passion. He blames him for every mistake he has done and blames him for attacking everyone like this. He treats Felix like an dog and don’t really have any respect for his son. He gets completely angry if Felix snitches on him.  He’s also pretty jealous of Felix because of his abilities. He wishes to completely drain his power so he can use it to time travel. He would kill Felix however, he doesn’t want to make Adrien upset and figure out who did it. He just happy that Adrien isn’t going to listen to Felix.

Gabriel & The Mime 

Gabriel had met mime when he wasn’t a criminal at the time.  He pretty much lure him into his tower and manipulated him to become a villain with him which succeeded. He usually tasks mime sometimes to commit a certain crime for him. But if mime refuses, he gets angry about it. He appreciates mime’s effort on crimes and fighting. However, he doesn’t care about mime. He pretty much toy with his emotions in order for him to anything properly. He also sees Mime nothing but a slave. He could do this since he learn what emotion he’s in by expressions(since he can’t speak).

However, mime later realized this by ladybug which caused him to betray him. 

(mime post to be holding a gun btw)

Gabriel & Lila

Gabriel met Lila at a park. Every since he met her, they became allies. He give her the most tasks since she able to akumantize people with her manipulation. He pretty much trust lila with the help. However, he really don’t know lila as a whole. 

Gabriel & Emilie

(young picture of them)

Gabriel loved his wife dearly. He didn’t want anyone to hurt her or anything. He tried to satisfy her. But every since she found out what he used to be, he was very upset. He thought he had no choice but to put her in a coma so she can forget what he have done. He wants to travel back in time just to be with her again.

Gabriel & Nooroo

Gabriel doesn’t care about nooroo at all. He pretty much controls his body and mindset in order to have freewill of using the kwami. Everytime nooroo tries to escape it, Gabriel attempts to make the corruption stronger.

Full Body

As an young adult (in agency)

Other Information

It was hard for him to enter and quit his job as agent

He sometimes cries awhile alone

He sometimes suicidal thoughts.

He can actually speak in his hawk moth form, it just stretches his face. The more he does it, the more it will hurt.

Even though he’s aware of his mistakes, he just wanna pit it on some one else.

His glasses are not actually prescription glasses, their fake glasses. Its so he can give off an innocent look. 

His hair ended up messy due too stress and doesn’t bother to fix it up anymore.

His hair turned gray faster then Emilie due to stress. 

He stole the butterfly miraculous 

Lol edginess funni

idk am trying 

[wosofan14]

Danielle van de Donk on Oranje Leeuwinnen’s Insta live - 25/10/20 (Rough English Translation)

Daan: Can you guys hear me? Yes, come on, you can come join me! I don’t know if they can hear me. That’s the doctor, you guys don’t probably know her, but she’s really silly. She’s from Brabant, so that’s what you get. She’s the Karona specialist (I guess her name is Karen). I think that they can actually hear me pretty well.

Someone off camera: Are there any questions coming in?

Daan: There are questions coming in I think.

Someone on the live: We can hear you

Daan: You don’t have to say U (formal way of saying you).

1st question: What goal did you find the best against Estonia?

Daan: Ummmm I don’t actually know! They were all almost the same. I did find it very nice that Katja and Aniek scored their first goals which are always beautiful and special goals. Keep coming through with the questions. Otherwise I have a list of questions that we can go through. How long do I actually have to do this for? *inaudible background answer*.

Daan: Well you guys have 8 minutes.

2nd question: Do you think that you have a fun team?

Daan: Yes, very fun! Ummmmm yeah I have nothing much to say, they’re very nice and fun people! They all want to win.

3rd question (directly answered from the live): How old are you?
Daan: I am 29 years old.

4th question: Do you think that you’ll be able to beat the USA the next time you play them?

Daan: Yes I think so. I think that in soccer anything is possible. So yes, I think that it is possible.

Daan: *reads comment from Jackie asking how tall she is*: Jackie Groenen. Go away. I am taller than you so....

5th question: Are you are morning or evening person?

Daan: Afternoon. In the morning it takes me some time to wake up, in the evening I get tired pretty easily, so afternoon.

6th question: When you started playing football as a little kid, did you ever imagine that you’d make it this far?

Daan: No, I never imagined it. But its something that I always wanted and dreamed about and worked hard towards, so I always wanted to achieve it. *responding to another onscreen comment from a teammate* Yes Inessa, I am very good in tiktoking. You as well? You have to be, as that is something we are doing today!

*someone enters the room*

Daan: Hi! You can defiantly come on the insta live if you want! Come on!

7th question: How long do you want to continue to play football for?

Daan: I don’t know. Now, this is Moon.

Moon: The fun table mate.

Daan: Yup. We sit together at the same table because we can’t change seats anymore, so she’s stuck with me! But she’s very fun. I’m glad that she’s a part of the selection.

8th question: What do you still hope to achieve in football?

Daan: Ooh. I would really want to win the Champions League with Arsenal. That would be very fun. Ummm I also want to experience the Olympics and win a medal at the games. Ummm what else do I want? I don’t know, maybe some individual prizes as well, but yeah, I don’t know if that will ever happen but we’re going to try our best.

*Kika comments on the livestream*

Daan: Hi Kika. How exciting, all my teammates are joining on the live stream.

9th question: Where is everyone else?

Daan: I don’t know. But someone behind me is laughing the whole time. The rest are here on the Tiktok, I mean Instagram live, so I don’t actually know where they are. So Van Es, Inessa, Jackie, I see you guys reacting and commenting on my live but what are you actually doing?

10th question: Who makes the best jokes on the team?

Daan: I think that it has to be Shanice. She is really funny all the time. She always makes everyone laugh.

11th question: What did you study?

Daan: I studied sports management and sports marketing at the Johan Cruyff University (now Academy). I quite enjoyed it, but it took forever to complete.

12th question: Who is the smartest on the team?

Daan: Ummmm... Sherida Spitse. She’s also sitting here eating pancakes.

13th question: Who is the best dancer?

Daan: I think that Kika Van Es is a very good dancer, but she doesn’t always dare to all the time, but she can dance very well. Ummm Danique Kerkdijk is also a very good dancer. Personally, I am always a little bit behind the beat, nut dance as if no one is watching, you know?

14th question: What stadium would you like to most play at?

Daan: I am always going to choose the PSV stadium. It was very fun to play there.

15th question: Who nutmegs the most on the team?

Daan: I’d have to say Renate Jansen is pretty good at them. Vivianne Miedema as well. Personally, I always look for opportunities to nutmeg teammates, but they aren’t always successful. I do try though!

16th question: How old were you when you began playing soccer?

Daan: I was 4 years old and I began playing at FC Valkenswaard. But I could only train with them at that age. I began playing in actual games when I was 5.

*someone asks about the live*

Daan: We are only doing lives today, but there are others coming later such as Dominique Jansen and Lize Kop. If all goes well, I’ll be replaced in 3 minutes by one of those two. If they’re late, then you guys will have the luck that I will continue sitting here until they show up!

17th question: Jackie or Shanice?

Daan: No I’m not going to choose. They play in very different positions.

18th question: What languages do you speak?
Daan: English and Dutch.

19th question: Would you ever want to play in the Dutch league? (Eredivisie Vrouwen)

Daan: I think so, but it depends. I would like to possibly make another move in my career. But it really depends on my body for how long I can continue playing for.

20th question: Who has the worst taste in music on the team?

Daan: Stefanie van der Gragt. She only puts traditional Dutch music on.

21st question: Who was your idol growing up?

Daan: It was always Renee Slegers and Kirsten van de Ven. They were also from Brabant and I played with them at Willem II and they were always better and very good captains, so I learned a lot from them.

22nd question: What is your favourite Netflix series?

Daan: Ummmm I think Emily and Paris at the moment. I really enjoyed that one. I don’t enjoy horror series or movies though, because then I can’t sleep. I’ve never enjoyed them. But if they’re a little intense, that’s okay. Other than that I don’t really know much of what is on Netflix.

Daan: Hey friends! So, it turns out that the next guest has showed up on time, so I have to go soon. You guys have the luck to speak with Dominique Jansen. 
Dominique: You still have a minute left. Oh now it’s ten past. Are these the questions?

Daan: answers a question about missing fans in English.

*Shanice says something in the background*
Daan: Why? Come here then!

Dominique: Leave her alone, she’s doing her best!

Daan: Shanice van de Sanden is standing by the door and shouting random things. But yes, I am going to end now and leave. Do is now here for you guys. Thanks for all your questions, they were all really good! Make it difficult for the next ones and talk to you soon! Bye!

[pierregasly]

Would love to hear your full take on Pierre,,,

Sorry this took me a few days to get to, I meant to answer it immediately but never found the motivation :( Anyways, onto Pierre. 

I believe you are commenting on a post of mine where I stated my fear that the Middle Generation of drivers (Charles, Carlos, Pierre and Max specifically) have/are going to miss out on opportunities and will never reach their full potential in F1. This is similar to what happened to the “Lost Generation” which is comprised of drivers such as Daniel, Kevin, Nico and Checo. To reiterate something that another asker was confused about: it has nothing to do with talent. The generations are not lumped together based on talent but based on their similar ages/entrance into F1 and I am speaking on the wasted potential that this group never got to achieve. (For example, Nico’s full potential was podiums--he never got here. And Daniel’s full potential was a championship--which he’ll never get.) 

I am not going to waste your time and state what I said briefly about Charles, Carlos and Max but I will go into depth more so about what I hardly touched upon with Pierre. As I said, Pierre is a phenomenal talent. As much as his podium and race win may have proven it to the world, many still call him a “luck driver” who is not good enough for a higher team. This is, obviously, because of  his time at Red Bull dramatically overshadowed his career. 

I started following Pierre around 2017 when I first got interested in F1 because of the history. In 2017 he wasn’t racing in Europe but in Super Formula so I took the time to catch up on his career thus far (I will go into depth on this in a moment). I didn’t start watching F1 until 2018 and the only driver (non-historical) I really was attached to was Pierre (others would comes later). Obviously, if you remember, Pierre ended up taking P5 in qualifying and P4 in a Toro Rosso in front of the whole world in only a few races at Bahrain. It was absolutely incredible and for the rest of the season until his Red Bull announcement, Pierre was dishing points place after points place after points place in only his first full season in F1. Therefore, while it was only his FIRST FULL SEASON, the jump to Red Bull ultimately felt justified. 

Of course, this did not end up being the case. Our joy over Pierre getting to be in a higher team made us completely and utterly forget the track record Red Bull has left with its second drivers. For those of you who are new to F1 (either coming in 2019, mid-2019 or 2020) you missed out on Pierre’s debut season which was fantastic for the car he was given. Furthermore, if you came in during mid-2019 or 2020 and you think that the treatment RB gave to Alex is horrible--you are hardly touching the surface. The treatment that RB is giving Alex versus Pierre is like taking your sons on summer vacation and then having one of them sleep on the comfy twin bed with two blankets and the other kid on the floor without so much as PJs. We haven’t even touched upon Daniil. Daniil would be like the parents leaving the kid outside to sleep. 

Let’s move on. It is very easy to look at Pierre’s season and tout only negative things. It was not his best moment and, yes, he certainly could’ve done better. However, with what he was given? Are we even sure about that? For example, Pierre become open with the media following his demotion. Not only did RB leave it to the very last moment but they also would:

1) Use Pierre’s car and car parts to test Max. 

2) When Pierre requested a more experienced engineer, he was denied. However, when Alex requested the same thing, he was given it. 

3) RB consistently spoke horribly of him in front of the media. They constantly spoke that he needed to do better and never tried to build him up. 

4) Emotionally pressured Pierre to his breaking limit.

Now the difference between RB and many other teams is that when the going gets tough for their drivers, many teams choose to build their drivers up to set them up for success. RB’s method is to tear their drivers down and hope that they can pick up their own pieces once they become annoyed with humiliation. The demotion was far, far too quick. Think of Alex--he has been getting worse and worse and worse with a year and half of time at Red Bull. Pierre managed half a season before they gave him the boot. The boot was also without warning even despite Pierre getting better and better each race. 

This is all information you probably already know, I said earlier I would touch upon his younger career and how this has been overshadowed and forgotten due to his time at RB. Here are some facts/statistics that will be important for my point later:

Finished 3rd in the French F4 championship with four wins, two poles and seven podiums over the course of only fourteen races despite having three retirements (the 2nd placer had 0 and the 1st placer only had 1). 

In his first season at Eurocup Formula Renault 2.0 he finished 10th of 51 different racers and every person but one who finished before him in the championship was older than him. Pierre was only 16 when Stoffel V was 20, Daniil K was 18, Oliver R was 20, Norman N was 20, Nyck V was 17, Paul L was 21, Oscar T was 16, Melville M was 18 and Alex R was 18. 

In his second season of Eurocup Formula Renault 2.0 he finished first in front of the likes of Esteban Ocon, Oliver Rowland, Jake Dennis, Nyck de Vries, Luca Ghitto and Alexander Albon.

Finished 6th in the 2013 Formula Renault 2.0 Alps Series despite missing half of the season and there being 42 competitors total (everyone ahead of him completed the full season). 

Finished 2nd of 28 competitors in the 2014 Formula Renault 3.5 Series and lost to none other than Carlos Sainz Jr. 

Finished 1st in his second full season of GP2 (now formally classified as F2).

The GP2 race he won in Silverstone happened right after a huge roadcar accident in which his mother ended up in the hospital. Pierre himself fractured his vertebrae and still went on to win the race while his mother was in the hospital and he had a broken bone. 

Was called in to replace a Renault edams driver in Formula E. He was jet lagged, tired and got only a few hours in the sims. He still managed to secure P4 in qualifying and then was set for a P3 finish but he crashed into the wall on the last corner of the last lap and came home in P4. THIS WAS HIS FIRST TIME EVER IN AN FE RACE OR AN FE CAR.

Finished second in Super Formula in 2017 but lost by only half a point. One of the races in the season was abandoned when he was set to win because of flooding and storm. Had it not been abandoned he would’ve finished first at the end of the season. 

All this pretty much brings you up to speed to when he entered into F1 (which all his amazing stuff you should be familiar with). Moving more onto my “take” regarding Pierre. I have shown evidence for why he is an incredible driver, however, now we’re moving onto the not so great bit. I suppose I must answer one question before I move on. 

Do I think Pierre is good enough, against all the rest of the talent in F1, to get consistent podiums if given the proper car? Absolutely. Do I think Pierre is good enough, against all the rest of the talent in F1, to get consistent wins if given the proper car? Absolutely. Do I think Pierre is good enough, against all the rest of the talent in F1, to fight/win a championship one day if given the proper car? This I firmly believe is possible (other thing I’ll get into if someone wants).

The reason I worry and am distressed about Pierre is because I don’t believe he’ll ever get a go at a higher team again. RB really put a shadow over his career, a shadow that is going to worry other teams from placing him into their cars. He has ultimately proven himself with podiums and, of course, the race win. However, seeing as there is so much young talent coming into F1, I don't see there being a place for him. 

Mercedes is set to most likely be Max and George when Lewis retires. Red Bull would never dare to put him in that seat again. Ferrari has their “golden generation” of Charles and Mick to look after. And those are the seemingly “top teams” (if you can even all Ferrari that). Let’s look at the others. Racing Point is going to be Lance and Seb until Seb retires. I don’t see Pierre ever going to Alpha Romeo. And McLaren is set up for the next few years with Lando and Daniel. Haas--I don’t think so. This is ultimately dangerous for Pierre’s career because RB likes to keep fresh meat in their B team car (or if you trust Horner it’s their “sister team” lol). Pierre’s best chance is the escape the RB family. AND I UNDERSTAND that the regulations could make things VERY different in F1 for the future. These are just my hypothesis and guesses--all is subjective and up to interpretation so @ anybody reading this--relax, buddy. So where does Pierre fit in in the future? These are some scenarios I have conjured up. 

1) Mercedes. Let’s say that, possibly. Max never ends up moving into that second Merc seat and instead remains at RB wasting away until they can get him a better car for the rest of his career (ooo burn sorry it’s for the scenario don’t hate me). This would open up a place at Merc for Pierre to truly shine his potential. Most likely, he would play second fiddle to George but hey--it’s still a seat where can utilize that potential. 

2) Red Bull. This would be if they get desperate. I don’t think if given a second chance, Pierre would say no. If Max were still in the team, he would be second fiddle. I can see Pierre going to RB if Max leaves for Merc in the next few years and they want him to lead Yuki or if Yuki doesn’t shine in AT and they end up dropping him they are going to be slim Pickens... I don’t know if being at RB will give him a place where he can utilize his potential but it’s a possibility. 

3) Ferrari. This would be only a chance if Mick doesn’t do great in Alpha Romeo and they need someone to fill the seat of their obvious place holder Carlos. He would be alongside Charles. Other than that.... Ferrari seems pretty set and there isn’t any space. 

4) McLaren. This I don’t see as very possible? I would love to see him in orange but they seem pretty set with Daniel and Lando. I think Daniel is probably going to ride out the end of his career there. Lando seems very integrated into the team and I can’t see him leaving unless he got a better offer like Merc. If Max didn’t end up taking the second Merc seat in the future and remains at RB then Lando might be given an offer which would open up a place that Pierre could possibly take. Do I count this as realistic? Not really, but it could happen. At McLaren I could see Pierre utilizing his potential. 

5) Renault. This is one of the options that seems most realistic to me. They're set with Fernando for the next few years. If they decided, after 2021, to give the boot to Esteban, that would open up a place for Pierre in a French team that would love a French driver (they already have one but Pierre is a FRENCH WINNER). You know that teams loves their nationalism.... Anyways. Or, possibly, Fernando retires after two years (again lol) which would open up a seat for Pierre to take along Esteban. However, I don’t really see Esteban staying long term because Renault probably needs to put one of their Renault babies like Guanyu or Christian in there. 

6) Williams. Lol. No. 

7) Haas. I don’t see it happening really??? I have my reasons but my gut just says... Au revoir.

8) Racing Point. THIS. This I see as 100% 100% a possibility. Let’s say that Seb retires after two years--this would open up a seat. Pierre is a strong, consistent and stable driver who doesn’t make mistakes. Here he could really use his potential!! #PierreInGreen!!

9) Alpha Romeo. As I said... I really don’t see it. They seem pretty busy with all their young guys. 

So to conclude, the future for Pierre lies at either Renault or Racing Point (less chance but possible includes Merc to McLaren). To not take up any more of  your time, this is what I mean by Pierre being an incredible talent who may or may not get a chance at a higher team. He deserves to have more and to have a second chance. He has really proven himself and is pulling the absolutely maximum out of himself. I really want to see him with more, like he deserves. 

Even Charles wanted him as his teammate at Ferrari back in April... that’s saying even more. Everyone on the grid except Esteban rate him highly as a person and as a driver. His potential deserves smth better. He has proven himself time and time again against everyone who told him he wasn't good enough and who still say it was all just luck. There exists luck. But firmer than luck, there exists skill. 

Pierre Gasly is a race winner in an Alpha Tauri. Do not forget that. 

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Grand Tour

I decided to write about Thomas Drake and his crew for this one.  As usual, I do not own any other characters except Drake and his crew.  Enjoy the story.  

“I am not a good person, but I am an honest one.”

-Thomas Drake

“You said you wanted to take a tour of my ship, so, here we are.”  Drake gave an elaborate, formal bow.  “Welcome aboard the Apocalypse.  You all have your engineers with you?”  He looked around the group of, who did, indeed have all their engineers with them.  “Good.  Everyone is invited, and if you are able to replicate anything you see here from memory, then I think it’s yours, fairly won.”  Which cut right into the heart of why everyone had their engineers here.  

Drake turned into the hangar bay, beginning the tour.  “The Apocalypse is an Apricus Industries 745-class light cruiser, heavily modified by us, of course.  Originally named the Summer’s Light, it was renamed something more appropriate for a warship after me and my merry band of maniacs stole it during the Jerrick War.  It was, uh, well, upgraded, as I said before, and now includes reinforced shielding on the hull, better engines, best in class, as a matter of fact, heavy railgun batteries, more point defense batteries, and nuclear launch tubes, of which I am particularly proud of.  Unique amongst most capital sized ships from my home galaxy, it can enter atmosphere, a fact that I have come to appreciate in my line of work.  Now, this,” he waved vaguely at their surroundings, “is the hangar bay.  We only need a couple of shuttles, so for the most part, it’s open and used by the armsmen for training.  Speaking of which,” he nodded in the direction of a group wearing a collection of military-looking uniforms watching two of their number spar, “those are the armsmen.”  Drake gave a sharp whistle, and the armsmen stopped what they were doing.  Three of their number walked over to the Scoundrels, while the rest milled around, apparently taking a break from what they were doing.  

Drake gave the classic back-and-forth gesture that has accompanied introductions since the dawn of time as he called out the three individuals.  “Derrick Saul, commander of 1st Squad.”  The armsman furthest to the left, a deeply sunburn man with hair cut so short he may as well have been bald, gave them a polite nod.  “Jean Garang, commander of 2nd Squad.”  The armsman in the middle, a tall woman with exceptionally dark-hued skin and short cut black hair also gave a nodd.  “And Rilgaldis, commander of 3rd Squad.”  A massive reptilian alien, well over seven feet tall, gave them a salute.  “Scoundrels, Saul, Garang, and Rilgaldis.  Rilgaldis, Garang, and Saul, the Scoundrels.”  Drake gave a moment’s pause.  “Well then, now introductions have been made.  Why don’t you three tell my glorious compatriots exactly where you come from and why you’re galavanting across the galaxy with an unstable mercenary?”  Drake’s joking manner broke the formal and somewhat strained atmosphere.  The Scoundrels relaxed, and Saul grinned.  

“Fine.  I’ll go first.  Born on Europa, joined the 317th Federal Expeditionary Division.  I’m here because, well, you pay more than the Federal Army, Captain.”

“Same thing with me.  Born in Sudan, joined the Army, got put in the 5th Guards.  Drake pays more than the Federation,” said Garang.  

“And you, Rilgaldis?”

“Born into the Dracus Army, left, joined the Imperial Foreign Legion, left, joined you because you pay better,” said Rilgaldis.  

“Yes.  The three leaders of my armsmen.  Matter of fact, it’s a wonder you two,” he indicated Saul and Garang, “get along as well as you do.”  

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” asked Kirk.  Saul and Garang grinned at each other.  

“You see, we are on opposite sides of one of humanity's oldest questions.  Matter of fact, Garang, let’s settle this once and for all.  You all seem like you know what you’re talking about.”  The Scoundrels looked at each other, hesitant about what the question would bring.  “So, here we go, and I know that you’ll all agree with me: 9 milimetre Parabellum or .45 ACP?”  

“What?” replied Vir.  The other Scoundrels seemed to be equally bemused by the question.  

“Are you not a soldier or a weapons enthusiast?  Don’t pick up guns like the rest of us?”

“I was a pilot, now an Admiral.”

“Oh dear me, the flyboys have their heads so high in the clouds they don’t know the answer to life’s greatest mystery.  Any of the rest of you?  No?  Bullets don’t exist where you come from or something?”  Kirk, Shepard, and Cain shook their heads to the negative.

“.50 cal.”  Master Chief added his input.  Saul whistled.  

“Jesus Christ.  Although,” Saul walked up and compared his height to the Chief’s, “if anyone can handle a .50 calibre handgun on the regular, it would be the two meter guy made entirely of muscle.”  

“Wonderful.  Now that we have that out of the way, onwards!” exclaimed Drake.  The rest of the Scoundrels followed, threading their way out of the hangar and through the winding grey passages of the starship.  Most were neat, clean, and paneled with easily cleanable grey metal, although one particular passageway they crossed was under repair, the panelling ripped away to expose a myriad of interconnecting pipes and wires.  A mixed group of aliens and humans, all wearing grey jumpsuits, were hard at work, fiddling with various tangles of sparking wires.  A short woman jumped from atop a ladder where she had been perched, examining the ceiling, and offered Drake a vague salute.  

“We’re almost done, Captain.  Wiring in this sector should be back up in no time.”  She seemed to notice the group following him for the first time, and gave them a cheery wave.  “Tor Herald.  In charge of...well...nothing in particular.  We,” this was accompanied by a wave encompassing the various workers, “are unofficially known throughout the ship as the ne’re-doers.  Unspecialized specialists, jacks of all trades, masters of none, we’re the crew that keeps the Apocalypse running.  This ain’t a military vessel, so we’re just on as regular crew members.  Nothing to do with most of the money and explosions that seem to follow the Captain around.”  One of the wires in the background started to spark alarmingly.  “Ah, shit.  Love to talk, got to fix this.”  She ran to the problem, an odd-shaped tool in hand.  

“Best keep going, then,” said Drake.  He gave the group a ‘follow me’ motion, and led them deeper through the halls.  “I get crew members from all over the place.  Most of the armsmen and specialists are ex-military, but the crew...I have from all over the place.  Which I said before.  Don’t really know how else to put it.  Got crew members from Earth, Vorketh, Aequalitas, Narcan, Delstrovic, and everywhere in between.  Now,” he turned and gestured to a section of more pleasant looking and open hallways, “as your esteemed colleague Jack Cooper can attest, these are the crew quarters.  They are located throughout the ship, so vital personnel can sleep next to their stations, but the bulk of them are in this area.”  He led them past the crew quarters to a pair of large sliding glass doors.  “And this is what we call the weapons room.  All our personal weapons are created, reparied, and tested here.”  It was a brightly lit room covered in stark white plastic, but what drew everyone’s attention were it’s two occupants, who, although fiddling with various bits and pieces, seemed to be in the middle of a fierce argument.  

“You see, the problem with your theory is, at the very heart of the matter, you’ve got it wrong.  The purpose of a government is to help its people by any means it finds necessary,” said a short, lean, black-haired man in the midst of inserting a new power core into a plasma gun.  

“No, the purpose of a government is to protect its people’s rights and protect them from foriegn invasion.  Otherwise, it should leave them alone,” replied a muscular, brown-haired man of medium height as he tightened the bolts on a massive machine gun.  

“Ah, but the thing is, the government can help people.  And at the basic level, why would you not help people?  You’re a Christian, and it is at the core of your philosophy to help others,” countered the black-haired man.    

“Individually.  It is our duty to individually help other people.  You’re a student of history, and you know what happens.  If the government helps people in the way you’re suggesting, then it gains control over them, and thus should it turn bad, the common people are helpless.”  The Scoundrels filed into the room behind Drake as the two argued, apparently oblivious to their presence.  

“The core problem with you is that you’re just an ignorant, uneducated farm boy who’s clinging to a dying philosophy,” sneered the black-haired man.  

“And you are a stuck up city student who has absolutely no idea how the real world works,” shot back the brown-haired man with a vengeance.  

“You’re a stupid moron who follows people who will plunge the world into despotism.”  At this, the brown-haired man threw down his wrench and cracked his knuckles.  

“I’d be very, very, careful if I were you,” he warned.  The tension in the air was almost like a physical being.  Several of the Scoundrels standing behind Drake tugged on their collars as if to escape from an oppressive heat.  Kirk stepped forward as if to mediate, but Drake held out a hand to forestall him.  

“Or what?  What are you going to do?” replied the black haired man snidely.

“This.”  And before anyone could react, the brown haired man stepped forward, wrapped his arms around the shorter man, and pulled him close into a passionate kiss.  They broke apart, and upon seeing the shocked faces of their various watchers, both started howling with laughter.  

“Oh, you should have seen your faces,” said the taller of the pair in between wheezes.  The other man was clutching his midsection and had tears streaming down his face.  He made some sort of strangled gasping noise and grabbed the edge of a counter for support.  

“We got ‘em!”  He broke down into hysterics again.  “We got you!”  Drake merely rolled his eyes.  

“Everyone, meet Mark,” he nodded towards the brown haired man, “and Oliver,” this was accompanied by a wave to the black haired man, “Danis-Holden, two of my three weapons specialists.”  The two, still trying not to laugh, stood up straighter and nodded as they were introduced.  Noting the still bemused faces of the Scoundrels, Drake sighed.  “So, you guys want to tell them who you are, where you’re from, why you’re with me and what was going on here?”  

“Sure!” replied Mark cheerfully.  “So, I was born on Enlalda, a colony world on the edge of Federal Space.  It’s an agrarian planet, and most people there moved from the center of Federal space because of religious persecution.  Like ninety-ish percent of the population are old school Evangelical Christian conservatives.  I was born and raised on a farm; grew up as a...well, old school Evangelical Christian conservative.  Always liked to tinker with things, got really good at repairing vehicles and the various guns you’ll find all farmers have on colony worlds.  But, I always thought there was more to life than just farming.  I wanted adventure.  I wanted to do something with my life.  So, one day a mercenary starship shows up,” he paused his narrative for a moment and looked queringly at Drake, “wasn’t that the Helidon job?”  Drake rubbed his forehead.

“Oh.  Yeah, it was.  Now that was a weird operation.  But I digress.  Please continue.”

“Yep.  So, as I was saying, the Captain here showed up near where I was.  I heard he was looking for a weapons specialist, and I had some experience in that area, so I decided to offer my services, and you accepted, and I joined the crew.  And that’s where I met this idiot.”  He gestured at Oliver.

“Damn straight.  But before we get into that, I have to tell you my story,” replied Oliver.  “I was born on Tyvander.  Metropolitan planet near the center of Federal space.  I grew up in a middle class family near one of the bigger cities, Menvander.  Like a lot of people, I went to college there: majored in political science, minored in specialized engineering.  Unlike some planets, Tyvander isn't super rich or famous, and there is no specialized educational infrastructure there, so if you want to go to college, you pay for it.  As it turns out, being a political science major does not pay the bills, so when the Apocalypse showed up looking for a weapon’s specialist, which I was qualified for because of my technical skills and engineering expertise.  So I joined up, and my debts and old, boring life didn’t follow.  The University of Menvander is not going to hunt you down if you declare bankruptcy and go galavanting across the galaxy with a group of mercenaries,” he finished.

“I’ll pick it up from here,” said Mark.  “How shall I put this…” he stopped to consider for a moment.  “Oliver was already aboard as a weapons specialist when I got here.  We worked together, got to know each other, and, as it turns out, the phrase ‘opposites attract’ is a very true one.  I always had the feeling that I was, well...gay, but, considering where I grew up, I never told anyone.  Didn’t really bother me.  I was perfectly fine doing what I was doing, and never saw anyone who peaked my interest.  ‘Till I met him, of course.”

“I’ve always been a hardcore liberal, been gay, and known I was gay.  Got here, met him, got married,” said Oliver.

“Wait, how did that work?” interrupted Shepard.  “You guys are all mercenaries who don’t really have legal residence anywhere, so…”

“Ah, yes.  We had a ceremony on the ship.  Was one hell of a party, actually,” replied Drake.  “Legally though…” he pursed his lips in thought.  “We’re all registered as Guild citizens for legal and infiltration purposes, so that might count...but for the most part, no legal or religious ceremony.  Doesn’t really matter though, all things considered,” he said with a shrug.

“Yep.  So now we spend all day repairing and creating weapons while bickering about politics,” interjected Oliver.  “It’s fun, actually.  Still don’t know why you support that outdated philosophy and religion when it doesn’t allow for homosexuality.  Which, you are.”

“Just because one part of a philosophy is wrong, doesn’t mean all parts of it are wrong.  Plus, you’re a hardcore liberal who supports the right to bear arms.  Like, all forms of weapons,” replied Mark.

“Eh, good point.  Goes with the job, I guess.”  They grinned at each other.

“Deviant freaks?

“Deviant freaks!”

“Goddamn right?”

“Goddamn right!”  They gave each other high fives then went back to their work.  Drake sighed.  

“Okay.  Let’s continue.”  They passed through the weapons room and into more of the winding grey hallways.  Drake spoke up as he walked.  “I should have probably told you, but everyone on this ship, myself included, is kind of nuts.  You see, being a mercenary means you kill people for money.  It does not attract the most...uh...stable of individuals.  Stable people stay near where they were born and go to college, or to some other form of school, or join the military.  Stable people do not go running around the galaxy and get into all sorts of weird things with me.”  He turned back to the Scoundrels and suddenly grinned.  “And by that logic, none of you are stable!  Welcome to the club!”  He turned another corner and walked into an enclosed room covered with constricting panels of all sorts of strange dials, knobs, and buttons.  The area was lit by yellow bulbs enclosed in metal cages, and the floor itself was made of metal grating, allowing one to see a series of tunnels underneath it.  The entire room was pervaded by a low, incessant humming noise.  “Now, this is the engine room.  It’s a lot bigger than it looks, but we need all the panels to keep the reactor functional, so it seems rather enclosed.  The engineers should be somewhere around here.”  He sighed again and gave a whistle.  “Oi!  Where are all of you guys?”  Without warning, a grey-jumpsuited woman slid from a small rectangular access hatch beneath one of the larger panels.  

“Right here, sir!  Fixing the 5130’s.”  She had a round, cheerful face framed with wispy brown hair.  She grinned up at the Scoundrels.  “Well, well, well.  Looks like we have visitors, everyone!”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said a muffled, echoey voice that seemed to emanate from the ceiling.  “I would come down to introduce myself, but I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Visiters?”  A blond haired man poked his head from behind another panel.  “Pleasure to meet you.  Engineer First Class Boweman, at your service.”

“Engineer Baily,” said the woman, who had at this point gone back into the hatch.

“Engineer Khatri,” came the muffled voice.  

“K’rik Vhle’krik,” said someone else.  A large, brown insectoid alien turned the corner.  It looked like a cross between a centipede and a lobster, and stood on six hind legs, with eight more waving in the air in front of it.  Its back was protected by a large brown exoskeleton, and its eyes were mounted on two stalks on its head.  Cain tensed, his hand going to his sword.  Drake noticed the movement, but said nothing of it and instead made introductions.  

“Scoundrels, my engineering crew.  Engineering crew, the Scoundrels.”  He turned and addressed the ceiling.  “Are you busy at the moment?”

“A bit,” the alien replied in an odd, unnaturally exaggerated American accent.  “We’re trying to reroute the cooling systems of the 5130’s.”  

“Well then, I shall leave you to it,” said Drake in response.  “Moving on.”  The group walked through the engine room and through another hallway beyond.  “I would introduce everyone, but the cooling systems are very important in making sure everything goes un-exploded.”  

They passed into a large room covered with science equipment and what looked like the shell of a large bomb sitting in the middle of the room.  A woman with frazzled brown hair, wearing a welder’s face mask and a leather apron and gloves was standing over a strange device, pouring a red liquid into a stainless steel beaker.  She finished what she was doing, flipped up the mask and smiled at the newcomers.  

“Jennifer Muelka.  Ordnance and explosives expert.”  

“The remaining third of my weapons specialists,” interjected Drake.  “Brilliant at all forms of making things go boom.  A little too brilliant sometimes.”  She smiled sheepishly.  

“I do try my best to be careful.”

“So, I’m interested.  Why are you here?” asked Shepard.

“Oh that’s easy,” she replied with a laugh.  “No one else will let me do what I do here.  I create all sorts of nasty things.  Plasma, napalm...nukes, on occasion.”

“You...you, a mercenary, have nukes on this ship?” asked Vir.

“Yes.  No one’s complained, because if I do use them, I use them correctly.  I am very proud to say that the number of innocent civilians we have killed with nuclear weapons remains zero.”  

“That’s...kinda reassuring?” 

“Hey, if you’re hiring me, you get the best of the best,” said Drake.  Leaving Muelka to her work, they moved on.  THey walked through one long, spacious, and brightly-lit hallway before they reached a gleaming set of double doors.  “Now this is the bridge.  It’s located at the center of the ship to prevent anyone from targeting and destroying it.”  The doors slid open, revealing a large, spacious room lined with all sorts of computers.  The area seemed to be further divided into subsections, each with a semi-circular area accompanied with a chair.  Large windows adorned the entire length of the bridge, and upon noticing this, Kirk frowned.  

“You said we were at the center of the ship.  So what are those ‘windows’?”

“Computer screens, showing the space surrounding the ship.  Wouldn’t be a proper bridge if you couldn’t see outside, would it?”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

“Now then.”  Drake rubbed his hands together.  “I would like to introduce you to the two most important people on the ship.  Sarah Ordelphine and Eric Richter.”  He gestured to a lithe woman of medium height with short cut black hair and a man wearing a grey jumpsuit.  He too was of medium height, and his hair was brown, straight and cut short to the scalp.  A large scar ran across his forehead, the relic of some forgotten fight.  They both nodded curtly at the Scoundrels.  “Ordelphine is my chief navigator and pilots the ship, and Richter is my second in command.  So, why did you guys join with me?”

“I was and am the best capital ship pilot in the galaxy.  The Federal Navy and all of the corporations I was with before didn’t recognize that.  You did and still do, Captain,” replied Ordelphine.

“Damn right.  You’d think we were in a fighter, with some of the maneuvers you can do.  And you, Richter?”

“I didn’t have anything to do at the time.  Joined you.  Never had a reason to look back.”

“Fair enough.”  Drake spun around the room with a theatrical gesture.  “And so, the grand tour of the Apocalypse.  Met some new and interesting people.  I hope you enjoyed it.”

Hope you liked it.  The scene with Mark and Oliver might have been a little awkward or weird, but I am firmly of the opinion that most people are trying their best, and you can still like, love, or get along with them if you disagree politically.  If you have any comments, criticisms, questions, or requests, feel free to contact me.  And remember to sit back and enjoy your day!

[tm87lord]

hii first i love love love your art, 2nd may i ask how you picked up anatomy? ive been trying a lot but i cant seem to get it right, any tips?? thank you have a nice day!!! stay safe :)

hellloooo thank you so much for sending me this aaaa!!!! thank you for the support always!!! hope you don’t mind me publishing this since i publish all my non-anon asks that have any tips and tricks in case it helps more people 

also!!!! sorry this took a while to answer, it took a while for me to find the words and the doodles :( again also! this ended up being longer than expected...so i’ll put it under a read more just to avoid cluttering timelines! i’m not the best of teachers, but i really hope it helps! (if not, you can always send another message! i’m always happy to chat!) stay safe and have a great day too!!!!!

so the only ‘formal’ anatomy studies i’ve done (and still use) were from highschool where we learn the standard body proportions using heads, where the elbows rest, where hands rest and so on. the fundamentals so to speak—i won’t go too into this since this only provides the very basics of knowing whether something looks “off” or not (but you can read more (and see visual examples) about this here!).

i think what’s more effectively helped me improve anatomy lately is going out of my comfort zone and trying more dynamic poses? to me, when you try those, the fact that something looks kinda strange is easier to notice (since the mistakes aren’t very subtle), and from there it’s a matter of tweaking things here and there until it looks good enough to you!

at first i did this by of course looking up free poses like stock photos, but after a while i started taking my own reference photos! since it’s my own body, it felt easier to know what should go where to me? of course this still has its problems, namely, i draw a lotta big tall buff (the list goes on) jojo men, and i am but a puny woman next to their big ole anime physiques. but at least when i take photos of myself i can estimate what muscles should be bulked up for the character and adjust accordingly!

of course i can also understand if it might be uncomfortable for some to use their own body as reference, in which case using editorial photoshoots and magazines can also help out with more outlandish posing (to take a page straight outta Araki’s book), and of course you can always ask pals, use those little figurine dolls, or use some posing software (personally i’ve got no grasp of any of those, so posing for myself is the easiest for me!)  i also think simplifying the body into standard shapes helps a lot! i tried to find and doodle on my wip sketches of art i’ve posted that best showcases my process, so i hope these help! i think the most important thing to note is how even the more difficult things like hands and fingers can be simplified into basic shapes that make lining them easier!

(also disclaimer: i really do not know how muscles work, usually i just put something on the page and it looks wonky, i look at my own arm for a bit just to see where a muscle should go, then i simplify it as much as possible into ovals and so on!)

after i’ve done a nicer looking sketch, i usually overlay a quick stick figure so i can see the most bare skeleton almost of my work, just to see if it looks proportionate enough in accordance to the whole basic proportion method i linked earlier! i also flip the canvas, like, a lot. i think it’s easier to spot mistakes like that! i think that’s the gist of how i managed to get better with anatomy since starting my jjba fanart! i think it also helps that the nature of the series includes all this wild posing anyway, so i felt the need to emulate that fun nature in my work! at the end of the day, it’s just lotsa practice and having fun just producing anything, really. i know i said this already but i seriously hoped this help wuugghggh if you made it this far thank you for reading hope you have a great day!!!!

tldr: try dynamic or outlandish poses just for fun! make your own reference photos! simplify shapes! draw stick figures! also flip the canvas to check for mistakes i suppose?

[athina-blaine]

MoMM Chapter 2: The Estate, Part 1 (Preview #2)

(View preview #1 here!)

“Sorry, I just … wanted to say thank you. For– for taking me in.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Martin, by the way. Martin Blackwood.”

The man inclined his head. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Blackwood.”

"Oh– just Martin is fine.”

“Martin, then.”

“Um ... c-can I ask for your name?"

A long moment stretched between them as his host merely stared, expression unreadable. Martin’s breath stilled in his lungs– was he being measured? Found wanting somehow? He’d only asked for his name–

“Jon.”

Martin stiffened, but with a curt billow of his cloak, the man vanished, closing the door behind him.

Jon.

Martin wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. Jon. It was just so … common. Approachable, for such a seemingly unapproachable man.

A distant ringing in his ears had him settling back down against the pillows. That was … not a good sign. Had he really been knocked out all day? Despite being unconscious for eleven hours, though, he didn’t feel very well rested.

Hard to relax, with the worst case scenario waiting for you back in the real world. Barclay would have him begging on his hands and knees if he wanted to continue working in the castle, especially after last night’s disaster. 

Martin dropped his head in his hands. He was as good as sacked.

Distraction. He needed a good distraction. Anything to take his mind off of agonising over this. Thinking about it was pointless, anyway– not like he could fix things confined to a bed.

Lifting his head, he took a moment to peer around the room. It was … honestly stunning. Bigger than the dormitory he shared with three other people back at Barclay’s castle, and the bedsheets were so soft they bordered on sinful. The bed frame and accompanying desk and chair were a rich, expensive mahogany, and the plush pillows sweetly tempted his eyes to slide shut again.

Even Lord Barclay’s accommodations weren’t this opulent. An unexpected twinge of guilt shot through Martin’s chest, as if he were doing something wrong. Stealing comfort that didn’t belong to him.

His eyes were threatening to close when the door opened again. Jon had returned, hands occupied with a silver dinner tray– silver. Bloody hell, even the utensils were silver!

“I apologise for the simplicity of the meal,” Jon said. “It’s been some time since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself.”

Did … was Jon implying that he, the lord of this house, had cooked for Martin? That he regularly cooked for himself? It didn’t bear thinking about– why wouldn’t the kitchen staff be making his meals?

He looked down at the dinner tray; on it was a bowl of boiled vegetables, and next to that, a gently steaming cup of tea. Simple, yes, and yet Martin found himself oddly charmed.

“It looks wonderful,” said Martin, entirely too genuine. Under the attentive eyes of his host, he shovelled a spoonful of turnip and carrot into his mouth and started to chew. He paused.

Jon leaned forward, poised. “How is it?”

Steeling himself, Martin kept chewing, scrambling for a neutral expression. The outside of the vegetables were soggy, but the inside crunched against his molars, sending a shudder down his spine. Underboiled, his mind supplied helpfully.

It was, perhaps, one of the worst meals he’d ever eaten in his life.

“It’s great,” he said, smiling through the curdling of his stomach. Oh, Christ, what a blatant lie; but Jon had made this himself, and Martin was going to die before he willingly insulted a lord to his face.

And– it could've been his imagination, but there was something defensive in the set of Jon's shoulders. Vulnerable, even? Something that kept the truth locked tight in Martin's throat.

Jon released a quiet breath. “That’s … good. I’m glad it’s to your satisfaction.”

Dazed, Martin continued to struggle with his meal as Jon scooped up a bundle of clothes, depositing them on the bed.

“These are for you to wear to bed. You can find something to change into tomorrow in the wardrobe, although please tell if there are any that don’t fit.” He winced. “You’ll have to excuse me if you find anything that’s been chewed through. It’s impossible keeping the moths out this time of year.”

“Tha– thank you?”

“You, ah,” Jon hesitated, before clearing his throat. “You’re welcome to stay here until you’ve made a recovery.” A strange expression passed over his face. “My only stipulation is that you remain in your rooms at night.”

“Oh. Um,” Martin paused to swallow. “S-sure, of course. Is it– can I ask why?”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Martin blanched. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I-i-it’s just, I don’t know …” kind of strange, he wanted to say, but the impatient twist of Jon’s mouth stopped him.

Jon let the silence stretch for a long time. Then he crossed his arms. “I have a dog.”

“A ... dog?”

“Yes. Big, vicious thing. He’s not partial to strangers.”

Oh. Well, that … that made sense. Still odd, though– Barclay had a whole team of hunting dogs, and none of them were allowed to wander the grounds without supervision. They weren’t pets. Maybe this one was, though.

“What’s his name?” Martin asked.

“What?”

“The dog?” Martin held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, it’s just, I love dogs. My neighbors had one when I was a kid. Ol’ Frankie.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed further. “John.”

 “... John.”

“Yes.”

“John the dog?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You named the dog after yourself?”

“I came into possession of the dog after it received its name. And, besides, it’s John that’s spelled with an H.”

“I … see.” Martin didn’t see. “Obviously.” It had not been obvious.

Jon glared, as if daring him to continue. After a moment, he reached into a pocket in the lining of his cloak. “One last thing. I noticed … well, here.” With an oddly stiff motion, he held out a small glass jar full of cream. “For your hands. It would be irresponsible of me as your host to allow them to ulcerate unchecked.”

Startled, Martin glanced down at his hands– they were still covered in blisters from scrubbing last night’s mountain of dishes. In all the chaos, he’d forgotten about them.

“Th-thanks,” he said, accepting the jar.

With a satisfied grunt, Jon stood back. “I’ll let you finish your meal. You can expect me tomorrow morning with breakfast.” One hand on the door, he hesitated, then added in a soft undertone, “Welcome to the estate.”

Jon was gone before Martin could answer. He was alone once again.

Unscrewing the lid of the jar, Martin gave the ointment an investigative sniff– honey and almonds. He scooped out a dollop and rubbed it into the damaged skin of his hands, sighing as it cooled the gentle sting of his blisters. It was astonishing that Jon had noticed at all– Martin would have left them to rot on their own, otherwise.

He finished his dinner, half out of pragmaticism, half because he was sure he’d hurt the feelings of his host if he didn’t. At least the tea was good.

Tray set aside, Martin began unbuttoning his dress shirt. What an unusual sight he must have made, passed out on the ground in formal wear. The clothes Jon had provided were silky against his skin, marred only by the must of disuse– still a luxury, for all intents and purposes, especially for a person with Martin’s background.

It wasn't enough to distract him from the cold knot of dread sitting heavy in his stomach. But  Jon had been right; even if he did know the way, he would never make it back in his current state, especially without Phillipa.

At the very least, things couldn’t get much worse from here.

Martin settled back against the pillows, trying to find solace in that. With so many thoughts racing through his head, it should’ve been impossible to sleep– but the moment he closed his eyes, the rest of the world slipped away.

--

Catch the full chapter on Oct 2nd!

Check out the Monster of Magnus Manor here!

[1zashreena1]

Quarantine- New Ranch Flavor! -5

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess is stranded in NYC with her Murder Panther for the duration of the quarantine. As a high risk patient she has no choice but to isolate as much as possible. Simulated domesticity ensues. Princess texts a running commentary to her bff Lisa.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

No actual smut, nasty ass snack foods, plus size insecurity, unprotected sex, feels are icky, plus size woman+fit man, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings… I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ @symbiont13​ @nicke0115​ @bunnykjm​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @girlpornparadise​ @mandoplease​ @heresathreebee​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ @jetiikad​ @joalsglasses​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ @demoncatstone​ @squidlywiddly87​

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

~~~

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Thursday 11:22am

From Princess

Day 1 and I literally have an ice pack on my pussy and

Hold on he’s not wearing pants again gtg

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Friday 9:49am

From Princess

Video chatting with sister when Diego walks past in the background… shirtless.

She put her phone down (my entire screen was just ceiling) and I could hear her crying. Hung up after 10 min

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Friday 10:14pm

From Princess

He sucks ass at Jenga and its adorable

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Saturday 11:49am

From Princess

I was provided a to-do list for the day.

It's just his name

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Sunday 1:32pm

From Princess

We have sorted every liquid in the penthouse into 2 categories:

Potential Lube

Definitely Not Lube

Except we’re arguing about ranch dressing

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Sunday 2:17pm

From Princess

Update: Ranch went into the Not Lube category because it “smells nasty when it gets warm” This fact was previously unknown to me and I was afraid to ask for more details

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Monday 8:40am

From Princess

Morning announcements include the fact that 8:37 is the earliest he has ever gotten up

I’m worried about losing my job. Diego advises me to apply to Dyson because I “never lose suction”

Am I offended or proud of myself?  It’s not even 9am

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Tuesday 1:12am

From Princess

This is the most weed I have ever consumed in my life (I know, not a high bar) Why is he hanging upside down off the couch making motorboat noises??

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Tuesday 1:14am

From Princess

Ahh. He was composing a poem about my tits

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Tuesday 2:49am

From Princess

The railing up the stairs to the bedroom does not in fact support my weight. Pole dance competition is OFF

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Tuesday 2:57am

From Princess

You know that thing you do with my bras? Where you put it on like a headband and it makes mickey mouse ears?

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Wednesday 11:17am

From Princess

Julio required to give 10 min warning prior to arrival so Diego can take off his pants

Yes you read that right

Freak

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Wednesday 11:19am

From Princess

Yes you do so know who Julio is. Big, round, only wears ivory/eggshell/off white/ThisIsMy 2ndWedding  colored blazers. Jeez Lisa you're not old enough for dementia yet girl

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Wednesday 12:52pm

From Princess

I have played myself. Just ate an entire cheesesteak while being a cockwarmer

Turns out I’m the freak

Julio present and accounted for

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Thursday 9:37am

From Princess

He’s crunching  a bowl of something via spoon. I ask what it is. Crushed cheez-its and mayonnaise. What in the actual fuck this man is a literal monster

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

Edible body paint works on windows. Had to sit on his shoulders but this is the largest ‘FUCK’ I have ever written. Very proud

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Thursday 12:22pm

From Princess

Bottom half of the ‘C’ has transferred onto my ass. But 7 orgasms. Pick your battles

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Thursday 11:47pm

From Princess

Tried a pickled habanero. He’s still face down in the rug crying with laughter. It’s been 10 min dude come on

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Friday 10:12am

From Princess

Me: Why are you so heavy?

Diego: I keep eating you

Me: High five

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Friday 3:17pm

From Princess

He’s trying to “conduct business” via 3 cellphones. Would offer my tablet but I’m too pretty for prison. Gonna take a nap

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Friday 4:41pm

From Princess

Pants are forbidden in the bedroom. We’re just making the rules up as we go I see

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Saturday 9:59am

From Princess

He’s sitting in the corner of the window walls staring dejectedly outside. I hear the tiniest forlorn whisper “THOSE people are outside”

Too cute--must blow---BRB

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Saturday 1:32pm

From Princess

Angry texting. Muttering “No I can’t go outside and no you can’t come in here. Bitch…. No no, delete delete delete”

Me:  Where is your sister anyway? LA?

Him: Very Squinty Eyes

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Saturday 9:22pm

From Princess

My ass is stuck in the kitchen sink. While he was very helpful getting me in here he is of no assistance getting me out.

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Saturday 11:46pm

From Princess

Apparently ‘douchecanoe twatwaffle jerkface’ is the most hilarious insult he has ever heard. My brilliance is unparalleled

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Sunday 5:51am

From Princess

Me: Hey what’s the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?

Him outrageously offended: I’m not answering that!

Him:  ... you first

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Sunday 7:12pm

From Princess

Is it a legit massage if he has to pause in the middle to jack off?

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Monday 11:06am

From Princess

Ordered groceries via Amazon Prime drone delivery. Sitting on the rooftop patio wrapped up together in a ginormous blankie waiting.

Does this count as a date?

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Monday 1:13pm

From Princess

Drone arrived. I lost my shit. Coolest thing ever. He’s frantically ordering more stuff because I haven’t looked this ecstatic since the time he rubbed my feet then went down on me for 2 hrs

Hold up change of plans

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

stubble burn on bottom of feet :-/

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Monday 6:44pm

From Princess

We can both fit in the jacuzzi tub. Almost drowned when his phone rang and we both spazzed out

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Tuesday 10:10am

From Princess

Today’s formal edict: He will only be referring to himself in the 3rd person. I am required to do as told. Should not be this turned on

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Tuesday 11:58am

From Princess

Watching him try to answer calls like this is a level of hilarity I could not have predicted

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Tuesday 1:53pm

From Princess

He gave me a crash course in chem. Still don’t know anything but it was hot as hell

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Tuesday 2:57pm

From Princess

Despite all evidence to the contrary I’m a Good Girl. Did as I was told. Got rewarded. 13 times

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Tuesday 5:33pm

From Princess

Unlocked a tiny piece of tragic backstory*™: He’s never been to a zoo   :-(

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Wednesday 11:24am

From Princess

Julio and Bastian brought 4 pizzas. Currently eating them individually sitting in a giant square in the living room SOCIAL DISTANCING

Like he wasn’t inside me 10 min ago wtf

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Wednesday 11:25am

From Princess

Yes cute driver Bastian. Btw you are barking up the wrong tree girl. His favorite animal is bears lol

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Wednesday 12:39pm

From Princess

Garlic butter: lube or no? Round table discussion happening.

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Wednesday 1:19pm

From Princess

I won in favor of No

Me: slams hands down on table

Me: HAVE YOU EVER HAD A YEAST INFECTION???

All men present:   :-[

                             :-[

                             :-[

~~~

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Wednesday 1:32pm

From Princess

Diego: puts garlic butter cup in the empty box and slides the whole mess off table to the floor without breaking eye contact. My sugar daddy is truly a murder panther

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Wednesday 3:49pm

From Princess

Flipping channels (he only has 5000) when he comes downstairs from the bedroom wearing Ginormous Blankie as cape.

Him: Can we do the thing again?

Me: Gotta be way more specific babe

Him: Flaps blankie like wings and gives me puppy dog eyes

Him: You know. Thing. On the roof. ...please?

Did

Did he just ask me to cuddle???

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Wednesday 5:58pm

From Princess

Can confirm roof cuddles.  He fell asleep with his face mashed into my neck-shoulder after watching sunset. Every time I move he whimpers and squeezes tighter. I don't know what is happening but it kinda hurts in my chest

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Wednesday 9:12pm

From Princess

Me: You know those girls you send away when I come up? There's one that sorta begrudgingly likes me?

Him, stuffing a 2nd Oreo into his mouth(there's already a whole 1 in there)

Him: Frahnthessga?

Me: Yeah! Can I fuck her?

….I should worry about my job again pretty sure Murder Panther Sugar Daddy is dead

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Wednesday 10:48pm

From Princess

We splintered the plexiglass-divider-shower-wall thingy. His solution was to just hold all 215lbs of me up in the air and finish. I have no words

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Thursday 4:12am

From Princess

I can hear him on the phone downstairs listing names. I don't know these people. I'm going in the bathroom to run water so I can't hear anything else

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Thursday 9:02am

From Princess

I slept thru a breakfast meeting. There's a laptop  and a box of 1 doz Boston cream donuts labeled PRINCESS on the bar counter. He's watching news with Julio + Bastian on the couch. Odd but ok I got fave donuts so whatevs

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Thursday 9:17am

From Princess

On 3rd donut when I catch him staring. Can only see from eyes up bc he's peering at me over back of the couch. Have inadvertently activated Horny Murder Panther mode via accidental slutty licking of cream filling. 

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Thursday 11:40am

From Princess

Me: I don't like avocado

Diego: bitch what the fuck 

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

He asked what the deal was with white people and meatloaf. I requested clarification on food or music. He's confused it's fucking adorable

BUT NOW I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE ENTIRE GENRE OF CLASSIC ROCK

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Thursday 2:14pm

From Princess

I'm making a meatloaf for dinner. Also brownies. TV is still on???

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Thursday 4:24pm

From Princess

Found a big round can of guava paste in the back of the fridge. He's spoon feeding it to me while watching me make meatloaf

Diego: I did not realize you were so… domesticated

Me, no brain to mouth filter: Yeah well gettin dicked down 3x a day will do that to a girl

Please send hitman asap 

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Thursday 5:10pm

From Princess

He just turned TV off. Local news was listing all major crimes in NYC today. Last story was 6 bodies found inside meat plant freezer, execution style kills with "on-site" equipment. When I whisper Dafuq??  he distractedly mutters 'captive bolt pistol'  

He's texting again

~~~

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Thursday 5:39pm

From Princess

I kinda wanna come home now

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Thursday 7:48pm

From Princess

I have converted another person to meatloaf lover (food not music)

On 3rd brownie when he declares: I am never letting you leave again. Mine now

Look up from rolling my eyes to receive Super Intense I Can See Into Your Soul Diego Stare

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Thursday 9:50pm

From Princess

He's looking for a scary movie via voice command on remote. Other hand is on my foot. I can't even see my foot. What is the actual purpose of hands that big?? What is the evolutionary goal to this endgame? ?? Why am I wet just thinking about a    h a n d    ?????

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Friday 12:34am

From Princess

Con: This asshole is delighted to learn that I don't like scary movies

Pro: Hiding my face in his chest means I fucking feel the rumble when he laughs at me. I think I'm developing a heart condition. Hurts again.

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Friday 1:40am

From Princess

He's rubbing his face all over my stomach. I don't like this. Sir why. Please it's literally the least attractive part of me

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Friday 2:11am

From Princess

He likes it…? I don't see. How does. But it's.

No

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Friday 3:47am

From Princess

He's asleep on my stomach after spending 40 min declaring his love for belly

I'm crying and I can't stop. My whole chest hurts. What is this. Is this the most long game prank ever. There's no way he's for real. I'm afraid. Do you think I should try to escape?? Please you know I'm not easily frightened but I just. Please text back I need my BFF

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Friday 7:18am

From Princess

Woke up in bed alone and naked. Gonna grab a shirt and handle this. I can't just ignore it. This is probably a bad idea but I can't just let it go. If you don't hear back from me by noon call my parents. I love you

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Friday 11:38am

From Princess

Halfway down the stairs 3 dudes I don't know come out of the office, Diego and Julio follow. They take 1 look at me and launch into laughter and some rude fucking spanish. I'm rusty but I know fucking "fat bitch" tyvm. Diego picks this mf up by the throat and throws him into the elevator. Drags the other 2 in and... no one has come back since

Been locked in the bathroom. I'm afraid to hear anything

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Friday 1:48pm

From Princess

Relocated to closet earlier. Reading. I'm 2 chapters in and I don't even remember the title. Gonna take an ativan. Hands are shaking

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Friday 2:27pm

From Princess

You know what? I don't even care. Like as long as it's never directed at me I just don't care.

It's too late I'm in too deep. I don't know if I can even come home after this. I'm not who everyone thinks I am. I don't know who I am. I'm turning the phone off now I'm sorry but I just need everything to stop for a while

~~~

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Friday 7:48pm

From Princess

I'm ok, sorry for the dramatics. Woke up still in the closet corner but under Ginormous Blankie and can hear shower running. Decide it's time to put my big girl panties on and march in there. No I did not learn from the last time. Standby

~~~

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Friday 9:22pm

From Princess

We're good.

~~~

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Friday 11:49pm

From Princess

Ok. Marched into bathroom, launched into speech: I'm sorry but I did not know anyone was here. You have to leave me a note or something. Please tell me I did not ruin anything

Him, still in shower: Get your ass in here.

It was a literal growl

~~~

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Friday 11:50pm

From Princess

Apparently that guy had been fucking up small time and Diego was waiting for him to fuck up big time. I will never see all 3 of them again (No do not ask)Yes it was frustrating but not mad at me. Ok a little because his sister hired that guy and now he has to explain the dude's ...disappearance. Without mentioning me. No one can know about me I am a "liability"

Um ouch..? I think?? Chest pain again

~~~

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Friday 11:51pm

From Princess

He's been asleep, I'm just staring at the ceiling. Demanded I let him prove that he would never put hands on me that I don't want. I thought he was gonna cry. I did start crying but said yes. Not gentle per se, but definitely ...emotional? Like soft sex. Slow soft sex but with emotions?? I'm lost

~~~

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Friday 11:54pm

From Princess

Please tell me no. Talk me out of this. Tell me I'm fucknuts and I need to just come home and be reasonable and sensible. You know when you stand at a ledge and a little voice tells you Just jump. Do it. Go

Do I want all in? Can I do this? I should not do this. I should not care about him. Especially like this. I just. When I'm not here this is all I think about. No one else makes me feel this way

~~~

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Friday 11:56pm

From Princess

I'm hysterical right? This will go away if I just sleep. I can't stop looking at him. Touching his face, hair. Ever since the Kitchen Blowup (after the first fight??is it a fight if you're not technically in a relationship?) he's been different. Careful?? Like he really listened to me and heard. I can see him trying. Like reining in his knee jerk reactions and stopping to think before he says stuff to me. What am I supposed to do?

~~~

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Friday 11:59pm

From Princess

I want to trust him. I want to be spoiled and fucked senseless and all the giggles and private planes and shopping sprees and sleeping in til noon. But what about the other side? Constantly looking over my shoulder? Worrying that he might not come home from whatever the fuck he's out doing? The other actual supermodel hot women??? I'm not naive.

~~~

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Saturday 12:10am

From Princess

I just need to turn this off. Shut it down. Cut off emotions and just fuck. I can't do this and I can't have him for keeps. So it's time to be realistic. After this shitty quarantine ends I'll take whatever cash he wants to give me and go home. I can move if I have to. It's not hard to change your name these days. This whole nightmare will be the hilarious rumors in my future nursing home

~~~

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Saturday 4:44am

From Princess

Got up at like 350 for the bathroom. When I crawled back into bed he yanked me backwards to be smashed into/under him. Buried face into my hair and ordered:

Stop

Leaving

~~~

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Saturday 9:10am

From Princess

Woke up alone. Gathered shirt. Did surveillance from top of stairs. Music blasting. Bastian and Diego are working out. I had to sit down for a while

~~~

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Saturday 9:40am

From Princess

Finally made it down the stairs. Eating donuts while watching live action porn

~~~

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Saturday 10:27am

From Princess

Show's over. Diego announces he is going to shower with a wink. I am staying on this barstool with my donuts. I am determined

~~~

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Saturday 10:38am

From Princess

Sharing donuts with Bastian. He is staring at me

Me: ...wut?

Bastian: You know I haven't driven Franchesca anywhere in 4 months

I don't know how long I've been sitting here staring at this half eaten donut but Bastian is gone

Shower still running

~~~

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Saturday 1:36pm

From Princess

Slut level 7: Shower blowjob

Realized I have to wash my hair now. He demands to do it??

Diego: How much fucking conditioner is this going to take?

Me drooling blissfully: Uhhh... please not that word right now

...I literally heard Horny Murder Panther transition happen.

He did not touch anything but my head. Came via voice command. How the fuck

~~~

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Saturday 1:39pm

From Princess

Then it was Round 2 still dripping wet in the bed. No idea how he recovered that fast not looking gift horse in the mouth.  Haha   Horse

Also slow soft again? Does this mean something?? I feel like I'm missing some key piece of info. Never had a dude like kiss all over my face and stroke my hair. What is this gentle?? Don't like the whole looking into my eyes thing

~~~

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Saturday 3:02pm

From Princess

Received an assignment. Was trying to budget for next month (on my new laptop! Whole Microsoft office package!! SPREADSHEETS!!!)

Instructed to help fix what I fucked up…?

It's resumes. He wants me to look at resumes.   Um

~~~

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Saturday 4:12pm

From Princess

We traded laptops. I picked 3 resumes for 'warehouse labor'  This is fucking surreal

Got my laptop back and… all the internet tabs were closed?? I was paying all my bills dude wtf. His phone rings but before he walks off tells me the title will be mailed to me. ?????

~~~

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Saturday 4:47pm

From Princess

He's still in the office on the phone. I'm in the closet in shock. He paid my loans. He paid my Loans. He Paid My Fucking Loans OFF

CAR

STUDENT LOANS

$$$$$   30,000  $$$$$

THIRTY GRAND

~~~

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Saturday 4:52pm

From Princess

No you can't have him if I don't want him!! Fuck you

~~~

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Saturday 5:32pm

From Princess

Bastian came back, left a big box on the counter, said "This is for you honey" and left again. Diego still in the office.

...should I open it or wait for him to come out??

~~~

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Saturday 5:36pm

From Princess

Fuck it. I'm opening this shit

~~~

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Saturday 5:42pm

From Princess

It's a very large Brahmin bag.

Holy fuck its gorgeous 

~~~

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Saturday 5:47pm

From Princess

You know what? You Know What?

IT'S KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0 TIME

~~

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Sunday 8:42am

From Princess

I think we're ok? I actually uh, accidentally recorded um… everything-ish. And I might send it to you later. But right now things are kinda wobbly and I just wanna enjoy everything while I can. I'll check back in later. We're going to bed now

~~

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Sunday 1:58pm

From Princess

Woke up to 1 gigantic hand stroking down my back. 2nd hand stuffed up my pussy to the knuckle. Villain voice directly into left ear. Memory hazy after that

~~

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Sunday 3:01pm

From Princess

Do Oreos in bed at 3pm count as breakfast? My hips hurt

~~

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Sunday 6:40pm

From Princess

Ok we all know I'm very much A Freak. Trysexual if you will. Only way to know you don't like it is to try it right? So anal. Never really worked. Great in theory really unpleasant in practice.

Turns out others were trying to insert the wrong appendage. Related: I fucking love beards

e v e r y w h e r e

~~

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Sunday 10:40pm

From Princess

Yes I know you wanna know about KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0, someday I'll tell you about v.1. It's complicated. There are feels. I can't take the vague, wishy washy, up in the air status. So it went kinda like this

Me: You want to "keep" me? Wtf does that even mean?? And how, via purchasing me??? Don't get me wrong, I like being spoiled. I'm not an idiot. But you don't even know me

He looked like I stabbed him. It was horrible

~~

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Sunday 10:42pm

From Princess

So I laid it all out: I lived in my car for a while in my 20s. Escaped an abusive ex after 8 yrs. Survived cancer at 26. Did 2 rounds of trade school just to be scraping by at like $15 an hour. That you just paid off like it was nothing. You try to protect me from you and your life. But you have no idea what I've already survived.

So here's the deal: You wanna keep me?? Then I get to keep you.

But it's everything. If I can't have everything then I don't want anything. And if it can't be ONLY me then I gotta go. I'm not a back up plan or a convenience.

~~

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Sunday 10:50pm

From Princess

At this point I'm scream-crying, gesticulating like I'm hysterical. He's collapsed on the floor at my feet looking like I just killed his dog. Only makes me worse. I'm demanding an answer right fucking now. This is a disaster.

~~

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Sunday 10:54pm

From Princess

He starts yelling about how he can't keep me if I'm dead. This isn't a fucking game and I'm just like Do I look like I'm playing right now?!?

Lisa, he was crying. Just kept repeating "She's right. She's fucking right. That bitch is right."

Head in his hands sobbing.

I couldn't. 

~~

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Sunday 10:59pm

From Princess

So I got down on my knees in front of him and reached for his hands. Just like the first blowup. I was terrified because he's obviously not in control and like I don't know the things he does but I Know. And the PTSD from ex… but I finally got him to look at me and asked him to just Tell Me.

And he did.

~~~

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Monday 12:04am

From Princess

If you had told me that night in the club that any of this would happen. That this man was capable of everything these past 10 months have brought. I would've taken you to the hospital myself.

He collapsed on me and was just begging me "Don't go don't go. Please stay. Stay just for now. Please. No one else no one."  I have a lot to consider. Probably gonna be quiet for a few days. I'll text you when things calm down. He's asleep on my chest right now

~~~

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Monday 12:10am

From Princess

I mean 10 months...how many weekends have I been up here? 12? 16? And only twice did I reach out first and ask. I have stuff here. You saw the closet section. Every time I arrive there's coke and ketchup in the fridge. My face wash and toothbrush and a huge bottle of gel in the bathroom. Last time here he gave me the safe combo???

~~~

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Monday 12:14am

From Princess

YES THE SODA JFC

I mean, I've never seen ...other… in the fridge. I don't think it needs to be refrigerated???

I Don't Know Okay

~~~

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Monday 6:40am

From Princess

Woke up around 5 and he was just staring at me from like 2 inches away. He left once he realized I was awake. I didn't follow. He still hasn't come back to bed yet. Should I go find him?

~~~

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Monday 11:38am

From Princess

Found him on the couch. Coffee table covered in vast array of firearms. Did not realize there were so many in this penthouse. Little uncomfortable. But I'm a fast learner with good mechanical skills so now I can do gun stuff. Please don't ask me about it

~~~

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Monday 11:41am

From Princess

Ok yesss. We had the stupid movie cliche moment of big tough guy stands behind damsel to teach some physical skill. Gawd.

...yeah doing it feels better than watching. You happy now???

~~~

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

Mood swing. He declared vengeance on behalf of his closet. I have worn too many shirts. This cannot continue. ????? Stay tuned

~~~

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Monday 2:59pm

From Princess

This man runs the largest distribution enterprise in the western hemisphere.

Currently stuck in one of my $6 tank tops from Target. 

~~~

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Monday 4:17pm

From Princess

I'm out a tank top. And a thong. Go ahead and just think about that

...But I'm still wearing one of his shirts :-D

~~~

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Monday 5:48pm

From Princess

Instead of admitting defeat he decided to forcibly remove the shirt from me. Since I have to be difficult, I ran. If this place wasn't soundproof there would be so many police here.

What level of fucked up is it to enjoy screaming No!, while struggling, not less than 3 sec prior to orgasm??

~~~

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Monday 5:52pm

From Princess

The scale only goes to 10. You don't gotta be a bitch. Damn

~~~

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Monday 8:17pm

From Princess

14 days will be up this Thursday. But they're talking about extending it, really bad here. I'm scared. Gonna try a drink, maybe ativan because I'm starting to freak out.

~~~

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Monday 9:57pm

From Princess

Watching the news and I just sorta came unglued.  Diego not really a soft/gentle guy (obvs) but once I got thru a blubber-cry explanation of immuno-compromised and cancer treatment I got full lap cuddles. I want this every time I'm upset. Warm and solid and big hands and soft nuzzles and scratchy velvet cheek kisses. Feel so tiny and safe

~~~

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Monday 11:40pm

From Princess

Think I'm fukced up. Everything feels good. Petting all the things

~~~

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Monday 11:44pm

From Princess

I'm fiiiiine. One drink. Once ativan. Thats it

~~~

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Monday 11:49pm

From Princess

Omgod ill be fine it's good donot call me

~~~

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Monday 11:55pm

From Princess

What are fiddlesticks? Like the worrd not a instrument accessory?why do we say that

~~~

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Tuesday 7:42am

From Princess

Holy shit I slept so good. I looked back thru the texts. Wtf was I doing?? I don't remember any of this

~~~

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Tuesday 8:32am

From Princess

He's giving me that all teeth smile. I'm very suspicious. And surprisingly not horny?? Am I dying?

~~~

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Tuesday 9:46am

From Princess

Have been informed that I was very adorable last night. I'm afraid to learn his definition of adorable

~~~

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Tuesday 10:12am

From Princess

Omg he has 3 hours of video

~~~

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Tuesday 11:17am

From Princess

I spent 45 min yelling about Pluto planet status being revoked and the kilogram definition being forever altered. He was very invested in the 2nd part. Legit academic discussion

~~~

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Tuesday 11:49am

From Princess

Next part: I decided to make a fried egg sandwich. He started recording like a cooking show. I almost lit my hair on fire.

~~~

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Tuesday 11:57am

From Princess

Oh I see where everything went wrong. I had 1 drink and 1 ativan. Then I finished his drink. Then I drank his replacement. Why tf did he let me do that??

"You were so cute! How could I say no to this face, bonita?"

...I will remember that

~~~

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Tuesday 12:13pm

From Princess

Apparently we exchanged playlists. This is not good

~~~

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Tuesday 12:28pm

From Princess

Omg I revealed the Murder Panther Sugar Daddy title. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit

~~~

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Tuesday 12:42pm

From Princess

I spent 40 min petting him all over while listing everything I liked and why. He is going to be insufferable for forever after this

~~~

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Tuesday 1:22pm

From Princess

Lisa. Lisa. Holy shit. He said we made a porno. I laughed. He fucking narrated an opening to it. I am dying  I am going to die   I am dead

Him, offscreen: Diego and Bicki make a Porno!

Me, onscreen, twerking on the bed in lace bra

Me: eeeeeeeeeeeeeee ASS AND TITTIES!!!

Diego pops into shot, giggling: Pretty Princess Pussy!!

The whole thing just dissolved into shaky blur and us laughing hysterically

~~~

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Tuesday 1:24pm

From Princess

No I'm not sharing it. What is wrONG WITH YOU??????

~~~

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Tuesday 3:44pm

From Princess

It… did not go the way I thought it would. And apparently he had not watched it either because we were both surprised.

That. Was not sex. Seeing the soft slow with emotions from the outside was pretty damning.

That was lovemaking

~~~

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Tuesday 6:32pm

From Princess

I'm locked in the bathroom. Everything is fucked.

I just… I just hid my face and said "I want to go home." Like a fucking coward hiding behind my hair, I took off upstairs and now I'm here. It's been a long time. I'm still alone

~~~

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Tuesday 6:39pm

From Princess

No shit Sherlock, I know I have intimacy issues.

Men don't love me. Sure I'm fun to fuck for a while. But they don't take a poor fat girl home. Come on, you've seen it firsthand. Clearly, since here I still am by myself

~~~

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Tuesday 6:42pm

From Princess

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't belong here. Guess I'll just ride out the last 2 days then come home

~~~

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Tuesday 6:45pm

From Princess

I think Julio is here. I can hear their voices but can't make out the words

Oh no his sister is here. They're yelling in Spanish, I can't catch any of it

~~~

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Tuesday 10:14pm

From Princess

They screamed for a while, then she finally left. Been silent ever since. I don't know if he's still here

~~~

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Tuesday 10:40pm

From Princess

He's definitely still here. There's a tantrum going on

~~~

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Wednesday 12:32am

From Princess

Fell asleep in the closet corner again. Except when I woke up he was wedged in there with me

Me: … um

Diego: I think I see why you do this

Then he went to sleep on me

~~~

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Wednesday 5:48am

From Princess

Have been talking since 3. Still in the closet.

~~~

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Wednesday 7:10am

From Princess

I'm coming home when this is over. I need some time and space to think. 

~~~

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Wednesday 7:12am

From Princess

Is that even the right term? Do you 'break up' with a sugar daddy???? 

~~~

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Wednesday 7:13am

From Princess

NO I WANT TO KEEP HIM

BITCH I WILL STAB YOU

~~~

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Wednesday 7:16am

From Princess

Gonna shower and go to bed. You mention that last text and I literally will stab you. BFF or not

~~~

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Wednesday 4:40pm

From Princess

Just listened to an hour of descriptions of Mexico.

I am… tempted

~~~

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Wednesday 6:54pm

From Princess

I'm flying home Friday, they just lifted the travel ban here.

~~~

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Wednesday 6:59pm

From Princess

No, no one is happy here. We're both clingy disasters today

~~~

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Wednesday 7:17pm

From Princess

Went downstairs. It's a war zone. We came back upstairs 

~~~

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Thursday 6:19am

From Princess

Couldn't sleep so I'm packing. Diego is watching me from the bed with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes in existence.

Effect kinda ruined because I can see his bare ass

~~~

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Thursday 6:22am

From Princess

Why would you ask me that? You know he's an exhibitionist 

~~~

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Thursday 6:23am

From Princess

I can't decide if you're the Best or the Worst BFF ever. Gawd

~~~

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Thursday 6:25am

From Princess

...IMAGE LOADING…

~~~

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Thursday 6:27am

From Princess

Yeah. You see my dilemma now???

~~~

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Thursday 6:28am

From Princess

Yes I bite it! What is wrong with you today???

~~~

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Thursday 6:43pm

From Princess

He spent entire day attached to me. I..??? What do I do with a clingy cartel boss drug lord?? Its too much

~~~

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Friday 8:52am

From Princess

I'm on the plane. He rode here with me. Looked so… broken. Feel like a monster. But I'm scared

~~~

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Friday 1:45pm

From Princess

Lisa. LISA. LISA.

I'm home but but he. Omg

~~~

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Friday 2:38pm

From Princess

There's a tiny stuffed panther in my bag with a note:  I just want to be with you

My very own Tiny Murder Panther 

[sanchoyo]

Looks like you’re gonna have to gush some more cuz I meant in general uwu🌸

🌺😌🤟 Always happy to! Okay here’s just some General bnha Thoughts ™ Mostly Lov centric. You asked for them, and you said GUSH about them, so here’s. A Lot! :)

This isn’t a lov one but it’s really funny so I thought I’d put it out there:

-when bnha was first gaining traction on tumblr, it was all art of Tsuyu. I have no idea why. People were talking about the funky frog lesbian superhero anime. Maybe it was just the people I was following, maybe it was a general trend, but I LOVED her design!!! my fav color and frogs r super cute!!! And I already loved superhero media, so I was like. I’ll watch it. For Her. SO. FROPPY IS THE REASON I WATCHED/READ BNHA. I went in thinking she was the protag and I was sooo confused when Izuku was... tbh I still think it’d be more interesting if she was lmaooo aus where? ...seriously if anyone has good aus where this is the case send them LOL

-I don’t actually feel that bad abt what Shigaraki’s doing. I still feel bad for him. I’m this post. yes im an apologist. its not my fault hes sexy and has been running around shirtless. hes a lesbian icon like thor is. I want to touch his hair. hes never done anything wrong in his life. he could kill all might, deku, bakugo, whatever, I’d still be sayin this. I don’t feel bad for gt. like. was anyone genuinely attached to him? lmao

-well u know how spinner’s quirk is just sticking to things? We haven’t seen him use it in canon except like, (1) time iirc?? I think this is probably bc he’s embarrassed about it even in front of the league... I loooove the idea that he gets more comfortable with it around them :”) and also how shigaraki. um. does that falling asleep thing while standing up with his eyes open, canonly? (which I still love lmfao) Imagine someone in the league walking in a dark room, turning on the light n just seeing. Spinner upside down, stuck to the ceiling asleep bc heat rises and its Warmer Up There. (cold blooded thing like tsuyu?? come ON give him a big fuzzy coat and scarf...) and Shigaraki in the center of the room, slouched but still standing, eyes open and motionless. Theyre both sleeping. Whomever sees it just...slowly walks out. LMAO

-Toga roller derby au. No deep thoughts I just think she’d be good at it. 

-Toga 100% is a social butterfly and could befriend anyone if they didn’t just judge the fact she was trying to stab them smh :/ (ok but seriously anytime I see cute friendships with her n the other kids im like :) aw. I feel like her and Camie...would be good friends. Camie feels chill enough to be like ‘ok whatever thats totally fine I forgive you!!’ LMAO we love airheads here)

-HOW DID TOGA GET SO GOOD AT FIGHTING? We know she’s been on the run since middle school or so, but good enough to pin Deku down after he’s been formally trained at a ~hero school~ for a while? (she pinned him TWICE I think, once when his arms were messed up, but, the other time as Camie, so? AND THEN WAS ONE OF THE 100 PEOPLE TO GO THRU TO THE 2ND ROUND OF THAT? even tho she didn’t bc she had to leave) good enough to beat Aizawa in a fight and stab him? A professional hero and teacher for YEARS? Is that seriously just street training??? Can people acknowledge how amazing her combat skills and reflexes are??? More Toga appreciation when?? Also her backstory??? SO subversive and incredible, hate when people reduce her to just a ~typical anime yandere~ :/

-Tomura doing stuff with his hands/fingers to train his quirk!!! And to learn to be careful with it!! obv I’m a Big Fan of him playing piano to do this and video games are prob the canon answer, but like, guitar or any stringed instrument that requires Hands would work too. Or knitting/sewing? EMBROIDERING? ??? Please, let me give you the mental image of him knitting aggressively while mentally scheming, watching a twitch streamer or smth too while doing it. (Doing stuff with your hands is a great way to let your mind come up with creative stuff, that’s how I come up with writing/drawing ideas 70% of the time)

-Tomura actually PREFERS cutesty, relaxing games. I mean, he does fighting and bloody stuff irl, games are a way to relax...he’ll play shooters and gta type games with The Lads, but. on his own?? animal crossing. pokemon. kirby games. mario. zelda. BIG ZELDA FAN (not saying this bc I, personally, am biased, but,) slime rancher, stardew valley, funny simulator games... he really enjoys those :”) God forbid he has a kid bc they’re 100% getting named after a viddy game character unless someone can talk him out of it LOL. Toga and Tomura are that animal crossing /doom meme where she’d be asking for doom and him asking for animal crossing :”)

-Bits and pieces of Before are kinda stuck in Kurogiri’s brain, but like. mostly useless stuff the doctor didn’t care about removing. Like, types of clouds. So Tomura kinda picks up on stuff like that. He can just look at clouds and tell you what type they are because Kurogiri used to take him up to high places in the city and point them out to calm Tomura down from a panic attack when he was younger. He can tell you if the sky looks like it’ll rain with a 80% accuracy rate too. 

-Kurogiri left food out for kitties in the alley beside the bar. They weren’t allowed in for Health Reasons (it IS a bar with sanitation standards!!) And Tomura really wouldn’t stop it or encourage it either way so long as Kurogiri did his job, but occasionally would stand outside with Kurogiri and just watch the kitties from a distance. If any approached he’d go back in (lowkey afraid he’d hurt them by touching them :( ) They kinda kept that between them tho, bc they both Know AFO is a big bag of dicks and no fun

-people have pointed out how similar aizawa and tomura look. this was 100% the intention. tomura has a hatecrush on him. THIS IS SO FUNNY AND HORRIBLY AWKWARD FOR KUROGIRI LMAO

-Sako??? Mr. Dramatic?? Opera fan. Drama kid. Like, obviously, but. Really. He is. I feel like he can speak a dozen languages. I also feel like he used to be an overachiever but got too ambitious. He was def some kind of leader at one point of a diff Group or something that fell apart. I LOVE how creative he is with his quirk and the magician theme??? incredible. I don’t show him enough love but I Love Clowns :o)

-I don’t care what their canon heights are. Spinner and Dabi? short kings. My height hcs are (tallest to shortest) Kurogiri, Twice, Sako (who also has heels on his boots and a tall hat, keep in mind), Tomura, Magne (Tomura and Magne are about the same height imo) Toga, Spinner, Dabi. LISTEN. Dabi has short energy. Sorry. it’s true tho

-This is a semi-popular hc I think bc I KNOW I’ve seen it before, but Dabi having Terrible Vision and needing glasses is so so good. (seriously, with burns THAT close to his eyeballs, how could he not?) 

-he tries to be a tough loner coolguy. you’d think he’d smoke, but I hc his ‘weak constitution’ comes with weak lungs (esp from years of a flame quirk?? inhaling smoke over so much time is SO bad for you, most people who die in fires actually die of smoke inhalation...) so he’s got like, an inhaler, can’t smoke, actually gets carsick, needs glasses, overuses quirk to save friends constantly, likes napping, a little awkward and rude. Tomura put him in charge of the vanguard so he’s smart, and good with strategies too, like a nerd. this is the Dabi I wanna see, not the popular fandom version of him tbh also step on hawks one more time sir :”)

-I wish all the lov fics weren’t?? villain!deku like I said earlier, but also, chatfics? I have nothing against them but most of them are just a bombardment of Memes with NO PLOT!!! Listen. text/chatfics CAN have plot and be an interesting way to tell a story. I almost want to write one just to show what I mean...

I know I’ve said I like spinaraki and blackmagic, but I am a multishipper, so a few ships I don’t talk about that I like that involve the lov in some way:

-toga/any of the 1A girls??? or Camie??? super interesting. ALSO in the radio drama, bakugo’s voice actor said Toga was his favorite girl??? so?? bakugo/toga ?? I WANT TO SEE IT. but specifically my fav dynamic with her is when someone ELSE is the one to like her first, it’s what she deserves.

-Kurogiri/aizawa/mic?? any variety of that is also 👌🏻 I also kinda wanna see kurogiri/all might bc. Dads. COME ON. they bond over ‘well, I raised him, and you want to have a part in his life now?? ok. earn it. prove it. I’ll screen you first’ or something LMAO they’re both genuinely concerned for the boy, and SOOO biased. let them bond.

-WAIT WHERE IS THE MIC/COMPRESS CONTENT. THEYRE BOTH DRAMATIC. ENEMIES TO LOVERS?? HELLO??? SOMEONE?? ANYONE. rarepair hours

-giran/twice is cute. like he was hyping him up so much and so ready to go save him...

-dabi/magne where is the content. when. why not everywhere??? I’ve also seen magne/compress which was cute!! or twice/magne? they’re the big sibs of the lov...

-dabi/spinner?? come ON dabi could get over his learned biases and spend time with him and they could hold hands. I want them to.

-dabihawks. Obviously bc the Drama. yes even still, don’t @ me. (also, shigahawks, seen some REAL interesting fics with it tbh) or spinahawks?? adding hawks to a ship is like adding extra chili powder. makes it SPICY dramatic)

-nine/tomura don’t @ me once again. both kinda afo’s playthings, nine obviously was the test for tomura’s new upgrades...they both love their friends...That Scene in the Flower field </3 hmmm tragicships are fun.

-tomura/mirko. more enemies to lovers. big fan of her and bunnies. remember when he wore bunny ears in bnha smash. (ok its crack but. CUTE.) 

-I’ve also seen shiganatsu and shigafuyu and I’m like. these are cute, but also Dabi’s reaction always makes me cry laugh. so good.

-MOST EVERYONE IN THE LOV IS LGBTQA+!!! heres my personal headcanons:

Toga: pan or bi (CANON BASICALLY)

Magne: transwoman (CANON BABEY) bi, leans towards men. (her crush on dabi in bnha smash... uwu content where)

Shuichi: gets sooooo flustered canonly, I think he’d go for the first person Who Hit On Him (I can see him being the target of those mean pranks where someone says ‘my friend likes you!!’ and the friend is like ‘eww!!’ :(((( ) he’s super hesitant for romance, lots of repressed stuff. gay but takes sooo long to realize it bc he thinks most women are conventionally pretty Aesthethically, feels obligated to Like Them, but has bad self esteem so never goes after them, then only likes (1) guy so hes like?? is this allowed?? is this allowed???? (HES LIKE. IN LOVE WITH SHIGARAKI)

Dabi: bi but rly hasn’t ever gotten to date anyone, so he’s actually more reserved about it and while he’ll tease, he absolutely is absent and kinda oblivious (again, I KNOWWWW bnha smash isnt canon, but. my god. when magne is hitting on him and he Just Doesnt Understand.) also hes ace

Tomura: doesn’t care. (just prob says ‘its whatever’) trans/nonbinary (i’M NOT PROJECTING, BUT. :’/) probably goes with like, the label queer if any but doesn’t care much for labels

Kurogiri: bi??? kind of??? I say kind of bc well, I hc U Know Whom as bi, I feel like thatd carry over but he’d be really avoidant to date anyone bc hes gotta Watch His Kid u know? this is gonna sound surprising but I think he’d be the type to be like ‘ok we can have a one night stand/fling BUT it cant get personal bc I have a Job to Do for my Son so don’t get up in your feelings’ and act a little coldly at first or very ..not personable... depending on who it was he’d prob turn around eventually, esp if that person valued his feelings/job :”)

Sako: that mans Not Straight. I hc him as gay and also trans :3c

Twice: Bi and HAS dated prob more than anyone else in the league imo, super comfortable with his sexuality and supportive of everyone else’s :)

ok that’s about all I can think of atm, come back in 5 minutes and my brain will refill with lov headcanons :3 thank you for asking!!