#to my poor followers that don’t know the context:

[kurakuradonn]

u deliver the groceries. im in her walls. we r not the same

guess who’s obsessed with The Boy (2016)

[ennas-aesthetic]

What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?

This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.

Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)

First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.

But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.

(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)

The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.

Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.

Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.

'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'

- (Good Omens, 1990)

That is NOT what happened to Jesus.

Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)

Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.

UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.

"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)

We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:

"JESUS

(muttering through the pain)

Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .

Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.

CROWLEY

You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?

AZIRAPHALE

Smirk? Me?

CROWLEY

Well, your lot put him on there.

AZIRAPHALE

I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)

SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."

Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.

(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)

Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.

In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.

And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.

Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! DELINQUENT! OC x READER

As celebration for 1K followers and 1K likes on the HAIRPIN | POPPED short fic. I have drawn a sketch of Mori and made another fic for you all ! Enjoy ;D

Please read the previous fic linked above for context.

warnings: [y/n] is masc leaning though i don’t use anything specific to describe them. [y/n] is kind of a terrible person. perv! mori. mentions of sex. underwear theft. stalking. m. masturbation.

IT TOOK MORI AN EMBARRASSING AMOUNT OF TIME TO NOTICE THAT YOU TWO WERE IN THE SAME CLASS. But now that he knew, he made sure to attend as much as he can. Shamelessly staring at you like he was about to have you as his next meal.

This would have prompted your classmates to warn you, if you weren’t such a menace and a half yourself.

From what Mori learned from his stalking, you were about as bad as he was when it came to physical hostility only that yours came in the form of verbal and emotional assaults. You were known for turning even the most popular person in campus into an outcast with just a click of a button. It became your job to basically be on the know-how of everyone. You probably knew everything there is about Mori himself.

He found out after seeing an underclassman confess to you. Poor kid had his heart shattered when you told him that you shared his declined terrific confessions about wanting to be railed by you, to not only the entire school, but the internet as well.

What was even worse was that kid still liked you after all that. Apparently you two were acquaintances and he had unknowingly saved the junior from getting his ass beat by kicking the bullies’. And that led to you and Mori meeting.

Tch. Why did he have to owe that lanky piece of shit the honor of encountering you?

After going through the 5 stages of grief that is falling in love with you. Mori decided to just fuck it and accept the fact that he ain’t getting you out of his heart and/or mind anytime soon.

Might as well indulge his feelings.

By that he means following you everywhere.

And he means everywhere.

His lackeys are so confused. Why was Boss stalking you? You had a horrid reputation like him, but you only attacked when provoked. But the way Boss was staring you down said otherwise. His horny was mistaken as anger.

This would have prompted them to ‘deal’ with you. If you didn’t threaten their social lives.

So for the next month it had been a standstill. Until one fateful day. When you dragged him to a dark, abandoned shed behind the school.

And started taking off your pants/skirt, and your undergarments. Your genitalia out for show.

“Wh-Wha—Wait— I’m—“ He stuttered. He’d seen you strip many times before. Even masturbating inside your closet and on your bed. But seeing you do it right in front of him with nothing between you two was still . . . new but nice . . . and a tad bit overwhelming.

“It’s my underwear.” You dangle the piece of cloth on front of his face. Using your free hand to put your pants/skirt back on.

“I can see that, why are you giving me your dirty ass—“

“I was thinking it may have been the kid. Taking all my laundry and all that. But then you started following me everywhere.”

“Y-You knew?!”

“I was guessing. But now I know.” You shrugged casually, as if you hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell in the world. As if you hadn’t just exposed his depraved actions towards youz

“Which brings me to my next point, I want you to go out with me.”

“What?!”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“YES! I mean, yes — But . . . why ?”

“Well it’s an equal exchange. I’d have a boyfriend to stop all those pesky confessions and attempts at my life, which you have been doing for me in the background. Thank you, by the way—“

“You’re- You’re welcome? You could have said something—“

“Let me talk properly before I change my mind.” Tired of holding your underwear, you decided to throw it on his face before continuing, “And you, get to take all the underwear you’d like. Get to take me on all the dates you’d like. Maybe even fuck me in whatever place or position you’d like.”

This was too good to be true. Mori was leaking from the words coming out your mouth, but he had to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into a situation he didn’t want.

“What’s the catch?”

“It’s simple. Know your place. I take the reins of this relationship. Not you. I make the decisions and adjustments to this exchange. Not you. We’ll break up when I say so. So there’s no backing out on your terms I’m afraid.”

The arrangements seemed unfair. Too perfect. It wasn’t as if he’ll break up with you at any moment, he’ll just have to focus on keeping your eyes on him. There was nothing to be afraid of. Doubt still permeated, but even then . . .

“Deal.” He answered immediately. The benefits were too good to care about essentially being a guard dog. He might as well indulge as he has been.

This time without the time spent hesitating on his decision.

“Let’s make good on that deal right now, shall we?”

[ YANDERE DELINQUENT / MORI CHARACTER PROFILE ]

[niki-phoria]

hii! can I request a foreigner 8th member of enhypen studying Korean with niki except they just keep using it to flirt with each other and the other member who’s teaching them (heeseung/jungwon/jay whoever) is like damn I didn’t come here to third wheel and they get all flustered hihi

Rlly love your work! It’s so difficult to find gn reader fics so your blog is rlly one of my comfort safe spaces 💙

pairing: niki x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 613

includes: flirty niki, lowkey secret dating au, reader isn't korean but race/ethnicity aren't specified, this is short i'm sorry i had no ideas ://

a/n: thank you for requesting !! it means so much that this blog is a safe space <33 i hope you like it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

niki leans his head against your shoulder as you pull out your textbooks. you flip through the pages until you find the chapter you had been working on. beside you, jay raises an eyebrow at the unusual affection from niki, though neither of you notice it. 

“we left on adjectives last time,” jay says. “why don’t we work on more vocabulary?” you glance at niki for confirmation before nodding at jay. “okay, there’s a list of different words, i think we should practice using them in sentences. you can make up whatever sentences you want, just focus on grammar structure and picking words from the list.”

your practice begins routinely - you and niki take turns practicing how to use more and more complex words to change the context every now and then. jay speaks up to correct you every now and then, offering feedback on your pronunciation or pointing out how small variances change the meaning completely.

it isn’t long until niki’s half of the conversation stalls as he stares into your eyes. you can feel yourself growing increasingly flustered under his watch. his lips quirk upwards as you nervously look away from him and back down to your notes. “your eyes are pretty.”

“yeah?” you turn to look back at him, cocking your head. 

“yeah,” niki nods. “you have pretty eyes and a pretty smile.” 

jay scoffing behind you makes you jump slightly. he raises an eyebrow at you, eyes moving from you to niki. “are you two flirting? in front of me?” his faux offense makes you laugh as you turn back to the notes in your textbook. 

“we’re not flirting!” 

niki’s poor defense falls of deaf ears as jay playfully continues teasing. “really? you’ve never told me that i have pretty eyes or a pretty smile.”

“maybe i just don’t think that you’re pretty.” 

you laugh as jay playfully gasps, putting a hand over his heart. “well, if you two are gonna sit here and flirt, then i’m gonna go.”

“we weren’t flirting!” you call after him. you can’t help the laugh that escapes you when the door closes behind jay. niki is quick to join in as you collapse onto your shared bed beside him in a fit of giggles. “we should keep studying,” you whisper. 

“we should,” niki replies. “but since when have we ever followed the rules?” 

his teasing makes you chuckle even more as he reaches up to wrap his arm around your waist, tugging you down to lay beside him. you let out a sigh as you relax beside him against the covers. you shift even closer to him so you’re resting your head against his chest as his grip around you tightens ever so slightly. 

you fall into a comfortable silence together. niki’s eyes slowly begin to flutter closed in the silence until you break it with a whisper. “do you think he knows?”

“hm?” 

“jay. do you think he knows about us?”

“maybe.” 

you shift to look up at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “maybe? you’re really not worried that he might know about us dating?”

“even if he does-”

“he probably does.”

“even though he does,” niki continues. “he’ll support us. all of the hyungs will. we both know that.” you sigh, laying back down against his chest. you let the steady rhythm of his heart beating calm your own anxieties as he rubs a gentle hand against your back. 

“hey,” niki whispers, tilting your head up to look at him. “i love you. regardless of what happens or who finds out, i’ll still love you.”

you smile, leaning up to pull him into a sweet kiss. “i love you too.”

[sea-lanterns]

Seeing the last few asks regarding Dehya in the Empress AU, it got me thinking. So, obviously the other Courtesans are jelly about this outsider butting into to their circle and getting a wee bit too chummy with their Empress. Now, imagine. Beidou (and I'd like to say Shenhe, though idk if- even in the context of this AU- it'd be in character for her) start having a sort of contest with Dehya, trying to one-up her in displays of strength. Meanwhile the Empress is just appreciating the show (maybe even being being swept by the herculean woman, for better or worse) trying not to die from being so flustered (among a particular other emotion, if you catch my drift) from the strong duo (or trio, if Shenhe were to partake) so openly, and competetively vying for her affections.

A competition where buff women try to one up each other by proving their strength to the empress? Oh, anon. You know me so well ;)

sfw under the cut—————————

First off, Beidou was definitely the one to initiate the competition. She was getting jealous at the way Dehya was just so casually grabbing her empress and carrying them around like they were nothing. That was her job. (And Shenhe’s too sometimes) so why was this outsider suddenly stealing their job?

In terms of getting Dehya to agree to such a competition, Beidou had to get Shenhe on board to make it seem like she wasn’t the only one being petty.

“You don’t like Dehya, right?”

“I don’t have any opinions on her.”

Beidou would facepalm and try to make Shenhe jealous to join the competition.

“I saw Dehya carrying the empress.”

“Okay.”

“She was getting pretty handsy with them too.”

“Mhm.”

Beidou sighed and finally thought of an idea.

“You know, if Dehya joined the harem, she might become one of their bodyguards. Meaning you won’t get as much alone time with the empress anymore.”

Silence.

“Shenhe?”

Okay, now Shenhe was on board. The two of them walking up to Dehya and declaring a competition to see who was the strongest and fit for the empress’ side. Dehya looked confused, but agreed nevertheless to the competition as it was just another excuse to flex in front of the empress.

When the competition starts it’s your typical Olympic style lineup where each event would have a different test of physical endurance. The empress and their harem would all gather outside to watch in the shade as Dehya, Beidou and Shenhe all competed for your heart.

Truth be told, some of the courtesans in your harem thought it was ridiculous. Keqing especially as she just rolled her eyes and sat by your side with her arms around your waist.

“Are you brutes done yet?” Keqing would yell, watching as Dehya and Beidou engaged in an intense arm wrestling match while Shenhe quietly waited for her turn. “The empress shouldn’t be out in the sun for too long. We didn’t bring sunblock…”

As everyone was caught up in the hijinks of the competition however, you couldn’t help but admire the three buff women all flexing and showing off their strength in ways that made you swoon. Your favorite part of the competition had to be the swimming part if you were being honest. The way your courtesans + Dehya were in the water wearing minimal clothing with water dripping down their abs was just too hot for you to look away.

“Hey empress! Like what you see?” Dehya would chuckle from the water, letting the water droplets slide down her body before Beidou tackled her in the water.

“Weak! I’ve had my muscles since the time I could barely walk!” Beidou would counter back, Ningguang groaning at how the competition quickly escalated into a fight, as Shenhe innocently doggy paddled in the background of the pool. (Poor Shenhe was the only one actually following the rules)

“My empress, shouldn’t we stop this?” Ningguang would ask, quickly shielding you with her parasol as splashes of water almost soaked through your clothes.

“No, let them be,” you smiled as you watched them tussle with each other in the pool. Unable to admit that the real reason you were letting this continue, was so that you could watch the muscular women pine for your affections. “Let’s give them another hour.”

By the end of the competitions, you had Beidou and Dehya tired out with Shenhe as the reigning champion from the competitions. Not only did she follow the rules, she absolutely demolished the two with her strength due to her intense training with the adepti.

“How…How did she…” Dehya looked stunned as the elegant woman simply strutted over to you to claim her prize.

“Yay, Shenhe you did it!” You cheered, waving your arms in the air. “I’m so proud of you— oof!”

She didn’t say a word as she hoisted you up in her arms and started walking away. Off to have some alone time with you as she wanted nothing more than to have you all to herself…

[f1oricide]

We all have cravings

Yan! Mikey x reader

This is kinda like a part two for the Yan Mikey hc I made. Also just know this is strictly fiction, I do NOT support this Irl if you do please seek help. This is my contribution to horrortober ig. I did not proof read this at all so I hope u enjoy my brain rot.

Tw: build up, poor writing, blood, kidnapping, yandere themes, cannibalistic themes, anxiety, panic attacks, nonconsensual touching (nonsexual), overall bad time for y/n

I hate my job. Customer service is bitch in a half, I swear to god customer service employees are doing gods work. I can’t even wipe tables in piece without some lady yelling at me about how her frappe has too much ice like it’s a global issue. What’s worse is how I spend 8 hours of my life for this, I need a better job.

Walking down the slightly empty streets of New York, my body aching for my beloved bed. I look at the shops as I walk by, absorbing all the trinkets and doodads inside. One place though, stopped me in my tracks, a quaint little bakery near by an alleyway. the inside had a golden glow to it, it was almost unreal, beautiful, and the smell was amazing.

so as any normal young adult would do, I walk in, not knowing what I want to buy. I instantly feel regret setting inside my stomach, why did I walk in? Oh god I can’t just leave without buying anything, maybe they didn’t noticed I walked in? Looking around right as that thought sped through my mind, I made eye contact with the baker, they greeted me, but god of course they saw me.

Well due to social obligation, I HAVE to buy something. Panic started to rise as I still have no idea what to buy, knowing the baker isn’t even rushing me, the panic is still there. Just as I thought all hope was lost, I felt another pair of eyes on me. Turning I see a man in a trench coat and fedora, staring at me through the glass like I’m one of the wonders of the world. Weirdo. We make eye context for a second before he snaps out of it, and stumbles inside.

Thank god, an out I thought as the man walked closer to the counter. “You can order first if you’d like, Im still deciding.” We made eye contact again, despite the added difficulty the fedora he was wearing made. “Wow, thanks stranger! You know this place has some delicious raspberry sweet rolls! I totally recommend them if you haven’t tried any!” Sweet rolls? As a recommendation? This dude just keeps getting weirder and weirder, but considering I don’t know what else to get, I might as well try it, what’s the harm? “Hmm that does sound tempting, maybe I will” making sure to add a smile after, the man seems to beam at my remark. “Trust me, they are AMAZING especially with some chamomile tea and vanilla scones”

Pfft- What are you? A rich old white British lady? “Pfft hahahah! Good one, it really does sound like I am huh?” He continues to laugh even harder as the “joke” sets in as I stare in shock and horror. Did I really just say that out loud? “My names Mikey, what’s yours stranger?” He says while wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh uhm- y/n” were doing introductions now I guess. “Well y/n it’s nice to meet you” holding his hand out, I didn’t fail to notice the green skin and the three fingers outstretched towards me.

Oh my god, what the hell?! An excuse, think of an excuse. “We should probably order, don’t wanna hold up the line” good one me. He looks behind us and I follow suit; low and behold, no one else of course. He chuckles before turning back to me and says, “I guess you have a point”. Retracting his hand he turns to the cashier and places his order. The cashier told him that he’s gonna have to wait for 20 minutes for it to be ready, Mikey nods and turns to me before asking the cashier for those raspberry sweet rolls. Oh god-

“Oh can you make those separate?” I sputter before Mikey quickly answers, “I insist, I don’t want you to waste your money if you don’t like it!” Convincing argument plus free food? You win this round “Mikey”.

After paying Mikey and I go to sit down at a nearby booth. Maybe I have him pegged wrong my mind started rationalizing. Maybe it’s a medical condition? We sat for a good minute in silence as I’m overthinking per usual. “So, what do plan to do with a whole loaf of zope bread?” I say to avoid the loud thoughts buzzing through my head. “Oh! Well I was planning on making it myself but I might as well try this places zone, I’m planning on pairing it with some-“ before he can continue, the cashier called out the raspberry sweet rolls to catch out attention.

I got the rolls and walked back to the booth. “Well, here’s my order”

…

“So…see ya…”

Before I could even take a step though, Mikey shot up “whaaat?! B-but you didn’t even try it! I want to see if you like it or not!” He stared at me with pleading eyes, like a dog begging it’s human for a treat. Why is he so invested in this? “I didn’t think you’d want to know my feedback..” “well duhhh, I recommend it to you, I just have to know i hit the nail on the head!” Oh… well whatever it takes to leave faster. I grabbed a roll and popped it in my mouth, it was EXPLODING with flavor. I think Mikey could tell with the knowing smirk that spread across his face.

After that we started talking more in the restaurant, I got to know him more. Apparently he has three more brothers, when he made me guess which one he was, it wasn’t hard to tell he’s the youngest. Eventually his order was done, disappointment sent in me because, well, this was actually a pleasant interaction with a not so total stranger. Acquaintance if you will. By the time his order was ready, I already ate all the rolls, so I guess this is it.

“It was nice meeting you, I didn’t really plan staying out this late.” I said as we walked out, the sky nearly dark. “It was reallyyy nice meeting you too, you know…” he stated reaching in his pocket. “If you need any more expert cooking advice, give me a call!”

.

.

.

That should’ve been it, but noooo, I just HAD to call back, we just HAD to get to know each other more, he just HAD to show me his “secret” identity…I just HAD to fall in love…no..for his tricks

It all started with food, a fucking roll no less. He fed me and like a wild animal I kept coming back. I ignored all the red flags, all my friends concerns, not noticing how they quickly left my life after venting to Mikey about them. I kept coming back for more like a dumb dumb animal.

But now here I am, a small closet with one twin bed and barren walls, no fan or vent. What did I do to deserve this? What avengers level threat did I cause to end up here? There’s barely anything to do besides relive old mistakes and sweat. Dare I say it, I even miss my job and being a useful member of society.

The door finally opened the reveal the devil himself, Mikey. But somethings off…I’ve been here long enough to read Mikey’s face like a book. He looks nervous, like he wants something nervous… fear started to creep within me, what did he want now?

Usually he brings stuff in like crafts or food and water, but this time, it’s just him. Closing the door behind him, he speaks. “Hi my Angel…” a grimace grew on my face. That nickname used to make me swoon, but now it makes me want to throw up. “I have a very important question to ask you”

This was the question that ruined my life…and I thought it couldn’t get any worse… he wanted me…ME. To… just the thought is making me gag- EAT HIM. LITERALLY. The thoughts in my head started swarming me, his justifications and explanations fall on deaf ears as the room swirls around me. He gently grabs my forearms snapping me back, since when did I start crying? I can’t even breath right, I feel like I’m drowning.

“Listen, I know it sounds really really REALLY crazy, but I need you to trust me… you’ll be okay. This will be good for us! We’ll be together all the time isn’t that great?” No, it’s not great, far from it actually. “I won’t force you to do it now of course, take your time, I’ll wait, I’ll always wait for you”

Ever since then, no matter how much I stalled, it was only putting off the inevitable. No matter what I did, it never swayed him. Actually, it did, but not how I would’ve wanted. He started giving me less and less to eat. It started off small with a few less portions, but I never noticed the twitch in his smile whenever I put down his encouragement to chomp on his arm. He started giving less portions and no breakfast anymore, id be lucky if he gave me dinner.

Im hungry, starving even. It hurts, it hurts so so much. He would always come in more often, lifting his arm and encouraging me to bite. “Come on, you can do it baby”. It pisses me off. How dare you kidnap me after I gave you my trust. How dare you put me in a cramped tiny room, having to solely rely on you for everything. HOW DARE YOU force me to break EVERYTHING I thought was RIGHT all while you look at me and TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.

.

.

.

I hate you. I failed to notice hot tears running down my face. I hate you. I also failed to notice how hard I shook, how my teeth grinding against each other until it hurt. FUCKING I HATE YOU

Red, it’s all I can see. I used laughing when any character in media say they saw red, can you blame me? It sounds so…dumb, but I get it now. I understand, how ironic. Apparently, I could..taste red too…

Snapping back to reality a brick of drowsiness crashes down onto me, I must’ve had some high adrenaline because my jaw started hurting like a bitch. Liquid runs down my jaw, it’s warm..fresh. Why do I feel something on my tongue-

Shock slaps me in the face, my eyes go as wide as saucers, what have I done?? Looking up at Mikey I see the sheer amount of euphoria in his face, his eyes holding so much love, it might spill out. I need this thing out of me, I need HIM out. I gag trying to spit it out but he quickly puts his hand on my mouth. “you can do it, swallow quickly, it’ll all be over, your doing amazing” I don’t even think before swallow the lump down. The worst part about this whole experience was feeling the lump of meat slide down my throat and plop into my stomach. My mouth instantly starts salivating, and I’m forced to question if it’s because of the hunger still in me or the sheer amount of disgust and horror in me trying to throw it up while Mikey whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

Everything is too much. The air is too hot, too heavy, too wet. It feels horrible on my skin. It’s too noisy, to crowded, too much. Mikey only hugs me tight to his chest, his arm still bleeding , all while I lean in considering how it’s the only comfort I’ll get out of this hell hole. “I knew you’d trust me…I love you.. so so sooo much. I’ll never leave your side. We’re bound together as one, isn’t that great?”

All I could do was sob violently, slowly passing out, everything slowly fading to black.

[bluehwale]

okay so idk if you’re taking requests or not, BUT BUT BUT could u please write ateez as chb demigods (kind of like the jongho one), the scream i let out when i read demigod on the post was a bit embarrassing tbh

also hi new follower 👋 gonna go stalk ur masterlist/s don’t mind me :))

the rainbow thief | demigods! poly ateez au

02 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / prev / next

summary. eight demigods find themselves ecstatic over finally mustering up enough courage to let you know about their unbridled feelings for you, only to find a threat looming upon them; a rainbow thief that's set out to steal you.

or alternatively,

your best friends are oblivious to your reciprocating feelings.

pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)

word count. 3.1k

genre. pure crack, angst if you squint real hard until ur eyes close, tons of fluff, literally the dumbest thing i've written help, basically idiots2lovers, ateez are chronic simps to the point where it's hard to watch, borderline unhinged behavior, they are also himbos!

warnings. alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), cursing, not proofread sorry </3

note. hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for a long while and i'm so sorry it took so long to be posted (almost d worded bc of my assignments) anyways, i kinda added a spin on this req by making it a poly fic, i hope you don't mind! thankyou so so much for being my first ever request<3 hv a great day!! ily ^3^ ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated pls i need to improve my writing

masterlist

San thinks this is definitely a level nine code red.

To give you an understanding of San’s Catastrophe Indicator, here’s some scale to context; a level eight would be Wooyoung somehow finding out his deepest darkest secret— that he still sleeps with his plushies every night; and a level ten would be getting zapped on the ass by his dad’s lightning bolt (and potentially having to stay in the infirmary for a week). So yes, a level nine is alarming, if not, exceptionally lethal.

It’s been exactly 53 minutes and 46 seconds since San has been watching you enthusiastically converse with an unfamiliar boy who’s sitting a little too close to you for his liking. His heart aches at the way you throw your head back as you let out your endearing giggles and how you teasingly shove his arm while the boy looks over to you with a grin, probably proud of a joke he told that made you laugh.

(It has also been 53 minutes and 46 seconds since the pink haired boy remains frozen behind a tree— the perfect hiding spot, he mused— all the while trembling like a leaf as he struggles to resist the temptation of flying in your direction curled up as a ball to hopefully cannonball the boy off the bench beside you.)

San huffs, he won’t let this be! It’s supposed to be the special day where he and the boys finally let you know about their feelings, and he would rather backflip off a cliff than let this undeniably handsome, seemingly perfect, flawlessly flirty guy who looks like he jumped out of a popular romance anime seduce you!

He falters, however, when he sees you stand up and grasp the boy’s hand to rise along with you. 

The poor boy’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he sees you inch closer to the blue haired boy, a pretty smile evident on your face as he then wraps an arm around you, pulling you close while whispering something into your ear that makes you blush. 

This can’t be happening! 

San’s hands turn jittery as he unconsciously moves away from his hiding spot, needing to get closer to you, his best friend that he’s been hopelessly in love with for years, but he can feel his heart finally breaking when you excitedly pull the boy into a warm embrace.

Snap!

Your head looks up to see San pausing his steps after accidentally stepping on a tree branch with eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. You innocently wave at him and San prays that the ground would swallow him whole.

He feels his hands grow clammy as he ungracefully dives behind a trash can to (unsuccessfully) hide himself from you and the unfamiliar boy walking together towards his direction. But of course, with the unmistaken pop of his pink hair, it’s hard not to notice him— especially for you.

“San!”

The demigod curses under his breath when he sees you in front of him and sheepishly stands up to meet your amused eyes. The blue-haired boy beside you stifles a laugh with an unconvincing cough and San thinks he hears the male mumble, “Oh, is this one of them—” before you elbow him on the stomach, cutting him off as he groans.

You pay no attention to the boy beside you as he doubles over in pain to clutch his gut, you turn to brightly grin at your best friend instead. “Meet Yeonjun! He just got here yesterday and, oh, he’s an Aphrodite kid! I think you both would get along pretty well.”

San feels his eye twitch. He tunes out your voice that rings throughout the air as you introduce him to your new friend.

A son of Aphrodite. Your new friend.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty and love. 

His heart sinks into his stomach.

This might be even worse than a code red level nine.

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“There better be a good reason for San to drag me here in the middle of drafting up my Capture the Flag strategy plans.” Seonghwa, the brain and only hope of the group, crosses his arms and tsks. 

The state of an emergency calls San and Mingi (an Aphrodite kid and the first San ran to for consultation) to round up everyone in the infirmary, an unfitting spot to hold their “emergency meeting” but the two boys couldn’t wait for Yunho’s healer shift to end. Mingi taps his feet anxiously when it looks like San’s unwillingness to speak due to his sullen mood means that he will have to be the one to break the news.

Ever the poster child of rationality, he slowly starts, “We think… _____ might be interested in someone.”

“You mean some people,” Wooyoung cackles, sipping his wine from an ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug as he gestures to his best friends sitting around in a circle. “There’s nothing to worry about, everyone in camp told me she’s 100% gonna accept our confession. They even think we’re all already dating.” The boy proudly smiles, taking another sip of his wine as his stomach flutters at the thought of you.

“She’s in love with an Aphrodite kid,” San blurts out.

Splatters of red wine burst out of Wooyoung’s mouth when San’s words finally registers in his mind, leaving him to stammer and gape wordlessly as chaos ensues with the rest of the boys.

“What are you talking about?!” gasped Seonghwa, any previous thought of his strategy plans immediately forgotten.

“But— but we were supposed to tell her today!” Yunho, ever in tune with his emotions, wails while his hands slap his face to cover his already leaking eyes. “What are we gonna do with the humongous bouquet I requested the Demeter kids to make last night?!” He reaches out a shaky finger to point at the flower bouquet and an equally large teddy bear taking up a whole corner of the infirmary. 

Amidst the commotion, Mingi locks his arms around Yeosang who seems to have resigned from his body completely and looks like he’d willingly give himself up as lunch for any nearby sea monster. “Guys, calm down, maybe this is all just a misunderstanding—”

“An Aphrodite kid, you say?” interrupted Jongho, already rolling up his sleeves to relieve his bulging biceps from ripping his shirt apart. “What’s this guy’s name and what does he look like?”

“Jongho, you’re not killing anyone—”

“Mingi’s right,” Hongjoong sighs, eerily calm besides the smoke fuming from his nostrils and his eyes that glint devilishly. “Instead of killing him, making him suffer throughout his afterlife sounds much better, I’ll make sure my dad takes note of him.” 

“That’s not what I meant!” interjects Mingi who, still grasping a Yeosang who’s ready to jump up and dash off into the ocean, shoots a desperate look begging for help to the eldest. 

“Maybe he’s trying to seduce her into a pyramid scheme?” Seonghwa supplies weakly, brain racking to find any other reason to support the idea that maybe you’re merely close with this person as friends and not because you’re in love with him.

“And why the fuck would he do that?”

“We demigods aren’t immune to capitalism.”

“It’s hopeless,” counters San, shutting everyone else up. They look over to him with furrowed brows and trembling lips, one that matches his own. “You weren’t there– you didn’t see what I saw. She looked so happy.”

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The eight sulky boys toddle around mopily as they pick apart the romance-themed decorations littered around the hidden area you all claimed as your group’s private hangout place. They can’t help but feel dejected over the fact that you— their best friend who they’ve been in love with for years, like someone else.

“Thought I’d find you guys here.”

Speak of the devil.

Their heads snap to find you walking on the path of rose petals they prepared earlier today, dressed in a baby blue mini dress you reserve only for special occasions instead of your usual get up of the orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. An easy smile rests on your face as you greet your best friends and they can’t help but feel their hearts grow heavier at the sight (except for Yeosang who is too busy panicking over you possibly noticing the ‘We Love You _____!’ banner that is still on display).

“______, what are you doing here?” The glint in your eyes visibly falters at Seonghwa’s question, your excitement twisting into unbridled nerves that settles uncomfortably in your gut when you notice everyone staring at you as if you shouldn’t be here.

Word spreads crazy fast in camp and it didn’t take long for you to overhear about the surprise the boys had planned for you. Although it unsettles you that the boys might be upset at their spoiled attempt of surprising you, you can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of them liking you back after all these years of you believing that your feelings went unreciprocated. 

So imagine your confusion when none of your best friends showed up to lead you to your surprise and that, after happily skipping all the way here, you find them hostile in your presence.

“Uh,” you trail off, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails as you try to gauge their reactions. “It’s just… I didn’t see any of you today except for San. I missed you guys.”

It seems like that was the wrong thing to say as the boys, to your confusion, suddenly broke in tears.

“You can’t say things like that!” Yeosang hiccups, bringing a hand to his face to wipe the steady stream of tears falling from his eyes and earning broken mutters of agreement from the other boys.

"Wha—What?" you stammer, surprised at their reactions. What’s going on?

“You shouldn’t say things like that when you know we can’t have you.”

“What do you mean? Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re in love with someone else!”

You pause. “Huh?” Any trace of your previous nervousness vanished, instead replaced with rejoicement at the thought of them being jealous over you with someone else. You restrain the urge to giggle.

“It’s okay, ____. We understand,” sniffles Seonghwa, clamping his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth who was clinging onto his arm while yelling: ‘NO, WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND!’ It took awhile for the eldest to eventually tackle the younger to the ground, suppressing him by placing his weight over him while Wooyoung continues to let out muffled yelps as he struggles. Seonghwa turns to you and offers a weak smile, the usual shine in his eyes nowhere to be seen. “We’re happy for you.”

You try to contain your amusement. “You are?”

“We are,” Yunho nods, hastily wiping away his own tears to hold both of your hands in his (you can distinctly hear Wooyoung’s muffled scream of ‘WE’RE NOT!’ in the background). “We’ll always be here for you. We’ll always be your best friends.”

“That’s gonna be a problem, though,” you chide lightly, feeling the smile you’ve been trying to mask creep up to your face. “I want you to be more than just best friends.”

It took a couple seconds for the sulky boys to register what you said and when they did, you’d think they’d won the lottery or something (you’re pretty sure Jongho leaped three feet up in the air). 

“But what about that Aphrodite kid?”

You turn to Hongjoong in confusion. “What Aphrodite kid?”

Everyone turns to accusingly look at a certain pink haired boy. 

San gulps. “Yeonjun,” he mutters. It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“...Yeonjun?” you burst into laughter, uncontrollable giggles escaping you from how ridiculous this is. “We’re just friends and he has a boyfriend. I was even talking about you guys all day to him!”

“Y—you were?” San stutters, already feeling the pointed glares burning on his back. “I—I thought you liked him…” 

“I don’t,” you reassure them with a smile. “How could I when I’m in love with you guys?”

Mingi lets out a relieved scream, enveloping you in a tight hug to bury his face in your hair and inhale his favorite scent— the sweet smell of coconuts; you. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. We’ve been in love with you too.”

You take a peek from Mingi’s embrace to see the other boys celebrating; Wooyoung’s already chugging down a freshly opened bottle of wine while the rest of the boys are simultaneously doing tiny hops in a group hug and letting out excited yelps. Your cheeks ache from grinning too hard at how cute your boys are.

“_____! We need to go to the infirmary, we prepared something for you!” Yunho excitedly pulls at your arm, just remembering the bouquet and teddy bear for you, separating you from the blonde giant who’s now sporting a pout at you leaving him. 

You and Yunho both merrily skip your way to the infirmary with your hands intertwined and pink dusting your cheeks, unknowingly leaving a pink haired boy to meet his doom.

“Aha, who would’ve thought that she’s not actually in love with another guy?” San forced out a nervous chuckle, slowly backing up from his best friends and wishing he could disappear just about right now. “No hard feelings right? Everyone makes mistakes—”

“Shut up. Come here.”

Not too long after, a loud scream rings throughout the camp.

(“That sounds so much like San, don’t you think?” you worriedly ask the boy beside you who’s dwarfed behind the huge teddy bear he’s helping you carry to the Iris Cabin. 

“Nah, that’s not San.” Yunho calmly shrugs, his smirk hidden behind the gigantic bear plushie as he thinks of his own revenge against the culprit for his whirlwind of emotions he went through earlier today.)

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INTERLOGUE

BEFORE THE EMERGENCY MEET UP IN THE INFIRMARY…

“Mingi.”

“Huh?” The blonde boy in question looks up to see San barging into his room, looking as if he ran a marathon to Aphrodite’s cabin (which is exactly what he did). “How did you even get inside?”

San ignores his question. “You have a new brother?”

“Oh, Yeonjun?” Mingi nonchalantly asks, missing the way San’s figure goes rigid at his name as he returns to applying black polish on his nails. “Yeah, he just got here yesterday. Cool guy. What’s up?”

“I think _____’s in love with him.”

“What?!”

[lucysarah-c]

Levi getting overwhelmed with ladies attention

This is an upcoming part of my multichapter Levi x reader fic but you don't need much context to understand it. It takes place before Levi becomes a captain but after the events of ACWNR. He's dating YN in secrecy, almost nobody knows about it. Except Y/n's friends because... girls tell eachother everything lmao.

That's it. That's all.

The garrison division of the main city of Wall Rose was a busy place, always crowded and loud. When Erwin decided to show the place around to Levi, the shortest one thanked the scouts was a quiet place. The number of affiliates couldn’t even begin to compare and, yet, it was just a division. There were plenty of more members across the walls.

“Levi!” a brunette girl called, making both of them turn around. Erwin curious on who could know the former thug. Levi followed the calling voice at the distance and saw a young nurse talking to other girls with the pristine white uniform before rushing to them.

“You know her?” the yet to be commander inquired.

“I’ve no fucking idea who she’s,” Levi murmured because the girl, with another 5 quickly appear.

“Hi, Levi!” “Hello!” “Levi! how are you?” all of them joined in chaotic greetings as they surrounded the brand new scouts. Pushing Erwin out of the way, who moved reluctantly and the shorter youthful girls ignored him completely. 

Erwin, who was completely lost in the sudden popularity, searched for the black haired man expression in the wave of girls. He couldn’t help but to chuckle on the back of his throat to admire the usual stoic expression of Levi, changed into a complete confusion and scared state. ‘Like a cat when there are too many children around,’ he thought.

“You haven’t forgotten us, haven’t you?” A short blond girl wondered, faking taking offense.

To which Levi, not even trying to fake interest or politeness, replied “I don’t even know who all of you are?”

Erwin was well aware how much desire nurses were in the military, most soldiers died for their attention and grimace to the idea of Levi, who was single as far as he was aware, completely neglected the female attention.

However, they all chuckle as one. White pleated skirts moving as they turned to look into each other, convinced in the hilarious moment.

“He’s a keeper!” they all said as if it was inner code that made the short black haired guy frown even deeper, confused, lost, scared.

“We are Y/n’s friends! Do you remember us? We were helping in the tents during the last expedition!” The brunette, who seemed to be taking the lead of the assault, explained. Levi drew his eyebrows even more together, if that was even possible, and once again they giggled “You’re too busy, don’t worry!”

As if they were creating their own excuses in favor of the poor black haired man.

“Are you joining the garrison?” One ginger asked and touched his right arm softy, catching his attention Levi turned right, frowned, and moved his arm out of the way trying to erase the hand “No,”

“Why are you here then?” Another question, this time by a blond girl with big brown eyes. She also touched his arm, but the left one.

Levi was trying to remain as friendly as possible, knowing that they were, probably, his girlfriend’s friends. But he wasn’t used to the free affectional touches and he wasn’t found either.

“Extra hours on free days,” He explained quickly, wishing this sort of torture to end.

He was, over all, not a really social person. He didn’t enjoy the crowds, the attention and, less, the sudden highly affectionate friends of his girlfriend.

“Oh! So we will see you around!” One replied and they all smiled brighter “Make sure to pass by on our facilities,”

“No, thank you” Levi was quick to reply.

Another blond chuckled “He’s funny! Can you stay for tea?”

All the five girls nodded enthusiastically “Yes! We have biscuits!” The brunette insisted “Y/n told us you don’t have that many friends in the surface yet, we can be your friend,”

Another squeeze on his arm, friendly.

“Don’t touch me,”

He was getting too overwhelmed, internally wishing to be outside the walls facing titans than be cornered up in a social interaction inside the walls. Gray eyes moving from one place to another, not knowing which girl paid attention as they all talked. Quickly, he turned to Erwin who was chuckling at the scene and made a desperate call of “COME AND HELP ME” with his overwhelmed facial expression.

The blond, entertained, decided to give away the other man his help. “Sorry, ladies, but I need to bring him back to the scouts. I promise to borrow him another afternoon,”

“Oww,” They complained out loud “alright” The agreement sounded less enthusiastic.

One by one, they all smiled. White teeth shined through their red lipsticks that matched the red cross on the uniform. “Goodbye!”

Each faraway came with a subtle kiss on the cheek, Levi almost parting his face in disgust of the physical touch. He didn’t even have time to try his best friendly tone to beg for them to not do it.

Once the group walked away parting, waving a goodbye to the tallest of the two. White mary jane heels echoing against cobblestones. Levi’s breath was rushed as he finally felt free but he turned around confused and overwhelmed when Erwin began to chuckle loudly.

“What?”

“You should see your face” 

Loud and deep groans of complaint came from Erwin’s attached bathroom, at his office. Meanwhile, the blond was slacked against the green stuffed chair laughing his ass off. Mike, who joined at some point when he heard the laughter, was chuckling.

“This shit doesn’t come off!” Levi screamed from the bathroom, only making the other two laugh loudly.

Levi was hurtfully scrubbing a towel against his cheeks, they almost burned on the pressure but the red lipstick wasn’t going anywhere, only mugging around into an intense stain of red on both of his pale cheeks.

“Oi! Give me something!” He complained to Erwin, owner of the place.

“What do you want me to give you?” He said between chuckles “I have already given you all that I own! Soap, a towel, shaving cream, after shave tonic!”

Indecipherable groaning complaints filled the room as the other two blonds laughed.

“I’ll never understand what women like nowadays,” Mike commented “Why are they so interested in a man under 1.80?” 

Both of them, unaware of Levi’s brand new relationship yet and that relationship connections, imagined that it was sexual attention from the nurses.

“Tell me a period of time when you ever phantom what women like,” The future commander argued back.

“Touché”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Levi!” Erwin shouted from his desk, making the short man peak through the door’s frame. Red cheeks making both of them chuckle again.

“What?” The moodiness was almost palpable.

“Why don’t you ask a female cadet if they have something to take that off?”

Levi’s frowning eyes quickly turned to Mike who was in a relationship with Nanaba, silently asking.

“Don’t look at me, Nanaba doesn’t like to wear makeup,”

Levi refused to wait until Y/N came back to take that off from his face. Also, another reason was that he feared that the girl would misread it if she found him with his face covered in another woman’s rush.

A knock at the door and then it opened.

“I brought some papers from Hange,” Moblit spoke up to Erwin then turned to his left and saw Levi still trying to scrub his face with soap “Woah, what happened to you?”

“Levi got attacked by a group of feral nurses,” Erwin commented entertained.

All of them began to chuckle again and the future Captain was cursing them under his breath, ashamed at this point.

“Do you want me to ask Nifa for a makeup remover? That is not going anywhere, probably waterproof”  Moblit gently asked.

“Look at that, Moblit knows a lot about women’s lipstick,”

“We are surrounded by lady killers, Mike”

The two oldest men in the room were immersed in their own conversation.

“I have 2 older sisters that forced me to play with them,” Moblit commented as an excuse.

Levi sighed loudly and said “please,”

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

“Being a pirate is all about going your own way.” // “Come with me, Buggy!!”

is this post totally redundant after the similar post i made last week? idk. i guess the main difference is that this time i’m looking at the same topic in an unambiguously romantic light? the shipper goggles, as they say, are on, and i want to talk about these scenes in that context. so, if you’ll forgive me for repeating myself a bit, let’s talk about this again:

as much as i enjoy the heartbreak of “they always thought they’d be together but miscommunication tore them apart” takes on shanks/buggy, the very first flashback we get about them—the first things we learn about them at all, really—tells us this isn’t true.

and i think what we get is more romantic.

Chapter 19, Pages 12-13. i know last time i said they’re at most 12 here, but looking at these lanky-ass teenaged designs that’s nuts. i fully believe oda hadn’t thought through their ages/the timeline at this point, and they were originally supposed to be about luffy’s age when buggy got his devil fruit. which is not relevant to this post in any way, but it’s my post so i get to go off-topic if i want.

Shanks and Buggy have their own goals as pirates, and at this time they understand them to be mutually incompatible. Buggy thinks Shanks’ travel-and-adventure-oriented take on piracy is soft and foolish; Shanks doesn’t care for Buggy’s exclusively treasure-focused take. They’re sometimes friendly, sometimes not, they’ve fought side by side, but they know this time as allies and crewmates is temporary. (Buggy plans on taking his treasure map and the Devil Fruit and leaving the crew immediately.) Maybe they’ll become friendly rivals, ‘fighting to the finish’ when they run into each other like Roger and Whitebeard do, or maybe the next time they see each other they’ll literally fight to the finish. Who knows?

“That’s also what being a pirate is all about.” It’s very sensible behavior. Smart planning for the future.

Which means the contradictory ways they act later—Buggy secretly deciding to follow Shanks, Shanks bluntly asking Buggy to come with him—are not about these characters thoughtlessly clinging to the status quo. They are not in a “we were always together and I never thought that would change” situation. Deciding to stick together is a considered, emotional decision: “I know we don’t make sense together but I don’t care, I want us together anyway.”

Chapter 1082, Pages 8-9. i was cursed the moment i saw these pages with Unable To Stop Thinking About It disease; only time will tell if seeing it animated makes it worse or cures me.

This argument is a codependent breaking point. Buggy’s pinned all his dreams on Shanks, hoisted that poor boy up on a pedestal, and it all falls apart when Shanks reveals thoughts and plans that don’t match Buggy’s perception of him. He can’t bear to be around him now that the false image has been revealed. (Shanks, poor thing, seems to have had no idea any of this was happening.)

But if Shanks hadn’t said no to Laugh Tale in this moment—or maybe if he’d offered a soft no of, idk, “okay, sure, once we’ve got a strong enough crew”—Buggy would have gone with him, still projecting wildly onto Shanks. He’d convinced himself that being a member of the Pirate King’s crew was enough for him, that he didn’t need to be Pirate King himself if Shanks got the title and he was with Shanks.

…but would he have actually liked being a member of that crew?

Like, looking at the things the Red-Haired Pirates do, would Buggy have enjoyed being one of them? Wandering East Blue, hanging out in friendly port towns, collecting treasure here and there but spending a lot of time getting drunk and making friends with the locals? Eventually becoming famous for having a large, weak fleet of subordinate pirate crews Shanks has to sometimes physically step in and protect?

God, no, he’d’ve been miserable. Just seething with thwarted ambition, furious at the perceived disrespect. A real power hungry first officer stereotype, the kind of character that makes you think, Why’s he working for this guy if he hates him so much?

And Buggy must have suspected it would go something like that. But if Shanks hadn’t rejected Laugh Tale, he would’ve gone with him anyway.

(Better to be miserable with you than a loser on my own.)

Or say Buggy agreed to come with Shanks. Obviously his presence wouldn’t change the crew makeup significantly enough to skew the Red-Haired Pirates towards his way of thinking, but for the sake of argument: if he had convinced Shanks to do things his way, would Shanks have enjoyed the kind of piracy Buggy engages in? Taking over and destroying East Blue port towns, ordering your crew killed on a furious whim, single-mindedly hunting down treasure maps and single-mindedly hunting down treasure chests and paying no attention to anything along the journey? Eventually becoming the boss and administrator for a bunch of bounty hunters and mercenaries?

No way; most of that behavior is totally repellant to Shanks. If he let Buggy do that kind of thing under his banner, you’d be left wondering What happened to his morals? Why does he let this guy walk all over him?

And Shanks knew the kind of pirate Buggy was and wanted to be. But he asked Buggy to come with him anyway.

(Better to be miserable with you than have fun apart.)

It’s hard to see a way to make these very different styles of pirating work together. It’s probably doable… with a lot of compromise and honest conversation. The younger Shanks and Buggy had a point, when they said each going their own way was the obvious choice! It was certainly the easier one. Was it the happier one? Who can say.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Tutor: Sunbathing - Rafe Cameron

Words: 5.4k+ Type: Smut Summary: It's one of those hot days in OBX, and Rafe comes over once more. Warnings: Fem!Reader [no mentions of race or bodytype]. Mentions of controlling parents, an ex-boyfriend (who does not satisfy their partner in bed), nosey neighbors, and pressure to be perfect. FORBIDDEN RELATIONSHIP. SMUT {risk of getting caught / almost public sex, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, no protection (she takes the pill), hair pulling, dom!Rafe, sub!reader}

Tutor Masterlist (for context, you should rly read the other smuts <3)

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

By clicking to read more you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and mature enough to read mature scenes :)

It has been exactly a week since Rafe came over for the first time, and every moment of that night and the following morning is still in your mind.

In the morning, you remember that you were the first one to wake up. You expected to be in the exact same position you were when you fell asleep, but, in some weird way, Rafe was lying on his stomach and you were on his back. How you two flipped around, you have absolutely no idea, but it happened.

Getting up wasn’t easy. You underestimated the hell out of how sore you would be, but you took your time and eventually got to the bathroom.

Midway through your shower, you may or may not have had company. Due to your soreness, all the two of you did was kiss and, well, shower. You’ve never felt your heart so full and happy other than in moments like those. Being near Rafe still felt mind-blowing to you, for some reason.

After the shower, you both got breakfast and talked while sitting on the couch of your living room. You felt like you were smiling at everything he said or asked, and Rafe listened to your every word.

Unfortunately, he did have to leave at some point. Your parents said they were going to be home by 11, and, at the time, it was nearing 10. You couldn't risk either of them seeing Rafe as you're sure that they would kill you on the spot if they did. But you can't exactly say you didn't consider staying with him for just a minute longer.

You two finally exchanged numbers, so you can (finally) always text him or call him. You kissed him goodbye and, right as the door closed behind him, you dramatically covered your mouth and sat on the ground for at least 2 good minutes. It wasn’t until you heard his bike driving away that you squealed happily and jumped around the house because you, YOU, are officially in a relationship with Rafe.

In what seems like the universe hates you, in the days that followed, you two had close to no time together. You had to tutor Wheezie every single day due to a test coming up, and your friends would always be outside in the driveway when you finished. Meaning that Rafe wasn’t able to drive you home once. You saw him in the hallway maybe 2 times, but that was it. Due to the work trip that your parents took, they also happen to take days off. So, the house always had one of them inside. Your friends were constantly coming over after school as well. Therefore, making every second of your days impossible for Rafe to show up at least once.

It was not easy but a possibility opened up just this week. Your parents are going to be over at a friend's place for lunch and, as always, spend the afternoon talking between themselves - as it has been so long since they last saw each other.

And poor you. You will miss out on all that fun. 

“You can’t order pizza again this week.” Your mom tells you and you sigh.

“But I don’t want to cook.” You whine at her, waving your hand around from dramatization.

Your mom does this a lot. She always wants to know what you’re eating to know if you’re actually doing it. She promises that it’s for your own good, but this also comes with not letting you have more than one ‘easy’ meal a week. Not even if you’re stressed with school, because your mom is the type that wants you to take breaks and actually cook something for yourself in those situations.

You watch as she fetches the cookbook that she swears by with every meal and try to peek as she chooses something for you to make. You wait and listen to her patiently, deciding to just do as she says.

When done, she pokes the book while making eye contact with you. She doesn't move away from it until you walk over to it and begin to read the contents of the damned cookbook. As you do so, she goes to do a quick run to her bedroom to get her last accessory for today.

“Are you planning on having anyone over?” She asks as she’s coming down the stairs.

“Not sure,” You lie, “Why?”

“Your room looks a little messy.” She tells you as she reaches the doorway, and you give her a glare for going into your room, “I’m just saying.”

She walks over to the fridge to grab a water bottle and stops behind you, peeking over your shoulder to check if you’re actually considering cooking or not. You listen to her crack the bottle open and take a sip.

“I also have to ask you something.” She says with a completely different tone, a softer one.

You hum for her to continue to speak as you change pages, wanting to see what else you could eat. She doesn’t protest with what you’re doing, thankfully.

“Last week,” She starts, and you look up from the book at her quickly, “The neighbors told me something.”

Your breathing falters at her words, and you turn completely around to face her.

“I didn’t mention it to you before, because I thought it would be… awkward between us.” She tells you, “But I just want you to be honest.”

“Okay?” You force out a chuckle, trying to seem normal.

“Did you have a boy over on the morning after I went out of the island with your dad?” She asks, and your heart eases at the lack of the name ‘Rafe’ in the sentence.

You sigh still and turn back to face the book. Your mom knows how you don’t like how much she gossips with your neighbors. It's a constant thing she actually enjoys doing: talking about other people. The fact that you can easily be the topic of conversation in their gossip sessions is terrifying. And today is just showing you how possible it is.

Truth is, someone could’ve easily seen that the boy that came over was Rafe. Gosh, maybe they did see it. They just aren’t telling your mom.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You pause your reading to give her a glare once more, and she shrugs, putting her bag over her shoulder, getting ready to leave.

You open your mouth to scold her for it, but the sound of your dad coming down the stairs stops you.

“Do not tell him.” You simply tell her.

“Of course, not.” Your mother whispers at you, giving you a look as if it said 'I'm not stupid'.

The reason that is, it's because your father is the strictest out of both of them. He hates simple ideas such as your friends coming over to the house, and, especially, into your room. His way of parenting you is much, much more strict and has way more rules than your mother's ever did.

His rules include no boyfriends, no sleepovers with boys, and anything related to the opposite sex. He’s more okay with you having girl-friends, but even that has rules. He also says that you can’t go to too many parties in one week, or sleep over at any of your friends' houses on nights that you’ve drunk. That last one especially is highly prohibited.

Your dad appears in the kitchen doorway, and the two of you offer him sweet smiles, acting innocent - as if you weren’t just talking about a thing that would make him most possibly combust.

Your phone vibrates in front of you, and you flip it just so no one reads the notification on your screen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” Your father asks, secretly jealous that you’re not obligated to leave the house on a Sunday, while he is.

“Yes, I am.” You tell him.

“If any of the girls come over for the afternoon,” Your mom starts, and your dad looks at her as she talks to you, “Make sure you tidy your room just a bit, okay?”

You give her a short nod, and she gives you a kiss on the head as her goodbye. You wave as the both of them leave the kitchen and remind you of all of your responsibilities while they’re going to be out for a few hours. You sigh as you answer with a bunch of different variations of “okay” and “got it”.

The front door opens and closes, and you let out a sigh. You distance yourself from the cookbook and look around, lost in your thoughts.

If your mom knows that a boy was here and she didn’t ask any more questions than that, you can bet your money that she has no idea that he spent the night. If she had known, the conversation would’ve been totally different, and your dad would’ve been, most definitely, brought into the conversation as well.

You do remember that you checked the doors and windows of your neighbors when Rafe came in, but when he left... God, how could you forget? You could’ve come up with a lie by now to your mom if you had seen someone outside, and you wouldn’t be under her radar because you became suddenly friends with a boy.

Yes, because that is truly the end of the world, isn't it?

The situation with your parents is that they like the fact that they are on the stricter side. You don’t consider their parenting overbearing since they do let you live your life from time to time. But there are times that you don’t like certain things. You already are of age, you’re graduating this year, and yet they still protect you and limit your interactions with anyone if it means that you will be in safe hands.

Of course, it's for your greater good and for your safety, but it's infuriating at times.

And about the problems with boys. It's a tad weird to explain. They might have hated the idea at first, but you’ve been in a relationship before. It was an exact year ago, and his name was Aiden.

Aiden was well put together, charming, and he was extremely nice to people. He was a kook and had a clear distaste for some other kooks. Yet he was the stereotypical kook ‘good boy’. He went to almost no parties - your dad already loved him for this -, never did any drugs, had good grades, a lot of friends and he treated you very well. That is why he became the exception to the "no boyfriends" rule in the first place. He was perfect.

He also was the one that took your virginity. Your parents would’ve died if they ever even heard a mumble about this, but it's true. At the time, you felt like the moment was right and did it. Overall, it's truly a story to forget. You didn’t have a good time, you were in pain and, unsurprisingly, ended the night unsatisfied.

Your relationship lasted 4 months, and you can count on one finger how many times you actually felt satisfied.

This entire relationship, even though perfect in your parents' eyes, ended because of you. You didn’t feel attracted to Aiden anymore, or for the month before that. You had been avoiding him to avoid the breakup itself, and he had had enough of that.

When you broke up, it wasn’t pretty. He was mad and very, very sad. While you… Well, you just started to talk and continued to ask for the end of your relationship while he cried. It probably was very insensitive of you, but you really just wanted to get out of that relationship. You didn't feel happy in it anymore. What else could you have done?

Your parents were heartbroken too and highly confused about how normal you were with the whole thing. They couldn't understand that you just didn't find yourself attracted to him anymore. They even used words such as "absurd" to define your reasoning behind the breakup. They expected you to come back to Aiden in a space of a week. Then they decided on a month. And, slowly, you let their dreams go right down the drain.

Also, at that time, you were already ogling someone else. No wonder you weren't attracted to your boyfriend of 4 months. You had none other than Rafe Cameron at your new job!

You've thought about this many times and, maybe, this is why you like Rafe so much. He makes you feel good and has yet to leave you unsatisfied one time. Yes, he is a horrible comparison to someone like Aiden, especially when it comes to their personalities, but you’re starting to think that it's just how it works for you. They're different. Very, very different. Aiden is soft whereas Rafe is rough. The way they act and the way they treat you are different. Yet you find yourself preferring Rafe every single time.

The vibrating of your phone snaps you awake from your thoughts, and you grab it, reading the texts quickly. You answer back with the instructions on how to not get caught by the neighbors, and your heart naturally speeds up at the thought. Rafe answers back quickly, and you try to control your smiling.

He's coming over again.

(...)

“They’re just nosy, that’s all.” You explain to the man behind you as you pull the door of your backyard open.

Both you and Rafe walk out into the sun. You have just got done eating your lunch, and you two are finally doing what you had planned. OBX is under one of those excruciatingly hot days, and whoever is out of their houses is either swimming in the sea or in their pools. And you happen to have one, while Rafe does not.

The warm air circles the both of you as Rafe closes the door behind him. You walk in front of him, throwing the towels onto the chair under the large umbrella, and grab your phone from the elastic of your shorts, discarding it on top of the towels.

“How nosy?” Rafe finally asks behind you.

“Enough for the whole street to almost know who is visiting who at ungodly hours.” You tell him before you turn to face him.

Rafe has a smirk on his face, and you look up at him as he walks up to stand closer to you.

“Do they know?” He asks.

“If they did, I would already be six feet under.” You tell him honestly, and that makes him laugh. “I’m not joking.” You say with a smile.

Rafe nods as you say that, yet doesn’t offer any commentary.

In these past few days, while the two of you were away from each other, Rafe has had it rough. If he thought that he could get you out of his head now that he very much has you, he was dead wrong.

You hunt his mind when he’s with his friends, in the middle of meals with his family, when he’s trying to sleep, everywhere and at every time of day. Even when he gets high. He has to hold himself back various times to not just drive over to your house and feed into his urges. Getting to see you today is almost like a breath of fresh hair after having been suffocated for so long. And that might be why he can't seem to take his eyes off you.

Yet, in the middle of all his suffering, Rafe likes, in a very twisted way, the fact that you can’t be seen with him. He knows the consequences, or maybe only some of them, and that makes things shift inside of him.

It might be the thrill of ever getting caught, but he knows it's more than that. It has to do with you and how you are. You're someone who shouldn't even be near someone like him. You should be kept far, far away. Away from him ever destroying you as people may think. Yet here you are, texting him and taking him into your home as if it's nothing. You are the perfect naive prey, but who is Rafe to complain?

When Rafe snaps awake from his thoughts, you begin to take off your clothes. If he was staring before, he sure is staring now. You're wearing a small pink triangle bikini top, and the way the fabric squeezes your boobs into place is almost working like a magnet with Rafe's concentration.

He can already tell that he highly underestimated ever spending a day by the pool with you. All it's doing is making him think of how you look under said fabric. The images in his mind aren't hard to find and it’s not doing him any favors.

You’re completely oblivious to his staring. You’re done pulling down your shorts and are walking towards the pool. Rafe watches as you carefully dip the tip of your toe in, testing the temperature of the water, and the expression on your face makes it clear as day that you are not getting in that ice-cold water any soon.

A small gasp escapes your mouth when you feel it, and Rafe smiles at you when you look at him in shock. You face the pool once more and sigh. No matter what you do, you know you're not getting in.

You turn back around to face a shirtless Rafe now putting down his phone over the table just beside the chairs. You walk back towards him, and he looks down at you as you stand beside him. You lean your cheek against the warm skin of his bicep and look around the backyard to get ready to move in the hot weather.

After arranging everything, including the chairs and the towels, you've just taken your seat on one of them when you remember that you forgot the waters.

“I can go grab them.” Rafe offers after you let him know.

Rafe disappears into the house, and your overthinking mind quickly makes you do a once-over of your neighbors' balconies.

It's a little scary but you try to look for any peeping eyes. The fence of your yard is pretty tall, so it would be improbable for someone to peek inside. It would only work if someone got a ladder to do it, which is improbable since no one would ever work that hard for gossip (right?). The balconies and windows are truly the only things you have to worry about. They have a clear view of your backyard. But, right as you look at them, all that you find are empty balconies and curtain-covered windows.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and relax. No one will catch you, there's no way.

The door slides back open, and you watch as Rafe comes back with two cold water bottles. He walks over to you and comes to stand in the shade of the umbrella.

Rafe's eyes lay on you to admire you while you’re leaning back on your chair. You have one leg up, and your whole body is almost like in a display. Leaning back and facing the other side of the backyard, distracted for just a second. That damned bikini never leaves his sight though, ever.

It's while you're distracted that he leans the freezing bootle onto the warm skin of your knee. You gasp at the temperature of the bottle against you, and, when you go to take the bottle from his hand, Rafe pulls it away.

Playfully, he leans the bottle against your arm next and pulls away again before you could grab it. The two of you laugh at one another. All while the contrast of your hot skin and the cold bottle makes chills run down your body, and make you unconsciously gasp each time.

“Stop that.” You giggle at him.

Rafe keeps doing it with a smile on his face, right as you continue to struggle. You huff with impatience and lean back on the chair, finally giving up. Rafe chuckles and looks down at you seriously this time. The way your body looks is making begin to feel lightheaded, and he swears that he doesn't want to take his eyes off you, ever.

Only after a few seconds more of his staring, you stare at Rafe a little confused with what he's doing, and that's exactly when he lays the cold bottle, for the last time, right in between your boobs.

He finally lets you snatch the bottle from his hand, and you give him a look, one that only worsened his amusement.

“Asshole.” You add, trying to look annoyed but failing as your smile comes back.

You notice, this time, Rafe's eyes on your body, but you don't say or do anything. You simply put down the bottle on the table beside you and sigh. You lay your feet on the chair, folding your legs, and Rafe takes it as an opportunity to sit in front of you.

You stare at him while he sits, and decide to playfully lay one of your legs over his lap. He stares up at you, following the path from your leg all the way up to your face, and one of his hands quickly lays and smooths over it. You're leaning back comfortingly and watching Rafe as he moves.

As he looks away from your face, he appears to be deep in thought, and you can tell that by the way his movements slow down and seem lighter. You watch him yet don't ever say a thing.

When he looks back at you, his hand on you comes back as heavy as it was at the start, and you feel him slide it all the way up to your hips. You look down to see him play with the side of the bikini bottoms, and you see the way his fingers work with the tied knot.

“How strict are your parents?” He asks out of nowhere.

His eyes lift up at yours, and you tilt your head in thought. You think for a little, trying to find a good enough short answer that defines your parents.

“They're a little strict. But not a lot, I don't think.” You answer simply.

He nods, accepting your answer, and you watch him, trying to understand what he’s trying to get at.

“Never let me have a pet.” You add.

Rafe raises his eyes up at yours and smiles.

“That’s your only complaint?” He asks, and you chuckle at him.

“The one that hurts the most.” You tell with a dramatic tone yet still with your bright smile.

He hums with a chuckle, and you look down at his hand on top of your leg.

“Why do you ask?”

He shakes his head dismissively at first, and his words only come out after a few seconds as he squeezes onto your upper thigh.

“Just wanted to know.”

You adjust your position on the chair, and Rafe’s eyes move back to your body. You sigh, finding it hard to breathe freely with the too-warm air, and sit up.

As you do it, you notice how you’re a bit closer to Rafe than you first expected to be, but you’re easily distracted from that as your eyes move over to the balconies all over again.

“Want to go back inside?” Rafe asks as he does the same thing as you, following your gaze.

“No, no. It’s okay.” You tell him.

You lay a kiss on his cheek before he looks back at you. Rafe turns his head right after and you lay a kiss on his lips. It's a long peck at first. Your hands stay on your lap while his stay on your hip. When you pull away, there's nothing but silence between the two of you.

It's you that starts the second kiss as well. Your hands come to lay over Rafe's cheeks, and his hand begins to move up and down your leg once again. Rafe squeezes the flesh of your thigh and, when he does it again, he squeezes it tighter than before.

He leans you back on the chair while deep in the kiss, and you relax underneath him. His hands move to lay beside your torso, and he pulls away from the kiss. You look at him as he moves to sit right in between your legs, and your lips connect again once he's done, all as your palms smooth down his muscled shoulders.

Rafe grabs onto your legs and pulls you down, making you squeak in surprise against his mouth. You're now laying down and your legs are wide open and over Rafe's, giving him more than enough space. You’ve shamelessly missed every single bit of this.

One of your hands gets lost in his hair, and Rafe pulls back from the kiss, beginning to kiss down your neck. He gets to your chest and with one swift move, he pushes the fabric of your small bikini to the side and exposes your tits.

You gasp as he brings his mouth to one of your nipples, and you cling further to his hair. Rafe holds you in place as you move under him and moan out lowly as soon as he nips at the sensitive skin. The sensation of his warm tongue and lips makes your entire body burn from underneath him. The sound of your moan was a little too loud, and Rafe smiles as he shushes you. You try to keep yourself composed as he moves on to your other boob, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he does so, but you find it hard to do as soon as he begins.

All that Rafe does feels so much better for no real reason. You can't ever understand it. It can sometimes be as simple as a touch on your leg or a kiss, and it will always be a thousand times better with him doing it.

He pulls away and sits up, admiring the view before him. Your body is laid down on the chair, tits exposed to your entire backyard and what you have left to cover you is just a bit more pink fabric. Rafe brings his hands to your hips and swiftly undoes the knots of your bottoms, uncovering you completely before him. He swears that something in him burned to ashes at this newer view.

Rafe looks over his shoulder, checking the balconies all over again and making you almost snap away from the pleasurable moment, and he smiles as he looks back at you. Anyone could see you right now, yet you don't ever tell him to stop.

Rafe moves back on the chair, getting some distance between the two of you, and before you can even question it, he leans down and buries his head in between your legs.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and Rafe's tongue licks through the middle of your folds, collecting all of your juices right away. You move around on the chair and involuntarily move your hips to meet his mouth. Rafe forces your legs open with his hands, and you let him, letting yourself become absolute putty in his hands. His tongue laps at your entire wet cunt and he almost moans at the taste of it.

You bring one of your hands to the top of his head and cling on to him as he begins to suck your clit into his mouth. You bite your bottom lip, trying to catch most of your sounds that threaten to escape, and Rafe releases it. His tongue finds your soaked entrance all over again and his nose moves against your clit as his hands cling onto your flesh.

“Rafe.” You whisper his name breathlessly, and his grip on you tightens.

You look down at him, smoothing his hair back as he eats you out. Your entire body is in some strange sense of euphoria. You have never had anyone do this to you before. You’re experiencing this all for the first time, and Rafe doesn’t even have a clue.

His mouth comes back to move over your clit, and you whimper, slightly muffling it by your own lips at the last second.

Rafe moves his tongue over it time and time again, and your hips move under him, making him lift his mouth off of you out of nowhere. You look down at him, and he almost sends you a glare. Holy shit. He doesn’t have to say anything as you still your hips and cutely look at him as an apology. Rafe gives you a warning with his silence, and, soon, his mouth comes back to you.

His lips cover your clit again, he sucks on it a bit stronger than before, and he lets go of it as he looks up at you to watch your reaction. A sheer layer of sweat has begun to make your body shine under the light, from both the pleasure and the heat that intensifies around you two, and Rafe groans against your clit as he brings it into his mouth again.

Two of his fingers slide inside of you, and you notice how you didn’t even feel him lift his hand from your leg. You force yourself to keep your hips steady. You feel him slide his fingers in and out of you, and, when you look down, you watch as them glisten. Rafe’s eyes meet yours, and he smiles before pushing his fingers back in and reaching deep into you before bringing his mouth back to you.

You feel his fingers slide in and move inside of you and you cling onto Rafe's hair, bringing your other hand to your mouth, covering it just in case anything escapes. You already feel the bottom of your stomach burning with lust and, every time you look down at Rafe, everything feels so much more intense. Your legs have moved with some sort of spasms. Your entire doesn't even know what to do with the feeling, and Rafe could not care less.

As his lips stay on your clit, his fingers continue to work inside you and he curves them as he moves in and out. You cry out against your palm, and Rafe grunts. His shorts have never been so tight in his life.

“Please, don’t stop, Rafe. Please.” You tell him, uncovering your mouth and letting your head lay back once more.

Rafe intensifies the movements of both his fingers and his tongue, and he has to hold your hips down with his free hand. He works his wet fingers quickly inside of you, and he moves his mouth away to stare at the way they go in and out of you.

He lays a kiss on the inside of your thigh and watches as you get nearer and nearer to your orgasm.

“Can I cum, please?” You ask him. Your attempts to keep your voice down are long forgotten. 

He doesn’t answer right away, trying to test you for just a tiny bit, and he slides in a third finger, making you grab on tighter to his hair. He smiles against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and brings your leg over his shoulder.

“You can cum, princess.” He says before bringing his mouth back to you.

His lips wrap around your clit again, and you lift your hand from his hair, knowing that you will pull on it too harshly if you keep going. You bring both of your hands over your mouth, and Rafe sucks onto your clit harder, and harder, making finally reach your orgasm.

Your back arches from the chair and your legs shake and try to close as you sob behind your palms. Rafe watches everything with pride in his eyes. He watches the way you squirm, hears the way you moan, feels the way your walls squeeze his fingers, and how you taste. He pulls his fingers away and goes back in with his mouth, licking and drinking all of your juices.

You pull your hands away as you breathe in and out shakily. Rafe notices your state and kisses your clit messily one last time, making you tense up under him as he smiles down at you.

He moves up to sit closer to you and hovers over your body. You look up at him with half-opened eyes, and he admires every inch of your skin. He could look at you all day.

You bring your hands up to hold onto him, as you always do, and Rafe kisses both of your palms before they get to lay over his cheeks. You force your weak body up and kiss his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue, and Rafe follows the kiss as you fall back on the chair. He deepens it, making you weakly moan against him, and he grunts before pulling away.

One of his hands comes to rest on your naked hips and one of yours disappears from his cheek. Rafe soon feels it on the hem of his shorts before you pull them down with no hesitation, making his cock spring free. His tip is red and he’s hard, really hard. You watch it as you wrap your hand around it. Your thumb is over his tip and Rafe groans from just your touch alone, feeling your fingertip wet with his precum.

You adjust your hips under his and Rafe moves a bit, getting into a comfortable position to actually fuck you in a chair. You pump his dick as soon as he stops moving, and you line him up with your entrance.

“Condom.” He reminds you.

You kiss him and his forearm lays next to your head.

“I’m taking the pill.”

Rafe doesn’t even think twice before he slides his cock inside of you. You gasp at the sensation and he swears under his breath. Both of your faces are so close to one another that you practically talk against each other's skin.

You feel so warm and wet, Rafe never thought anything could feel this good in his life. He almost has to take a deep breath and he pulls his head back a little to check on you. It doesn't take him long to begin to thrust into you, and you mewl from underneath him, already feeling pleasure get the best of you not even a minute in.

Rafe watches as your face frowns with pleasure and he begins to speed up as soon as he makes sure that you’re comfortable. He moves to hover over you and gets a better look at your naked body as he thrusts into you. It’s a view he’ll never get tired of in his whole life. Your whole body shifts underneath him and his stare as it's sensitive from your past orgasm, and he smiles at the worsening frown on your face.

Rafe keeps a slow pace yet his thrusts are harsh. He watches as you hold onto the arm of the chair tightly, and your body begins to move on the chair with the force of his thrusts. Rafe brings his hand away from near your head to hold onto the highest part of the chair, and he continues to move into you. There's a great distance between both of your bodies, leaving you now completely exposed to Rafe's eyes but, also, anyone else's.

Your wet walls squeeze him with his every move and Rafe’s free hand squeezes onto your thigh, still laid beside him. He watches as his cock slides in and out of you, always appearing wetter and wetter with each thrust, and the sight alone makes Rafe hold on tighter to the chair.

Your leg wraps around Rafe as you try to pull him nearer, and your whimpers continue to turn Rafe’s insides. Your noises always sound so soft and small, they match you, and that makes the man feral over every single thing about you.

Your sounds begin to become a little repetitive as there’s not one thrust that doesn't make you moan. Rafe knows that you’re already close yet keep on trying to hold back the intense feelings to not cum just yet.

He decides to speed up this time and your moans only get worse. They’re quicker, still following each thrust, and you look at him pleadingly.

“What is it, baby?”

You don’t answer, but you keep whimpering underneath him. He brings his fingers to your clit, and he works in very light and slow circles on top of the small bud, making you whimper a little louder this time.

“You’re so easy to please, princess.” He tells you, feeling your walls squeeze his cock.

You nod at him quickly, and his smile only grows as he puts some pressure on your clit. Your back lifts from the chair at that, and he watches it fall back in disappointment when he pulls them away. You subconsciously bring your hand to do it, but Rafe catches your wrist. His hold on your wrist is tight and almost hurtful but you’re not one to actually acknowledge the pain as pleasure seems to get the better of you right away.

Rafe angles his hips better as he holds your arm against the surface of the chair, and you whine from underneath him as his cock gets to touch every little spot inside of you.

“Don’t you even dare to think about doing that again.” He tells you harshly.

You sob out a cry of pleasure, and Rafe lets go of your wrist to touch your clit himself. You feel even wetter than before now, the squelching of his thrusts just being another sound that the two of you are not ashamed to silence.

Rafe works his fingers on your clit, and you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Can I cum, Rafe?”

“Already?” He teases you.

“Please.” You elongate the word as a frown comes back to your pretty face.

Rafe smiles and gives you a nod as a response. He keeps his movements consistent and soon you fall apart beneath him all over again. Your walls squeeze so tight that as he keeps thrusting into you, he feels his orgasm near as well. The squelching worsens and Rafe can see how his own skin and hair shine with your juices. He takes his hand away from your abused clit and focuses on his thrusts only.

Rafe grunts and holds onto the chair tighter, feeling his orgasm finally reach him too. As you feel his cum fill you with each movement of his, your body is still trying to calm down from everything that just happened. You close your eyes at the sensation and only open them several seconds later.

Rafe lets go of the chair and bring his forearm close to your head again, getting closer to you. The two of you breathe heavily onto each other’s faces, and Rafe leans his forehead against yours. The two of you are so sweaty and are in serious need of a shower. The air around you feels even more suffocating now, and the warmth around you is much, much worse.

Your hand comes to Rafe's cheek, and you close your eyes again, taking in the moment. Rafe lifts his forehead from yours and lays a kiss on it, then another on your lips.

You reopen your eyes and look at him, his blue eyes focused on you as he admires you with such care. He lays another soft kiss on your lips, and you caress his sweaty cheek with your thumb. Everything is so soft and sweet. It’s all so unnatural to Rafe but he doesn’t care. He lets himself experience every bit of it.

Your eyes lift from his as you remember where the two of you are. A small smile grows on your lips at how ridiculous and sudden it all seems in your mind.

“We need to get back inside.” You tell him, calming down your amusement.

Rafe nods and pecks your lips one last time. He makes sure to pull out slowly and only then bring his shorts back up. He covers your chest with your top and is careful with helping you put back on the other half, asking at least two times if you're okay.

The two of you stand up, and you hold on to Rafe as your legs get a little shaky. Your arm wraps around his torso and he grabs your stuff from the table before the two of you make your way to the inside of the air-conditioned house.

And right as you step back inside the cold house and close the door behind you, one of your neighbors finally lets her urges win and finally peeks outside.

She looks and looks and finds nothing but your family’s backyard. Empty. No one is outside, much to her confusion. There's really no one that could be the owners of the voices she heard. And she heard such weird noises too, she swore someone was right there.

She stands by her window for a little longer, holding her sheer curtain in her hand, trying to catch someone if they ever walk out of your house or from under the umbrella, yet you or Rafe never do such a thing.

Giving up, she finally takes a step back and sighs.

Such a weird thing.

Hope everyone liked this! If you have requested anything for this series/universe, do know that I've started working on it! I'm just respecting the story's timeline, so, you'll maybe have to wait for a few more smuts before the ones you requested get posted <3

FEEL FREE TO REQUEST STUFF ABOUT THESE TWO HORNDOGS!

[makeste]

BnHA Volume 36 - Reaction Journey Part 2

continuing on our journey following yesterday’s volume 35 post! some more out-of-context random bullet point reactions taken from my reaction posts for each chapter. the full reactions for each chapter will go up eventually once I finish my manga catch-up marathon (currently at chapter 367).

spoiler warning: just fyi, this post will obviously feature spoilers for chapters 350-362, BUT it will also include a couple of stray spoilers from chapter 403 as well, so just a heads up for that if you aren’t fully caught up!

Chapter 351

friends, we are about to embark upon the most dramatic, theatrical, Shakespearean disaster of a fight this series has ever witnessed. brace yourselves

yes Shouto, that’s just cuz he literally doesn’t feel pain and doesn’t care if he lives or dies :’)

IS THIS PART OF THE PLAN??? IS SHOUTO NOT FIGHTING BACK BECAUSE HE’S TOO BUSY CONCENTRATING ON WHATEVER THING HE’S DOING?? BECAUSE IF NOT HOLY SHIT. YOU’RE ALLOWED TO FIGHT BACK SHOUTO

actually come to think of it, he hasn’t attacked once so far. not even the usual giant ice wall opener move. he’s definitely got something up his sleeve. but my god man in the meantime this is hard to watch

sorry Touya, but as justified as your grudge against Enji might be, your grudge against Shouto? not so much. I get it, life handed Shouto the keys to your dream life and he had the audacity to say he didn’t want to drive. but Shouto is allowed to make his own choices, and want his own things. for that matter, so are you. but you’re just stuck. gah. it’s so frustrating and yet the psychology of it is so incredibly compelling

“I might not have the clearest sense of my own identity, but at least I didn’t kill 30 people” fjdsjd gottem

“phosphor” is such a next-level attack name. pretty sure it has more to do with light than fire/heat, but with as white-hot as this attack looks to be, I get it and it definitely works

Chapter 352

love that Kaminari’s instinct when seeing this giant flaming X on Shouto’s chest is to immediately poke it. repeatedly. while Shouto just stands there and vibrates uncomfortably

finally!! a proper half-cold-half-hot ultimate supermove!! though I still don’t quite understand how “making fire that doesn’t actually burn things” is going to help in a battle in any kind of way. BUT I CAN’T WAIT TO BE PROPERLY EDUCATED

he’s thanking Deku. for helping him start to discover his true self all those eons ago. what a sweet sweet boy

omg here it comes ULTIMATE MOVE YESSSS

SLAM DUNK NAME AND VISUAL!!! 10/10!!! HELL FUCKING YEAH WAY TO LIVE UP TO THE HYPE HOLY SHIT

fuck. okay, yeah. if you give me a shounen character reminiscing over his hard-earned personal growth, and feeling profound gratitude toward his friends who helped him get this far, and then you suddenly hit me with the crying little kid panels to remind us of who these two characters really are, at the end of the day, once you strip away all the rest of it. you show me little baby Touya who’s just desperate to be loved and validated and acknowledged. and you show me little baby Shouto who understands his brother’s feelings completely, and doesn’t want to actually be here doing this, but knows that he has to because there’s no one else who can. if you go ahead and show me all of that!! well then!! I mean, good fucking job!! you knew exactly what you were doing!! well done!! you got the tears again so well done to you!! lmao

Chapter 353

okay is every single person here trying to jinx themselves now?? you guys do realize how absurdly lucky you are that Shouto finished his epic battle in the span of only 2 chapters? are you trying to draw more misfortune to yourselves??

“hey guys! great news, Todoroki already finished his fight” fdfklskf Kacchan’s gonna fucking lose it lmao. to say nothing of poor Deku who’s still busy hurtling across the Pacific

WHO IS THIS??!

lol what. he’s wearing a shirt collar and suit jacket as pants. and he’s got weird carpet hair and a disquietingly sexy face. AND FLOWER POWER?? who, is this, and why has it taken us 353 chapters to meet him. OR HER??? GENDER-AMBIGUOUS ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE. YOUR FIGHT BETTER BE COOL AS HELL YOU WEIRDO

how is Spinner actually TWENTY FEET TALL NOW??? like, that earlier panel wasn’t actually a fluke or something, that was actually happening?? you smashed a bridge to pieces?!? somehow you’re a Kaijuu now???

this seriously cannot be it though, especially since Iida didn’t even get to do anything. and I really, really, really fucking hate how nervous it’s making me noooo whyyyy

Chapter 354

there is no possible way anything Endeavor tries here will actually work. he’s giving off so many dead man walking vibes right now and I am not okay

DOES FIRE EVEN WORK ON AFO?? LORD KNOWS IT DOESN’T WORK ON ANYBODY ELSE

Hawks is shouting at him lol. “remember what happened to All Might in Kamino!” for real though! how do they keep falling for it??

oh my god what a sickening realization. to learn that the reason you never found your child was that he was taken. not killed, but taken. that it was never even an accident at all, but deliberate. he was targeted and hurt and taken because of you. and the man responsible for it is standing right here in front of you

YOU HAD SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLDS??? YOU HAD MORE SUPERPOWERED OP SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLDS IN RESERVE THIS ENTIRE TIME???? AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO USE THEM????

what’s AFO even going to do to them lol. I would love to see AFO stumble around and try to come up with some big intimidating weak-point-attacking speech for Tokoyami “The Darkness Is Where I Make My Home” Fumikage. he would probably love it. just sit there hungrily lapping it all up. “no but please keep telling me more about how tormented my soul is, this is great”

Chapter 355

I can’t believe Jirou and Tokoyami are about to fight god

I love Tokoyami and Hawks’s relationship so, so much. there’s just so much trust between the two of them. like on the surface it might seem like Hawks keeps underestimating Tokoyami every step of the way. but in reality it’s more that Hawks, being a former child soldier himself, is extremely reluctant to subject someone else to that, regardless of whether the circumstances are the same, and regardless of how capable Tokoyami keeps proving himself to be. yet another example of Hawks being continuously forced to walk a razor-thin line between decisions that he can live with, and decisions that will actually keep him alive. Tokoyami is a phenomenally powerful fighter, and his presence here absolutely helps tip the scales in their favor. but it’s also an insanely dangerous place for him to be, and so of course Hawks doesn’t want him here

meanwhile on Tokoyami’s end, he started out simply wanting to prove himself to Hawks, but once Hawks opened up to him, his exasperation almost immediately gave way to admiration and respect. and then he almost lost him at Jakku, and I think that really did a number on him, and so he’s so attached to and protective of him now. and I think that in turn has caused Hawks to try and keep his distance a little more, both because he has no idea how to deal with that emotionally, and because he doesn’t want Toko getting hurt. it’s such a delightfully complex relationship and I want to hold it and protect it with everything I have

AFO IS A BAD BITCH YES, BUT YOU ARE EVEN BADDER JIROU GET HIS ASS

lol he is REALLY cheesed about her showing him up in the previous chapter. definitely took it personally

I’m getting so many Bakugou vibes from this. legit getting chills over here. “shut your stupid mouth already.” she recognized the small dick energy a mile away

DIDN’T EVEN NEED ENDEAVOR AFTER ALL LMAO. THAT’S THE COOL, REFRESHING POWER OF JIROU

Chapter 356

AFO LITERALLY CAN’T EVEN PROCESS WHAT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW AND IT’S AMAZING

it’s okay to admit you just suck and are getting your ass whooped by Hawks and the sixteen-year-olds

what are you, a Zelda boss?? so he’s got a fucking phase 2 now?? WHY ARE YOU THE MOST ANNOYING MAN

DON’T DIE ENJI YOU FUCKING LOSER YOUR BOYS NEED CLOSURE AND SO DO I GODDAMMIT

ARE YOU REALLY DOING THIS WITH JUST THE ONE ARM YOU ABSOLUTE LUNATIC

anyways, wow. after getting COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY shown up by newly minted main character Jirou Kyouka, Endeavor got his moment after all. whatever else he may be, he’s a damn good fucking hero. and if anyone deserves to get punched so hard they burst into flames, it’s AFO, so yeah

Chapter 357

what a sassy little birb. like how he now has the sexy soon-to-be scar as well! you are now officially a Todoroki

YOU CAN SHOOT FIRE OUT OF YOUR EYEBALLS NOW?? YOU SHOOT LASERS?? THAT’S JUST A THING THAT YOU DO NOW???

fff Endeavor please don’t die :|!!!!

please zap AFO’s other hand!!! I am getting so freaking anxious right now. he’s either gonna win it all here or else something terrible is about to happen

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

DID HORIKOSHI KNOW??? WHEN HE WAS DRAWING THIS??? THAT IT WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO BE THE SINGLE WORST THING ANYONE HAS EVER DRAWN!??!?!!

OH MY GOD I SCROLLED DOWN AND IT WASN'T ACTUALLY THE END OF THE CHAPTER AHHHHHH. FOR SOME REASON I JUST ASSUMED IT WAS. POSSIBLY BECAUSE ALL I WANT RIGHT NOW IS TO FLING THIS MANGA AWAY FROM ME AND INCINERATE IT WITH A BLOWTORCH

Chapter 358

did TomurAFO really just slap a huge chunk of the iconic U.A. school building to pieces with his disgusting infinityhands all unceremoniously just like that. is nothing sacred anymore. what are you gonna do next?? kill off the most popular character??

“so anyway here’s 1000 words on why me becoming a despot is actually a good thing” dude just shut up and get back to slapping shit already

KACCHAN WENT TO THE SUPPORT COURSE FOR AN UPGRADE?? AND WE WERE DEPRIVED OF THAT ENTIRE INTERACTION?! YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT KACCHAN HAS MET HATSUME MEI AND IT WAS OFFSCREENED?? I am suing this manga for wasting my life

magnificent. inspired. I can’t believe this child is going to be fucking dead like three chapters from now (˘̩̩̩ε˘̩ƪ)

THE PALPABLE FUCKING CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!

FUCK YEAH KACCHAN MAKE THE BAD MAN GO BOOM

Chapter 359

is this dude actually livestreaming the battle

bitch he’s going toe to toe with the final villain while you’re down in the basement making a Tiktok. you are not the same

HIS FUCKING ARM, FUCK ME. FUCK. FUCK!!

his arm is literal splinters right now and all he cares about is that TomurAFO wasn’t impressed with his new cluster move :’’’’) it’s okay. it’s okay this is fine

this is literally Aizawa’s worst nightmare. greatest fear come to life. one of his students is hurt and in danger and he can’t do anything. Shirakumo all over again. Bakugou is about to die right in front of him and he’s so fucking desperate but he can’t do anything

omg. what a goated fucking chapter. Bakugou angst! Aizawa angst!! Aizawa Being Terrified Over An Imminent Threat to Bakugou’s Safety angst!! and to top it all off, “YOU’RE CLOSER TO MIDORIYA IZUKU THAN ANYONE AND THAT’S WHY I’M ABOUT TO MAKE YOU SUFFER” angst. hoooooooooooly shit

Chapter 360

so he’s literally just. torturing him. just fucking around. wow

WHY IS TOMURAFO JUST CONTINUING TO HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO KEEP ON DOING THIS. WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THE REST OF THE HEROES?? FFS, DEKU’S NOT HERE TO THROW A BACKPACK THIS TIME, WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE FUCKING SUCK SO HARD AT SAVING HIM?!

Studio Bones is gonna have to utilize some sort of AI program to autogenerate these hand things for all their fight scenes. I feel really sorry for that AI and I just hope that it doesn’t somehow develop sentience and take revenge on us all. it would be within its rights to do so

MIRIOOOOOOOO. ACTUAL BEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES!!! YOU CAN LAUGH AT KACCHAN’S HERO NAME ALL YOU WANT YOU FUCKING STUD. YOU EARNED IT

why was this man not our vanguard. why, when we lost our trump card in the first ten seconds of the fight, did it not occur to a single person that, WELL HEY, SINCE IT LOOKS LIKE THE DEKU THING MIGHT NOT END UP WORKING OUT. WHAT IF WE JUST, YOU KNOW, MIRIO

welp. if anyone needs me. I’ll be in my room crying over fictional characters

Chapter 361

QUICKLY NOW! WHILE HE’S DISTRACTED REMEMBERING HOW HE USED TO BE CUTE AND NOT-EVIL!!

why do I feel like Mirio also got the strange, fleeting impression that he was talking to someone else other than TomurAFO for a moment there? he looks like he’s WEIRDED OUT AS ALL FUCK, but also genuinely sorry for offending him lol

JEANIST IS STANDING UP AND TRYING TO DISTRACT TOMURAFO TO PROTECT KACCHAN, I AM YET AGAIN AWASH IN FEELINGS

I know I sound like a broken record here but Tamaki, not allowed to die, etc. etc. just so we’re clear Horikoshi. I don’t trust you to remember!!

WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY FEED THIS KID BEFORE THEY WENT INTO BATTLE OMFG!!!!!!!

WHAT A TERRIFYING THING TO BEHOLD. I DON’T SEE HOW THIS IS GOING TO DO FUCKALL AGAINST TOMURAFO NO MATTER HOW EXCITED THEY ARE ABOUT IT, BUT EVEN SO, GODDAMN

Chapter 362

oh my GOD WHY DOES MY HEART ALREADY HURT SO MUCH aaaaugh I’m not going to survive this am I. Kacchan we’ll die together

did he already know?! NOBODY FUCKING TOLD ME HE ALREADY KNEW?? HE KNEW HOW IT WOULD END, AND HE WENT WILLINGLY. THE SACRIFICE PLAY, oh my god, my heart is pieces

Jeanist’s eyes are so wide and he’s using his quirk and telling Katsuki to stop. he knows. what tipped you off. was it the “take care of everyone” while standing up with sudden terrifying purpose even though he’s already half-dead. was it that. it was that wasn’t it

I AM SO NOT FINE RIGHT NOW IT’S UNBELIEVABLE

that’s it. it’s over. Horikoshi’s won. it’s all fucking over we never stood a fucking chance in hell

Kacchan’s face, when he’s not scrunching it up in a glare, or a frown, or grinning like a homicidal maniac, never ceases to just effortlessly slip past every last one of my defenses. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he just looks so freaking young. like the schoolboy he in fact is. far, far too young to be caught up in a war and facing his own imminent death

seeing him like this now, in his own mental landscape, where he’s free to be himself, and seeing how much of a difference it makes in his demeanor almost immediately, just hits me real fucking hard. he was just way too hard on himself. and he never let himself ask for the autograph because he never felt like he fully earned it, and now it’s too late (or so he thinks), and just. guh

Kacchan dying with that much regret in his heart is not fucking okay and I wanna fight a man about it even though it didn’t even actually wind up happening sob

I love, and hate, that every single other hero there actually did try to stop it. they just weren’t fast enough. god

PUTTING HIS PARENTS THERE WAS A DICK MOVE ON HORIKOSHI’S PART. OH HELLO BAKUFAM HOW ARE YOU, AND BY THE WAY, YOUR CHILD JUST DIED. WHAT A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN

[destinygoldenstar]

(Context: Zane has died for the dozenth time, but this time he wrote a will and testament for his family)

Wu: As the master of Zane’s estate, I have been empowered to read Zane’s last will and testament.

Kai: Well get on with it, the bars open soon.

Jay: Oh poor Zane! 😭

Nya: There there Jay…

Lloyd: FSM, how predictably boring.

Cole: I’ve never worked for a kinder ninjroid.

Wu: If we are all seated, I shall proceed with the reading.

Lloyd: I knew it.

Kai: *snicker*

Wu: “I, Zane Julien, being of sound, mind, and body-“

Kai: That’s a laugh! 😆

Wu: “Do hereby divide up my considerable estate as follows: To my overly emotional brother Jay-“

Jay: 😭

Nya: Jay dear, he’s talking about us.

Jay: Oh.

Wu: “Who grubbed with his girlfriend Nya, grubbed for everything they could get from me and then cried crocodile tears when I needed sympathy…”

Jay: What?

Wu: “To Jay, I leave… A BOOT TO THE HEAD.”

Jay: A WHAT-?!

🥾

Jay: OW!!

Nya: Jay, are you okay?!

Wu: “And another boot to his wimpy girlfriend Nya.”

🥾

Nya: OW!

Kai: 😂

Jay: This is an outrage!

Wu: “Ah, but still, you are my friend. You’ve both admired my veichle collection and since I no longer need it-“

Jay: Oh, Zane! He’s too kind!

Wu: “I bequeath, ANOTHER boot to the head.”

Jay: Wha-?!

🥾

Kai: 😂

Wu: “And one more for the girl.”

🥾

Nya: OW!

Wu: “Next to my hot headed brother…”

Kai: Hey I don’t want no boot to the head!

Wu: “To dear Kai whose never chilled a day in his depressing life-“

Kai: I’m covering up my head!

Wu: “I leave my wine cellar and three crates of the finest bacon.”

Kai: …really?

Wu: “And a boot to the head.”

🥾

Wu: “And another for Jay and the girl.”

🥾

🥾

Wu: “Next, to my know it all brother Lloyd-“

Lloyd: This is so predictable.

Wu: "-I leave a boot to the head."

🥾

Lloyd: I knew it...

Wu: "And one for Jay and the girl."

🥾

🥾

Wu: "And now to Cole..."

Cole: Wha-?! I-I don't want nothing...

Wu: "Who took care of me faithfully these many, many years, who cared, made me laugh, shared some cake..."

Cole: Aw! I didn't mind!

Wu: "To Cole, I bequeath... a boot to the head."

🥾

Wu: "And one for Jay and the girl."

🥾

🥾

Wu: "And so, to my falcon companion, I leave my entire vast-boot to the head."

🥾

Wu: "And finally, to my sensei who has helped me on this will, I leave not a boot to the head, but a rabid ice devil to be placed in his trousers-?!"

❄️

Wu: 🥶UGH OH HAH HAH HAH And-and-"And I leave my entire estate of ten million dollars to the Formlings so they can afford to live somewhere warmer!"

Nya: ...is that it?

Lloyd: That's it?

Kai: That's disgraceful!

Wu: There's one last thing for everyone... 😓

Kai: Cover your heads everybody!

Wu: "I leave everyone a lifetime supply of ice cream."

Nya: ...ice cream?

Kai: Ice cream?

Lloyd: Ice cream? That's all?

Wu: That's all.

Cole: But what flavor is it?

Wu: BOOT TO THE HEAD!

🥾

🥾

🥾

🥾

🥾

Based on The Frantic's "Boot To The Head" skit. I replaced some of the dialogue to make sense for the Ninjago world and characters. Look up the original skit, it's one of my favorites.

I have to wonder, if you've died multiple times and always came back, what would do to take advantage of that? Would you too troll your family?

[c0ffinshit]

Hello, You. (Dexter Morgan x Stalker!Reader) PROLOGUE

a/n: hello, you. (get it? hehe). ANYWAYS sorry i've been gone for a while. i've literally been depressed for like months but I'M OKAY NOW. i promise. so, in honor of my mental health being good now, i wrote this story about a reader who REALLY needs to see a doctor. word count: 1,466 warnings: dead dove: do not eat, mentions of attempted rape (and rape in general), assault, borderline psychopath reader, stalking, like one mention of abortion, joe goldberg core

Hello, you. Dexter Morgan, you sick and beautiful freak of nature. I know what you’ve done. I’ll stay quiet for now since I’m such a good girlfriend. Well, about the girlfriend part. You don’t know yet. But you will soon, my love.

I would tell you how long I’ve been following you, but I fear it would make you more likely to run the other way. But the thing about that is I don’t want you gone yet. You don’t know yet that you desire me to. The same way I enjoy and crave you.

Ever since Rita died, your life has been fading colors, Dexter. You lack a desire, a need to kill, and feel that release. And I understand that better than anyone. Sure, the context may differ for us, but it always leads down the same path. You don’t have that drive, but I do. And more importantly, I want to give you that purpose you feel you lack. I’ve done everything to get your eyes to meet mine, but everything never works. It’s like I’m some piece of glass you can ignore. You want to look past me, Dexter, but I find that incredibly flustering when I’m standing there. I’ve quit jobs at places frequently and wore heavy makeup and ugly clothes, all for you. You can’t ignore me forever, Dexter.

Now I sit in a nearly empty store, just for you. It’s like I said, you can’t ignore me for long.

The store is bland and uninteresting, a place I would never expect you to be. Of course, this is where you’ll see me finally. You wouldn’t be able to unsee me. I’ve dyed my hair and changed my appearance. It’ll be hard to recognize me of the changes I’ve made. I know you’ll think: I’ve seen this girl before, but I can’t place where. But the truth is that you’ve noticed me in everything your eyes have touched. At supermarkets and malls, where I just watch you and your children enjoy a day out together. Then, your wife was murdered brutally by the Trinity Killer. Now, did I have connections to the Trinity Killer to cause her death? No, unfortunately. The death of your wife was still all him. But I quickly struck when I knew it was my time to shine. The children, not including Harrison, were finally gone. Now that I can manage. You, Harrison, and I could finally be the perfect family together.

But you had to make things complicated. First, it was Lila West. Now, I don’t like cheaters, Dexter. But here’s the thing about that. It's hard to compare all of your actions and say that cheating on your wife is the worst of them.

She was a serial arsonist. Lila didn’t understand anything about you, but she was good at taking care of your so-called addiction to heroin. You told her what she wanted to comprehend. Lila tried to save you when you were unsavable in her eyes. She wanted to save the unsavable.

Next thing you know, she’s off to France after almost killing you and Rita’s children in a house fire. She ran from you when you didn’t choose her over your wife. Pathetic, honestly. As much as I can say that I would do the same, I would be wrong. Dexter, I’ve known you for years now. We were coming up on our fourth year together. My fourth year in your life without you knowing of my existence.

Then that girl came into your life. What’s her name?

Oh, right, Lumen—the poor girl from Minnesota who sweetly begged for your help in the killing of her rapists. As much as she got in my way, I will admit, I did like her for you.

If I failed to exist, you would've destined to be with her. How funny fate works, though, since she left your sight in the blink of an eye. Was that my doing? For the most part, it was all her. Lucky me that I didn’t have to do anything before she told you that her dark passenger had left her and how she finally managed to heal from the torment. It's funny how someone so tortured by her past could move on so quickly, unlike you, who seems forever stuck in that cargo container.

My point is every girl in your life has left you in some capacity.

And the only male figure in your life failed you. I, however, understand that you don’t need saving or fixing. Killing is a part of you. Harry made that very clear to you. He tried to save you by shaping you into a hero. But as we both know, that didn’t last very long.

Now you’re here in Iron Lake, New York. Ten years clear from killings. I’m sitting outside the homely yet bland store, waiting for you to leave. Yes, I plan to follow you home. But I have a good reason. Tonight’s the night I tell you of the accident you saved me from, how you caught the man that could’ve killed me that very night. You rescued me by slaughtering him.

You probably don’t remember that night. I don’t blame you for that. It was just another kill for you. But allow me to enlighten you.

It was when you were still in Miami, November 1st, about nine at night.

I was leaving a bar after another sad night alone. A man follows me out of the bar. I can’t remember his name or his face. You would be better at recognizing his name and his face than me. All I do recall is someone grabbing me as I left, pulling me into an alley. His hand covered my screams, his other holding a hunting knife to my throat.

"Shut the fuck up, or this goes straight through your fucking neck." The man threatened, pressing the knife deeper into my neck.

I’d be powerless my whole life, always a second choice, but I never pled for what happened to me. But I don’t blame him for what he targeted me—a vulnerable young woman leaving a bar in early November. It’s a recipe for murder.

My voice tries to scream out more, my body thrashing against his. The man's grip moves away from my mouth, moving down my body. I feel tears swell in my eyes as his hand pulls up my skirt and pulls down my panties. I knew where this was going, and I was terrified. I couldn’t afford a police investigation or an abortion. I would have to carry the baby, that fucking rape baby.

Suddenly, the knife he was holding drops out of his hand. His threatening pleas of my silence turn hushed as I hear his body thud against the pavement. The loose rocks and debris scratch against his body as you drag him away. My eyes are shut tight, too scared to open them. But I knew it was you, the Bay Harbor Butcher. Things like this were happening all over the city. Stories of your heroism, saving all walks of life. You were a hero, never the villain. I just never thought it would happen to me.

The dragging briefly turns shushed as I feel your eyes on me. "Go. Run far." You say in a hushed tone.

My eyes shoot open, and it feels like my feet think for me. I do as you say. I ran, and I ran fast. My feet and lungs held my body as upright as they could. Finally, I reached a gas station near my apartment before I became tired. I ran five miles the night, just on adrenaline alone.

That’s how you saved my life that night, Dexter. Three words. You had given me a purpose and something to fight for.

It wasn’t hard to find you after that. I searched in forums across the internet, talking of this Bay Harbor Butcher persona of yours. Of course, I never encountered you on any of those, which I should’ve figured. So, my search efforts had become ten times harder. So, I did what any logical person would do and found patterns within your murders, all criminals who either went under the radar or were recently released. You try to save the people, like some sick and twisted Batman. When, if anything, you follow closer to Bateman than the caped crusader. I did what a cop or detective couldn’t have done in a year. After all that time and effort, I found your name and shady Iron Lake cabin: Dexter Morgan, a man in the countryside with a girlfriend who's a cop. Shame for her since she won’t live to hear my declaration. But even if she does, she won’t like what she hears.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hii!

Can I request an Aemond Targaryen x Reader fic where reader is from some other noble house(preferably a dark haired one, but anything is fine) and catches his eye? Like he thinks she is really pretty and attractive and Aegon kinda doesn't notice his brother's interest and flirts with her, and being a social butterfly, she flirts back, though it doesn't mean anything.

Aemond feels insecure but then he observes her and notices she is like that with everyone so he carefully approaches her, leaving her stunned, because she has never met someone that beautiful? He takes it in the wrong way, but then she shyly assures him that it is not what he thinks and tells him the truth?

lots of comfort for my war criminal poor little meow meow?

thank you!

(Sorry I am being to specific, feel free to modify the idea as you wish)

A Wolf Amongst Dragons

Hi! So this is my first time writing for Aemond, I hope it’s ok. I think I did maybe a little bit off the request you asked for, so if you want me to change things, or write a new request for you, I’m happy to do so. I think I could’ve upped the comfort and Aemond’s point of view of things.

Sorry, it’s a bit long, especially at the beginning, but I felt like it was important to add for clarity. Just for some context, I made it a Stark reader, the sister of Cregan Stark, to kinda help with the plot. The Starks, at least before Ned, weren’t as noble I’d say, so I’m kinda framing the reader as on the good side, but still with a bit of cunningness and antihero energy, which I think fits for Aemond, he’s also kinda in that in between area. 

I’m mentioning characters from the book, and then also ones briefly mentioned in the last episode of HOTD. You don’t need to know anything from the books, I’m just bullshitting all of this for this fic, so sorry if anything doesn’t make sense. I’m not basing this off any particular plotpoint, but it's based around the time Aegon is crowned King, and Rhaenyra is looking to the other Lords for support. Anyways, I hope you like it, let me know what you think!

(Warnings: swearing, insecurities, mentions of war, aegon being creepy, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You walked alongside with your brother, Cregan, speaking in hushed whispers as you navigated the halls. It was late into the night, and the castle slept soundly. He had barely given you any time to get dressed before he sent a collection of handmaidens into your room, who swiftly packed up your necessities and brought them to a carriage. In your confusion, you went to find him, only to be dragged by the wrist out into the cold, headed for the stables.

Cregan explained to you that the Maester brought him news of Lucerys Targaryen, who had been killed the evening before, seemingly by Vhagar, the younger Prince’s dragon. Lord Baratheon had immediately sent the news to their allies, still remaining neutral for the time being.

House Targaryen was now at war, dividing the kingdom. House Stark, never one to break an oath, was to receive Jacaerys Targaryen, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen’s first born son and heir. Winterfell was to play a key role in the following weeks, and Cregan had decided you were to leave, and head for King’s Landing. He had already sent a raven, alerting King Aegon of your impending arrival. He gave you no time to explain himself, tugging you along.

“Brother, I don’t understand! Why are you sending me away?”

Cregan didn’t slow his pace. “Because! Father would roll in his grave if he thought one of my first acts as Lord of Winterfell was to keep you directly in the path of harm's way.”

You caught his wrist, planting your feet and stopping his advance. Cregan turned to you, eyes sharp as he met yours. You, after all being your Father’s daughter, didn’t shrink under the pressure. Instead, you stood tall, demanding an answer.

“Explain, right now, or I am turning back. You can’t send me to the capital! The very people you’re saying killed Lucerys are there. You’ve heard the whispers about Aegon’s pervasive pleasures. Do you really think that usurper of a King would gladly welcome a member of a house pledged to the rightful Queen?”

“They don’t know our position–”

“Spare me, brother,” you interrupted. “I know you’re backing Rhaenyra, the whole realm knows it. Have you ever known a Stark to break an oath? We’re too noble to do the wrong thing. Gods only know why we’ve all collectively decided to put the men in charge, who can’t cast away their precious pride and honor. You’d think living up here in the cold would’ve hardened your resolve more, made you learn to chip away at the moral high ground you’re so content to stand on.”

Cregan’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward, catching you off guard. He looked you straight in the eye, finally pulling his wrist from your grip. 

“I would never risk your safety, sister. Don’t mistake my unusual choices for foolishness. I’d break every oath I’ve ever made if it meant keeping you and our house safe.”

You kept walking towards the stable, seeing that your efforts to stay were most likely futile, and you might as well accept your fate with a semblance of grace. 

“Then explain it to me,” you scoffed. “What’s your big plan?”

You couldn’t see Cregan’s face, as you were walking ahead of him, but you could feel him roll his eyes. 

“How kind of you to finally shut your mouth and give me the floor, sister.”

You groaned, waiting for him to continue. He let out a chuckle, before catching up with you to meet your stride, now walking alongside you. He continued explaining. 

“You have the right idea. Why send you if they think we’ll back Rhaenyra as Queen? Because they don’t know that, not for sure. However, if we keep you here, and all of the heirs here, it will certainly seem like it. Aegon will–”

“You mean Hightower? You know this must be his doing,” you interrupted. 

“Yes, that may be so, but he’ll deliver Aegon’s terms either way. The King will be expecting all the houses to be making a decision soon. He knows Rhaenyra will have sent word out to all the Lord’s who swore oaths to back her during her coronation while King Viserys was alive. I guarantee those gutless southern Lord’s have already declared for the King, but the North won’t be so easy to gain. Lord Baratheon said they sent Prince Aemond to deliver terms, along with a marriage pact, should they choose to back the King. That is a desperate act. Bold, but desperate. I expect something for us will be coming along soon as well. We’re going to beat them to it.”

You nodded, slowly understanding. “And what does this have to do with me? What is my purpose in all of this?” 

“We will receive Jacaerys, just as the King expects we would. But we’re sending you as an envoy of our house, to receive their terms in person. As much as I hate to admit it, you are a much more likable person than I.”

You laughed. “Yes, although I suppose that it is partially credited to me being a woman. A pretty face is the least the Gods could do for us in a world like this. We might as well learn to use it to our advantage.”

“So you do have some intellect rolling around in that brain of yours, glad to see you’ve finally caught up.”

Cregan dodged your attacks, narrowly missing a slap to the face, chuckling as he watched you nearly trip over the hem of your skirts. “Don’t do that in front of the King.”

“Oh, piss off. Get on with it, it’s freezing out here.”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely attacked,” Cregan continued, ignoring your glares.

“You’ll charm the court. As long as you are a guest of the Crown, especially with Queen Alicent likely still largely in control, you will not be harmed. They may be usupers, but they haven’t stooped so low as to betray and kill allies. So here’s what you do. You are to play the fool, as if you hardly understand what’s at stake. Don’t actually make a fool of yourself, but try to act passive. Uninterested in the fickle politics of war. You won’t be perceived as a threat, on the contrary, actually. The Crown may actually believe that you’re easily manipulated, and a good way to get to me and my backing for the war effort. You will be out of harm's way from here, and you won’t be harmed there, since you’re of some use to them. Additionally, you may be of some use to me. If you are able to, without risking exposure, write to me about what you see and hear, anything that will be helpful. I trust you’ll be discreet in the matter. Do you think you can do all of that?”

You finally reached the carriage, all packed with your belongings, along with two horses, and a squire acting as a driver. It was the best your brother could muster in the few hours he had to come up with a halfway decent plan. 

You turned to Cregan, grinning. 

“I must say, brother, I am quite impressed. One would think you almost have the mind of a woman, coming up with a plan like that. You didn’t even need my help.”

He playfully shoved you, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright, stop it. I may have taken a page or two from your book, and tried to think how I thought you would. Hate to admit it, but it actually was quite useful.” 

You grinned wider, pleased with his praise, and he groaned, before pulling you into his arms to shut you up. 

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N. This is serious. We cannot afford to mess this up. Please be careful, and please, for my own sanity, try your best to not get killed. Or worse, engaged.”

You let out a chuckle, but it was weak, you suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. You wrapped your arms around your brother’s waist, giving him a tight squeeze. You swallowed your emotion as he held you for a moment, before letting you go and helping you up into the carriage. 

“I believe in you, sister. You can do this. I’m sorry it came down to it, but it's for the best. We’ll see each other again soon enough. I love you.”

You nodded, letting him close the carriage door. You stuck your head out the window, waving and calling out. “I love you! Please be careful. Don’t make me come back here and kick your ass for getting yourself in trouble. Be smart, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You could hear his soft laughter, but the carriage had gone too far to warrant a response from him. He just nodded, blowing you a kiss, before turning around and heading back into the gates of Winterfell. 

You settled into your seat, biting back emotion. You willed yourself not to cry, determined to make this journey a success, not only for you, but for your brother, for your house, and for the realm. 

—

It was a grueling journey, not stopping more than a handful of times for provisions, and having the carriage run throughout the night, but you had made it from Winterfell to King’s Landing in just over a week. 

It took the better part of the first day to have an audience with the King. A guard that had been introduced to you as Ser Criston led you through the castle halls after you had settled in, bringing you to meet the King. He led you to the Great Hall, opening the doors and allowing you to step in first. 

“I present the Lady Y/N of House Stark, sister of Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. She is here on behalf of her house.”

You tried to keep your head held high, and your face stoic, while Ser Criston announced your arrival, but as you glanced around the room, you couldn’t fight the uneasiness settling in your stomach. 

The Iron Throne was empty. 

The King was nowhere to be found. Instead, to the left side of the throne, sat a woman in a green dress, who you could only assume to be Alicent Hightower, the Queen Mother. On the right side of the throne stood an older man, who you pieced together as Otto Hightower, father of Alicent, and Hand of the King. 

The rest of the Great Hall, except for a few Kingsguard, was empty. Neither the Prince or the King were in attendance, or the Princess who was now called Queen. Not that you expected to meet the entire family, especially on the first day, but you were told your audience was specifically to be with the King, which is what you spent the better part of a week alone in a carriage preparing for. The King’s Mother and Grandfather was not what you were expecting. 

“Come forth, Lady Y/N, don’t be shy. Ser Criston, assist her down the steps, if you will.”

Otto gave Ser Criston a command, and Ser Criston held out his arm for you, which you cautiously took. He guided you down the steps, all the way across the Throne Room, leaving you in front of the steps that led to the Iron Throne. 

You looked at the throne in wonder. You had heard stories of the chairs creation, how a thousand swords had been melted down and fashioned together to create a throne fit for a King. You had seen illustrations of it in books the Septa’s back home made you read as a child, but they paled in comparison to seeing them in person. 

“Would you like to take a closer look, My Lady? I see you’ve taken an interest in the throne,” an unfamiliar voice called out, dragging you from your thoughts. 

You turned to see the King himself, Aegon, entering the room from a back corridor. Your eyes widened as you took him in, and you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to throw up. This was going to be harder than you anticipated.

“Your Grace,” you curtsied, trying to keep your composure. “It’s an honor. Thank you for agreeing to an audience with me on behalf of House Stark, it’s such a pleasure.”

You mentally cursed yourself for sucking up to such a pompous ass of a King, but as your brother said, you had to play the part. And if you were going to play the part, you were going to commit to the role. Your words seemed to be enough to charm him, making him smile as he approached you. 

“The pleasure is all mine, My Lady,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. You internally groaned, but kept a fake smile plastered on your face. You registered two more people entering from the corridor, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off the King’s.

“You must tell me, how are you liking the city? I confess, I’ve never seen Winterfell myself. I’m not fit for the cold, I’m afraid.” 

“I’m enjoying myself, thank you for asking. I am especially enjoying not having to wear a winter coat. They’re dreadfully heavy.”

Aegon looked you up and down, grinning. “Yes, I doubt that coat is doing you any favors. I can say with the utmost confidence that I prefer you without it.”

You felt sick to your stomach under his gaze, but you managed a giggle, feigning over his words. “You flatter me, Your Grace. You’re too kind.”

“Such a lovely Lady as yourself deserves some flattery. You’re welcome here, My Lady. Enjoy your stay. I expect you to come to me specifically if you need anything. Anything, just ask, and if it is within my power, it’s yours. I can be quite persuasive when it comes to getting things I want.”

You heard a scoff off to the side of the room, and you spared a glance to see the younger Targaryen, Prince Aemond. 

You had heard tales of him and his appearance. A ghastly scar, an eyepatch fit for a pirate, with a personality that mimicked that of his dragon. You only glanced briefly, but from what you saw, the accounts of him were entirely wrong. He was quite handsome, at least from the distance and quick glance you viewed of him. 

Aegon ignored his brother's antics, giving you another warm smile, before excusing himself. Half the Kingsguard followed him out, the rest hanging back for the remaining family. The now Queen, Helaena, walked up to you, looking at you quizzically. 

“A wolf amongst dragons,” she murmured. “A seer and a watcher. The waltz of frosts and flames.”

She spared a glance at her brother, Aemond, before turning back to you. 

You smiled at her words, glad to be around an inquizical mind. You got the feeling that the Queen’s intelligence was dismissed as an oddity, underappreciated and neglected.

“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure. You’re as beautiful as the tales tell.”

The Queen’s cheeks flushed. “Please, call me Helaena. I do prefer it.”

“As you wish, Helaena,” you nodded. “But I must say, ‘Queen’ has a nice ring to it when it’s referring to you. I do hope you come to see that.”

You snuck a glance at Otto and Alicent, who seemed to be exchanging amused glances. Whether you had peaked their interest, or you actually managed to impress them, it didn’t matter. What mattered is that you’d successfully somewhat charmed them, which would work to your advantage for the following days when you'd try to report back to your brother. 

—

You spent the following days mostly around Helaena, who was surprisingly delightful to be around. Her storytelling abilities fascinated you. She often murmured variations of what she had first said in the throne room to you, about a wolf amongst dragons. It didn’t take much for you to figure out she was referring to your presence in the castle. What did strike you as odd was her wording of “the waltz of frosts and flames,” but you found that questioning her hardly ever resulted in a clear answer.

You also spent a lot of time with Alicent, who seemed to follow wherever her children went. More often than not, though, she was with Aegon, who you tried to avoid like the plague. You did your duty of making small talk, trying to keep his interest in you positive, but his advances on you were getting harder and harder to ignore. 

In truth, the only member of the family you rarely saw was Aemond. Although, that was not entirely true. You actually saw a good deal of each other in passing, but words were hardly exchanged, rather than stolen glances. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you couldn’t get yourself to look at him full on for long. It appeared he was the same, as he’d turn his head away from you often when you looked his way. 

You spent one evening with Helaena, going on a walk around the courtyard. She took you to meet her dragon, Dreamfyre. On the way back, you saw Aemond, soaring through the sky on the back of Vhagar, before finally landing. You watched him from a distance as he dismounted, heading into the castle. 

Helaena cleared her throat, bringing you out of your thoughts. “You look at my brother quite a lot, you know.”

You quickly turned to her. “What? Aemond?”

“I suppose it’s normal. He does the same to you.”

She spoke like it was the most nonchalant thing in the world, not even bothering to turn to you as she talked.

“I don’t understand,” you shook your head.

“I’ve hardly seen the two of you speak, but I see the two of you stare. The day you arrived, I came in with Aemond. You were speaking to Aegon, so I assume you didn’t notice us come in. Aemond looked at you differently than I’ve ever seen him look at someone. You’ve certainly captured his attention. It’s clear he thinks you're beautiful.” 

“Is he not betrothed?” You asked, seeming to recall your brother mentioning a marriage pact with Lord Baratheon. 

“Not to my knowledge. Mother is very particular about him. I suspect she would want to personally approve a match for him. My brother isn’t suited for the average Lady. Mother will want someone who knows how to be with him.”

Your brows furrowed. “So, what did you notice? The day I arrived, I mean. How does he look at me differently than any other woman?”

Helaena pondered the thought for a moment. “You’re a wolf amongst dragons. That may have already been enough for him, but it’s not all. He’s a watcher. He prefers the corner of a room, rather than being the center of attention, unlike my husband. He watches people, like he’s analyzing them.” 

You nodded, slowly understanding. “What does that have to do with me?”

“You do the same. You’re a seer. You see people for who they are, not for who they want you to see. I know you saw through Aegon’s words the day you arrived. You see him for what he is. And I think you see Aemond for what he is. I think his fascination is in your ability to do that.”

“Truthfully, I don’t think I see the Prince for what he is. I haven’t been close to him for long enough to really know.”

Helaena offered a small smile, turning to head back for the castle. “I think you’ll see the waltz begin soon, Y/N. It’s already started for him.”

—

Helaena was right. You saw more and more of the Prince, seeming to collide paths with him frequently, if only for a fleeting moment. You found yourself stuck on him, and your thoughts often drifted to him. It puzzled you, what his fascination with you was, and you wondered what he was thinking about when he saw you. He was one of the few men you couldn’t immediately get an accurate reading on, and it troubled you. 

You began finding reasons to cross paths with Aemond, just so you’d have a few extra seconds to try and figure him out. You still rarely spoke to each other, only in passing, or in group settings with other members of the family. 

It was becoming a tedious process, for the both of you, although you were unaware of his own ambitions towards you. One of you was going to cave and approach the other, it was bound to happen. It turned out to be Aemond who pushed the boundary. 

One evening, after dinner, you took a walk to the courtyard. You sat, watching the stars, when you heard a voice you knew all too well. 

“Looking at the stars, My Lady?”

You quickly turned around, shocked to see that he actually approached you. You cleared your throat, nodding. 

“Yes. Are you familiar with any, My Prince?”

He nodded, moving to stand beside where you were sitting. 

“I’ve studied them quite a lot, actually. May I?”

You nodded, scooting over to make room, and he took his place beside you. You were tense, not used to being that close to him. He pointed up into the night sky at a cluster of stars. 

“That’s the constellation Aquila. It’s an eagle. See the V shape? That’s the head. Where it expands and the line of stars that goes down is its wings.”

You nodded, but you weren’t even looking at the sky. You were taking it as your chance to get a good look at him, for what felt like the first time. 

His features were sharp, those of a royal. His cheekbones were prominent, and he had a strong jaw. Despite the hardness of his face, he still had a soft elegance to him. His hair was shining under the moonlight, almost reflecting silver. The scar covering his eye was now a faded white line, with the faintest hints of pink in the cracks of it. It was one thing to possess one or two of those traits, as the Targaryens often did. But his features were striking, each complimenting the next. 

In this light under the stars, he was nearly ethereal.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him, because he turned to meet your eyes, catching you staring. 

“My Lady?”

You quickly shook your head, clearing your throat. “I’m so sorry, that was rude of me. I got distracted.” 

He looks unsure of himself, cocking his head to the side. “By what?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, unsure of what to say. “You? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like you before. Not very many people look like you.”

He turns his head at your words, like he’s trying to shield his face from your view. His shoulders slump, and he looks down at his lap, and you know you’ve said something wrong. 

“It’s the scar,” he finally says. “Isn’t it? The Gods must’ve found it amusing, adding it to the collection of some rather unappealing features. It’s not pretty, I know. Believe me, I know.”

Your breath hitched, and you're unsure of how he could’ve twisted your words into knots so tight. You wondered what kind of torment he could have possibly endured to consider the scar a punishment from the Gods, as if the rest of him wasn’t already punishment enough.

“You’ve misunderstood me, My Prince, that isn’t what I meant at all–”

“Savor your words,” he interrupts. “I don’t need you to spare my feelings.”

He stands up brushing himself off. “Goodnight, My Lady.”

“Wait,” you start, trying to get up before he dashes off somewhere. You can see him, looking for the best escape route, like a cornered animal. You’re muttering apologies, and he’s brushing them off, trying to find a way to leave you. He turns to go.

“Wait!” You catch his wrist, and you can feel his body go rigid. But he stops in his tracks, slowly turning back around. His full attention is on you, and you're afraid you’ll crumble under the pressure of trying to find the right words to say. 

“Please sit back down,” you ask, pleading with him. He looks unsure, like he’s seconds from saying no.

“Please, Aemond.”

That’s enough to get his resolve to soften, and he finally relents. He lets you lead him back over to the spot where you were sitting. You take a seat, and look up at him expectantly, until he finally relents. He takes his place beside you, quiet. 

“You misunderstood me, Aemond. I meant no offense, and I’m sorry if it came off that way.”

He’s quiet, not meeting your eyes, seemingly very interested in his lap. He doesn’t stop you, though, and you take it as your cue to proceed.

“You know, sometimes I find it hard to look at you.”

You can see the slightest hint of a flinch at your words, and you’re quick to recover.

“I find it hard, because when I look at you, I’m quite literally rendered speechless, and that’s a rare occurrence for me. You just…you have such striking features.”

You watch him as you speak, and it's almost as if you can see the gears turning in his head. 

“I know it comes with being a Targaryen. The silver hair, the sharp features, you all look like royalty without even trying. But you…you’re more. You’ve got this etherality about you, and I can’t quite place why that is.”

You’re scanning his face now, looking at all the little nooks and crannies that you’ve somehow just now noticed. 

“And your scar, it's a part of you. There’s no shame in it, Aemond. It’s proof you fought a battle, and won. Wear it with pride. I don’t know what people have said to you about it, or what you’ve been told over the years, but they’re wrong. Every single one of them. They’re wrong.”

You almost don’t do it, but you can’t stop yourself, reaching a hand up slowly to cup his cheek. He’s still, it being his turn to watch your face now. He’s scanning for disgust, or pity, or any other emotion that he thinks will make you think less of him. 

But then you’re running a thumb across his cheekbone. And you're ghosting a finger down his scar. You’re being so gentle and careful with him, and you have nothing but adoration and genuine awe on your face as you take in his appearance, like you’re really seeing him for the first time. You could look at him for hours, and not grow tired of it.

And he’s melting. 

You reach up to tuck a stray strand of silver hair behind his ear.

“You’re beautiful, Aemond. Don’t let anyone make you feel any different. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before.”

You can tell nobody has ever talked to him like this, or been this genuine with him, and he doesn’t know what to do or say. 

“What you said, about the constellation. It’s fascinating, that out of all the stars in the sky, you picked the eagle. The watcher. That’s what you are. Funny, how I’m just now seeing it for the first time. It feels like I'm really looking at you for the first time, too.”

“It seems the Gods have reconsidered,” he says, finally looking at you, with pink cheeks and a small smile on his face. “Or, rather, Helaena was right.”

“About what, My Prince?” You smile, unable to stop yourself when his smile is so pretty.

“The waltz, My Lady. It really has started. And it only took a couple stars.”

—

A/N - Hi! I hope this wasn’t shit, I feel like I started off strong and it got weaker, but I’m still figuring out how to write for Aemond, so bare with me. Let me know what you thought :)

[scarabtea]

I really don’t get into tumblr discourse or whatever and I intend to keep it that way but I’m sleep deprived and I’ve been seeing some shit so bear with me, but I think there’s a real… callous attitude with regards to how CERTAIN Scream fans will interact with Billy x Stu content bc they don’t like gay people getting in the way of their ‘favourable straight relationships’ and it really shows. you do not HAVE to like or interact w/ stuilly, and I think people have the right to produce any other ship media they want, but I’ve seen this weird trend with these certain people pushing their straight content into places where it really shouldn’t be - and where it’s honestly obnoxious for it to be, if that makes any sense.

I mean I had a whole endless draft abt this which I decided will never see the light of day because I can’t word my thoughts well enough right now but to try summarise it without going into as much detail:

a homosexual couple written by a gay screenwriter, inspired by real gay people, would be canon if it was straight, written in the era of “don’t ask, don’t tell”, supported by both actors and costars, and all I’m saying is these certain people wouldn’t act the way they’re acting if billy loomis was a woman or something.

but apparently gay portrayals in media are only real, and only deserve respect when they’re outright announced, and no amount of clear context behind it is enough to change someone’s mind unless they had actually made love on the big screen or some shit. but also remember that outright stating a relationship is gay is ‘shoving it in the face’ of those poor people who don’t want to see it! so I guess really this content just shouldn’t exist according to them.

and again this is a very specific subset of person that I’m getting at here. I don’t care if you make x reader content, don’t care if you do self inserts, this is aimed at a VERY particular type of person. I have a feeling maybe one or two of my followers will actually understand what I am blabbering about, bc if you know what I mean then you KNOW.

[tallerthantale]

What Does Aziraphale Actually Believe, Part 6: Philosophy Time

This is a series of my takes on what Aziraphale believes through the timeline of the show. It is all my personal interpretation, and I am happy to hear others. You don’t need to read them all in order, but know that I am coming from a perspective on Aziraphale’s machinations that can be difficult for people without a psychology background to follow without the first two as a primer. The quick version is that Aziraphale has a set of beliefs that exist in some form or another within his mind. However, at any given moment, only some of them exist ‘with awareness’ or as I am putting it here, conscious!Aziraphale only has access to the beliefs that the rest of his mind, veil!Aziraphale, allows him to know about. The context of the moment will determine what lives on the surface and what stays buried behind the veil, whatever arrangement best prevents a threat to Aziraphale’s sense of self and makes whatever he is inclined to do feel right.

This post finishes the minisode and flashback content, starting from 1800's Edinburgh through to the 1960's bit. There is a lot of attention given to how Aziraphale conceptualises good and evil, and the roles of angels, demons, and humans within the divine system. About 3k words.

A Spot of Body Snatch

Some juicy bits of philosophy show up in the Edinburgh flashback. While Aziraphale has been able to disagree with the archangels, or think that they are misguided about God’s will, the general moral esthetics of what heaven is supposed to represent have largely been left intact. The idea is you put a bunch of people out in the world, you see who does the good things and who does the bad things, and you reward and punish accordingly. Aziraphale still believes that is a component of the ineffable plan, and advocates for some version of it in the modern era. At this point he thinks that it’s all going rather well, and you can easily sort the good and bad humans apart. He doesn’t look too closely, because that’s not going to help preserve his sense of self. He has been on the earth for over 5800 years at this point. His ignorance to the disadvantages of the poor is willful. See end note.

At the start of the adventure, Aziraphale believes body snatching is wicked. It is a morally bad thing to do, people who do it are morally bad. People who finance it are morally bad. This is an intuitive judgement, it feels wrong. As is commonly the case with intuitive judgements, it gets messy on the application, the devil's in the details. When he miracles the freshly dug up body into a skeleton, why does that feel right? Ostensibly the wickedness of the body snatching is the desecration of the dead. By turning the body into skeleton soup, Aziraphale has personally desecrated the dead. You could make the argument that it was a necessary evil in the name of a greater good, but Aziraphale doesn't make that argument, he claims that what he did was directly a morally good act. Why? Because it felt good to him to do it. He was sticking it to the morally bad people by making their life harder. Sometimes Aziraphale is a petty bitch like that.  

When he learns that the body snatching operation functions to alleviate human suffering, his feelings change first, then his judgement changes. After the talk with the surgeon, holding the tumour in a jar, participating in the body snatching feels like helping to relieve human suffering, therefore his involvement in it is in alignment with the ineffable plan, therefore let's go do it. It is worth noting that for all Aziraphale emphasises forgiveness in his interactions with Crowley, he doesn’t ask for it here. There are many factors involved in that, and @takeme-totheworld has some very relevant things to say on the way Aziraphale engages with forgiveness from ex-Christian perspective.

I think one of the other factors involved is that Aziraphale is pretty normalised to reshuffling his beliefs to feel better about himself, and a feature of that normalisation is not fully taking accountability when you shuffle a disavowed belief out. Veil!Aziraphale allows just enough awareness for conscious!Aziraphale to express that his previous belief was incorrect, and then it’s yeeted like that belief never existed. Accountability, apologising, asking forgiveness, all of that would require conscious!Aziraphale to retain awareness of the offending prior belief and prior action. Believing he did a bad thing before breaks his ability to believe that as an angel he is incapable of doing bad things. He doesn't need to believe the absolutist stuff all the time, but it can't coexist in conscious awareness with the knowledge that he has been wrong. It is a known problem with shame responses, they sometimes motivate us to eliminate our awareness of our actions rather than motivate us to make amends.

When Wee Morag is mortally wounded, Aziraphale decides he is going to break heaven's rules, and asserts that the thing he will do, which isn't allowed by heaven, is the right thing to do. Since Uz Aziraphale has been able to believe that the policy of the institution of heaven is wrong and has been willing to go against it. He can shuffle that belief in when needed, and then shuffle it back out to go back to his day to day believing in heaven most of the time. His inclination to break the rules to save Wee Morag is in keeping with that shuffling ability, but we can observe that he slips into it a lot more comfortably than he used to, though not as comfortably as we might like, and not fast enough to save her.

People Get a Choice

What stands out in this era is his continued attachment, just previously in the minisode, to the idea that angel = good and demon = evil. For all he is willing to believe heaven is wrong, he will not let go of categorising the angels as ‘good,’ even into the modern era. It is deeply tied to his internal understanding of his personal relationship to God as an angel, and therefore his sense of self. He knows the other angels would deliberately let Wee Morag die. But the other angels are still angels, and therefore ‘good.’ Crowley, who is working to alleviate human suffering, is ‘evil’ so long as he remains a demon. 

The exact phrasing is: "I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice."  As for Crowley being evil, yes, Aziraphale thinks Crowley is nice. Yes, he thinks Crowley is a good person. Yes, he 100% loves Crowley as he is. But Crowley’s existence is conceptually evil in the abstract through no fault of his choices. Humans can choose. Crowley can't. Aziraphale’s attachment to this point drives most of the serious conflict between them. The worst things Aziraphale says to Crowley are on this theme. So why is he so defensive of it 5800 years in? What is this position doing for him? What does believing this save him from believing instead?

What Aziraphale is protecting himself from is the existential crisis of the pointlessness of it all. He is keeping himself from believing that the entire set up of the sides of good and evil, and humanity having the choice between good and evil, is all a sham. He is protecting himself from believing that he has no side. That there cannot ever be an idealised heaven that represents good. It isn’t just unachievable, it is incoherent. That his behaviour isn’t about furthering the cause of the greater good, he’s just doing what makes himself happy and deciding that is the right thing after the fact. That his sense of what feels right is no substitute for actual ethical principles. To prevent himself from processing all that, he will believe that Crowley is ‘evil’ in the abstract. 

Aziraphale's mind likes to protect itself from responsibility. "You're an angel, I don't think you can do the wrong thing." Aziraphale grasped at straws to take that at face value from a fallen angel, but he grabbed that straw and he didn't let it go. Believing angels are inherently naturally good helps support his inclination to intuit morality. He can just let his innate angel vibes tell him what the right thing is (it’s whatever feels right to do) and he can be confident that is good, because he was an angel when he wanted to do it, and he is still an angel after having done it.

However, this is a very precarious defence for a lot of reasons. If we are working with a definition of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ that have no relationship to personality or behaviour, that’s not very reassuring. Aziraphale cant prove to himself his actions are morally good actions if his continued status as an angel is utterly unconnected to his actions. If angelic / demonic status defining celestials as good and evil is connected to actions or inclinations, how does Aziraphale parse the questionable actions of the other angels, and does he think less of Crowley? I suspect that for the most part he is generating definitions moment to moment that serve the interests of whatever else he is trying to believe at the time. Entirely abandoning the association of good/angel and evil/demon feels too much like abandoning his internal concept of God, so he won’t. Thinking Crowley is a bad person because he is a demon would be equally horrific, so he won’t do that either. He will roll through shifting definitions and avoid looking too hard at the consequences of his positions.

One option for what he can believe that I suspect has been growing stronger, is believing that God has a plan for Crowley that involves a deliberately unjust fall, to return him from later. It solves a lot of the above conflicts. He doesn’t have to consider if Crowley had a choice in becoming a demon, he doesn’t have to believe Crowley ever ‘did the wrong thing’ voluntarily while an angel, it makes it easier for him to rationalise that he is personally incapable of doing the wrong thing, it helps him rationalise his own relationship with Crowley. The only real downside is the part where Crowley would never in a million years endorse this viewpoint, and at some level Aziraphale must be aware of that because he doesn’t tend to express anything like this openly. However it very much looks to me like the missing piece that makes everything else fit. See end note.

Obviously!

Sometimes thinking Crowley's fall is part of an ineffable plan won't stop Aziraphale from being petty about Crowley's demonic status when that opinion isn't on his mind. "We may have both started out as angels, but you are fallen." It might be the rudest version of all of Aziraphale's 'holier than thou' moments, and in the context of what Crowley had likely recently been through, that was really unnecessarily mean.

Now for one of my more counter intuitive takes; Aziraphale is mean to Crowley because he puts him on a pedestal. When you believe someone is so magnificent, so perfect, so destined, you can believe nothing you do or say is capable of causing them harm. Then you can get really careless, particularly if the person you're putting on a pedestal doesn't readily show you their pain. If they are so grand, and your opinion doesn't have any value anyway, why bother considering what you say?

When asked for holy water, Aziraphale's mind goes to a suicide pill, because Aziraphale could not cope with being a demon. He’s had a lot of time to think about it now, he has come to understand that Crowley really isn’t “free to do whatever [he] want[s]” and I think he would genuinely prefer not to exist than to be in Crowley’s position. He projects his feelings about how horrible it would be for him onto Crowley, but also thinks Crowley is the stronger one, and the better one. Crowley just got back from being yanked down to hell for doing a good deed. A good deed that involved bullying Aziraphale into giving his money away, which he wouldn’t have done on his own. Crowley’s good deed for which he was likely tortured involved pressuring an angel into doing the right thing, after Aziraphale had been too slow to properly help the humans, while accurately sassing him for not understanding the impacts of poverty on humanity. It's not hard to see why Aziraphale might believe Crowley would prefer not to be a demon. There are times he makes a better angel than Aziraphale. Although to be fair, Crowley did overdo it on that hole. 

Date Night

A toast ‘to shades of grey’. Aziraphale’s choice of words, Aziraphale’s choice to make it a toast. It’s an interesting pair of choices. Aziraphale has been in the middle with Crowley for thousands of years, but this is the moment he lets himself acknowledge the value of shades of grey. What does it mean, given everything Aziraphale has already done? Aziraphale had been believing everything he had done was 100% good, he just had convoluted justifications. Now his convoluted justifications only get him as far as very light grey, and he is finally starting to make his peace with that. 

Does that mean he isn’t thinking of himself as 100% aligned with God? I think sometimes yes, but also sometimes no. The other option is that he doesn’t think God is 100% good anymore. Each version represents a massive shift. If we understand Aziraphale’s journey to being at peace with himself as a Daoist one, and I think there is a lot of subtext to that effect, Daoism doesn’t do absolutist good and evil. Things just… are. The divine isn’t a refined extreme. The Dao isn’t ‘good.’ It is. Full stop. I think Aziraphale will consider God less good more readily than he will consider himself misaligned with Her. 

Why now? Because he realised, fully into his conscious awareness, that he was in love with a demon, as a demon. Nothing else fits the toast because nothing else changed in terms of Aziraphale’s philosophical alignment. Many flashbacks have brought us new things Aziraphale is willing to do that might distance himself from the ranks of the institution of heaven. Nothing new happened on that front in 1941. Many flashbacks have shown Aziraphale having new ways he is willing to understand the human world. Nothing new happened on that front in 1941. Something shifted in the way he understands his sense of self and his relationship to God, and one of the few things that still ties back to that is the role of angels and demons in the universe. It wasn’t what he was willing to do that broke new ideological ground, it was what he was willing to feel.

That willingness to feel broke a psychological wall for Aziraphale, and I believe with that wall down he can now think of himself and Crowley as somewhat ‘human aligned’ when it comes to certain aspects of their morality. Aziraphale talks with Crowley about the shades of grey they prefer. The way the term prefer is used here implies they have options. Options implies a choice. Choice was supposed to be for people. They may not have the ability to choose their employer, but they are both choosing to be a bit grey, and now they can say it to each other out loud. I will come back to this point in a future post.

You Go Too Fast For Me

He knows he is in love with a demon, but he still isn’t ready to act on it. He says maybe one day. I think all of him wants Crowley, but not all of him wants to want a demon. I think some of the fandom doesn’t want to process this about Aziraphale, but really think about it. If Crowley was an angel rescuing him and the books in the church, then in the 60’s offering to take him anywhere he wants to go, do you really think he would still say no? There is of course a conflation between their roles on opposite sides of celestial conflict and Crowley’s metaphysical status as a demon. It's the being on opposite sides that's the problem. I don’t think Aziraphale has any sort of disgust reaction or aversion to demonic features or demonic energy. But the metaphysical status of demon is the origin of their opposite sides situation, and Aziraphale isn’t prepared to feel like that is entirely arbitrary, even if it’s part of a bigger ineffable plan. Too fast isn’t a forever no, it’s check back later. Aziraphale knows it will ‘feel right’ down the line, and I don’t think that depends on demonic status going away, just on him needing time to process his feelings. For Aziraphale’s lifetime, 1941-1967 is the blink of an eye. 

Part 6/10

End Notes

On willful ignorance: In my opinion, IRL willful ignorance mostly takes the form of a motivated lack of awareness. If a particular perspective, interpretation, relevant factor, explanation, ect… doesn’t line up with a person’s sense of self or behaviour, it stays out of awareness because the background mechanisms of the mind work to keep it out of awareness. The information they do not absorb is targeted. It isn’t random, it follows a strategy, and yet, they have no idea that they are doing it. It is… exhausting… to engage with that.

On pedestals: It has been observed that the level of misogyny in a country correlates very highly with a tendency to put women on pedestals. The more prevalent attitudes about how wonderful and perfect women are for doing all the womanly things so well predicts both a strong demand that women conform to those expectations and harsh penalties when they don't. Putting a person on a pedestal is a way to feel like you are honoring that person when you are actually threatening them.

On God having a plan for Crowley: I’ll be going into further detail as to why I think Aziraphale believes this and what it means in a future post, probably the final post. The closest we see him get to expressing this perspective to Crowley is the “May you be forgiven,” and if that is where he was going with it, that was like, the worst way he could possibly have put it. I do wonder if the 1941 apology dance could have come from Aziraphale telling Crowley he thinks God has a martyr plan for him. I think internally acknowledging that he was in love could have led to him saying it, and I think Crowley would be very valid in wanting an apology if he had. That said, I think the apology dance could also be explained by Aziraphale almost getting them caught with the magic show, and taking his time to reveal that he had swapped the photos. 

While we're talking about old apology dances, I think the 1650 one probably had something to do with Anne Greene.