#i can't even think of what they would be. mystifying

[roosterforme]

Beer Boy and Sugar: The Second Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year Two

Bradley dropped down on his bed and started to untie his boots while Nat looked around at everything on his desk. They were both about to start flying solo now, and it was such a relief that she was advancing in the program with him. It brought him a little bit of joy every time they left the others in the dust.

"I always liked this thing," she remarked, poking his Navy desk lamp as he set his boots under his bed. "You said it was your dad's, right?"

"Yeah. Makes it vintage," he replied with a grin as he lounged back on his pillows, already thinking about dinner in the mess hall. It was hot as hell outside, especially by Rhode Island standards, and it made him miss Virginia a little bit. "Are you ready for dinner?"

She groaned. "It's too hot to go outside and walk all the way to get food. Your air conditioner works better than mine, too. Can't we just stay in here?"

His stomach growled as he said, "All I got is some protein bars and instant mac and cheese. And I'm starving."

Nat started to poke at the book he was currently reading as she said, "I'll order us a pizza."

This was something he'd never get used to, even though he considered her his best friend. She always seemed to have money from her parents, and he had basically nothing. But she continually offered to share her food with him. Bradley wasn't exactly sure what he brought to this friendship, but she seemed to enjoy having him around, so he didn't bring it up.

"Fine," he agreed.

This seemed to make her happy as she fished her phone out of her pocket. "You want your usual topping choice?"

Bradley froze with his fingers pushed back in his messy hair. At first, he always ordered his pizza that way, because that's how you liked it. Now Nat thought it was his preference. But maybe it actually was?

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Please." 

Then he listened to her call it in while his thoughts drifted back to Virginia. He hadn't seen or heard from you in fourteen months, but he'd thought about you every single day. It hurt a little less now, but all the feelings were still there. He still looked at all the pictures he had saved on his phone. He thought about you when he touched himself. He still hadn't slept with anyone else since you.

"Why would you keep a differential equations notebook from UVA?" Nat mused, but he was barely listening to her as he thought about your body curled up against his while you wore his Grateful Dead shirt. "Did you even take advanced math?" 

When he finally registered what she said, he sat up in his bed and saw her holding your purple notebook. The one with all the doodles and love notes in the margins, and he felt like he was back in the study room with you on his lap. The breath was knocked from his lugs as a sheet of loose, folded paper fell onto her lap, and she picked it up and started to read it out loud.

"Dear Beer Boy, 

I'm bored in my calculus lecture, and I just started thinking about your bedroom door. It's still the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Maybe you and I could wait until the middle of the night when all of your fraternity brothers are asleep and sneak out into the hallway and-"

Bradley lunged out of bed and grabbed the note from her hand before she could see the rest. "What the fuck, Nat? That's personal!"

Her dark brown eyes were as wide as saucers as she said, "That was from her."

He knew she was kind of mystified by you, given that he only shared details of the happiest months of his adult life sparingly. She always asked for more information when he mentioned you, always wanted to know more. But Bradley felt like the magic would wear off the more he talked about you, so he always kept it brief. He also knew he wasn't going to get away with saying nothing right now.

"Yeah," he grunted, taking the purple notebook from her hands and returning the folded note to the back pages. The sight of your handwriting filled him with a deep need for you. "And this was her notebook."

Nat's voice was gentle, as if she was trying not to spook him when she asked, "Why did she like your door so much?"

Bradley closed his eyes and laughed quietly. "I painted over all the other girls' names and phone numbers. For her. Or for myself. I don't really know anymore."

Now her eyes were narrowed when he looked at her again. "'All the other girls'. Holy shit, Bradshaw. Were you some sort of fuckboy in college?"

He leaned back against his pillows again as he groaned, "Basically." He didn't really like thinking about it, because that hadn't been him for a long time now. "Before Sugar."

She took her phone out again, and Bradley desperately wished the pizza would arrive so this conversation could end. But Nat asked, "What was her last name again? I want to know exactly what she looks like."

He whispered the word, loving the feel of it on his tongue as he took his own phone out. He located the picture of him with his arm around your shoulders that Dev took the week before graduation. Your smile was too pretty, and your face was too perfect. There was a reason he had to limit himself, and the onslaught of feelings was proof of why: He wasn't over you yet.

"Here," he muttered, stretching his arm out to hand his phone to Nat, but she gasped as she looked at her own phone.

"She's gorgeous. I found her Instagram account."

"You did?" he asked, launching himself off of the bed and forcefully switching phones with her. She gasped again as she looked at the photo on his phone, but Bradley was too busy staring at the tiny thumbnail of your smiling face. Your account was set to private, but this photo must have been more recent. Your hair was styled differently, and the only thing he could process was that he felt relieved you were posing alone instead of with some other guy. He didn't want to have to put a face to that.

He thought about taking a screenshot and texting it to himself, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. And when Nat asked if he wanted her to send you a friend request, he said absolutely not. "You think I want her to know I still think about her every day? No."

Then she said, "But maybe she still thinks about you." 

Bradley didn't see how that was a possibility.

The pizza finally arrived just then, and Nat stood to go get it. She gave him a cautious hug and said, "I think she would be proud of you." She left him alone with both phones in his hands, and somehow he knew it would be easier to talk about you now if he wanted to.

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

It was mind blowing. Three months ago, Chicago was freezing cold and practically encased in ice. Now it was blazing hot to the point that you couldn't get any relief unless you were inside your dorm room. It was Friday, thank goodness. Everyone in your graduate studies group wanted to go out for deep dish pizza tonight, and you had to figure out a way to stop sweating long enough to actually get dressed in something other than the shorts and tank you were wearing now.

You groaned as you carried your computer and textbooks across campus in your backpack. You had the highest grades out of all of the math graduate students, but you still took everything with you everywhere in case you had some extra time to study. But you should have left everything in your room instead on this sweltering day.

The quad was packed with tables and students participating in a career fair, but for some reason, this was where Jared asked you to meet up. Four dates with him, and you still weren't convinced it was a good idea to take things out of the friend zone. Four dates, and you still didn't really want to do anything besides kiss him. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with him, he just wasn't exactly right.

"Hey!" 

As soon as you heard Jared calling out for you, your initial reaction was to hide. You were absolutely going to have to tell him you didn't want to see him anymore, and it mostly made you mad that it would probably disrupt your friend group. 

"Hi," you replied as he squeezed through the crowd to get to you. And then he slipped his sweaty hand in yours, and you actually cringed. Why wasn't this what you wanted? After nearly a year, he wore you down enough that you gave it a try, but this was decidedly bad. Especially since you could picture exactly what you did want.

When you looked up at Jared's face, your gaze drifted to your left. You gasped and dropped his hand immediately. There were recruiters from the Navy. They were wearing flight suits. You caught a glimpse of wavy brown hair and a flash of dark eyes, and you were off.

Jared was calling after you as you fought through the crowd, catching glimpses here and there of broad shoulders and a handsome smile. Oh my god, he was here. Somehow, he was here. Like he'd just climbed out of your dreams and into the University of Chicago campus. 

"Bradley!"

Your voice rang out, but he didn't fully turn your way. You rushed a little faster, no longer caring if you knocked someone into one of the tables. 

"Bradley!"

But you stumbled as you reached the recruiters, and your smile evaporated from your lips. Tears stung at your eyes as he turned to face you, leaving your heart filled with disappointment. 

"Hey, there. I'm Lieutenant Chapman," he said with a grin, and you honestly didn't know how you could have been mistaken. His eyes were hazel, and his hair was too curly, and now you were standing there feeling like you'd just broken your own heart all over again. The disappointment could smother you if you let it.

You nodded and turned away as sweat dripped down your chest and an awful feeling settled into your stomach. You made your way back through the crowd at a much slower pace with no real desire to talk to Jared, but you reached him all too soon.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing your hand again.

You looked at the ground and tried to hide your tears as he squeezed your hand tighter. "Sorry. I thought I saw an old friend."

He just made an impatient noise and asked, "You ready to go get changed and grab some pizza with everyone else? I thought we could ditch them early and maybe go back to my room and watch a movie? And like hang out... on my bed?"

His voice was distressingly hopeful. You wanted to say no. You knew you should. But you kept your eyes fixed on the ground as you said, "Sounds good," with almost no conviction. You wanted to get past this, so you needed to actually start trying.

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

Make it stop hurting. Or don't. I don't know. They must both already know they belong together. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the rest of this series!

@beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @shanimallina87 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @horseslovers2016 @sadpetalsstuff @schoollover @jessicab1991 @lex-winchester @bellaireland1981 @sagittarius-flowerchild @marvelouslyme96 @trickphotography2 @goldenseresinretriever @rascallyrascals @auroracaroline @nerdgirljen @redbarn1995 @theweekndhistorybook @averyhotchner @moon42flight @eli2447 @lyn-js @na-ta-sh-aa @mygyn @je-suis-prest-rachel @kcloveswrestling @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @callsign-magnolia @eternalsams @lynnestra44 @shinzowosasageyoooo @tgmreader @princessofglitterland @backupbrii @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @averyhotchner @hookslove1592 @callsigns-haze

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #beer boy and sugar strike again

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

Thief

@would-we-be-friends-if-i asked:

Parker (world renowned thief, enjoys rappelling/jumping off of extreme heights and crawling through air vents, gymnastic skills galore)

@pomrania writes:

Parker can escape anything and is also deeply weird.

@r0sequarks writes:

Parker is here to steal something; she’s probably in and out without being noticed. Even if Dracula does catch her I think her default is to run away and she is perfectly suited for it. Completely skips over all of the actual plot except wall-scaling.

@darthlordcommie writes:

Parker: Out the window day one. She doesn't like following social rules, so she'd book it as soon as she got bad vibes.

@wanderingandfound writes:

Parker is the only one getting out of there. Don't know if she survives the wolves. But you cannot keep Parker somewhere she doesn't wanna be kept.

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

So Castle Dracula has new locks, a sheer wall, and a big pile of treasure. This isn't the Horrors, this is Christmas come early.

I am utterly charmed by the idea of Parker breaking in, stealing Dracula's hoard, and lizarding her way back out again as quickly and quietly as she had come, without ever being noticed. She absolutely would, and it's what Dracula deserves. I've noted elsewhere that Breaking & Entering is the one power our heroes have that Dracula crucially lacks (which is perhaps why Van Helsing does so dang much of it) - he needs to get burglarized more actually.

But okay, what if Parker arrives as Dracula's invited guest? I think her biggest challenge will be keeping herself from stabbing Dracula with forks for laying hands on her. She has exploitable insecurities, but she really is just so inherently weird and closed off about herself that I think Dracula would have difficulty discovering and exploiting them. When Parker sees him out on the walls it earns her grudging respect rather than repulsing her. And then she decides to go check out the room he just vacated and finds the treasure hoard. It's the best day ever.

And yeah. Parker cannot be contained. She never sees herself as a prisoner, it's like "ooh, enrichment." And then she judges him for not investing in better locks. She's mystified about why she can't manage to unlock the front door, or lift the key off of Dracula (he had it a second ago, WTF), but whatever, the window is more fun anyway. The only thing keeping it from being perfect is the lack of vents. She leaves as soon as she gets the treasure, so like. May 13th.

And she leaves during the day, because Parker is superstitious, and this guy is clearly a creepy vampire. Look at those teeth! When she tells the others about it later they're like "Parker, we love you but not every weirdo with big teeth is a vampire." And she's like no but he was though. Anyway look at all these sweet roman coins I got. And it's like classic Parker, believing in vampires, but yeah those coins are super sweet.

But yes, Parker can survive Castle Dracula, almost trivially, and she has a really great time. Hey guys, we should get a Castle! (Babe, there's no wifi and no centralized heating ... and no vents. Awww, you're no fun :( *Parker Pout* )

#leverage #leverage: redemption #Parker #parker leverage #crooks #leverage week

[kingofbodyrolls]

Stuck at a Christmas party (m) | pjm

*Part of ’the winter collection’.

Summary: It’s Seokjin’s Christmas party and you’re trying your best to be social with your friends, but it’s really hard when you feel the burning stare of your nemesis, Park Jimin, lighting your skin on fire. It doesn’t help when you feel his hand between your legs under the dinner table.

Pairing: Jimin x female reader AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. Word count: 5,1K Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 Warnings (explicit): exhibitionism, fingering, oral (male receiving), orgasm denial, cum eating, creampie, unprotected sex, choking (in a sexual context), degrading name calling (brat), hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Taglist: @yopjm

Author’s note: the snowstorm couple are back!!! 🥳 For reference, please think of GDA 2019 Jimin with his sleek black suit when reading this 🥵

ℹ️ This is part of ‘The Winter Collection: Stories with the Snowstorm Couple’, it can still be read as a stand-alone though!

I am going on a hiatus, but I wanted to post this before I left…

As you stand there, befuddled and speechless, you can't fathom how Seokjin deduced the intimate encounter between you and Jimin, your mortal enemy. The questions swirl in your mind—how, what, and why—leaving you utterly mystified.

Rage simmers within you, and you clench your hands into tight fists, resembling an enraged child ready to lash out. However, before you can unleash your fury, Jimin beats you to the punch with a nonchalant explanation, “We got cold.”

Your jaw drops once more as Jimin strolls past you and Seokjin, casually hanging his coat on the rack and discarding his shoes. He carries himself as though what transpired between you is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Seokjin's laughter, that annoying windshield wiper sound, echoes in the air. It grates on your nerves, and the urge to smack him for it intensifies. However, he ushers you inside, and with a frustrated sigh, you release your petty thoughts, letting your shoulders slump in resignation.

“Not a word to the others!” you hiss, jabbing your finger forcefully in Seokjin's face. It's crucial to drive the point home; the last thing you need is for the rest of your friends to find out. The mere thought of enduring their endless teasing is unbearable.

Seokjin mimics zipping his mouth shut with exaggerated hand gestures, and you shoot him a stern glare for good measure, silently urging him to grasp the gravity of your seriousness.

Seokjin accompanies you into the living room, where Jimin lounges on a couch, wearing that infuriatingly smug expression. Despite the lingering resentment, he acknowledges you with a subtle nod, licking his lips teasingly. A shiver snakes down your spine at the suggestive gesture, and you can't shake the feeling that this evening is destined to be nothing short of torturous.

The music pulses through the air, creating a lively atmosphere that encourages conversation with friends. Despite the chatter and laughter around you, there's an undeniable sensation of being watched. Your attempts to catch up with girlfriends are accompanied by the persistent feeling of a gaze, like smoldering embers, leaving your skin tingling with heat. 

It's Jimin, his captivating dark brown eyes following your every move, setting you ablaze amidst the festive chaos.

Despite your best efforts to steer clear of him throughout the evening, the inevitable moment arrives when dinner is served. The grand table is a vision of Christmas elegance, adorned with festive ornaments and pristine white plates boasting delicate gold rims. As you approach, the once plentiful seats have dwindled, leaving only two vacant spots side by side. The realization hits you like a silent shock – everyone is settled in their places, except for one person: Park Jimin.

A smirk dances on Jimin's lips as your eyes lock, and with a gentlemanly flourish, he pulls out the chair for you. The attention of your friends is inevitably drawn to the unfolding scene, their curious glances making you squirm. You take your seat, feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze as he elegantly settles his perfect plump ass in the chair beside you.

Amidst the lingering stares and unspoken questions, you divert your attention to the spread before you, purposefully loading your plate with an array of delectable dishes. The clinking of cutlery becomes a welcome distraction, and for a brief moment, you find solace from the constant scrutiny of Jimin's eyes that have tracked your every move since you arrived.

Engulfed in the lively chatter around the table, you savor each bite while selectively tuning in to the diverse conversations unfolding. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of laughter weave a symphony that, for a moment, allows you to lose yourself in the festive atmosphere.

Your senses tingle as a warm sensation caresses your thigh, an unmistakable touch that sends a jolt of awareness through your entire being.

A rush of longing surges through you, an electric pulse that ignites every nerve, and without needing to glance down, you're keenly aware of Jimin's hand, a potent source of warmth, intimately tracing the contour of your thigh. As he gives it a firm, possessive squeeze, you close your eyes, surrendering to the tantalizing dance of desire that envelops you.

A relentless wave of need courses through you, the mere touch of Jimin's hand on your thigh igniting a fiery pool of arousal in your core. It's almost absurd, the intensity of your response—his hand, just on your thigh, and yet it feels as if the entire universe has conspired to stoke the flames of desire within you.

His attention remains fixed on the conversation with Namjoon, his eyes avoiding yours, but the impact of his touch on your thigh is impossible to ignore. The simple act of eating becomes an insurmountable challenge as his hand, like a brand, leaves an indelible mark on your senses. The silk of your dress offers little resistance to the searing heat emanating from his touch, rendering the task of composing yourself an elusive feat.

You grit your teeth, attempting to conceal your mounting frustration, and in a clandestine exchange of glances with Seokjin seated across from you, you're convinced he sees right through the charade. Damn it all.

Jimin's hands persist in their exploration, journeying beneath your dress and ascending higher on your thigh. A stifled gasp escapes your lips, your attempt to conceal the pleasure coursing through you as his fingers delicately trace the contours of your panties.

Your mind races as he inches perilously close to your core, your pussy pulsating with anticipation. Damn, the intensity of the sensation is overwhelming.

His apparent nonchalance fuels your frustration. How can he engage in casual conversation with Namjoon, seemingly unfazed, while his hand stealthily explores the contours of your thigh beneath the table? The audacity, especially in the midst of your friends, leaves you seething with a mix of desire and irritation.

His fingers delicately dance over the fabric that shields your pulsating core, sending a shiver down your spine. Conflicting desires surge within you – an undeniable craving for his touch and the hesitation born from the inappropriate setting, surrounded by the prying eyes of your friends.

With deliberate slowness, he trails his fingers along the edge of your panties, expertly sliding them to the side. A single finger ventures into your slick folds, and an involuntary exclamation of desire escapes your lips. Fuck!

Panic and pleasure collide within you as your body ignites with an uncontrollable fire. Fumbling for composure, you desperately try to conceal the intoxicating sensations Jimin's hand is orchestrating beneath the table. Casting a surreptitious glance at your friends, relief washes over you—it appears they remain oblivious to the clandestine dance Jimin is leading on your fevered skin. Thank god.

Your entire being tenses as an electric current courses through you, a silent struggle unfolding within as you grapple with the urge to control your escalating breaths, ensuring each intake is hushed and every gasp remains concealed.

Jimin's fingers expertly plunge in and out of you, a relentless rhythm that leaves you quivering in your seat. The addition of a second digit amplifies the sensations, intensifying the shivers that course through you. Fuck you, Park Jimin!

You shoot him an incredulous look, but he remains unfazed, deep in conversation with Namjoon as if his fingers aren't skillfully working their magic on you. Frustration bubbles within you, the tightening knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. Shit.

His fingers abandon your pulsating core, and just when you dare to hope for a reprieve, he redirects his attention to your swollen clit. Electric jolts course through your body, and an involuntary flinch escapes you, catching the curious gaze of your friends. The intensity of his touch threatens to betray the secrets you're desperately trying to keep under wraps.

“Are you okay?” Concern etches across Hoseok's face as he leans in, his voice laced with worry. His eyes search yours, dissecting the panic in your stare and the sudden gasp that escaped your lips.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you lift your chin and strive for confidence as you reply, “Y-yes.”

Even as the words leave your lips, their uncertainty rings in your ears, a desperate plea that he won't press for more answers.

The sensation of Jimin's fingers expertly tracing figure eights on your clit sends electric chills down your entire body. Your thighs clench involuntarily, and you find yourself biting your lip, desperately trying to stifle any sounds that might betray the pleasure coursing through you. It's a delicate dance between ecstasy and secrecy, his skilled touch weaving a spell that makes it increasingly difficult to maintain your composure.

As Jimin's fingers work their magic, your heart races, and the sensation is akin to running a marathon. A lone bead of sweat forms on your hairline, evidence of the intensity building within you. Fuck Jimin, unraveling you like this in front of your friends. The promise of payback simmers in your mind, determined to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.

As your breath quickens, the telltale signs of impending release manifest—quivering thighs betraying your desperation. 

You're on the verge, yearning to pry Jimin's hand away from your pulsating core. The last thing you want is to climax in front of your friends; the situation is already precarious. Imagining their potential disgust only adds to the thrill. 

The forbidden allure of the moment perplexes you—why does the idea of their judgment fuel your arousal?

Despite your futile attempts to swat his hand away, Jimin remains resolute, intensifying his efforts to push you over the edge. A determined glint in his eyes, he skillfully manipulates your senses. As he continues to stimulate your clit, a rush of liquid heralds your surrender, leaving you slumped against the table, your body succumbing to the waves of pleasure.

An electric surge courses through your body, causing every muscle to tighten, your clit pulsating beneath his expert touch. Desperately trying to collect yourself and avoid drawing attention, you navigate the fine line between pleasure and discretion.

Yoongi's concern cuts through the haze, and he observes, “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

A quiet, low moan escapes your lips, and in that moment, you become acutely aware of how disheveled and spent you must appear—fatigued and lost in a dazed gaze. Rising from your chair, Jimin's hand reluctantly withdraws from your core, and as your dress gracefully descends with your movement, you manage to murmur, “T-toilet,” your chest heaving with the lingering waves of lust.

In a frenzied hurry, you bolt into the bathroom, your hands gripping the edge of the sink, and you confront your disheveled, panting reflection in the mirror. It feels pathetic, the way Jimin effortlessly coaxed an orgasm from you under the table, using only his fingers. The realization hits hard – you are undeniably and thoroughly fucked. 

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to steady yourself just as the bathroom door creaks open, heralding the impending return to the outside world.

As you gaze into the mirror, the source of your overwhelming frustration materializes before you: none other than Park Jimin.

You emit a hiss, a potent blend of frustration and arousal, as your eyes lock with his. Despite the turmoil, you can't deny the magnetic pull of his irresistible gaze, a look saturated with sin, his eyes half-lidded, and his tongue seductively gliding across his lips.

You sense your core clenching with a frustrating ache, an insistent reminder of desire for the infuriating man you both despise and secretly crave.

He teasingly presents his fingers to you, wiggling them suggestively as a sly grin plays on his lips, “You came.”

Your gaze locks onto him in utter disbelief—did he stroll around casually with your essence adorning his fingers?

“Suck them dry,” he commands, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the aftermath—your flushed cheeks and the deep rhythm of your breaths.

His words linger in the air, a challenge you're quick to accept. Without hesitation, you wrap your lips around his digits, tasting the remnants of your essence. His low groan reverberates as he watches you skillfully suck him dry, a silent dance of desire between you.

With each deliberate suck, you reclaim every trace of your essence from his fingers. When the task is accomplished, you fix him with an intense gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes, daring him to unleash the pent-up desire that simmers between you.

“Can’t stop thinking about me?” 

Your gaze locks with his, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you bat your lashes, feigning a sense of dominion you both know is illusory. He meets your challenge with a smug smirk, dragging his tongue over his lips, and in that moment, the taste of him floods your senses, a lingering memory that refuses to be forgotten.

You want more so you decide to match Jimin's honesty with your own vulnerability. As the words escape your lips, confessing, 'I can't get you out of my head either,' a gust of candid truth hangs in the air. The charged atmosphere between you two becomes palpable, an electric tension that leaves you yearning, your desperation laid bare.

With a sultry whisper, you proposition him, your voice dripping with desire. Your eyes linger provocatively on the pronounced bulge in his pants as you suggest, “I can suck you off. It’s the least I can do.”

He skillfully unbuckles his belt, swiftly unzips his pants, and sensually lowers both his trousers and underwear, unveiling his throbbing, substantial dick that eagerly springs forth.

Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, the lingering taste of him still fresh in your memory, and an undeniable yearning builds within you, an insatiable desire to descend upon him just as you did in the heated confines of the car a mere few hours ago.

He strides purposefully toward the toilet, ceremoniously lowering the seat, and with a provocative gesture, positions himself on it, legs enticingly spread, an open invitation for you to draw near and indulge in the feast of his dick.

You swiftly descend to your knees on the welcoming warmth of Seokjin's floor, grateful for the cozy indulgence of heated tiles. Running your tongue across your lips, you seize his throbbing cock with a determined hand, evoking a hiss of pleasure from his lips.

“Fuck! I missed you.”

“It's only been a few hours, Jimin,” you chuckle before enveloping his pulsating dick in your saliva-coated warmth. He fills your mouth perfectly, and you establish a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious anticipation in the air.

You skillfully handle what can't fit in your mouth, teasing with your hand. Jimin throws his head back, emitting a delicious moan in response to your artistry. Sucking him off with an intensity that borders on desperation, you flatten your tongue and expertly play with his frenulum, eliciting a hiss and soft moan from him.

With a firm grip on your hair, he tugs at your ponytail once more. Drool drips from your mouth as you glide over his cock, expertly hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His fingers tighten in your hair, urging you further. Breathing in and out through your nose, you navigate down to his pubic hairs, humming sensually around his dick. The subtle shiver you feel from him fills you with a sense of pride, knowing the impact you're having on him.

“Fuck. You’re so good,” he moans, pulling your hair tighter in his grip, the raw desire in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Shit, I’m close already,” he gasps, his voice breathy with anticipation, and you can sense the pulsating urgency of his cock in your mouth, signaling that he's on the brink of release.

Unexpectedly, you withdraw from his throbbing cock, leaving him suspended on the precipice of release. His eyes widen in disbelief, watching as you sensually lick your lips, a spark of mischief and fiery playfulness dancing in your gaze.

“Brat. Finish what you started!” 

His demand hangs in the air, laden with urgency, but you defiantly shake your head, a smug smirk playing on your lips. In this tantalizing game of desire, you've decided to level the playing field, returning the favor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

With a sly smirk stretching across your face, you assertively declare, “No.” Your lustful desire is unmistakable as you deliberately pull away, leaving him hanging. “You made me come in front of our friends, embarrassing me. So now,” you add with determined confidence, “you don't get to come.” 

As you swing the door open, you exit, leaving him in the bathroom, his fully erect dick on full display, a silent challenge echoing in the air.

“Fucking brat!” His voice reverberates through the air, a raw and frustrated yell, trailing after you as you make your exit.

A mischievous laughter escapes your lips, an odd mix of satisfaction and empowerment swirling within you. Striding back to the table with your friends, you effortlessly dive back into the conversation, as if leaving Jimin high and dry is just another casual move in your repertoire. 

There's a subtle thrill in knowing that maybe, just maybe, you've imparted a lesson on not messing with you.

After a few minutes, Jimin saunters back to the table, and you can't help but notice the lingering outline of his arousal beneath his pants. Apparently, he didn't tend to his needs as you assumed he would. The intrigue in the air grows thicker, adding a layer of curiosity to the already charged atmosphere.

The remainder of the evening unfolds without any further advances from Jimin, and despite the undeniable tension in the air, you manage to restrain yourself, keeping your hands to yourself. The pulsating undercurrent of arousal lingers, fueled solely by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence.

Dinner concludes, and after lending a hand with the cleanup, the music swells to an even higher volume, enticing people to the dance floor. Amid the lively atmosphere, you join in the dance with your girlfriends, playfully swaying your hips to the rhythm. The pulsating energy is infectious, but beneath the neon lights and thumping beats, you sense Jimin's intense gaze fixed on yours once more.

Sensations of arousal ignite within you, yearning for a more intimate connection that goes beyond the pulsating dance floor. Amidst the crowd, you feel a magnetic pull, a desire for his crotch to be the one you're grinding against. However, such an encounter isn't suitable in the presence of your friends. Suddenly, Jimin materializes on the dance floor, seizing your hand and drawing you into a close embrace. His warm breath grazes your ear as he utters, “Come with me, brat.”

He pulls you away from the pulsating crowd of friends, a flicker of distress in your eyes, yet a clandestine thrill seeping through your veins. The covert glances from your friends affirm that they caught the provocative scene. With determination, he leads you into a secluded room, the door securing your privacy with a decisive click.

His eyes blaze with an inferno of lust, an intensity that borders on fury. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze, and he licks his lips with a hunger that suggests he's poised to consume you whole.

“Some nerve you have,” he begins, a low growl in his voice as he presses you backward, drawing you closer to a waiting bed, its presence dawning on you like an ominous realization.

Nervousness courses through your body, a relentless tide, as he exerts control over you with the sheer dominance of his presence.

“Leaving me like that, you fucking brat,” he hisses, forcefully pushing you down onto the bed.

Despite your nerves, a chuckle escapes your lips, “Well, I think it was only fair.”

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, the air thick with anticipation.

“Fuck. What do you do to me?” he murmurs, diving in to kiss your lips. Your hands instinctively find his cheeks, and you melt into the soft, plush sensation of his mouth, lost in the intoxicating dance of his lips.

Instantly, your body relaxes, and you wrap your legs around his waist, provocatively pressing your core against his erect dick, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him.

“I could say the same to you,” you pant, “and I don't even like you. I don't understand,” you murmur between kisses, grappling with the conflicting emotions that the intensity of the moment brings.

“But I want you. Damn it, I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confess with a breathless mixture of desire and urgency, punctuating your words with a daring roll of your hips, leaving no room for ambiguity about your craving for him.

“Fuck.”

He unbuckles his belt with a purpose, the metallic clink resonating with the promise of what's to come. Swiftly, he unzips his pants and skillfully lowers them along with his underwear, gracefully joining you on the bed with a hunger in his eyes.

His arousal is evident, his dick appearing more heated and flushed than ever. The crimson hue tells a tale of the desire he harbors, heightened by your previous act of leaving him hanging and hungry for more.

“You’re such a brat. I’ll fuck you senseless.” His voice, a sultry promise, sends shivers down your spine. With a self-assured stroke of his dick, he spreads your legs, deftly teasing your underwear aside. 

Hovering above you, his breath dances on your skin as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m going to shut that pretty mouth of yours up.”

Your body quivers in response as he deftly lifts your legs over his shoulders. In this moment, he appears both commanding and delicate, a paradox you can't help but be drawn to. As your moans escape, his eyes light up, as if you hold the key to his universe. Yet, the bitter truth remains—you are enemies, drowning in mutual hatred despite the intensity of the desire that binds you.

His fingers dance over your sensitive folds, ensuring the cascade of wetness that engulfs you. You're a river in anticipation, and he chuckles, pulling back a glistening digit to savor your essence. His words, whispered with satisfaction, echo in the room, “You taste so good.”

You moan, your body craving his touch, and impatiently inquire, “What's the hold up?”' as you yearn for him to fulfill his promise to ravish you.

In the dim light, he chuckles down at you, gripping his hard dick once more and skillfully aligning it with your eager entrance. The head of his cock nudges your folds, eliciting a desperate mewl of pleasure from your lips. Despite the intense disdain you harbor for him, all you crave now is to feel him deep inside you.

With a powerful thrust, he impales you on his dick, plunging deep into your core with reckless abandon. A primal scream of his name tears from your throat, echoing in the room, encapsulating the sheer intensity of the moment. “Fuck, Jimin!”

His grin turns wicked, a hint of danger in his eyes, as he accelerates, showing no mercy and denying you any chance to acclimate. Every powerful thrust widens and fulfills you in the most exquisite way, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Though mere hours have passed, the yearning for his dick consumes your thoughts. The magnetic pull of his desire leaves your mind shrouded in dangerous fantasies that dance provocatively through the corridors of your consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

Moans of pleasure escape his lips, breathless and raw, as he utters your name in a fevered whisper. Holding your legs aloft, he thrusts into you, skillfully navigating the depths, each movement a calculated dance that hits your soft spot with precision, sending ripples of ecstasy through your body.

His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, a heady mix of musk that clouds your mind. The rhythmic dance of his tie brushing against your dress on your tummy mirrors the cadence of his thrusts.

Amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure, you find yourself caught in a paradox of conflicting emotions. “Fuck, Jimin. I hate you. I don't understand,” you blabber, your words intertwining with the rhythmic surges of arousal coursing through your body. With each relentless thrust, the coil in your stomach tightens, weaving a complex tapestry of desire and disdain.

“I do,” he utters, punctuating his words with a forceful thrust that reverberates through your core, causing a symphony of sensations to cascade through your body.

“You like me, that's why,” he pants, each powerful thrust resonating through your pussy, an electrifying dance of pleasure and desire. It's a truth you're reluctant to acknowledge, and as your heart races, you turn your head away, unable to meet his intense gaze, even as your body betrays your feelings.

“No, no, you look at me while I fuck you, brat,” he seethes with anger. He presses himself down on you, your legs parting to rest on the sides of his arms. His hands find their way around your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he maintains the fast pace of his hard thrusts. The intensity in his eyes matches the fervor of the moment, a collision of passion and dominance that leaves you breathless.

He forces you to turn your head toward him, and the grip on your throat tightens even more. “Just admit that you like me, brat,” he demands, his voice a potent blend of authority and desire, making your heart race as you navigate the thin line between resistance and surrender.

Your mind swirls in a hazy mist, a product of his presence or the firm grip around your neck — it's hard to discern. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there's an undeniable thrill that courses through you, a strange liking for the intoxicating blend of dominance and desire.

Released from his grasp, you inhale desperately, your breaths echoing the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions within. With the tightening coil in your stomach, you reluctantly admit, “Fine... I don't hate you.”

His hands reclaim your throat, a firm grip that mingles pleasure and restraint, synchronized with the rhythmic precision of his thrusts hitting every exquisite spot within you. “That's not good enough, brat,” he growls, his control both intoxicating and exhilarating.

“I know you like me, because your body tells me so,”

“I know you like it when I choke you, because you clench so much around me when I do,”

“Your body can’t lie, brat.”

Holy fuck. He’s right. At least in some parts. Your mind is a tempest of desire, clouded with thoughts of him, and suddenly you’re screaming, the sound muffled by his firm hands around your throat. Your body spasms uncontrollably, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing around his pulsating dick.

“Fuck. Yeah, cream my dick, brat.” he maintains his relentless thrusts, your orgasm surging through you like a wild storm, leaving you with a symphony of sensations and a loud ringing sound in your ears.

His hands finally release their grip on your neck, and you find yourself panting for air, gasping his name with a mixture of desperation and lust, “J-Jimin, fuck.”

“You’re doing so good. Even if you behave like a brat. Fuck. I’m so close.”

And then his thrusts become erratic and even more frantic, as he desperately seeks his own climax.

“Fuck, Jimin, just like that!” you scream as he relentlessly targets your sweet spot, igniting the familiar coil in your stomach once more. Fuck.

Jimin seems to sense your escalating pleasure, and one of his hands skillfully finds your clit, circling it with a tantalizing touch that nearly makes you scream. “Shit!”

He skillfully pinches your clit, and suddenly, you see stars—you're gone. Squirts of your release gush out, painting his pubic hairs, and Jimin gazes down at you. You thrash around the bed, frantically breathing, your muscles tightening as your vision becomes a canvas of small, white dots.

“Damn. You just squirted all over me,” he breathes in a soft voice, a hint of adoration laced within. However, you can't really decipher his tone as you're lost in the moment, your ears ringing again.

“Damn, that's hot,” he exclaims and thrusts into you again, releasing his warm load inside you with a scream of your name.

He continues to thrust into your core, the rhythm slowing down to a more sensual pace. Your body feels dazed and sweaty, the dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, the satin now undoubtedly soaked through.

You gasp for air, still catching your breath. “Fucking hell, that was amazing, Jimin.” He chuckles, offering you a gentle smile that quickly transforms into his trademark smirk.

His laughter dances through the air, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we can totally do this again,” he says, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You can't help but roll your eyes, though deep down, the idea doesn't seem entirely unwelcome. Keeping a sense of mystery, you respond with a playful glint in your eyes, “Maybe.” The rebellion in your spirit mirrors the dance of sparks between you, a familiar game of push and pull that seems destined to continue.

“Brat.” 

He chuckles, yet defies the teasing nickname by bending down to kiss you; it’s sweet and tender, a stark contrast to how he just fucked your brains out.

You cast a dismayed gaze at your drenched dress, muttering, “I can't go out in this,” and you groan, feeling the uncomfortable cling of the fabric to your skin, an unwelcome sensation adding to the aftermath of your heated encounter.

“How about we raid Seokjin’s closet?” he suggests, winking with a playful lift of his brows and a light chuckle.

“Is this Seokjin’s room? Did we just fuck on his bed? Damn, he’s going to be furious!” You burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. “No way! Imagine if everyone finds out we fucked.” You shriek, wildly waving your hands in the air, the possibility suddenly sinking in.

“Why are you so hell-bent on keeping it a secret?” he asks, genuinely curious, a playful glint in his eyes as he chuckles at your distress.

“Because you're my sworn enemy,” you state matter-of-factly, giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you sure about that?” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky demeanor once again.

“And I think they already know,” he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes your irritated expression. You groan into your hands, grappling with the realization that he might be right. However, you're determined to cling to any shred of hope you can find.

“We'll just stay up here until my dress is dry,” you declare, as if it's the most brilliant plan you can conjure. Jimin chuckles, his gaze lingering over your heaving form with a hunger that ignites a spark of desire. He licks his lips, suggesting, “Then take it off. That way, it'll dry faster, and we can go for round two in a moment.”

#jimin x reader #jimin bts #park jimin #jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin imagine #jimin smut #jimin x you #park jimin imagine #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts jimin #park jimin x you #bts jimin x reader #park jimin imagines #park jimin bts #bts park jimin #pjm x you #pjm smut #pjm x reader #bts pjm #pjm #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fics #jimin fluff #bts smut

[andypantsx3]

nooo but 7 minutes in heaven with shouto 😳

Note: Characters are adults, 18/19, in their 3rd year of UA.

"This is a closet," Shouto says, his tone both flatly observational and mystified, as a giggling Mina shuts the door behind you.

You look up at him in the dim, only a narrow strip of his face visible in the light from the crack in the door. It highlights one electric blue eye, a raised red brow, and an impossibly high cheekbone. But you don't have to see his face to understand the question he's asking.

"The term 'heaven' is artistic license," you tell him, your face going hot even though you're aware he can probably barely see you. "It's supposed to be more about, like, the activities than the space."

"What activities?" Shouto asks. The strip of light shifts, showing one strangely pretty ear, and you can tell he's glanced around for some sign of the aforementioned activities, as if someone's hidden away a Monopoly board in the janitorial closet.

You laugh despite your nerves. It figures Shouto participated in the game without knowing what he was participating in, just to spend time in the company of his classmates. He's like that, just content to be part of the group—to watch people talk, to listen closely and carefully.

You might have known he knew nothing about the game, especially when he didn't show any specific reaction to you being chosen as his partner.

"Um, well," you say, your insides hot and twisting. "We can just talk. We don't have to get into the usual logistics."

The strip of light highlights Shouto's blue eye and the side of his perfectly straight nose, and he blinks down at you curiously. He's very warm and very close in the small space, and even though you can't see much more of him, you're altogether too aware of the shape of his strong, lean body, lingering somewhere near in the dark.

"I want to play the way it's usually played," he says, his tone low and a little bit pouty at being rerouted like that. You know that about him, too, that he's a little bit of a spoiled youngest child, likes to get his way, even if he's usually patient and understanding about things.

A tiny thrill of anticipation goes up your spine, but you know he doesn't know what he's talking about. You frantically squash down your nerves, pinching the skin of your forearm to ground yourself.

"Shouto," you say, searching for the most tactful way to set him straight. You come up blank. "It's—not like, a normal game. It's...maybe with a different partner you would want to but trust me on this, we should just chat!"

The strip of light flickers, and every nerve ending in your body goes on high alert when you feel Shouto's exhalation on your cheek, realize he's leaned down to try to see you in the dim.

"Is there a reason you would not suit?" he asks, tone curious.

Yeah. The reason is that he was the most gorgeous creature on earth and you were just some general course rando on the periphery of his friend group with a creepy little crush. It would not do to take advantage of his naivety like this.

"Yes," you tell him, deciding maybe he just needed to hear it out. "Because Seven Minutes in Heaven is about kissing, Shouto."

There is a moment of silence, condemning in its length. The light strip shows only the top of Shouto's head now, soft scarlet strands raked through with the tiniest fluff of white on his right.

Then, an exhale, horribly, thrillingly close to your mouth.

"You do not want to kiss me," Shouto says, as if he's come to an understanding.

It's the absolutely shocking stupidity of this statement that causes you to blurt out what you do next.

"Are you for real? Anyone would want to kiss you, you nut," you say hotly.

There is another moment of silence, like Shouto is processing this. The force of your embarrassment hits you like a freight train, and you think it's only the saving grace that Shouto can't actually see you that stops you from self-immolating.

Then Shouto shifts, and his voice sounds even closer when he asks, "Even you?"

You can feel the heat of him now, barely inches away. A hot shiver creeps down your limbs, partly the thrill of his proximity, and partly a wild, gut-churning rush of self-consciousness.

"Yes," you say, trying not to cringe. "Even me."

And you think that will probably be the end of it, except something makes contact with your shoulder, startling you. You realize it's Shouto's hand as it slides up, warm and long-fingered, trailing across your neck as if feeling out the shape of you in the dark. He catches your chin between his fingers.

You open your mouth to ask what he thinks he's doing—

Only for Shouto to catch the words in his mouth.

It takes your brain several seconds to realize you're being kissed, though your body seems to realize it right away, thrilling with the feeling of his mouth on yours, hot and soft and utterly delicious. You hear yourself make an embarrassing noise and Shouto's mouth twitches into a tiny smile over yours, before his fingers grip you a little more firmly, pulling you deeper into his kiss.

You go willingly, your hands finding those strong shoulders in the dark, lifting up onto your toes to get closer to him. Shouto kisses you so thoroughly your head spins, his tongue careful and probing at first, then teasing.

The thought that Todoroki Shouto has his tongue in your mouth has you fighting down a little shivery whimper, as Shouto walks you back to press you against the wall, his hands finding your waist, pressing himself firmly against you.

His body is hard against yours, lean and long and carefully honed by years now of hero work. You grip him more tightly as his mouth leaves yours to follow the line of your throat. It's ticklish and thrilling, especially when he finds a spot at the base of your throat and sucks, leaving what is sure to be a hickey, an imprint of his mouth on you for you to wear for days after.

"Shouto!" you manage to gasp, gripping a handful of that silky hair, and Shouto makes a low, appreciative noise against your skin, moving over a half inch to leave another one.

The temperature in the closet is suddenly sweltering, and you can't tell if it's Shouto's quirk acting up or the heat of your own desire. All you know is you want to tear his shirt off of him, tear your shirt off of yourself, desperate to feel the press of his bare skin against yours, and—

A blinding light suddenly sears through your eyelids, and you jump about a foot in the air as Shouto reflexively clamps you against him.

"Wha—?" you garble out, your eyes blinking open to find Mina, peering into the closet smugly.

"It's about time you two stopped dancing around one another," she says, a Cheshire-catlike grin cutting across her mouth. "I accept gratitude in cash, credit, or banana milk at lunch."

Shouto lets out a huff against your skin, before turning to look at her, still gripping you tightly. "How much for an hour in heaven?" he asks, his tone politely bland.

A snort escapes you, mirroring Mina's and she tosses back her pink curls, her grin widening. She taps her chin, pretending to think for a moment before deciding.

"For you? It's on the house," she says finally, laughing, and closes the door, leaving you in the dark with Shouto once again.

You feel Shouto turn back to you, his mouth finding yours once more. "Seven minutes is not nearly enough time," he says against your lips, as you grin helplessly against his, disbelieving that this is really happening. "The inventors will want to change it. I'll write a letter."

You laugh but don't correct him, your veins singing with happiness.

You just let him kiss you again, finding your way into heaven.

#found this in my drafts again!! #i hope this is what u wanted 🥺 #andie's writing

[white-sinner]

yandere nerd classmate

x male reader

WARNING: willing reader, sadic reader,yandere getting caught, dom reader, sex, dirty thoughts, dirty dreams

A/N;so my younger brother gave me this idea we were basically talking and all of a sudden he blurts out “you know sometimes you scare me with these macabre things you say” several times he described me as sadistic so thanks little brother for the idea?

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a very shy boy meets a goth boy who will save him from bullies in his freshman year of high school only to find out that they are in class together the innocent nerd's obsession turns into something perverse but he is sure that he will take the decisions?

yandere nerd classmate:who has a crush on you since you two started high school now you're in your senior year and he's so sad he knows he needs to make you his but every time he tries to talk to you or get close his cheeks are all red and smears himself with his own words….poor stupid puppy

yandere nerd classmate: who gets distracted in class by his dirty little thoughts of you fucking him without caring about his enjoyment while you fill him full of your cum and he under you crying and sobbing

Yandere Nerd ClassMate: who is very good at digitally drawing literally a whole folder dedicated to porn drawings about you

yandere nerd classmate: who got a boner when you protected him from a bully your tone of voice so dark the threats towards the bullies and him on the ground behind you luckily he was on his lunch break so he had time to go to the bathroom to basturbarsi as he wanted at that moment to make a video of him masturbating and moaning in a public place thinking of you and then send it to you

“you are really pathetic to bully a person because your stupid dickheads can't even do two math exercises... *smile* let me just say it once and make it clear if you don't leave him alone i'll read you first on a chair cuts your friend's neck and I'll watch his blood flow as he screams in pain, then I'll remove his internal organs, slit his belly and make you choke on them, that would be a fun scene to watch, right? well maybe not for you but for me definitely yes”

yandere nerd classmate: that i start following you to your house stalking your social media well let's just say he wasn't really good at this stuff he was really pitiful but you didn't seem to mind of course he could have been a slut normally and told you he liked you but you decided to let him do it unfounded and let your prey live in his fantasy before killing him

yandere nerd classmate: that one day he decided to put his plan into action by following you in the school parking lot (you could literally hear him shaking and stumbling in his footsteps) and then attack you with a syringe full of sleeping pills but you caught him and crushed him at the wall

“w-what”

“what were you trying to do with this syringe, puppy”

“n-not-“

“don't lie I know exactly what you've been doing since the start of the new semester Logan*

*Logan looks down embarrassed*

“get into my car ”

“M/N wh-“

“I don't think i asked a question it was an order, enter in the car NOW”

after leading him to your house you let him in and kissed him by dominating him with your tongue making him almost suffocate

"well look at the drool that drips from his mouth"

*you slap him on the ass*

"you look like a puppy in heat"

"M/N please"

"mmmh? please what Logan do you need to use your words “

“come on you know don't make me say it's awkward”

Logan was mystified nothing had gone to plan but he really liked this twist so he decided to turn things around by looking away from you and trying to take control to which you replied slapping his ass again

“HICK”

“who told you you were the one in control”

at that moment Logan couldn't take it anymore he really wanted you to fuck him

“please… . you can fuck me…”

“ well finally you seem to obey “

having said that you dragged him with force creating a mark on his wrist to which he did nothing his crush was about to fuck him and branding him his what more could he want?

"Let's take these clothes off"

it was now past what seemed like hours to Logan you were overstimulating him and you weren't into him yet!

“M/N please put it in me!”

“aww but you're a little virgin if I put it inside it could hurt you”

“I don't care! I do not care!"

"ok little bitch calm down"

so you stuck all your cock inside him he started crying and you fucked him so fast that by now his mind was mush "well if you like him so much you could become my malewife by now the studies are finished"

"yes!yesyyes! i want eswhe your housewife M/N perfaw *moan*”

“you're such a slut”

and with these words he came and you looking at his face I did the same your hot sperm that mixed with that of before and before in short now Logan and Logan really realized all his dreams

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#male reader #yandere x male reader #male x male #male x reader #male y/n #x male smut #yandere male #x male top reader #sub yandere #yandere oc #oc stuff #original character

[astaroth1357]

That 'Realistic' Summoning act was done very amazingly, it all seems like summoning them is something you should do when you're smart and at the very end of your rope.

Is it alright if we ask how things differ if MC summons them?

Or if a Witch has MC with them for the summoning? (Either as a Friend Way or they Kidnapped them, whatever you feel like you would want to talk about :3

And if not that's fine too!

It's always a joy reading your stuff! )

Ooooh, I like the way you think! 😌

Why MC Can't Have Witch Friends

Building off of my Summoning Headcanons here.

Contents: MC has "Main Character Syndrome" and is always the exception to the rule... most of the time. Very LONG post (because I didn't want to post like three then deal with requests for all of the rest. My inbox still scares me lol)

Scenario: While training in more advanced magic with Solomon, MC made a normal witch friend as a study buddy/fellow intern! Comedy ensures.

~♡♡♡~

MC Summoning Lucifer

*it's 2am on a Wednesday but MC and their witch buddy are just now leaving their alchemy laboratory after cramming for another one of Solomon's tests. Much to their dismay, they see it's raining outside, with water just pelting the pavement outside the windows*

Witch: Seriously?? This wasn’t in the forecast this morning!

MC: *glares at the droplet-coated glass then glances down at the books in their hands* You gotta be kidding...! If I get these tomes wet, Solomon'll kill me...

Witch: That's true, but I mean it's not that bad. I think I know a spell or two that could... Wait, what are you doing...?

*the MC looks away from the phone they were furiously texting on as their friend was speaking*

MC: Hm? Oh! I'm just seeing if anyone can bring me an umbrella.

Witch: You would make someone drive all the way out here just for that...? 🤨

MC: *blinks* Huh? Drive? Oh no, that's not necessary- *their phone dings and they wave it triumphantly* Ah! There we go!

*the MC slides their phone into their pocket before pulling out a stick of chalk from their summoning supplies. Their friend watches with confusion as they begin to draw a circle on the ground, but it quickly escalates to full-blown panic the more that gets filled in*

Witch: Oh. My. Word. What do you think you're doing!?!

*MC looks up from their half completed Pride sigil just in time to see their friend diving for cover behind a stairwell*

MC: W-whoa, whoa, what's wrong???

Witch: *points at the sigil* If that's going to summon who I think it is, then what the HELL is wrong with you?? Are you trying to get us killed?! You don't even have an offering!!

*the MC looks utterly mystified as their buddy struggles to at least find their purifying salts*

MC: What? Killed?? Oh no, I know what I'm doing! I've done this hundreds of times, see just watch!

Witch: WHAT-

*the MC completes the sigil and it starts to glow bright blue against the tile floor. They get back to their feet as their friend screams in terror but rather than the rage-filled beast of Pride bursting forth from the ground, a frankly tired-looking man in barely-wrinkled silk pajamas pops into existence holding out a red umbrella...*

Lucifer: *grouchily narrows his baggy eyes at MC as they take the umbrella from his grasp* Should I even have to tell you to be more careful next time...?

MC: *frowns right back and brushes some lint off of his shoulder* I dunno, should I have to tell you to go to bed before midnight?

Lucifer: MC, don't start pushing me today...

*even though it should sound like a warning, Lucifer's voice seems more exhausted than anything, which softens the MC's expression considerably*

MC: Oh, Lu....

*they pull the haggered demon into their arms. running their fingers through his hair and earning a small grunt of satisfaction from him as he melts into their touch*

MC: Thank you for the umbrella, but you didn't have to bring it if you're this tired... Go get some rest, okay?

*Lucifer only grunts again before placing a sleepy kiss on the side of their head. He grumbles out something along the lines of, "Keep safe," before disappearing in a puff of white smoke and black feathers. While the MC inspects their newly acquired umbrella, they hear the sound of their friend scrambling out from behind the stairs, practically tripping over themselves trying to get back to their feet*

Witch: What thE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT!?!

MC Summoning Mammon

*MC and their witchy pal are in the kitchen of their shared apartment looking over some old notebooks that Solomon gave them, most of them holding transcribed stories or old conversations with the Demon Brothers. One story in particular has been especially... perplexing to them for about ten minutes now*

Witch: "-and then the secondborn trembled before the mighty thirdborn's trident as he brought it low upon his..." *glances at MC*

Witch: "his, uh..." MC?

MC: *sitting there, staring at the notepage with pursed lips*

Witch: MC, is something wrong?

MC: Wha- *they pull their eyes away from the neatly penned words then force a quick smile* Oh, no no. It's nothing. It just... this account feels a little off is all.

Witch: Really? Didn't Solomon say that he got it from one of the Demon Lords himself...?

MC: Yeah but... You know, I think we should get a second opinion on this. *they start looking for their summoning tools to find their chalk once again* I'm going to bring out Mammon.

Witch: What?? You want to call upon Mammon right now?! *their hand instinctively goes down to guard their wallet* But we could barely afford takeout last night!! 😫

MC: *frowns at them in confusion yet again* Uh... I know that? Mammon will eat leftovers as long as we heat it up right.

Witch: *jaw drops with a pop* Th-at... That wasn't what I meant...! I mean, how the heck are you going to pay his "entrance fee" with just 20 bucks to our name??

MC: *eyes widen sharply* Oh. My. God. You're absolutely right...

Witch: Thank you! Now if you just put the bag down-

MC: I totally forgot about Mammon's gift!!

Witch: His... his what?

MC: His gift!

*MC opens their backpack digs in past the zipper. After a few seconds, they pull up a small, cutesy keychain made with black beads and a crow-shaped pendant*

MC: I found this little thing while we were thrift shopping downtown. Isn't it just the cutest??

Witch: *stares at the dinky little trinket in their hand with growing concern* 😟 U-uh... It's uhm... Uh-

MC: Look, I know what you're thinking-

Witch: -Do you really??-

MC: -but don't worry! *they lift up their phone to show a similarly styled chain hanging from the case, but white instead of black*

MC: They had a matching pair! I know he's going to love it. I'll get him out here in just a second.

*the MC gets up with their chalk while their witch friend watches them go, muttering dejectedly*

Witch: Please don't tell me that actually works for you... How in the world does that actually work for you?? 😰

MC Summoning Levi

Witch: DAMMIT!!

*the shout of their witchy pal reverberates off the drabe apartment walls, sending MC out of their bedroom to investigate shortly after*

MC: What? What's wrong??

*they come over just in time to see their friend toss a ruined cloak onto the couch. The poor garment looks like it's been torn to pieces by a pack of animals, though their friend appears miraculously unscathed*

Witch: I ran into some of Solomon's missing hellhounds on the way home and had to use my cloak as a diversion. Just look what those little hellions did to it!!

*as their pal begins to mourn their favorite accessory, MC takes a couple long looks at it before waving their hand dismissively*

MC: Hey, don't worry about it. I've got a guy just for this!

Witch: A "guy"...? You know a tailor?

MC: Er... Well not exactly. Whenever I need something sewn up, I just call Leviathan.

Witch: ......

Witch: The...

Witch: The Grand Admiral of Hell's Royal Navy...

Witch: ... sews your clothes...?

MC: *blinks then flushes a bit* W-well not all of my clothes... But, you know, if I need something mended he usually lends a hand...

Witch: I didn't even know he could sew...

MC: Well, Levi's actually very talented in a lot of things! I'll even show you, just, uh...

Witch: Just... what? 🤨

MC: Well he's is pretty shy, so let me do most of the talking... And try not to look at him for too long, but also don't actively avoid looking at him either. And I know it's going to be hard, but try to keep up if he gets on one of his tangents because it really means a lot to him when people listen... Oh, and-!

Witch: What are you, his therapist??

MC: *shrugs* Kinda. I'll go get the chalk.

MC Summoning Satan

*MC and their witchy pal are in an out of the way bookstore specifically for esoteric relics and forbidden magical collections. It's an amazing little place, but it's chock full of shelves upon shelves of impossible to decipher titles and mindbending illustrations that have left the two feeling hopelessly lost...*

Witch: This is taking forever... How the hell does Solomon expect us to find anything in here??

*they look down at the small list of books their less-than-prescient mentor asked for, most of which with titles like "Cgfthgnm'o'th" or "Ghatanothoa"*

Witch: I mean, is this an errand or a C-tier fetch quest...??

MC: Ugh!... I swear Solomon knows that I'm no good in these places... Let's see.

*MC sets their summoning supplies down on a nearby table to look for their chalk and, for once, their friend actually seems kind of relieved to have the short-cut...*

Witch: Are you calling for Lucifer again...?

MC: Hm? Oh no, I think I've heard Satan talk about this place before, so maybe-

Witch: 😳 Hold on. Do... you mean that Satan?? THE Satan???

MC: *blinks* Uh... Yeah? Is there another one or...?

Witch: "Is there another one?" Are you for real?? How do I look? Is this presentable?? Shit, is it true that he hates the color red?!

MC: Where did you...? I mean, he likes green, I guess but I don't see-

Witch: WAIT, don't bring him out yet, we need a cat!! I think the café down the street attracts a few strays. I'll go grab one and come right back!!

MC: *holds up their hands to try and keep their friend from running past them* Hold on, we don't need any of that! What has gotten-??

*the MC yelps as the witch grabs them by the front of their shirt and grips the fabric tight, a burning look of determination setting their eyes ablaze*

Witch: MC, DO NOT ruin this for me!! Do you have any idea how well-connected that guy is? How many covens would kill just have someone around who's on his good side?? If this is the first impression I'm going to make, it's going to be a damn good one!

*they let the MC go only to snatch their summoning bag from the table beside them and stuff it under their arm*

Witch: I'll be taking this and you stay right here! I'll bring everything back after I go change into something green and find a spare cat!!

*as they watch their pal sprint out the door with what was effectively their only means of physical communication with the boys, the MC takes a seat at a dusty table and rests their elbows on the surface*

MC: I guess Solomon is getting those books a little late now... 😕

MC Summoning Asmo

MC: Ow!!

*the MC and their witch friend have JUST finished washing up Solomon's experiment beakers and half-eaten plates from his lab, the latter of which look so disgusting you could mistake them for old petri dishes. As the MC dries off the last glass and goes to slide it in place, they miscalculate their finger position and jam their nail right into a stack of ceramic plates*

*they pull their hand back out and they're previously trimmed nail is now broken into a sharp, jagged mess...*

MC: Oh dammit...! I just broke a nail...

*while they inspect the damage, their buddy slides next to them to look at it over their shoulder*

Witch: Huh...

Witch: Let me guess, you're going to call on ASMODEUS HIMSELF to fix it, aren't you? 🙄

MC: What?? No, of course not! I have my own kit for this, thank you very much. 😠

*their friend's eyebrows raise, almost like their impressed that MC is showing at least a modicum of self-restraint*

Witch: Well, well. I didn't think you woul-

MC: Though it IS almost time for him to give me my bi-monthly skin detox treatment so... 🤔

Witch: Are you kidding me??? 🤬

MC Summoning Beel

*the MC and their witching buddy FINALLY have a day off from Solomon's constant pestering lessons. While they discuss their upcoming plans, the news of a big human world fair in the area comes up. Though their friend seems less than impressed, MC immediately latches onto the idea for uh... reasons.*

MC: Okay, okay, I know this how this is gonna sound, buuuut we should invite Beelzebub to go to the fair with us!! 😁

Witch: ....

MC: 😀 .... So, yeah? Is that a yes?

Witch: .... MC. I swear, even you have to know why that's a bad idea... No mortal event is ever going be stocked enough to keep him from eating us-

MC: *GASP* WHAT??

MC: Beel? Eat US?? In a place with that many vendors, that'll be so unlikely. I'm sure we'll be safe!

Witch: Annnnd I just noticed that you left out the part where you're supposed to say, "Oh, he would never do that" to reassure me....

MC: Oh come on, I'm positive that he wouldn’t want to eat us, at least. He's a big softy and he really tries to keep himself in check...

Witch: I fail to see how that makes things any better...

MC: It will. Trust me. Look, Lucifer can send me enough pocket money to keep Beel fed while we're there. Pleeease, just give it a try...!

MC: I've been telling him about cotton candy and funnel cakes for years! He'll be so excited to come with so pleeeaaaase? 🥺

Witch: I think I'm starting to see why they keep caving in to you so quickly.... 😑

MC Summoning Belphie

*it's been several long nights in the shared apartment as MC and their witchy pal have been cramming for another one of Solomon's infamous tests... Despite having the test in the morning, both have long let time get away from them and neither were particularly well-rested to start with...*

MC: Shit, it's almost 2 again...

Witch: Seriously...? *checks the closest clock then snaps their book shut* Great... I think know a restorative spell or two, but there's not a lot of time to... *they stop as they see a sleepy MC reaching for their goddamn chalk again*

Witch: ... Uh, MC?

MC: Mmm...? *they blink their drooping eyes and yawn* O-oh, sorry... uh. Don’t worry about me... I got a guy for this too...

Witch: *frowns* You've got a...?

Witch: 😳 ... No... No, you can't be serious... You are NOT thinking of who I'm thinking of right now, right? Right??

MC: *rubs their eyes* Eh? Um... no? Maybe?

Witch: Do NOT summon Belphegor! No one ever summons Belphegor!! Especially to go to sleep at night!!

MC: Huh...? 😕 Why not? Isn't sleep what he's good at...?

Witch: Yeah sure, if you're looking to never wake up again! Drink some sleepy time tea or something, but keep Belphegor out if it! You're going to get yourself killed!!

MC: What do you...? *they blink then, suddenly, it actually seems to piece together for them for once* Oh. Oh! You must mean that Belphegor...

MC: Don't worry, he promised to never kill me again, so I'm safe.

Witch: That's not the-wait did you just say "again?"

MC: I'm going to bed now. Goodnight...

*the MC gets up and starts back towards their room without answering the question and their roommate calls after them*

Witch: Don't bring him or I'm taking selfies at your funeral, you hear??

~The Next Morning~

*their witch friend steps out into the kitchen, completely drained after having some AWFUL dreams the night before, just to see a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed MC in the middle of making breakfast. Their newly refreshed look is so radiant that they're practically glowing with health*

MC: Good morning~!! Would you like some pancakes? 😊

Witch: ..... I'm trying so hard not to hate you right now.....

MC: H-huh? Why?? 😨

MC Summoning Diavolo??

Witch: So... Could you do it?

*MC and their witch buddy are sitting on the floor of their living room with MC's summoning equipment in front of them. Both of them have their arms crossed as they run through their hypothetical*

MC: I mean, maybe I could... But I dunno. I not even sure where to start...

Witch: MC. You are probably the most successful summoner I've ever seen. I say just go with your gut.

MC: Oh? My gut, huh...? 🤔

*after some quiet reflection, MC grabs their chalk and begins to sketch out a new circle, making it a much larger one than all the rest*

MC: Let's see... we'd need a sigil so.

*they swipe in three long slash marks, then fill them out until look like taloned legs, humming as they go*

Witch: *frowns* Uh... MC? Isn't that just the corporate logo for the Three-Legged Crow?

MC: Yep! I figured since Dia owns the place, it should probably work. 😁

Witch: *blinks furiously* Wait, he owns what-

MC: Forget I said that. Anyway. Now we need the offering! Uhhhmm... *they tap their chin before breaking into an excited grin*

MC: I'll go get some McDonald's!

Witch: What???

MC: Dia loves human world fast food when he can have it, so that ought to work! *they start to gather their things to go out, but stop just before the door*

MC: Oh! While I'm gone, look around my room for my copy of Dark Persona 4! Levi says he's been getting into that series a lot.

Witch: He plays video games too???

MC: Only when he can! Just trust me, I'll be right back! 😁

~Twenty minutes and three orders of cheeseburgers later~

MC: Okay! Almost ready!

*they take a proud step back from their work of ritualistically arranging cheeseburgers, french fries, and ketchup packets on the makeshift summoning circle and... it sure is something. Just as their witch friend is starting to lose all hope that this idea could ever hold water, the MC goes on to add the final touch by plopping the Devil Station game right in the middle of it all. They take one BIG step back and....*

*...nothing happens*

Witch: .... Huh. Well. I guess there's stuff even you can't do-

*the markings on the ground suddenly radiate a light brighter than the sun that gets snuffed out by the growing shadows in the room. It's as if every ounce of darkness surrounding them is attempting to funnel its way towards circle's center, swirling in place like an inky black portal to the hellish depths below. Just as the MC and their friend dive behind their couch for protection, the darkness suddenly dissipates and everything, surprisingly, returns to normal*

Witch: *shakily looks at the wrecked room from behind the couch cushions, pale as could be* ... Wh-wha... what... the fuuu...

*MC's phone starts going off, startling them both, but they pick it up anyway*

MC: H-ello...? O-oh Dia!!

MC: No, no I'm fine there isn't any emergency!...

MC: No, please stay put!! I was just messing around with a friend, but I'll be way more careful going forward!

MC: .... And what would Barbs say?

MC: .... Yeah, I didn't think so, but I'll come back to see you soon, okay?

Witch: *springs to their feet reaching PEAK frustration with it all*

Witch: SERIOUSLY, WHAT EVEN ARE YOU?!?

MC Summoning... Barbatos...?

Witch: MC. This is an emergency.

MC: Yeah but-

Witch: He'll be here any minute. We're screwed!!

MC: Maybe it won't be so bad-!

Witch: I saw him buying JELLYFISH yesterday, MC! JELLYFISH!!!

MC: ..... 😨 What if we disconnect the stove???

Witch: MC!!!

*their friend pulls out their own summoning chalk and shoves it into MC's hands, clasping them closed in a desperate plea for help*

Witch: We have to some kind of meal plan in place or Solomon is going to make us dinner tonight. You know and I know that there's only ONE person who can keep him out of the kitchen at this point. MC, you have to summon Barbatos!!

MC: B-but...! But-!!

*their friend doesn't wait for them to finish before pulling them down onto the ground and making enough room for them to start drawing*

Witch: THERE'S NO TIME!! Do it, MC!! Do it!!

*they lean back to watch as the MC rests th summoning chalk on the ground, but rather than drawing their hand remains perfectly still...*

Witch: MC? What are you waiting for??

*their friend leans over to get a good look at their face, and they see that the MC's forehead is already glistening with beads of sweat... Their hand goes from still, to trembling slightly when they attempt to make their first stroke... only for their grip to snap the chalk in half completely. The MC stares quietly at their hand for a few moments, before setting everything down and pulling out their cellphone instead*

MC: Y-you know, I think I'm just going to call him.... 😥

*as their witch friend watches the being who hugged Lucifer, tamed Belphegor, and (unofficially) summoned the Demon Prince himself, chicken out of summoning this one last demon they know, a single question burns deep down in the pit of their stomach*

"Just how scary is that butler...???" 😰

#favoritism. #the answer is favoritism #i almost want to make this witch an official OC #the comedic potential is truly endless #long post #even for me #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me ask #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

[captainofthedauntless]

hii i really like your writing!! <33 i was wondering if we could get something for y/n asking their turt to be their valentine? i was gonna ask for bayverse but i saw your rules said you were most confident with writing 2003 so whatever you like best! take as much time as you need!! <333333 p.s. heres a cookie *cookie*

Hi lovely! We're all cool pretending it's still Valentine's, right? Awesome.

I chose Bayverse for now, but plan to do the 03 guys soon! I took the friends-to-lovers route here, I hope you enjoy.

(As always, set post-movies!)

So you want to ask a turtle out.

Don's an observant guy, so it's not that he's completely shocked that you like him. But to have that suspicion, quiet and dangerous in the back of his mind, confirmed? To have you ask him directly? He's mystified. It's one thing to think he might have a chance, but it's another thing altogether to have a chance handed to him on a silver platter.

So when you catch him in between tasks and offer him a box of chocolates- a brand April had brought down one time and he had mentioned really enjoying and you had somehow remembered, because apparently he wasn't the only observant one here- and smile at him, warm and fond and visibly nervous, he's left blinking at you. Then, apparently taking his pause as a lack of understanding- or just trying to fill the silence, he couldn't be sure- you speak.

"Would you be my Valentine?"

And he's gone. Don.EXE has stopped working, would you like to restart? It's like static in his mind for a beat, two, and suddenly he's nodding quickly and a smile is growing on his face and "Yeah! Yeah, of course- yes. I'd love to."

He shares the chocolate with you, and on his, like, seventh piece, he finally works up the nerve to ask you if you meant "Valentine" like romantically, and your laugh is good-natured enough that he can't even bother to be embarrassed.

"Like romantically, yeah."

"Cool, cool. I thought so, but it's not actually an exclusively romantic term and- interestingly enough there seems to be a rise in platonic usage, I was just reading an article about it the other day-"

He goes on for several minutes. You listen patiently, and right as he's about to apologize for the tangent you ask him a question and he's grinning like an idiot and launching into an answer and it's officially the best Valentine's Day ever, and he's already plotting ways to get you back for it.

Leonardo is, honestly, a little irritated. Not because you asked! No, no, he's elated- ecstatic- about that. He's so happy he doesn't know what do with it all.

But you beat him to it, and that's... it's a little frustrating. The turtle was slow, and he's not the biggest fan of the irony.

He had a plan. He had a whole plan- he finally worked up the nerve to tell you he cared for you (he wasn't willing to say the L word just yet, but he did love you, and it was getting to be too much to ignore), he'd convinced April to get him your favorite chocolate (he'd gathered intel from your "secret" stash at your place, where you kept the good stuff out of Mikey's hands. He had been very stealthy and was more than a little proud of himself and a lot in debt to April- he'd be watching her favorite awful TV shows with her for months), and he'd written you a short poem (and edited, and scrapped, and rewritten said poem) and tied it to the heart-shaped box of sweet goodness with a blue ribbon.

He'd proceeded to convince himself that was a little too much, and swapped the blue for silver.

Leo had rehearsed exactly what he'd say. He knew when he'd do it, where his brothers would be (well out of the way, with a clear unspoken threat of extra patrol and training if they went off-plan), and what he would eat for dinner beforehand so that he had the absolute smallest possible chance of his nerves hijacking his stomach.

And then you show up with forget-me-nots and gardenias tied up in blue ribbon, which. First of all, that explains why you wanted to borrow his book on flower language a few weeks back. Secondly, the message of secret love, true love, respect, and shared history, all tied up in his color? It nearly kills him.

"Leo, would you do me the honor of being my Valentine?"

"Stay right here," He says firmly, dashing off to his bed before he could process your owlish blink. He pulls the chocolate box out from underneath it and rushes back, smiling sheepishly at the way your concern immediately melts into fond amusement. "Only if you'll be mine."

"Deal," You laugh, trading him the fragrant bouquet for the heart-shaped box, and he busies himself with inspecting and smelling the flowers while you read his poem.

At the end of the day, he earns himself a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a Valentine, so maybe you asking wasn't really the issue he thought it was.

Mikey beats you to asking.

He asks you a week ahead of time, and it's a real splashy affair- he goes all out, pestering April into helping him get all kinds of candy and a big, orange stuffed bear with a heart in its little paws and a pink basket big enough for all of it. He begs his brothers and father to give him the living room of the lair for the evening, and even agrees to do Raph's chores for a week and a half in exchange. He sets the basket up on the couch, tries out about three hundred different combinations of the million lights littering the lair to create the perfect "romantic and intimate but not too suggestive but not too dark but not too bright" ambience, and absolutely agonizes over the playlist of easy, romantic R&B.

He's the one to greet you at the metaphorical front door of the lair and guide you into the living room, and when you look at him quizzically- and hopefully, he notes with delight- he takes your hands and a deep breath.

"Angel, would you be my Valentine?"

"Dammit, Mikey..." You grumble, and if it weren't for the grin you were biting back and the way you were squeezing his hands like you never wanted to let go, he'd be pretty damn scared right about now. "I was gonna ask you. I had a whole plan."

"You can still ask me later, gorgeous," He says with a big grin of his own. "I'll totally act surprised."

"How kind."

"That's me. Now, uh, you're kinda leavin' me hangin', here."

"I'll happily be your Valentine, Mikey."

Raph was not going to ask. He did not see this coming, did not see your feelings, did not think twice about his plan to spend Valentine's Day like he always did: with extra-buttery popcorn and rom-coms.

His plan was to basically not think about how you'd probably be spending it with someone, happy and laughing and smiling.

No, you hadn't mentioned having plans. No, you'd never mentioned a significant other- or even a love interest. No, neither of those things stopped him from assuming.

So when you waltzed into his space with a knock at the entryway and a big ol' grin, he was preparing himself for a whole ooey-gooey story about whoever had swept you off your feet. Preparing himself to act like that didn't eat him alive.

And apparently the lucky bastard had gotten you flowers, which was not helping.

"Hey, Big Red," You say fondly, leaning against the wall and fiddling with a flower stem and looking like a daydream, and his heart did something funny in his chest. "You busy?"

"Why, wanna gloat about your night?" He asks, fighting to keep his tone in the realm of playful and away from anything bitter and yearning.

"Was hoping to ask you a question, actually."

He hums a question of his own, now thoroughly confused.

"Would you be my Valentine?" You ask, holding the flowers out sweetly.

He, in a brilliant moment of zero filter, says "What the fuck?" and your smile drops the smallest bit and he very seriously considers tossing himself off of the Chrysler building.

You open your mouth, and he launches himself out of bed before you can get a word out, gently pulling the flowers out of your hand.

"Why?" He asks gruffly, very clearly avoiding your gaze as he studies a delicate petal.

"...Because I... have feelings for you?" You half admit, half ask, sounding as confused as he felt and staring at him with wide eyes. "If I've read this wrong-"

"No." He forces- forces- himself to look you in the eye, which lasts all of about a second before he's counting it as a win and looking back at the flowers. "But I'm not sure it's somethin' you should read."

"I'm not sure I asked that."

And he can't argue with that, because he knows the tone in your voice, knows he'd be better off arguing with the wall. But he can question it, because.... well, for a lot of reasons.

He should ask a lot of questions. Like "why?" and "did you hit your head?" and "is this a prank or somethin'?", but all that comes out is "Me?"

It makes you smile for some reason, and you step forward a little and duck into his line of sight and meet his eyes with about three and a half times the sincerity he could handle. "Who else?" You ask simply.

He has about a dozen retorts to that, but with you holding his gaze and heart hostage, he just nods. "Okay."

#*writing #*headcanons #donatello x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #michelangelo x reader #donatello #leonardo #michelangelo #raphael #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt 2014 x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader #imagines #headcanons #bayverse x reader #2014 #x reader

[olderthannetfic]

Oh for fuck sake.

Look, I am sympathetic up to a point.

But I find it telling that you keep asking for feedback and help but largely glossing over the one most relevant piece of feedback, which is that

YOU ARE REALLY OBVIOUSLY DEALING WITH A DISABILITY

"I'll get a tutor when I can" really does not reassure me that you grasp what is actually going on here, which is that you're the equivalent of a colorblind person going "No, but explain green to me!" over and over.

It's not just that you've said you don't have close friends: It's that you said you had friends up till around middle school and then not after. It's the way you can't figure out how to show more than surface level interest in others or treat them as having interiority. It's the way that you assume everyone else will be hyper-literal. It's the way that you think stating "I don't think X" in any way trumps behaving as though you do think X and then are mystified that absolutely everyone cares about the latter and not the former.

All of this is very familiar, and it adds up to being on the spectrum or something else of that sort. An exact diagnosis needs someone qualified, in person.

This smells like undiagnosed and unmanaged neurodivergence on the level of disability to me. There's nothing morally wrong with having a brain that is different, but at the point that it's fucking up your life, you have to go deal with it.

No, there isn't one succinct youtube video that covers anti dogwhistles, but even if there were, I don't think it would help.

The reality is that trying to do a close reading of why such-and-such a comment has a subtext of X or why that word is bad because Y isn't going to help here. Maybe, maybe some resources on what to do when your disability has tanked your social prospects might, but it's a long shot.

This is a problem that is far more severe and deep-seated than what internet randos can help with.

[one-million-kruge]

my six of crows hcs

I need to read Crooked Kingdom but I can't for at least another week and it's killing me so take this very self indulgent list

Kaz Brekker

-He finds it really hard to apologize so he literally buys a gazillion super expensive gifts for whichever Crow, refuses to elaborate, and walks away. Matthias is mystified by this.

-Kaz hates emotional attachments with people because he could easily lose them like he lost Jordie, so he made them with his cane and gloves instead.

-For a while as a coping mechanism, Kaz legitimately treated 'Rietveld' Kaz and 'Brekker' Kaz as two different people. When he was triggered by something or other he told himself it was Rietveld messing with him.

-He researched Saints so that he could know and understand Inej's religion, even though he had no obligation to. He also pretends he hates hearing her talking about it but just hearing the passion in her voice makes Kaz happy.

Inej Ghafa

-Similarly to Kaz, she has emotional attachments to her knives because after her time at the Menagerie it became really hard for her to trust people.

-Inej learned how to walk silently at the Menagerie because she needed to sneak around in order to get stuff she needed to survive, whether it be food or something to stitch herself up with.

-She enjoys being on the sea because it gives her a sense of freedom similar to how acrobatics made her feel.

-Inej has never once pitied Kaz, just felt anger for what others (*cough cough* pekka rollins) had done to him. Every time she sees him panic she feels a mixture of sadness and pure rage.

Jesper Fahey

-Jesper has a diary because he feels emotions in a very big way and he needs some way to get them out. He hides it under his bed and let me tell you it is bright pink.

-When he is stressed (often) he plays with his guns. Like, safety on, but he flips them around in his hands and whatever because it reminds him of his mother and her memory makes him feel safe.

-When on heists, Jesper legit takes any opportunity to wear high heels. There is no need to. The Crows make fun of him for it. He does not care.

-Jesper is typically very fidgety but whenever he's near Wylan he's just automatically much calmer. Wylan is like Milo for his stress but better. It's even better when he's touching Wylan in some way, shape, or form.

Wylan Van Eck

-If Wylan hears a phrase or saying or something of the like that he thinks is nice or cool, he writes it in musical notes (similarly to how he labels chemicals and such) and tacks it up on a wall or something.

-When he was younger and his father would use horrible tactics to try and get him to be able to read, he just took it and assumed it was normal because he didn't have a frame of reference (not being able to read books or make friends very well). Some days he felt he deserved it.

-Wylan loves symbolic art because it's a way for him to take in a story without having to read it. He loves making up interpretations of symbolic paintings and connecting unrelated ones into a continuous story.

-He is really not assertive at all and finds it hard to read the room, so Wylan always asks Jesper before he does anything affectionate. He sometimes gets embarrassed about it, but Jesper always reassures him that it's very cute and sexy of him.

Nina Zenik

-Nina is bisexual (canon) and in terms of her preferences she finds women to be hotter, but she loves men beyond physical attraction more often. Whenever people try to tell her that she's straight because of that she either punches them or knocks them out for a few minutes depending on how she's feeling that day.

-Nina loves fucking with people by speaking a language to them that they don't speak and then gaslighting them into thinking that she was speaking the language they do speak.

-She is like the #1 hype squad for Inej, and it's literally the only thing that Kaz and her can agree on. They literally get into compliment battles but they're complimenting Inej.

-Nina finds it hilarious how actually innocent Matthias is, so sometimes when they speak, she makes progressively more lewd innuendos to see how long it takes for him to catch on.

Matthias Helvar

-Matthias is super gullible and will believe almost anything someone tells him unless it is far too outlandish to be true. The rest of the Crows (bar Inej and Wylan) use this to their advantage often.

-Back when he hunted Grisha, everyone else said he was most definitely the least likely to become a traitor but also the most likely to be the nicest to the Grisha. Guess where they were wrong.

-Matthias tries his best to be mischievous and absolutely fails every time. He just feels bad about it and so he immediately apologizes even though all of his "mischief" isn't even that bad.

-Whenever Nina needs anything, Matthias will immediately do it/get it for her. Whether it's getting a book off of a shelf that she can't quite reach or committing homicide, he is always ready and willing.

#ugh i love them so much #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wesper #nina zenik #matthias helvar #helnik #six of crows #soc #grishaverse #headcanon #i seriously need to read crooked kingdom. #not on this list but jesper and nina would be the biggest swifties #and kaz would know every lyric to every song purely because jesper would listen to her so much #rambles #six of crows headcanons

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

Demon Kyojuro and Senjuro AU!

First off tho! Credit! This design was inspired by @lokh ‘s demon Kyojuro design! Which can be found here. It's extremely cool please go reblog it!!!!

Explanation of my AU is under the cut :)

Okay! so!

this AU begins after Kyojuro's survival of the Mugen Train.

He takes months to begin to get near fully healed but he'd never be healthy enough to become an active demon slayer again, much less a hashira.

Then Senjuro gets diagnosed with the same disease that killed their mother and it all spirals.

Akaza makes a startling appearance and becomes a frequent visitor.

Akaza isn't stupid, he knows he can't convince Kyojuro to become a demon willingly, convincing him to turn his dying little brother while hes vulnerable in multiple ways (physically, emotionally etc) on the other hand ? He switches tactics. It works.

They run, because Kyojuro knows the consequences of what he's done and isn't willing to face them.

Because of Kyojuro's presence Senjuro was able to retain his memories and full autonomy.

The same cannot be said for Kyojuro later, who is turned unwillingly (note: NOT by Akaza). He looses his memories and most of his speech (he can talk, its just choppy and mostly one word sentences). All he remembers is his love for his little brother and dislike of Akaza and other demons.

He becomes a sort of...demonic vigilante? He does eat, but only when he needs to and tries very hard to only attack and eat those he deems morally corrupt. When it comes to demon slayers, those he considers innocent or morally just he preforms quick, 'mercy' killings.

I'm not quite sure what his demon blood art would be yet but I'm thinking its something simple like him just setting alight and burning people (which, when slayers begin to find bodies of people who were clearly killed by a demon but burned it mystifies them. Demons aren't know to 'cook' their food). Knowing the Rengoku name means Purgatory you could say it's a form of hell-like punishment. He only burns those he considers morally corrupt.

A note about Senjuro: he refuses to eat and it worries Kyojuro to no end.

Senjuro wants to tell his brother about who they were and why whats going on is wrong but hes under strict instruction and threat from Akaza to not. (the threat being Akaza tracking down and attacking people like Tanjiro, their father, Kocho and such).

Another thing about Senjuro is that even as a demon he's weak. Well comparatively to humans he's much stronger but he's still nowhere near useful in combat. This angers both him and Akaza.

and...that's it so far! this has been a lot of rambling but i've fallen in love w this AU so i hope u can forgive me :)

There is a short playlist for this AU! You can find it here <3

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #fanart #art #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku #senjuro #rengoku senjuro #rengoku brothers #demon AU #demon rengoku #demon senjuro #baby's art #DRB AU

[maxiemumdamage]

If it wasn’t clear I finally read Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

And I’m…mystified? By the criticisms of it which I had already seen plenty of before reading the actual book. Most complaints were about 1. pacing, 2. the POV character being a whiny brat/already evil, and 3. the overdramatic nature of everything. I’m not even gonna touch on that last thing, because people have always said it about the Hunger Games and it’s never been as true as they want it to be (the “Baby Bomb” in Catching Fire and Reaper’s moment with the flag come to mind, but there’s plenty of examples).

But like…I saw complaints that it took too long for the plot to pick up, but I was enthralled from the beginning. The ending was very harried and kinda rushed, sure, but that was also sort of the point — Coriolanus has a breakdown in the woods and in doing so goes past the point of no return with Lucy, so he returns to the Capitol and becomes the dictator we all know. It might've felt more jarring if I hadn't known that was how it would end, but...we all knew going in there was no way Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray Baird would run away and live in the woods together. Because before we ever knew Coryo, we knew President Snow. We knew where he'd end up.

I feel most of those complaints were rooted in the fact people always expect the Hunger Games books to be about...the Hunger Games. They view it like they're in the Capitol, like the Games themselves are the entertainment and focus and point of the story. They’re not, even when we’re reading about the creation of the Games as they became what they were in canon. The Games were never the point — it was about the people and world that created them. I went in expecting a post-war climate, and the saga of how a clever, manipulative young man worked his way into power, and as such I was immensely satisfied. This is about Snow becoming the cruel person we know, with some of his worst qualities being there from minute one and others taking time to be built or reinforced.

My biggest gripe is the romance. Yep, SnowBaird, the huge draw for every TikTok Songbirds and Snakes movie fan, just felt so out of place to me when it happened in the book. Lucy just got out of a romantic relationship that bit her in a truly spectacular fashion. But ok, sure. She's desperate, pretty much completely alone, and Coriolanus is very kind and supportive in his actions and she can't hear his self-serving and obnoxious internal monologue.

Coriolanus, though...I never understood why he seemed to be in love with her. He has a grudging almost-respect for Lucy Gray that he doesn't give anyone else, but I figured that was more because she demonstrated her cunning and talents where he could dismiss most others. She’s a performer, she’s got talent and poise, she’s forced to win people over (like him! (it’s not. his life never depended on it in the violent and final way hers did)).

And maybe it was necessary, that Snow thinks he’s in love. Because it’s at the core of the possessiveness, the jealousy, that colors so many of his interactions with Lucy. He has to be in love, so we can assign meaning or justifications to his actions. And then he tidily betrays everyone he supposedly loved, and it becomes clearer he’s only ever cared about himself.

And in general, I rarely understand romantic plots. And especially here, the point isn’t romance. It’s trust. Trust Coriolanus fails to extend to practically everyone, and it’s ultimately why he can’t make a better choice than to run back to the Capitol and Gaul.

#if it wasn’t clear: I really liked the book. #the fact I don’t really UNDERSTAND where the romance came from doesn’t mean I don’t think it serves a very important narrative purpose #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #max.txt

[shuttershocky]

I just finished Chapter 9 of Mahoyo and I'm curious about your thoughts on something -- do you think its narrator is reliable? In specific, the narrative's claim that Touko's actions are driven by her search for the Root, not hatred, raises my brow, because it feels like something another mage would say, and certain other TM works are of course famous for their OWN unreliable narrators, as well as highlighting many ways in which mages are often dysfunctional balls of tightly repressed emotions.

The funny thing about Mahoyo is that unlike Tsukihime and Fate/Stay Night, it uses an omniscient narrator that can get into the thoughts of any character in a scene, but just like Tsukihime and Fate/Stay Night, you can't actually take the narration at face value, it's biased to which character whose thoughts it is narrating.

This is a bit of a hard take because third person omniscient narrators aren't usually supposed to be unreliable (because they are omniscient), however, even if Aoko and Alice AND the narration claim that Soujuurou is wrong, they never offer any counter-explanation for why Touko moves the way she does. They can only say he's wrong that Touko is motivated by something as petty as wounded pride, even while they fail to explain her actions being inefficient and unpragmatic for a mage.

The easiest example to point out is this: Why didn't Touko kill Aoko as soon as she was disowned as the Aozaki heir? Aoko herself is mystified about it. At the time that Touko was disowned, Aoko had no training while Touko was in her prime, she could have easily overpowered their grandfather and killed Aoko to claim her birthright, but she didn't and instead left and traveled the world.

Soujuurou says it's because Touko murdering a defenseless Aoko would be meaningless. She needs Aoko to be trained as a mage and given the family's heritage before Touko fights her for it, just so that Aoko can feel just a little of what it was like for Touko to be trained to the point of abuse all her life only to be tossed aside for seemingly no reason than Grandfather's whim. Aoko, Alice, AND the narrator say he's wrong, naive, that he insults the pragmatism of mages and how it's impossible for a stupid country boy like him to understand, but can offer nothing themselves. No proper counter-explanation, and nothing within the narrative that proves they were right.

Touko spends most of the VN outmaneuvering Aoko and Alice, with them not even uncovering the identity of the mage they're at war with until she reveals herself, while Soujuurou finds her before even knowing magic exists, finds her hideout, and even finds her secret weapon, merely by living his day to day ordinary life while Alice and Aoko hunt in the city as mages.

I would say the narrator of Mahoyo is biased to whoever's thoughts its currently narrating, because if the narrator is actually reliable then Touko's actions really do make no sense at all. She could have slaughtered her baby sister at any time in the last few years, but she didn't.

It's also important to point out that Aoko being incredibly wrong about Touko's motivations in the entire second half of the novel wouldn't be strange at all, considering she spends the first half of Mahoyo also being incredibly wrong about someone else: she thought Soujuurou acted stupidly brave about witnessing magecraft because he was in love with her, not realizing that to a mountain boy who grew up without electricity, a telephone was practically magic

#Mahoyo #Witch on the holy night

[astrum-aetherium]

What do you think Henry whispered in Camilla's ear at the end? It's a moment that really stuck with me somehow and I love hearing theories about it

what can possibly be more personal, more ponderous and intimate than i love you?

i'm sure this is something everyone who has read TSH has previously wondered about. i know i have. what i also know is that the most common theory is "live forever", and yes — it would make sense, given that henry is undeniably a devoted little teacher's pet to julian, but it does seem a little melodramatic to me (specifically because julian did abandon them all in the end as well, lol). henry going out with a bang (literally) wouldn't be defined by something as simple as that, however much meaning is attached to it in theory. besides, we've all heard that theory a million times over. i'll offer a new one.

he's goddamn pretentious. to the bone. he refused to take his SATs and thereby consciously denied himself the opportunity to attend any prestigious schools (which he would've certainly gotten into and dominated) for singularly aesthetic reasons. you simply can't get more pretentious than that. i always say that he's too intelligent for his own good — to the point it no longer benefits him at times. just too smart to possess any ability to reflect on himself. almost amusing in that way.

therefore, i believe it was something along the lines of a riddle — something that would keep camilla puzzling over it for a long time succeeding his death. and yes, you can say that his suicide was an impulsive decision and all that, but he had been (even verbally) entertaining suicidal ideology way before he actually went through with it. plus, he just seems like someone who would have something like that — his last words — memorized and ready to go at all times, specifically at a time as dangerous as toying with the possibility of being detained and thrown in jail for murder. just a thought.

i'm almost 100% sure it was also in any language other than english, according to his customs. i've already elaborated on how pretentious he is. he wouldn't make it easy for anyone to figure him out that quickly, not even camilla. the i love you was just a premise, nearly nothing compared to the whisper. and if it's not english, then it must be one of the languages that he does know. assuming that it's either latin or ancient greek, he would go out of his merry way to make it as complex and hardly translatable as he can. he would apply the most archaic of archaic versions of those languages, even with one simple phrase. as i said, he would've planned it out beforehand deliberately. it makes perfect sense.

what it would be, however, is a whole other conversation of its own. maybe that very "i love you" or previously mentioned "live forever", just in a different language. that is the simplest answer i can offer. i like to dig deeper when it comes to mysteries such as this one, though, so i've been gathering my thoughts all day today in order to predominantly satisfy myself with an obnoxiously pretentious answer. how about: "to the stars" (kitsch but fitting, obviously convoluted, and in a different language) or a translated version of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" — just to deride religion and tradition one last time. or, perhaps, "permanence". something that perpetuates his convicted disbelief in vanitas. "never gone"; "the conclusion". and i know, all of these sound dumb as hell in english, but do remember — they would be uttered in a different language, and in a complex way, too. to be mulled over; wondered about for a long time, even as a scholar.

someone needs to hook me up with ms tartt's phone number so we can settle this once and for all, lol. but then again, i don't want to know. i don't want a simple answer to such a mystifying, ponderous question. i'm fine with eternally musing over it — it certainly keeps me entertained.

#astrum asks #henry winter #the secret history #donna tartt #camilla macaulay #tsh #tsh theory #live forever is a very good guess but it's simple #and i don't like simple answers to complex questions #especially when it comes to theorizing about books #i have an english major mind through and through

[colemckenzies]

Jesus Christ Superstar: Ultimate Edition

this easter It Is Time. using my years of fixation and research i present to you The Best Version of every song from jesus christ superstar, plus commentary. obviously subjective opinion so do feel free to discourse in the tags bc as you may have picked up i enjoy talking about the relative merits of jcs productions. also i might not even stand by this in a week bc i find it hard to keep multiple versions in my head at the same time for comparison and there are so so many versions.

please note that acting, vocal quality, music direction, and where available staging have all been taken into account. act 2 in rb bc of link restrictions.

heaven on their minds - 2012 broadway revival

obviously in terms of pure vocals carl anderson is unbeatable forever, but the staging of the 2012 broadway revival pips it for me. josh young's voice is still gorgeous and the judas/jesus/mary throuple is everything. i love versions where hotm is sung directly To jesus, and i love that in this version jesus actually listen and takes judas' concerns on board. the love and respect between all three of them is palpable and even though it is a serious disagreement, part of that disagreement comes from the fact that they care about each other so much. that's tragedy baby!

special mention to henrike tönnes on the 2022 rob carroll version, i specifically like the Ending of the song for that one. also the sarcastic clap along w the disciples that judas does in the 2013 hungary version.

what's the buzz/ strange thing mystifying - 2018 tv event

annoyingly this isn't on youtube but tbh the staging is nothing mindblowing. i think what's the buzz is a great song for showcasing the usp of each version and in this one i think being able to hear the real crowd actually cheering for jesus (john legend) really adds to the narrative. i also absolutely love brandon victor dixon and as i have said before he would be one of my favourite judases if judas were straight. sara bareilles does a great 'offended' face when he bitches about her lmao.

honourable mention to the 2012 uk arena tour for again showing off the conceit of 'modern day activists' really well in this song, not forgetting of course WOTS THE BUZZ #buzz tweet

then we are decided - 2013 hungary

(starts at about 9:49) obviously not a huge amount of competition for this one, i wish more versions included it bc it's a great song :( anyway i loveee the staging choice to have everyone else freeze-framed on stage with the priests walking among them, and i freaking love this caiaphas. literally inserting it into what's the buzz also works nicely

i do miss kurt yaghjian from the 1973 film tho, forever obsessed with his voice and facial expressions. extra shout out to the striving artists version for simply existing.

everything's alright - 2006 austria

something about the musical direction in 90% of versions of this song goes right through me, like there is always some weird instrument that makes me Cringe. but this version is Nice :) really enjoy how Pissed this judas is. and i love the way the long notes last into the next section of the song. i will say i prefer the alt melody for 'people who are hungry' but you can't have everything

this is a really nice one on the all-female cast recording as well, obviously it's already the most female-heavy song of the show but shoshana bean's judas is particularly good here i think. also of course carl anderson with tears in his eyes grasping ted neely's hands while the music swells is ingrained on my brain for all time.

this jesus must die - 1994 studio cast

this album as a whole is probably my Least Favourite JCS Ever, but i will admit that this song fucks. the haunting eeriness at the beginning. the way it kicks into a funky little syncopated rhythm. the disembodied hosannas. unexpected delight.

2012 uk arena tour is unfortunately disqualified for having possibly the Most antisemitic portrayal of the priests, which is a shame because it's probably my favourite casting. one of my favourite annas portrayals, but in general all of them are distinct and fully embodied which does make that version very fun to watch. i also really enjoy the 2019 castaway productions version for this song, the way they play instruments while they sing like a lil band, and caiaphas' eye make-up is sick. 1973 film is obviously also iconic with the little scaffolding tippy taps, and the way kurt yaghjian sings 'a trick-or-two with lepers'. i love this song sorry.

hosanna - 2017 striving artists

i kind of don't have justification for this one LOL i just like it. i know there are versions that are sung better and really the staging is quite important for this song but idk i just find this version really calming. i don't know if it's the music direction? i don't know enough about music tbh

admittedly this is another one that works really well for the 2018 tv event, but doesn't quite win for me as the crowd don't cheer in all the right places and john legend doesn't react at all to the 'would you DIE for me?' line which is crucial. for good reaction to that line the 2000 film where it elevates the bitchy gay tension in the love triangle really nails it.

simon zealotes - 2011 austria

EASYYY WIN FOR ME this is actually the song that made me want to pick a best version for each one because this version IS so much better than any other one for me. the guitar!!!!!! rob's energy!! the music design for this one really fucks so severely and then there's just rob jumping around hyping up the crowd (there is a film version from 2008 on youtube, but i wanted to capture the music for this one). iconic.

big love also to hungary 2013 for having a simon who's in a wheelchair, particularly notable when it's really the highest energy role in the show. i do enjoy.

poor jerusalem - 2022 rob carroll

i cannot find any information about this album other than what's on spotify but i do enjoy the slight alt melodies in this version and i like his voice.

not a lot to go into for this song really. i like the ben forster version a lot as well, and the 1996 london cast version. 'close your eyes' is a better lyric than 'live a lie'. moving on.

pilate's dream - 2022 all-female cast

may be biased bc I LOVE ORFEH but i just think this version is so gorgeous. i love the little vocal drifts without going too overboard and distracting from the song. the music composition is especially pleasing as well.

there's a lot of honourable mentions i could give here bc i think pilate has so much potential for power and gravitas, but 1973 film, 2012 uk arena tour, 2013 hungary, and east end theatrical ensemble. are also big favs. in terms of staging i love the fact that 2019 castaway productions has jesus himself on stage playing the backing piano like he actually is haunting pilate.

the temple - 1992 australia

australia 1992 habitually has some of the most interesting and creative music direction and this is one of the songs where it particularly pays off. love the whistles. i also like that the second 'get out' is spoken, not screamed. the second half is appropriately creepy with the sustained 'chriiiist'. pretty boring staging but at least the costumes are fun.

i don't know how to love him - east end theatrical ensemble

possibly controversial choice but ugh i love this version i even love how low the sound quality is. like listening to a vinyl. i think her voice is so gorgeous and i love her accent. deeply soothing to listen to. i feel like im in the 70s rn.

i'm also a huge fan of the 1996 london cast recording, joanna ampil has such a sweet voice and the way she emotes so that you can really Hear it works well for this song. special shout out to 2012 uk arena tour which i don't think is a particularly amazing version but we get the absolute gunshow from mel c at the end so we love it.

damned for all time/blood money - 1973 film

CARL!! I feel like 1973 film and 1996 london album are at a disadvantage in this bc they're what i grew up with so i kind of take them for granted but this is undeniably iconic. no one can commit to the tortured soul but belief he's doing the right thing like him. the way he can scream but it still sounds Good. i prefer versions that have annas suggest 'a fee' rather than caiaphas just repeating himself so that's here too. the weird keening way he sings 'on thursday night'. annas dropping the coins just as he reaches for them. UGH so good. a lot less brassy than other versions as well.

this is another song that kinda fucks in every version, but the original 1970 album and the 2018 tv event are particularly good i think. also that one bit in 2012 uk arena tour where annas is like '...... get up off the floor.'

#jesus christ superstar #jcs #jcsposting #please don't let this flop i spent all day on it. #will try to add act 2 on rb now otherwise it will be a new post lmao #Spotify

[nottoofondofgaypeople]

The Most Important Polycule

The one that started it all. Irena is a poor girl who has run from everywhere she's known. All that she knows about people and how to be one is from watching, and she's usually content to just bounce around wherever she does, until she lands in Phoenix Drop, a village so down on their luck she can't help but want to help them.

She doesn't officially take the lord position for quite some time, but she starts using her strange random skills she learned from drifters and wanderers to help these people. This naturally brings her to Garroth, the former head guard, who's keen on keeping her safe because she's just a very kind person. Garroth quietly thinks she'd make a good lord, but he never wants to push her to that.

Laurance is introduced in almost the exact same way. I mean it. The full head of hair, obnoxiously green eyes, the so called Cassanova of Meteli. The most flagrantly bisexual man. Laurance is the first person to show outright and very direct interest in Irena, which she's never experienced. Most people are very subtle about it, or don't express it at all because she's well. She's kind of weird. And doesn't always get what they're saying. She's actually just autistic and doesn't know how love works because nobody's explained it in a way that makes sense to her. And Laurance doesn't quite get what her vibe is but she's really fucking pretty, and also not afraid to give him a piece of her mind but in a light hearted way.

A lot of Irena's early interactions have her express herself in rather comedic ways, like she's super witty, because most of the people she learned from were bards and con men. She can be off-putting to some, but to Laurance? A girl who he can say romantics to and she'll respond with some cheeky retort that isn't an outright rejection? And she's beautiful and could maybe beat you in a fight?? Irena is the girl of Laurance's dreams.

And Laurance is always a fiercely dedicated person. He's known Irena for three weeks, and yet he'll still go into the pits of hell by her side. Laurance has read so many romantic poems and stories, I imagine that ancient Greek literature still exists in this universe, and he's read the tragedies of men who thought they could walk through hell and back safe and sound. He knows that Orpheus always turns around to see if Eurydice is there, but he's confident that they won't have to do that. He's confident he'll walk out of hell hand in hand with her.

No, what happens to them is worse. We all know the story. In order to save the life of one of his closest friends and the life of one of the most mystifying people he's ever rapidly fallen in love with, Laurance actively and willingly sacrifices himself. Irena returns to Phoenix Drop days later and when she finds Garroth at the guard station, she just collapses into his arms and begins weeping.

He's caught her crying before, but never like this. She's never completely fallen apart. He doesn't even know what happened, and she's too wracked with guilt to say anything at first. She knows how Laurance felt. She doesn't know what love is exactly supposed to be, but she knows what it looks like. She's seen people fall in love by staring at one another from across a fire pit. She could tell on day two that Laurance was falling hard and fast, and she was honestly scared the same might be happening.

Now she can't even bring herself to admit it out loud because he's gone, and in her eyes, it's her fault. Oddly enough, once she's able to admit some of what happened, omitting certain details about the nature of her and Laurance's relationship, Garroth is actually able to empathize with her. He isn't very direct at the time, but he gives her advice on how to use her grief as a motivator. Laurance sacrificed himself for her sake, and he would want her to keep moving forward.

Content Warning (y'all knew this was coming): Torture

What ends up being a brief period of time without Laurance, only about two months or so for the Overworld, is far far longer in the Nether. Laurance was planning on dying a warriors death, but after he suffered a nearly killing blow, he was kept alive, and dragged back to The Shadow King's castle. The Shadow King is only a phantom at this point, a pitiful version of his former self. But conscious enough to give orders, and to allow Gene to do what he wanted with this Shadow Knight. Let him prove himself.

So Laurance gets tortured. A lot. And is forced to become a shadow knight without dying. Which the Shadow King didn't even think was possible?? How tf did he fuckin do that, fuckin wizard. The entire process is unbearably painful, and Laurance's only solace are memories of Irena, some other prisoner he gets to talk to on the other side of the cell wall, and oddly enough, memories of a guard he hadn't seen in... years. At his lowest moments, Laurance wishes he could see Garroth, wonders where he is, what's happening in his life, if he managed to get the head guard position he rightfully deserved in some thriving village.

It's the last persons name he starts crying that finally breaks him. Laurance starts thinking about his family, about everyone he's lost, everyone he's going to lose is he dies here, and everyone he might lose if he somehow makes it out alive. The existence of shadow knights is contradictory by nature, and it's starting to break Laurance down. He starts to lose his sense of self. It's only when he weeps at the memory of a young boy finding a wounded wyvern in the woods that something finally happens.

Within seconds the wall is broken into, Laurance gets grabbed, and he's suddenly flying through the Nether in his best friends mouth. And going through the open rift between realms? One that was forcibly opened with the life essence of an immortal under dire circumstances? Laurance was not pretty when Irena and Garroth found him. He was malnourished, a little too pale, so many scars, his hair was all fucked up, and when they first found him, he just wasn't breathing.

Eventually Zoey is able to get his condition stable, but Irena refuses to leave his side until he wakes up. Laurance is out for a few days, and she's dedicated to being there when he wakes up. He has to. If he dies, then both his death and Ungrith's are her fault, and she can't let it end like that. He has to wake up. He has to.

When Laurance finally wakes up, he only notices he's blind because he can hear Irena's voice but can't see her face. But he can feel her hand in his. She's alive. His sacrifice wasn't meaningless because she's still alive. This is the point that we really get the ball rolling, and the point that I take the canon story out to the back alley to be violently beaten to death.

When Laurance desperately confesses his love to Irena, she remains quiet. She listens, and only when his breathing starts to even and the panic has subsided a little does she simply mutter the words "I missed you too Laurance."

"Would you say you loved me?" She has to think for a minute. Lots of people have tried to quantify love to her, explain how it feels or what it looks like, and despite best attempts, Irena still struggled with the concept. But when she sees Laurance's beaten form nearly crying, iron grip on her hand, and the weariest smile on his face, she sort of just gets it. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world that she loved him from the first back and forth they had while walking to Castor's house. Suddenly she can see the appeal of spending all her time around another person.

"I suppose I do."

As for Garroth falling for Laurance, I've covered this on my main blog twice before so I'll simplify it here. Laurance has repeated nightmares/night terror related to his experience in the Nether, and when Garroth is comforting him after one, he realizes this fool of a guard he met in the academy all that time ago is still taking up so much space in his mind.

He realizes it's love, and starts freaking the fuck out because Garroth?? Loves two people?? And one of them is a man???? What the fuck is going on??? Unlike my previous musings, there's a lot more time dedicated to this. Laurance's recovery is slow, and while Zane does interrupt this time, when he's gone there's even more time for Garroth, Irena, and Laurance to all just sit with these emotions.

(Trust me I have a lot to say about how I'm handling Zane and what he does to the story in this rewrite, but that is an essays worth of a post unto itself)

Maybe talk about them with their loved ones. Obviously Garroth doesn't talk to anybody at first, but Irena might go to Zoey. Tell her how she's feeling and Zoey has a faint ache in her heart because she still can't bring herself to admit she feels that way about Irena. Laurance talks to Cadenza about how happy Irena makes him, and how much he wants to share that with Garroth. She nearly whacks him over the head and tells him to just fess up to them already, stop talking to her about it when he clearly understands how he feels. Laurance always does, he's just got a lot of room for improvement in communicating it.

And one day when they all manage to have a day off, Laurance sits the two of them down at the docks and the three of them just talk. He spills his guts to them, tries not to be too emotional about it, fails miserably, and they just sort it all out. No need to hold it in, no need for Irena to deny them this time, and even if Garroth faintly thinks this is a waste of time at the start, when Laurance very directly says that he's in love with Garroth, that opinion very quickly changes.

Irena freely admits she doesn't have a lot of experience with love or relationships, but she knows that she feels love for both of them, and she'd like to try something. Even if it's quiet. Even if they have to hide it so Zane doesn't try to use it against them. She wants to try. And well, Garroth really can't say no to them. He's still faintly terrified of being emotional and vulnerable with people, even though he's already been this way with both of them. He's still so paranoid it'll get them hurt.

But he'll learn to let down his guard for them. They're worth it.

#fuuuck this post is long #but it needed to be #and this is only the beginning #minecraft diaries #aphmau #i dont support aphmau #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #text post #mcd headcanons #mcd garroth #mcd #mcd laurance #mcd aphmau #wtf is the ship name for all three of them? #two guards and a lord walk into a bar? #sounds more like a fallout song title than a ship name #garrance #laurmau #garmau #but all at the same time #polyamory #polyam relationship #aphverse #aphblr #shipping discourse #i suppose #these tags are a mess #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvahl

[transmutationisms]

what do you think is being said abt capitalism via kendall’s inability to become ceo? i know the eugenics of it all plays into it w roman’s comment abt iverson / matsson’s comment abt picking the guy who put the baby in the baby lady instead of the baby lady herself

the thing is, i don't think kendall is actually incapable of running waystar, nor are his siblings. in truth it's not that hard lmao, it's just psychologically destructive. there's no actual 'business genius' (gerri calling matsson one should put the nail in the coffin of that particular concept) and it's not like logan never fucked anything up (the loan, the pierce negotiations, every petty firing decision he had to undo because he relied on his c-suite). what kendall failed at was living up to logan's personal standards, because those standards are impossible and internally contradictory. and where tom succeeded was in not trying to be logan, but instead trying to kiss logan's ass. you can win in this company through flattery (tom, gerri, arguably greg) or by already having power that shields you from the consequences of your missteps (logan). alternatively, you can win by not caring about running an empire and instead just accreting wealth without vying for logan's approval (stewy). but you can't win by trying to out-logan logan, because it's impossible and he would punish you for even coming close. kendall ceo would have made some loganish mistakes and some distinctly kendallish mistakes: for instance, he's bad with people in a different way to logan. but he would have had a corporate team cleaning up his mess when necessary, and ceo is kind of a figurehead job anyway. lots of people could do it. even elon musk ceo did not manage to completely destroy twitter. these people love to mystify what they do and act like it requires great acumen and specialised knowledge, but an mba is like 2 years of regurgitating the right jargon and then you just have to go be an asshole like you always were. it's nothing lmao. kendall could've done fine because it's not actually a special achievement or demonstration of personal merit. it's luck and wealth and ass-kissing.