#its always the pretty boy (derogatory)

[yanderenightmare]

you didn't pay Toji his bounty, so now he's coming to collect, and BOY- when he sees YOU and how rich you live all expensive in your mansion and pretty clothes, you can take a wild guess how he's gonna have you pay

Toji Fushiguro

TW: NSFW, noncon, derogatory nicknames, light bondage, spanking, implied breaking and entering

fem reader

Rope eats into your flesh, keeping your legs shut, rendering you unable to do much of anything but hop about like a bunny if you were to try it. Looped tight around each plush thigh right in the crease of your buttcheek, squishing into the fat of your inner thighs to show your kitty in all its wet and swollen glory.

You whine while he pets the folds, simpering condescendingly at you, “Don’t cry, princess- I’m gonna fuck you soon, don’t you worry your pretty little tiara about that…”

You ball your fists as his fingers brutishly rub over your clit, biting your palms with your manicured nails where your wrists are bound together in a neat knot atop your back.

“Just gonna have some fun with you first...”

Toes curled in the plush powder-pink carpet below; you’re bent over the back of your white-leather sofa chair – hips pressed firmly against the spine for every hit his palm makes against your plump tush – branding one cheek before changing and repeating, making the perfect skin welt with his handprint. 

You yelp the first few times, but then you cry – not used to such cruelty, always having been kept all soft and safe – all previous boyfriends vanilla mommy’s boys, not like this beast.

Your knees grew weak beneath you, soon trembling. But he spared you no sympathy despite it – only cooing at you through a wicked grin, clearly mocking you while rubbing soothing circles into the sore flesh with greedy fingers digging into the dough.

You whine when the hand reaches between your thighs again, running over the wet and swollen folds before splitting them – sliding to your hole, then sending two fat digits right inside it. He stations the other hand on the small of your back to keep you still when he brutally starts pumping the tightness.

“Shit- so tight and wet from that-” He jeers, then slaps the soft mound. “You rich sluts are such freaks, ain’t ya-”

The sound of a belt unbuckling comes next, and then the heavy drop of his pants hits the carpet.

You shuffle, but you’re not going anywhere – and if you somehow could, you wouldn’t get very far.

“This is it, princess- the moment you’ve been waiting for,” He groans, lifting the fat of your ass cheek in one hand while pointing his round cockhead up to your twitchy coin-sized hole. 

Clicking his tongue at the pretty sight, he slid his length between your pussylips first – just to tease – fucking the little triangle between your thighs until he was properly bathed in your velvety slick.

You wiggle, but it doesn’t do you anything other than make him lick the teeth of his smile, nudging his tip into your taunt welcome.

Your fingers reach before curling into a pair of tremoring fists, shaking your head in dread at the intrusion, stomach twisting while whimpers escaped you – taking every thick inch of meat one slow second at a time. “Yea~” He laughs breathily, grinning at the sight of you grating your thighs. It was clear you weren’t used to the mass. “I bet that hurts- you’re tight like a fuckin’ virgin-”

He buries his hands in the cake of your ass for purchase, gripping it tight with a hiss while leaning over you – pushing himself as tight and deep as possible – feeling you throttle him while you whine at the stretch – bratty mouth stuffed with your own silk panties. 

You’re breathless once he bottoms out. No air and no sounds, just eyes squeezed tightly shut, seeing white spots – back tense and arched like a cat before dropping into a pretty slope, releasing a filthy wet mewl into your gag – standing on your tippy-toes with thighs shaking.

But the sting is nothing compared to when he starts thrusting – lolling his hips back slowly, letting you feel every ridge and vein drag along your walls, only to slam right back in – the force making the armchair you’re resting on jump forward. 

Kneading your ass, he uses the fat in his grip to pull you back on him – his hips slapping into you from behind – making you choke on it.

You should have fucking paid him – you think in regret once he starts the rhythm, quick and deep. Making you pant out like a dumb little bitch in heat, yelping every time it fucks just a little deeper, hitting someplace new and tender – discovering new places you never even knew existed before now, stimulating every little nerve begging for the attention.

He tangles a fist in your hair, lifting you up until your head rests on his shoulder – one sturdy hand balancing you by the hip whilst the other holds you up by the neck – making your tits strut forward, jumping as he continues to jut up into you.

“Just like that, ye? Fuckin’ stingy bitch-” He grunts in your ear. “Right inside that tight rich twat of yours.” 

He landed another slap to the sore flesh of your rear, making you tighten up even more – clenching so tight he had to sink his teeth into your shoulder to keep from nutting too soon. You smelled sweetly spicy – so expensive it made his eyes roll beneath his lids – spiking his movement even more, rutting against you.

You scream, the silky lace of your underwear gone completely wet in your mouth now, just a soggy ball you chewed between grit teeth – trying to will away the knot winding up so tight in your gut, needing release.

Your efforts bore no fruits – soon, something pulled you like a rubberband and snapped just the same, making you clench tight on the fatness stuffing you full, shaking as the feeling seized you.

“Fuck- look at yah- takin’ my cock like a proper little fuck-toy, hm? Cummin’ like a whore- not so prim and proper now, are yah?”

#yandere toji fushiguro #yandere toji #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere fushiguro #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"Midnight troubles"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

Summary: an awkward moment, night patrol and a shitty girl later....

Contains: swearing, fluff (i guess?) angst, mentions to the giggidy (nothing actually happens), derogatory terms/names used

Word Count: 2108

A/N: i was sleep deprived and cluelesss when writing this so enjoy :)

You've been friends with Luke Castellan since the day you showed up at camp drenched in water and he showed you around. You've been inseparable since then - y/n and Luke. Luke and y/n, you were a package deal, wherever one went the other followed.

On this particular day you had seated yourself down on a sunny patch of grass to sing. Luke had settled himself a few feet away from you pretending not to listen as your lips parted and sound sweeter than any strawberry escaped your mouth.

His eyes shut peacefully as your song washes over him. He's always loved your singing, everyone does, your song can seem to stop time for a few moments. But Luke likes to think he loves it the most - he's your best friend, of course he gets that right.

Once you finish singing you open your eyes and Luke is staring at you with pure amazement and... something else you can't quite place. Whatever it is, it's gone in a blink. "That was beautiful, y/n," he smiles.

"Like you," you tease standing up and reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You do know you don't have to sit with me and listen every time I sing don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. But I want to," Luke says, standing up with you and pulling you into a side hug. "You've got a really beautiful voice y/n."

You brush it off and wrap your arm around his waist walking along with him. "Oh but its not as beautiful as yours," you joke and Luke's laugh vibrates through you sending a jolt of tingles and a wave of repressed feelings.

You watch as Luke laughs and can't help but smile yourself. You and Luke have been deemed the camp's Mom and Dad. If anything was wrong and you didn't want to take it to Mr D or Chiron the campers would go to you two, Apollo and Hermes cabin counsellors. That's when the rumours started. Luke and y/n are dating. Although you've both denied it several times the campers never listened and you were dubbed Mom and Dad.

Even though you denied it, a small- a medium- okay a pretty huge part of you wants it to be true. I mean who wouldn't want Luke Castellan to be their boyfriend? He has offers piling up every day from girls. You're pretty sure you've even seen someone offer him a fucking apple with the words 'will you go out with me' carved into it. Luke said no of course - she was a frigging psycho - but even then he never said yes to any of the offers, the ones that you knew about anyway.

"I got patrol tonight after the campfire," you sigh and break away from Luke to give a younger boy from Aphrodite a hug when he showed you his result from arts and crafts. Not noticing how Luke tenses beside you until the boy runs off to tell his friends you hugged him.

"I'll come with you, there's bound to be some shit heads sneaking off to go hook up," he rolls his eyes looking directly at some Ares camper who you've both caught several times. "And besides, gods know you couldn't handle the dark without me."

You scowl at Luke smacking him. "Haha very funny, a daughter of the sun god is afraid of the dark, it's hilarious." Luke just grins and catches your hand against his chest, holding it there, when you go to hit him again. Your laughter fades and you both just stare at each other for a moment neither of you wanting to break it but also wanting to admit to the other that there was something happening.

Luke clears his throat and drops your hand gently. "Whatever loser, you're the one stuck with me," you tease and kiss his cheek. Walking away before you lose your nerve. Holy shit why'd you do that? you scream inside your head. What the fuck? Why? Why? You couldn't have walked away normally, but noooo you had to kiss his fucking cheek.

You press the palm of your hands into your eyes and accidentally slam into someone. "Shit sorry!" you cry out looking down to see the poor camper you practically ran over.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Percy says looking up at you and then over at Luke who hasn't moved since you walked away. "Did you break him or something?"

"Or something," you mutter, helping Percy up. "Sorry again, Percy." You force a smile onto your face and sigh as you look at Luke.

"Yeaaah, you messed him up damn." Percy drawls. "Like really messed him up. Damn what did you do? Did you like, kick him in the balls or something?"

"Percy!" you shout shutting him up. He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic when he says sorry and then scurries off when Grover calls out to him.

Sighing, you shake your head and grumble to yourself about its going to be hella awkward tonight.

~~~

Something was wrong with Luke's heart. It hadn't stopped beating wildly since y/n had kissed him on the cheek and he was trying to control his erratic pulse when he rises up the steps to your cabin.

He knocks twice on the door and takes a deep breath when you open the door and look up at him. The deep breath is cut short when he notices you're wearing his hoodie. You smile up at him and ask, "you ready to go catch some horny teens?"

He nods and lets you lead the way. "Sure, yep, let's go Sunflower." You both walk in silence for the first two minutes before Luke works up the courage to say, "nice hoodie, there by the way, it matches your flashlight."

You twist around and grin ignoring his dig at your flashlight - it's white with a bunch of sunflowers hand painted on. "Yeah, some super, cool, really annoying guy gave it to me." Luke's eyebrow arches and you roll your eyes. "Fine, I stole it from the guy, cause it's soft and smells nice," you mumble that last part and Luke tilts his head at you in question.

"What was that last part?"

"It's soft?"

"No, the other part?"

You're quiet for a moment before mumbling, "it smells..... nice."

Luke practically stops breathing, but covers it up with a smirk. "You think I smell nice?"

You internally slap yourself. "Yes," you quietly answer. Well you know what? When you thought it was going to be awkward earlier? That's nothing compared to the tension right now.

A loud moan comes from up ahead behind the trees and you sigh tugging the hoodie closer before running up ahead to break up whatever situation is happening.

"Hey!" you yell out to the two campers whose clothes are dishevelled and hair all mussed up. "Get back to your cabins! And when I say cabins I mean your own cabin." The two kids scramble away back to their cabins swearing.

"Fuckers," Luke mutters from behind you. "I swear they always choose the same spot."

You spin around and smile, "they'll be back don't worry, you can bust them next time."

After you both make your rounds, catching three other couples, you end up in a secluded spot near the lake.

"So," you start looking out to the water, smiling softly. "What do you wanna talk about?" You shove the flashlight in the front pocket just soaking in the moonlight - and besides Luke's here, he protects you from the dark.

Luke looks over at you and steps closer wrapping a hand around each of your - well technically his - hoodie's drawstrings. "I don't really know..." he trails off and then looks down at you, your eyes shining in the moonlight. And then something must've possessed him because he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

You look up at him in surprise. "What was that for?" You ask, noticing how Luke's eyes shine with affection.

"Just paying you back for earlier."

You both freeze then - not tensing up but just not moving. Staying in the small bubble that you two have created for yourselves. The comfort of the silence that surrounds you both covers you like a blanket.

Your faces inch closer, your breaths mingling as your eyes meet and you swear you can hear your heartbeat. Can Luke hear how loud your heart is beating? Like seriously? It's so loud.

Everything seems perfect before a loud laugh erupts in the distance. You sigh and pull away from him and start walking over to where the noise came from. Were you going to kiss just then? Holy shit. Was that actually happening?

Luke's presence at your side sends you into a tailspin. Does he like you? Or was he only doing that out of pity. You reach into the hoodie to pull out your flashlight but a hand wraps around your own and you skid to a stop, looking down at Luke's hand intertwined with yours.

Luke doesn't stop though, he just keeps walking, hopefully not noticing how red your cheeks are right now.

You both round the path and find a girl sitting on a fallen log hidden in the trees, she's wrapped in nothing but a blanket she must've brought from her cabin. When the girl sees you - well more like see's Luke - her eyes brighten up.

"Oh Luke! You're finally here! I was waiting for you." A frown instantly replaces the soft smile you have on your face.

"What?" Your voice is quiet and confused.

The girl shoots you a smug look. "What? Did you actually think Luke wanted to spend time with you tonight?" She smirks. "He was only killing time to spend it with me."

What?

You know what the girl is saying is wrong but when you look at Luke you almost start crying. He's quiet at your side staring harshly at the girl. He's not denying it. He's not denying it!

"Lukey and I have plans now bitch-girl, leave." Your teeth clench so tightly you're afraid you're gonna break your jaw. Why isn't Luke SAYING ANYTHING??

You stare frigidly at the girl. "Look, I wanna say Gina..?" she asks purposely misnaming you.

"It's y/n."

"Right that's what I said," she smirks. "Now unless you want to watch me and Luke roll around on the ground here I suggest you leave."

You stay put fighting your ground. Why is Luke not saying anything??

"Ooh we've got a bit of a slut on our hands do we? Damn Gina, I didn't know you were into kinky shit."

"I don't-"

She cuts you off. "It's fine I don't mind you watching like the whore you are."

WHY ISN'T LUKE SAYING ANYTHING?

The girl turns her eyes on Luke again. "I'm waiting for you Luke. Tell her to piss off. Or better yet, tell her that we've been sleeping together."

Luke stays quiet, his eyes locked on the girl.

What. The. Fuck?

The girl opens her mouth to start again but you turn around before she can say anything else.

"Y'know what? I'll leave you two to it," you spit, forcing the tears that spring to your eyes to stop.

"Wait y/n!" Luke calls out suddenly, but you've already launched into a sprint not caring what he has to say now. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it. He didn't deny it.

Tears blur your eyes and you struggle to pull out your flashlight, tripping over a tree root and stumbling to the ground. You face plant onto the ground and even though you're wearing long pants you can feel your skin being torn.

It's dark and cold

You have scratches along your face and arms - where the hoodie pushed up - everything burns your skin, your face, your eyes, your heart.

He didn't deny it.

You pat around looking for your flashlight. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be lost, no! Luke painted it for you, when you first came to camp and when he found out you were afraid of the dark.

Luke made that. Your Luke made tha-

Your face crumples.

Luke.

He didn't deny it. He didn't say anything. He didn't stop her.

Your heart heavy as you do so, you stand up, fighting the new wave of tears that threaten to overcome you.

A chill hits you and you pull the dirty hoodie closer. It still smells like Luke.

And...

And its dark...

Shit.

Anger pools deep in your gut. She called you a slut and a whore.

That bitch better watch it.....

©strawberries-and-summer-days

a/n: lemme know if you want a part two!!

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfic #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

[marybeatriceofmodena]

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

#YOU'RE WELCOME ANON #anon asks #Andrew Lloyd Webber #Patti LuPone #evita #sunset boulevard #phantom of the opera #love never dies

[thecameronchronicles]

A Hole in One

A Hole in One

TW: Smut, as always. Slight potential exhibitionism. Daddy kink. Derogatory language. Rough sex.

Summary: Bored as you are dragged to one of Rafe's golf days, you decide to make things a bit more interesting...

Kook girlfriend x kook prince

"Baby, why are you pouting?" Rafe sighed, half amused as he usually preferred your lips puckered for him. But in this instance, with your arms crossed over your full breasts concealed beneath your tight crop, his interest came in the way your body tightened. He always made it obvious how he craved to devour you, even more so when you had an attitude against him. This was because he knew how easily your mood would change just by his touch alone and he basked in the power behind it.

"We were supposed to go shopping..." You detested everything about the consolation activity. It was too quiet, too hot, and you were always berated for asking questions whenever you did try to act as if you cared to please your boyfriend.

"Just one hour...and then after that, I'll buy you something real pretty..." He leaned across the console of the car separating you. When you first started dating, these small moments would force you to aquiesce as you didn't want to upset him. But now, you learned that rivaling him only enticed him more. So by the response of only your eyes pulling backwards into a roll, you pushed the door open and made your way onto the exterior of the golf course.

Sitting in the golf cart for the majority of the first half, fanning yourself, you realized how futile this was. Of course they would pick the hottest day of the summer to hit balls into holes-you just couldn't understsnd it. There were a million other things you'd rather do. A root canal. The DMV. But the most enticing thing had been Rafe, who was mouthwatering in his backwards cap, tight shorts, and gray top buttoned at the top with the exception of those exposing hints of his toned chest to you. But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of you eye fucking him across the green.

Carrying your soles to the small cart used for servicing members of the club, you ordered a water and an ice cream cone before returing to your seat. Peeling the package and licking your lips in anticipation to the vanilla sweet, you nearly seduced the cone, even relasing an unintentional moan, until your eyes found all three boys now looking up at you. But where Topper and Kelce were somewhere between aroused and humored, Rafe was pissed.

Rafe was the type of boyfriend who wanted to parade you around at every party, his hands never leaving your body for too long. But when it came to moans he believed only he deserved to know the sound of or even the sight of your skin he knew had been touched solely by him, he wanted all of that for himself. Which was why when you pulled your thumb to your bottom lip to withdraw the rebellious ice cream from staining your chin in its sticky makeup, an epiphany entertained your boredom.

You offered a smile so the boys would return to their game, allowing a moment to pass, before optioning for a way to gain your boyfriend's attention. Usually, you never had to fight for it, but when it came to golf, Rate was precise. You usually didn't mind because you got to treasure him prior to his games, the cute ensembles crumpled between your fingers as he gave insights to how your patience would be rewarded just before he left you to fantasize of the ways you would return your fervor for his return. But now, having been lured here under false pretenses, well over the hour agreed upon, you wanted to ensure he knew his mistake. After all, how did he expect you to entertain yourself with nothing more than a golfcart and the heat?

Pulling your crop top down just enough, you used the condensation of the water bottle to cool your temperate skin. Feigning closing your eyes, you allowed your head to rest in the expected padding of the chair behind you before notcing the three pairs of eyes on you again.

"Top!" Rafe ordered through clenched teeth as you ked the water between your thighs. From the outside glance, it seemed as though you were simply cooling yourself off. But to Rafe, he knew you too well to know this was anything but an instigation.

With the shock of ice cold water to your skin, the sudden heat of his grip sent you stumbling off of the cart and onto his feet by the main dependency of his hold.

"Are you not going to be happy until I fuck you in front of them?" His jaw tense but his eyes desperate for your rebellion, you only chuckled.

"You wouldn't dare leave a game-".

"Fuck the game-" He retorted, moving closer to you as you took this as a chance to fondle the buttons keeping his loose shirt away from the muscles contracting beneath. You had left claw marks every interaction upon the skin concealed beneath this chosen button up, and yet craved it each time as if it had been the first sight.

"Wouldn't you rather fuck me?" You questioned, eyeing him beneath your long lashes, batting them just as you would if in preparation of a blow job, the way you knew he loved to be adorned.

"Will that make you behave?" He asked through a continued clench of his teeth, although reveling in the games you two played.

"Probaably not...But you could try..." His eyes sharpened into an amused narrow as he cocked his jaw.

"So I make you cum and you you'll let me make par?" The illumination behind your eyes electrified his own steely gaze as you felt his forefinger bend beneath your chin to draw your attention exclusively to him.

Another idea suddenly crossed your mind, this one far more alluring then making yourself cold against the art of seduction.

"You think too highly of your skills..." You slipped from before him, traveling the remaining meters to his friends while hearing him mutter 'brat' in the final moments you remained in earshot.

"Can I try?" You asked, hands pulled in unison behind your back and chest pushed forward to achieve their undivided attention as Rafe remained at the golf cart, hat removed in his hands and folding its bill as if purposely trying to reshape it.

"Just one swing?" You pleaded, your tone rising in the particular way he knew well just at the cusp of your orgasm. The way your usual boisterous confidence fell to dependency in that whimper of a release, one you knew effected him well, was now spoken to someone who was not him.

"Here..." Topper offered, any excuse to make the moment end as quickly as possible having pushed him to volunteer.

The cold metal of the club was heavy between your fingers as you purposely fumbled your stance as you knew the only thing to drive Rafe into annoyance beyond repair would be the delay of how you acted brainless. This usually got you a reward when you were behind closed doors as if the only brain cells you had existed to pleasure him. But this was something you knew you would pay for later. The skin of your nearly exposed ass twitching in a premature ache of what was to come.

"You want to follow through on your swing. Carry your hips towards the hole-the flag-" He quickly fumbled as you giggled, Rafe now standing beside Kelce, who was enjoying the rivalry to who usually remained from getting such a rise out if Rafe. You knew him well to know if you were anyone else, you'd be abandoned or ridiculed. But this was how you operated. Games and tension all for reward and benefit coming imminently. You acted the brat and he corrected you in the only way he knew how-cuming.

"Can you show me?" You batted your lashes to Topper, who quickly looked to Rafe for permission. When only finding a hard line and white knuckles wrapped around his club, he nervously agreed as lining you up to swing.

"Line up..." You spoke the words carefully, almost an echo of Topper's instruction, using this to act innocent to how you nearly ground against his inseam.

"Turn your hips..." Topper guided you through this false swing as you prepared to hit the ball for real. Focusing with your bottom lip between your teeth in captivation, you turned to find Rafe staring but no longer on edge in the understanding you were almost finished with your display.

How wrong he was.

Pulling apart from Topper, you laid your new ball to the green, bending down in such a way that made everyone in view question if you were wearing a thong or nothing at all-the latter made knowledgeable of your boyfriend. Before you could prepare to swing, your arm was taken by enough force to later leave marks, as you were pulled out of view.

"You done?" His voice, dark and drawn in the way he always allowed his cadence to portray itself in the light southern drawl behind his firm words, you only smirked with pride.

"It got your attention didn't it?" His jaw cocked, his body pining you to the side of the club, out of eyesight, but not earshot of those passing by midday. But your focus wasn't on the usual elder crowd that used the fields this time of day. Your focus was on Rafe's desire for you, hard against your abdomen.

"You want my attention?" His fingers ran through your hair, softly, only to repeat this course once more to pull it backwards.

"You have it." Your grin widened as your lips became parted by his own hungry kiss. Your eager hands rose to the edges of his shirt, broadcasting your desperation to him in the gentle tug to know his touch.

"Please Rafe..." You pleaded, undeserving, yet quelled by his fingers dipping between your thighs left ajar by his knee between your parted legs.

"Such a desperate little brat, aren't you?"

"Please..." You repeated, the feeling of his large hand cupping your greedy cunt, leaving him to drawl out a scoff.

"You think you deserve it?"

"I NEED it-"

"And I needed YOU to let me finish my game...and instead you distract my friends and give them boners, acting like you haven't been fucked well a day in your life, well aware I would have taken good care of you if you were just patient..."

"Rafe..." You began to sense any portion of sweetness he usually held for you beneath his bravado to melt away beneath his hostility as he turned you to the wall, skirt lifted before it could join to your skin once again.

"You want to act like a whore for them? You're gonna be treated like one by ME!" He growled, harsh grip in your hair as a sting centered on your bare ass cheek. The wince that left your lips was enough to draw that grip in your hair now to your lips.

"You made enough of those sounds for them. Nobody else gets to hear you moan. You make one more fucking sound and you won't get to cum for a week-" Although seven days seemed tolerable, the way Rafe would tease you in that time, bringing you to that edge left you manic and in desperation of a release that would make two minutes seem like an eternity. For this, you fought to remain silent.

"Letting Topper touch you like you aren't still filled with me from this morning-" He scoffed. "You're gonna go back to them, ME dripping down your thighs so they know who makes YOU come." His hand on the back of your neck, pulling you to look at him.

"But not today." Your mouth came open in objection before remembering his promise to edge you. The ideas swirling in your mind of his tongue, his fingers, his cock, all bringing you to the fringes of a release only to refrain from following through, was enough to fight this moan. But it took everything you had as you felt him unbuckle himself behind you.

"You're gonna take my cock like a good girl, right?" You nodded viciously, aching for the familiarity of his impressive girth that always left you satisfied in his efforts.

"Raw." This single word made your eyes roll as he was usually careful with contraception, but aware you took your own methods of prevention, he allowed this to act for where he was temporarily negligent. All for the feeling of his naked cock making you his once more.

The sudden burial of his thick shaft had you biting your lip until drawing blood, the copper taste ignored by the way he extended into your abdomen.

"Fuck-" He grunted.

"Always so wet. So tight..." He muttered in thrusts, brazen to take you this way in broad daylight, skirt bunched at one grip at your hip, as the other remained on the back of your neck until resting at your hip in a hungry indent. You craved to silence the pulsing of your clit, eventually willing to risk his wrath for just a moment of pleasure as his moans acted as an aphrodisiac you couldn't silence.

"No!" He grunted. "You don't get to touch yourself, you little slut...You'll wait until I do...IF I let you." Bringing your silent wince into your expression, he lowered you further before him, basking in the effect of how he had you at his mercy.

"You like being fucked in public, yeah?"

You nodded.

"You like my cock this deep inside your tight little cunt? MY CUNT?"

Only allowed to nod, you did so rapidly, almost violently, his hand slipping from your mouth and hollowing out your cheeks via his grip, until you faced him.

"Please..." You couldn't take the stretch, the moans, the pressure-you risked his threat if it meant gaining some form of pity from him. Even for a moment.

"I'm sorry! Please!" Tears developed in your eyes as he suddenly stilled. You worried he would abandon you completely, the week of forced abstinence in effect to this. But instead, he turned you to face him.

"Maybe I should give you a chance to make it up to me..."

You nodded, eagerly, willing to do whatever was necessary as long as you could still touch him somehow.

"Yes, Rafe-" You validated your conviction as his grin widened.

"That's not what you call me when you're in trouble...You know better..." He warned as you swallowed hard in anticipation.

"I'm sorry...daddy....please."

"Please what? How do you want to make it up to 'daddy'?" He smiled wildly, the edges of his mouth nearly reaching his ears and raising to his eyes in illumination.

"I want to make you come daddy! Let me make you cum!"

"You know how to, doll..." He motioned to his erect mmeber, kissed by the sunlight of this balmy day. Before he could return his eyes to you, you were on your knees, hands already around his shaft. You knew his anatomy well, you knew how he loved to be stroked and the most sensitive patches of eroticism that pulled his eyes into a roll of pleasure. But you didn't want to wait for the usual foreplay of long stripes along his cock. You took him with force, pushing well beyond your reflex as tears formed in your eyes.

"Good girl-fuck!" He clenched his teeth and bucked his hips in response. When feeling your tears on his lower stomach, he chuckled, staining his care with how he loved seeing you choke on him.

"Look at my good girl, on her knees for me in public...making daddy feel so fucking good!" He bellowed, eyes screwing shut as you twisted his base, pumping him beyond your reflex, and sucking his excess to his swelling tip.

"Just like that , baby! Shit!" He cursed, his hand now taking control of your hair, leaving you breathless to your offerings, before finally allowing you a breath as he pulled you trembling in his arms just before he would have sent his ribbons of cum down your throat.

"You've been so good for me...Do you think you've learned your lesson?"

You nodded, desperation and the ache of his cock still spamming your throat having silenced you, leaving you speechless but eager with the continued bobbing of your head.

"My baby's gotta use big words to deserve this cum-"

"I've l-learned my ll-lesson-" You managed as he chuckled.

"Good girl." His praise sent you moaning before he lifted you against the wall, this time guiding himself inside of you. You didn't think you had ever been more wet for him, this proven in the way he was effortlessly thrusting into you, even as you tightened arousmnd him with each retrieval of his cock. He was merciless as always, but somehow more depraved on the usual firm holds, now purely selfish.

"Oh God!" You groaned to his sloppy thrusts, informing you of his coming release.

"So fucking good for me baby. Take care of daddy and I'll take care of my baby-" Your arm came around his shoulders, pulling yourself even higher from ground level, as he would use this to take himself deeper inside of you. The silence of his vugarities informed you of his precipice, followed by the blood drawn by his scratch, and your name leaving his lips between curses and pet names.

"Shit, babygirl..." He breathed, pulling you to your feet as they struggled to straighten.

"As promised..." He moved to his own knees , bunching your skirt upwards once again to your bald cunt, sopping in the mix of his cum and your own desire. Grinning in approval to how aroused he made you, he set his fingers inside of you, sending your head backwards.

"You scream, I stop." You agreed with a nod as you bit your bottom lip once finding him to focus on your clit. His teeth tormented it's swollen inflammation as you twisted your fingers in his shirt. Smirking into your thigh, he pulled your leg over his shoulder for proper angle, suddenly devouring you in a series of nibbles and inhales before bringing you to that cusp he knew well. But he altered his direct devotion, fingers slowing to draw out your orgasm.

"You EVER pull shit like that again, and you'll only cum when I let you...which won't be often, baby..."

"Rafe-"

"Don't worry.. I'll still cum.." He grinned. "You’ll still get my cock...But only I'll get to cum..." His fingers to your clit were impossibly swift, perfectly pressured, his breath hot against your ear purring in endorsement.

"But right now...because you're such a good girl for me...because you learned your lesson..." He grinned maniacly. "You're gonna squirt for me-"

"Rafe, please. Not here-" The idea of you staining the sidewalk or his clothes, evidence of your punishment returning back to Topper and Kelce, stained your cheeks red.

"You are so tight baby, you need this. " Your whimpers drove him further, quicker, deeper. His pointer finger, contrasted cold to your fiery skin with his signature ring, slipped inside of you for pressure, followed by his middle finger, and thumb rounding your clit into those flicks and circles.

"And once you do, you're gonna let me finish my game, dripping with both of us, thinking about how you'll behave next time..."

"Yes!" You breathed.

"Rafe! I'm-"

"That's it baby...let go...let me feel-" You interrupted him with the release he pulled, dampening his shoes with what he pulled from you. Your mouth pulled into a wide oval, the rush of pleasure intensified by the way he twisted your clit to leave you overstimulated and with the reminder of the control he had over you-as if you could ever forget.

"Now...you satisfied?" He teased, allowing you to pull your dress to cover yourself, slightly embarrassed to what you had allowed and what you still wanted.

"Hole in one?" He questioned as you rolled your eyes to his cheesy pun before being returned to Topper and Kelce, who you could no longer look in the eyes as you felt Rafe's promise descend between your thighs, coming into view if you were to part them. As he returned to his game, you sat silently in the golf cart, imagining what he would buy you after this game was over and already planning how you would rebel against him next time...

#rafe cameron #outerbanks #outer banks #rafecameron #obx #obx fanfiction #drew starkey #netflix #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #kook #golf

[katyspersonal]

Were Marika and Radagon always the same being from the beginning or they were separate people who got fused later on?

Oh boy, I've almost missed this ask in the tidal wave of Sephi spam from THOSE TWO LITTLE PRICKS!!!!!!, but yes thank you for the question! My theory on the matter is:

This for me ties into a couple of things: 1) the idea that when something bad happens with a (demi)god, they are likely to develop an alter as defence mechanism that I mostly base on the theory that Trina and their purple 'sleep' flame happened as response to Miquella being scorched by Frenzy (more here: ( x )) and 2) theme of 'astral projections' that have transcendental knowledge compared with the 'rest of the person' which is more plain!

Recently I've also discussed theme of "if you want to defeat the thing, become the thing" like with dragons, but I decided to discard the idea that Marika willingly inflicted curse of the giants onto herself! But existence of Radagon is exactly what I think happened with Marika - a curse of the giants!

I think that "they say Marika has slain the Fell God" is taken at face value here, they 'say' it because it happened very long time ago and there are almost no witnesses left rather than a rumour! Sure, I still "await for the return of my Lord" (for the one who will precisely re-translate Japanese script), but I am happy with this for now! Yet, 'their flames will never die' refers to Marika having taken up that curse in the moment she killed the Fell God! This is why she was able to pass the curse mark onto the last Fire Giant that survived: because now the curse was her, taken from the Fell God by slaying him.

But, although she was able to get rid of the flame by giving it to the Fire Giant, the impact already left its side-effect on her very being! I still need DLC to confirm or deny whether Trina exists for 'unhappy reason' as I can't tell whether more info on them was cut due to time limitations or rewriting, I am just using it as an extra backup for now! Regardless, it is safe to say that since Fire Giants are all male and Marika was a female, it caused the conflict and so Radagon turned in to exist as male. So yeah kill gods carefully of you'll get cursed with dysphoria idk I am bad at philosophical conclusions

^ I also think that the curse left its mark on Marika genetically, and her children would show traces of it from time to time! Radahn is the biggest evidence of it in my eyes! He started to learn gravitational magic so he could still ride Leonard, which means that he was growing massive even before learning it! Other demigods have no problem staying very human-sized so I think his massive size is not an effect of his massive power, but traces of Giants' 'genes' showing!

I am also considering the ideas that 1) Morgott might have had a fire of his own as result of it, that he sealed into blade, since unlike with Mohg his fire doesn't link to interacting with Formless Mother 2) Rykard might have had natural affinity towards fires as side-effect of such 'genes', that only made his research of fire sorcery easier, and it simply was coincidental that fire reflects heresy

3) Maybe the third eye imagery that is only so far seen in Godwyn's Prince of Death form and Trina's side of Miquella is the secret less obvious effect, that only manifests after something bad happens to them? Since the cyclopic eye is the mark of the Fell God! Again, I need information on Trina first, but so far this works! So yeah. 'Evil eye'.

(Screenshot of Godwyn's model from Zullie's video: ( x ))

I also take the script occasionally from this ( x ) document, but yeah. In Japanese, it is a bit more blatant that he is her other self literally, not metaphorically! She also uses 'omae', a pretty derogatory way to refer to someone. She looks down on this side of herself, which is interesting, but also why? And why Radagon disagreed with her idea to scatter the Elden Ring and let the history sort itself?

This is what made me think of how the separation aspect of them played out! I believe that they are able to exist within the same body, as we can clearly see through the cutscene, but also to split. The thing is? There are precedents of it in the game as well! Sellen and Dung Eater both are under the situation where their real bodies, and real selves are in imprisonment and are suffering without being aware of their astral projections. Their astral projections, however? They are quite aware of where their bodies are and what is going on, but can think independently. The 'body' and the 'mind' are able to exist in separation in The Lands Between. Let's also not forget the case of powerful illusions like the ones of Rennala and Mohg, who are basically the auto-receivers that were set to kick your ass lol x) It is also my idea on why it is named The Lands Between to begin with: because this is where physical and mental blend together, to the point both are equally tangible and perceivable!

Basically? When Marika and Radagon are split, it is very much like this. He would be her 'physical body', living and thinking on his own, not aware of Marika's opinions and plans, whereas Marika would be same as those astral projections that told Tarnished 'oh by the way my actual body is imprisoned in this or that location'. Knowing more and planning more, being aware of what the 'body' thinks and experiences without the reverse being true, however, being limited until the 'body' is returned to the owner. So that's why Radagon would not think and feel exactly the same as Marika: not only he was able to live his own life, but also he understands less than the "transcendental" part which makes astral projections. Marika maybe had the plan to scatter the Ring and let it all sort itself out, so the conflict would let only someone capable of levelling with her lost Godwyn to raise at the top and come and replace her. She generally thinks very far ahead, as the 'higher self' that she is, which Radagon can't do and he just studies and understands the things as they are.

So yeah.. In the conclusion, I think it was the curse of the Giants but specifically the side-effect of slaying the Fell God, yet she sealed the curse she inherited from the act in the last survivor too late and her 'genes' already got traces of it! Radagon is valid but by all laws that strangely split people in the Lands Between he is her "lesser" half that thinks on more grounded plane. We could, again, see from Sellen and Dung Eater that 'body' and 'astral projection' are able to fuse back into one entity, yet Radagon and Marika are still in the conflict?

I like to think it came from Marika herself despising this more "human" side of herself.. Sure, she is not alien to human flaws herself, as someone that set many unfair laws in motion just because of her fears and set the world into war from her grief, but you can't just SAY that hahah; She wants to be perfect, invulnerable, all-powerful, and Radagon is just "not that", not yet. I am pretty sure a big part of it is Marika's very pragmatic view on relationship, whereas Radagon *gasp* had the nerve to truly love Rennala! She only can truly become one with him when his flaws and vulnerabilities are eradicated and he is the same cold, calculating, clever, machiavellian entity as herself, literally just her but male. And, well... this hasn't been this way so far, so in turn, the two are at the conflict. He thinks of the other people and the world, and doesn't believe it is right to betray the Greater Will and the mortals born under it like that, when she decides to just let the world suffer and burn. Ironically, her "lowly" half had more sympathy and reason than her "dignified" half, after all.

This is all very interesting to think about, but so far a lot of this lingers on the conclusions I still need to confirm or deny via DLC! Anyways it was interesting to think about and put together!

#elden ring #marika the eternal #radagon of the golden order #elden ring theory #elden ring headcanons #elden ring reference #ask replies

[ohbo-ohno]

I've sent asks off anon before but I want to be included so I'm claiming 🐰 - ghoap with a kitty reader is cute and I love and support our local cat girls and dog boys but as the bunny enthusiast (gaz bunny person) I gotta say, conqueror ghost with rabbit coded reader, she's always been a flirtatious tease to Johnny, *knowing* he couldn't have what he so desperately wanted from her, but with a high drive for what she desires, she just couldn't help herself from getting pleasure from his desperation and attempts to hide his own desire, and ghost sees this and turns this on its head. "You want to tease our dog, you can take every bit of what he's got to give." Let's soap fuck reader into overstimulation, let's soap fuck them until they pass out, their own drive being miniscule compared to a wound up pent up soap off his leash for a couple of hours. Ghost of course makes Johnny clean up his mess with his mouth, and then Ghost takes his turn with their pretty bunny, because obviously, rabbits fuck like well... Rabbits. They can handle however many rounds ghost has in him.

catgirls and dogboys... what about the doggirls, huh? we deserve representation too

i def see conqueror ghost making johnny his pup (/affectionate) but idk if reader is really a kitten or more of just a general pet (/derogatory) but i loooove your stuff about her being a tease

she's fighting her parents sooo hard to be allowed to marry johnny but she knows it's fruitless so she's always trying to cross lines with him, always trying to get him to reciprocate but he doesn't :( he took a vow to protect her and remain celibate (and her parents would literally cut his head off if they caught him touching her in any sort of inappropriate way) so he never ever allows himself or her even close to those lines

but ghost... not only does he allow it, he forces it. and now johnny and princess are reversed - she feels like she can't touch him (cause of her pride), he wants to touch her more than anything in the world.

when johnny's been a good boy (and i mean a good boy, just the bestest in the world) he gets to use princess as long as he wants, even when she passes out. ghost cradles her head in his lap, she finally blinks her eyes open minutes (hours?) later and feels johnny still fucking her, see ghost just smiling down at her :(

maybe when johnny only gets to fuck her once or twice ghost pulls him off by the leash :( snarling and growling pup, clawing his way closer to her cunt because he's soooo desperate for her, can't even think enough to listen to his master :/

ghost having johnny clean princess out so ghost has someone clean to fuck ohhhh im ghlsl;fklsdl;f

#🐰 anon #asks and answers #conqueror ghost au

[sleeby-anon]

Hello, have you missed me?

I’m writing a little Drabble in honor of Vienna’s daily thingamabob’s this is written on my phone, I’ve worked 2 six hour shifts and it’s 1 am. So if this is shit please lie to me. A little simpbur for you all.

Warnings: simpbur is a creep, derogation, humiliation, doming reader, submitting simpbur, little pervish behavior but it’s not gonna be too long.

You can almost feel his brown-eyed stare from across the room. It’s almost undressing you, pinning you under his gaze, like a butterfly with its wings pinned.

You can’t see him though. It’s not like you expected to see him—he’s a short thing but somehow it’s like he can always find you, pinning you, undressing you staring are your naked wing—you feel a hand cautiously slipping around your waist.

You turn and find his brown eyed gaze drinking you in.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” His voice is incredibly shy for someone being so bold as to wrap a hand around your waist.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” You turn and face him, the hand around your waist now holding your lower back close. It was dirty.

“I—got invited.” His face was blooming several shades of red as he tried to sound a little more confident. It was incredibly transparent.

It felt cruel to play with him like this—you knew he liked you, it was so obvious it was almost pathetic, but you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed playing with your food. Especially when he made it so easy.

“Invited?” You asked leaning in close, your noses barely touching. “We both know damn well you weren’t invited here Wilbur.” You kept your challenging stare intact with his, forcing him to watch you instead of leaning in and closing the gap.

“Um—“

“In fact—the only way you could have known about it—“ you started, leaning close to his ear and whispering, “—is if you had been looking through my texts you pathetic little perv.” You pulled away and immediately felt his erection pressing against your leg. You looked at him with a dark and satisfied grin.

The poor boy was even more flushed, and he couldn’t seem to make a decision about what he wanted to do. Let you go, or hold you closer.

Maybe if you tried you might be able to get him to fuck you.

You pressed your thigh closer to his hard-on and his breath hitched.

“Come on then, don’t you want me? Don’t you need me?”

“I do—god I—“His eyes widened, the realization clear on his face-and that made him turn redder.

You knew the derogatory words were a massive turn on for him—he had sent you multiple voice audio through discord—only to have them almost immediately deleted—whimpering and moaning about he was misbehaving, being such a fucking pervert, he wanted you—needed you, and by god was it fascinating that the guy you had only talked to irl a handful of times was this into you.

He trembled a little, fear, humiliation, excitement—and you figured you better throw him a bone. You ran your hands up his arms, feather-light finger touches before finding their place in his hair, and tugging lightly. You leaned back into his ear.

“C’mon don’t you want me? I think you’d look really pretty underneath me as I ride you, or would you want to fuck me instead? Having me all blissed out under you?” Your dirty words had his hand on your lower back gripping you a little tighter.

“If I’d let you that is—or maybe you’d want me to suck you off? Give you a handjob? Or ride my thighs? I’m giving you options here Wilbur, pick something.”

“—Do I only get one?” He finally uttered, his breathing hitched, his hard-on nearly digging into your thigh. You grinned, your work completed.

“You get one.” You began, slowly guiding him to a more secluded area. “To start with.”.

#wilbur soot x reader #sleeby anon #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #suggestive

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Ive made through chapters 4-7 today and good god, I feel like i had basically nothing to say about acotar as I was reading it but with this book theres so much to talk about for some reason, its wild. Truly, I did not realize how much I liked Feyre in the first book until I was under threat of losing her

Now, I will say that Feyre seems in-character so far, shes still the same woman but traumatized, but I am worried for her. Tamlin is a whole different story though, SJM might as well shoot him dead right in front of me for how thoroughly hes being character assassinated. Like, if Tamlin actually cares about Feyre as a person and not just in a douchy, possessive alphahole way, which he should because Tamlin was not that kind of guy previously, then he would force Feyre to train so she can defend herself if necessary, not forbid her from it. Even if he didnt want her to use her magical powers, surely he would make her practice with her knife or with a sword or even with her bow just to be safe, because hes not always gonna be there

I think his actions do continue to make sense if you look at them from his perspective, but I also maintain that he's doing a really bad job at responding to Feyre. But also, its so laughably obvious what sjm is doing by having Tamlin say shit like "you were stolen from me", shes trying to paint him as some objectifying asshole. Even Lucien calling her "Tamlin's bride" feels like its part of all this, and I know Ianthe is gonna turn out to be a traitor and a rapist at some point, so it really comes across as an attempt to villify the entire spring court for its association with Tamlin

Speaking of Lucien, I genuinely think part of the reason Feylin is doing so badly in this book is that his dynamic with Tamlin is completely different now. For some reason hes all like "oh, my High Lord" instead of "my good friend Tamlin", he suddenly cant say a word against him when he was talking to shit to him just a few months ago in-uinverse. Like, if their dynamic was the same as it was in acotar, Lucien wouldve probably been like "hey man, I know youre stressed and I get it, I know what its like to watch the love of my life get brutally murdered I dont know what its like to have her magically ressurected again but thats neither here nor there, but Feyre is clearly not happy being inside all day and you need a break, go take her out on a date in the woods, I'll stay here and take care of everything, dont even worry about it" or gotten him to comprise with Feyre or chill tf out or SOMETHING but because theres suddenly this rigid hierarchy in the spring court in order to make the night court look better

Speaking of the night court, Ive heard some stuff about it feeling very orientalist but it still managed to completely blindsight me with its badness. Feyre got fucking harem pants to wear, really? And a short-sleeved croptop, and no fucking shoes, probably because Rhys didnt want Feyre throwing shoes at him again. That was the one moment in this book that brought me genuine joy btw, I would read a thousand fanfics about her just throwing shit at him

Anyway, speaking of my guy (derogatory) Rhysand Nolastname, hes so incredibly annoying I dont even have any coherent thoughts about him right now, like, if I were to write down what I think of him I would just write "he fuckinh pisses me off" over and over again. Im actually a really big fan of edgy shadow bois, but only if theyre like, sad and angry and closed off, if theyre like Rhysand and theyre all flirty and teasing and cocky and shit, theyre just annoying and nothing else. And the romance has barely even started yet, I cant imagine how much worse the flirting is gonna get later. Not to mention all these desperate and obvious attempts by sjm to make him sympathetic and morally good now, its honestly pretty pathetic

Now Im gonna be real with you, I didnt get a lot of sleep yesterday and I can feel myself and the things Im writing getting less and less coherent, so Im just gonna hit you with the very last of my thoughts bullet point style

The fact that Amarantha apparently didnt actually go rogue and it was all part of Hybern's plan feels misogynistic ngl

Ianthe's entire character already feels so misogynistic and slutshame-y and she hasnt even assaulted anyone yet

Something about Mor bothers me, I cant quite put my finger on it but its there. I think I do like her for annoying Rhys though

God, Im gonna have so much to say about the Illyrians but for now, its awfully bold of Rhysand to be like "they wasted no time throwing themselves before her feet" when THATS WHAT HE DID

Thats it for now

#anti sjm #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #flames and darkness liveblog

[olderthannetfic]

Speaking of fetishization and all that jazz, recently the term fujoshi came up in real life for me and a friend asked me what it meant. For transparency I’m only 25, didn’t really fall into fandom until covid. Essentially I said it was a japanese term sometimes used in fandom so it depends who you ask. It could be 

Rotten women: this is the most technical translation and I’m pretty sure the actual word is a pun about rotten eggs or something. It means rotten as in spoiled, as in “spoiled for marriage” 

A derogatory term for women who are ruined for marriage because they like gay porn 

Women who likes gays porn 

Women who like BL/boy love. The male equivalent is fudanshi. BL is gay mlm romance genre for manga. GL is for girl love, but I think GL is less popular of a genre/not really a thing. I’m pretty sure the porn equivalent is yaoi for gay porn and yuri for lesbian porn(still talking about manga/anime) but I could be wrong. BL and yaoi might mean the same thing I’m not sure. The important part here is fujoshi is for women who like BL and fudanshi is for men who like BL. This is the most correct term unless someone is trying to use it as an insult. I’m pretty sure this is what comes up when you google it. 

Straight women who fetishizes gay men

Transphobic term for a trans man that actually just a “straight women who fetishes gay men” 

(me still talking to my friend) 

Now if you’re wondering why all this exists we need to go back to the early 2000s and I’m pretty sure 4chan. If I’m right, fujoshi already meant rotten women and was used to describe a woman who was ruined for marriage, but around this time it started being used specifically against women for liking gay porn/ BL manga. An intersection of misogyny and homophobia where women aren’t just ruined by jacking off, but even more ruined if they jack off to gay porn. Oh no the horror! How will women ever marry straight men if she masturbated to gay men? She is now ruined for straight men. I find this whole thing absurd, but honestly I forget that people “aren’t supposed to even masturbate” before marriage. Got to keep yourself completely pure I guess. Like I understand the concept of not having sex before marriage(even if I really don’t agree) because I grew up hearing that but the idea that you shouldn’t even masturbate or you’ll be ruined is so stupid to me it makes my brain short circuit. And of course it's misogynistic as all hell. At this time it's a Japanese term used in Japan against Japanese women and it's later reclaimed by Japanese women. Reclaimed as in “wait you guys can have porn and be horny but we can’t!? Well fuck you then I am rotten woman and you can go fuck yourself” At least thats what I think they mean when they say its a “reclaimed word” All I know is that its a misogynist term used against japanese women then reclaimed by said women. This is when “it just means women who like BL definition starts” 

Short time later it slowly but surely gets used in western fandom by people(mostly women) who ship mlm and by women who like BL and in the latter case it literally means that. This is when “it means a woman who fetishes gay men '' crops up Now I wasn't around at this time and there's a lot of mud throwing and shit when people talk about early tumblr and shipping culture. From what I can tell lots of time it was just used as an insult against people who shipped gay stuff, but there were women who would act gross towards gay men. My opinion is that is kinda like lesbian porn. I don’t give shit if someone like lesbian porn. I give a shit if someone is gross to me personally, like a guy wanting to watch me giss my friend, but its non of my business what kinda porn someone likes. What a weird thing to give a fuck about. And shipping isn’t even always porn! Lots of times its just porn, but lots of times its just about the most interesting relationship on screen which normally isn’t the romantic one. I have a whole theory that the most popular ships being between friendships not romantic leads is because romantic story lines aren’t great. Take zuko and katara vs aang and katara. Zuko and katara have a whole arc where they learn to trust each other and we see their relationship grow and change, but with aang and katara we mostly only watch them crushing on each other which is just not as interesting. 

I said more about how the term gets pretty transphobic and how fetishization is a good criticism lots of times but i’m pretty sure I’m out of words lol 

--

腐女子 is a pun on 婦女子. They're both 'fujoshi'. The 'fu' character means 'rotten' or 'fermented' as in tofu: 豆腐.

English-speaking antis are just morons about language along with everything else and completely misrepresent this word.

Yeah, it was 2chan crying that girls liked something other than them and then women being like "Joke's on you: I'm proud of that".

(In general, insecure douchebags dislike their partners masturbating because they foolishly assume that if a partner has zero experience, they won't be measuring the douchebag against anything. In reality, you can tell if sex was bad without anything to compare it to.)

BL is a genre term for m/m stuff aimed at an assumed female audience. It tends towards romances, but that's not the definition AFAIK. I imagine that women who like gei komi probably also call themselves fujoshi, but the point of the 'fudanshi' term is to denote men who like the "for girls" stuff, not just gei komi.

Is GL used much? I usually see queer women using 'yuri' to talk about f/f manga.

You can drop that "porn equivalent" nonsense though. Aside from some English-language fanfic, there has not been a consistent terminology for softcore vs. hardcore. Both 'BL' and 'yuri' can cover the full spectrum of content.

[violet-moonstone]

to my ryker/dagur and dagur/viggo freaks (non derogatory) - im trying to figure out how i want to write the dynamic in which ryker and viggo are competing with each other.

the first thought i had was that ryker and dagur would get together first - it makes sense, seeing as ryker and dagur spend a lot more time together than dagur and viggo do. i can also see ryker begrudgingly getting close to dagur...maybe not being in love but definitely having affection for him - and then viggo seeing that and suddenly his desire for dagur pretty much coming out of a desire to take something away from his brother. it would make ryker so upset because why cant viggo just let him have ONE GODSDAMNED THING FOR HIMSELF? and viggo would be a smug prick about it.

but on the other hand...i think it would be very funny for ryker to get with dagur after viggo did as an act of rebellion. like viggos always belittling him so he gets a little revenge but then oh shit why does he kind of like this ridiculous, annoying man? why is he growing on him? and viggo would be like i order you to stop sleeping with dagur, he's mine, and rykers like....mmm nah, dont think so.

i think either way dagur would love the attention and try to break up their fights like "boys, boys youre both pretty" and theyd go shut up dagur this isnt about you- and then he's deeply offended like "what do you mean its not about me? how is it not about me???"

like yes they both desire dagur but a lot of it is just using him an extension of their sibling rivalry

i also think viggo/dagur is very much about dagur pleasing viggo and getting validation out of that, meanwhile ryker/dagur is just uh...dagur getting absolutely obliterated

#ryker/dagur #dagur/ryker #rygur #viggur #daggo #viggo/dagur #dagur/viggo

[miscelunaaa]

flurious | ksj

pairing: seokjin x female reader

genre: college au ig. slice of life?? really I have no idea tbh

summary: it's fine, you're not mad at your best friend at all! in fact!! you're so fine that you're going to work off some steam just to prove how fine you are!!

rating: T for too much swearing

word count: 3k

warnings: Based On Real Events™️ (at least in part). Reader can’t ice skate. Lots of swearing. Reader is a stubborn piece of shit (affectionate). Himbecile Namjoon (derogatory). Unrequited crushes if you squint. Very cold winter environments. Small college vibes. Lots of talk about falling on one’s butt and bruises and common impact injuries associated with learning how to do coordinated things like ice skating for the first time; reader’s a tough nugget, she’s doing great. She might also have a slight pain kink oops. Vague prejudice against tenors I’m sorry. Crack if you squint. Angst if you squint. The only thing fluffy about this fic is Jin’s coat tbh, it’s intended to be more of a slice of life than anything else.

notes: Hi. It's missing Seokjin hours in the emothy household so have a short oneshot that I started months ago and randomly finished last night when I couldn't sleep. This really is actually based on a real experience I had, but that's all I'm going to say about the matter alksjhfalsjkdh

For once, I’m not feeling super long winded, so we’re going to leave it at that! Enjoy <3

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

The student union is vacant when you walk into its warm, welcoming arms. It’s perfect. No one can judge you for what you’re about to attempt and that’s exactly what you want.

“I’d like to rent a pair of skates please,” you ask the student worker at the desk. 

She blearily looks up from a thick textbook and asks for your shoe size before standing to fetch them from the equipment closet. In return for the skates, you leave your student I.D. The entire exchange takes mere seconds. You haven’t even regained the warmth in your nose before you’re stepping back out into the cold night and stomping off to the shabby, makeshift ice rink on the quad. 

It’s a clear evening. The stars flicker coldly above, making the eerie yellow light of the campus’s many lamp posts seem warm in comparison. It’s a Saturday evening; no one’s wandering around the tiny college at this strangely late hour, not with a foot of snow pack on the ground, so there’s no one around to watch you angrily try to teach yourself to ice skate. 

Anger comes naturally to you. It’s easy, if not outright comfortable, for you to just sit and stew in the emotion. Yet still it’s all to your detriment, making you feel frazzled and out of control. Times like this call for full body distractions, and what’s better than teaching yourself something you’ve literally never done before?

Falling on your ass is the perfect distraction from your asshole best friend’s bullshit right now. It’s fucking perfect and nothing is stopping you from doing this, least of all him. After all, he’s the one who came back from winter break with a fancy new hair cut and now allll the girls are like “uwu Joonie you look so nice without the perm.” While he’s getting all that attention there’s nothing to stop you from sneaking away, because why on earth would he pay attention to you, his fucking best friend, when he could be paying attention to girls far cuter than you even if they’d thought he was gross when he had the perm? God he’s so fucking stupid. 

It doesn’t bother you at all. You don’t really see the difference anyway. He’s still a total freak even without the perm so you don’t really get the hype. It’ll take five minutes for the fawning to cease because in that time he’ll open his big dumb mouth and anyone with two brain cells to rub together will see how much of a dweeb he still is. Even so, the people continue to come in flocks and crowd you out. There’s alway someone new who wants to look at the newly pretty boy. 

Fuck ... being ignored like that (to your face!!) fucking hurts. Anger is always preferable to the sting of being ignored. The anger means that you’re at least trying to be productive, even as you hide yourself away from the world. The cold is as good a shield as any. 

You sit on the rickety edge of the rink and kick off your boots. Carefully, you pull on each skate and lace them up tight, making sure that your ankles have no room to roll. You find yourself swearing angrily as your gloved hands struggle with the laces, but your anger bolsters your persistence. Nothing can take you down from this high, not even the threat of absolutely biffing it like you know you’re going to.

It takes a moment to talk yourself into standing once you’ve set the blades to the ice. “Just stand to start” is what you tell yourself. After a few moments, and a flash or two of dimples in your mind’s eye, you get yourself to stand. 

With arms flailing, you stay upright for a good ten seconds. Your fatal flaw, however, is hubris. In your hubris you thought you could take a tentative step forward. 

As it turns out, ice can smell fear and has an impact play kink. 

You stare up at the sky for a moment after your first fall. Your ass hurts and will probably ache like a bitch tomorrow, but honestly you’re kind of a masochist; you’re not not into this. Why else would you be in this situation, so angry with your annoyingly cute freak of a best friend that you can hardly function? You knew he was handsome underneath the questionable aesthetic choices, and you knew he was dumb enough that he’d start ignoring you to talk to people he was more romantically interested in as soon as he fixed his appearance. You always knew this would happen, and yet you invested time in him anyway. You always rate last; experiencing this pain was only a matter of time. 

And yet, the seconds tick by. You steel yourself and carefully stand, avoiding a second slip, but only just. You narrow your eyes at your goal: the rink wall opposite of where you started. You’re going to fucking do this, falls be damned. It’s like ten yards. You can totally do this. You’re going to make this stupid ice your bitch.

Eight seconds later, you’re on your ass again. But hey, you made it a few feet forward. Progress is still progress in spite of accrued costs.

And so you stand again. You try doing that pushing thing with the blade of the skate, but something in your body doesn’t expect to move, so you wobble unsteadily for a moment. A breath, and then another push, more gently this time. Ah, you’re doing it! Yet another push and—

Well ... At least the stars make good company. Your elbow hurts this time; you must’ve whacked it in the fall. Feels like it’ll bruise but that’s just the cost of doing business with this rink and your own stupidity. You carefully scramble up, and try again. 

When you finally make it to the other side of the rink, you’re so excited that you trip into the little wall. At least you can catch yourself with your hands this way. And hey, moving to a sitting position isn’t so hard! The cold soothes your achey butt as you let yourself relax for a moment. 

Maybe this was a stupid idea. You can feel the high of white hot rage beginning to cool. You’re not sure if it’s the pain or the exertion. Maybe it’s time to pack up and return the skates. It’s getting late after all, you probably need to at least try to sleep. 

You’re so mired in your thoughts that you almost miss the backlit figure appear, exiting the student union. Whoever it is is wearing a big puffy coat, and they have something odd looking in their hands. After a moment you realize, heat crawling up your neck, that the item in their hands is a pair of skates, and they’re walking across the quad to the rink.

You stand quickly, albeit unsteadily, as if to show that the rink is occupied, but alas, they seem undeterred. Shit. The only thing that could make this worse is if you were to suddenly loose your balance.

Lo and behold, fate has a sense of humor, and you do just that before you can think to do anything else.

You grimace as you sit up. You weren’t expecting an audience for this. As the figure approaches, you see that it’s one of the guys who works the student union’s cafe some evenings. He’s always seemed nice enough and ugh, he’s cute too. He’s got these broad shoulders that your friends love to stare at while they wait for their drinks to be made. Definitely not the audience you’d prefer if you must have one. As you scramble back upright, he sits at the edge of the rink and starts to unlace his boots. 

“Hello,” he says quietly, glancing up as he pulls on a skate. His voice is low, with a rich timbre you didn’t expect. He sounds like he might be a tenor. You hate tenors. You hate musicians. Namjoon’s a musician too, the bastard.

“Hi,” you reply flatly, trying not to grit your teeth in frustration. You don’t even look at him when he looks at you; you don’t need his approval, and looking at him will just make you shy. You don’t have time for that shit, damn it. With care, you try to push forward again, before stopping, arms flailing. You only just manage to preserve your balance and straighten up so you can try again.

The intruder watches you warily as he starts to pull on his rented skates. You can feel the press of his curiosity on the back of your neck and you don’t know how to politely ask for him to simply not.

You’re pretty sure you see him flinch when your skates suddenly, but inevitably, slip out from beneath you, leaving you sprawled out on your ass, the ice beneath cold yet soothing for your bruised buttocks. And yet, he says nothing as he pushes off from the side of the rink, gracefully no less. He says nothing as you pull yourself up again, only to fall again as well, just as you were finding your balance. You take a deep breath, fog slowly coming from your lips as you let it out. Once you’re to your feet again, and without falling this time, you can’t help but let yourself smile, just a little, just to yourself. 

Giving up whomst? You could never. 

For a moment, you just stand on the ice, breathing and letting yourself feel the skates wrapped around your feet and ankles. Just a small push now. Can’t let this rando see you sweat now, can you?

The stranger watches, his handsome face blank but for curious eyes, as you make it a whole fifteen seconds before slipping and falling again, this time onto a knee and your hands. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him grimace as you look at your hands and dust them of with a huffed little “fuck.”

He’s literally skating circles around you. It’s fucking obnoxious, but damn it, you want to be able to skate like that too. So you stand up again, and vicious cycle begins anew.

“You okay?” the stranger suddenly asks. It startles you, the wobble almost sending you to the ice with a crack yet again. 

“I’m fine.” Your tone is clipped with frustration. You sure as shit don’t sound fine.

He drifts across your field of vision, going fucking backwards on his skates. It’s like it’s nothing! Fucking show off. What a fucking d—

Alright. That fall kind of hurt for real. Your poor elbows. They might be having a worse time than your knees. Did you just knock the wind out of yourself with that one?

His words come from a little closer this time. “Are you sure you’re—“

“—I’m fucking fine.”

You didn’t mean to snap. You really didn’t. Everything was fine until this dude just joined you out here out of the blue with his stupid face and his stupid talent and—

“You’re really scrappy, you know that right?”

You glare at him as you push yourself back to your feet. His plush mouth splits into a heart-rending smile. Fuck, he’s cute. Bitch, do not do this to yourself.

He keeps talking as you struggle aright. “I mean it. I’ve never watched someone keep falling like that just to get up and try again.”

You’re not even sure what to say to that. You’re glad you’ve got the built in focus of trying to do something out of your comfort zone and skill set, so an immediate reply isn’t expected. But you do have to say something in reply eventually. The comment was just ... kind of unexpected. And honestly, you think he meant it well, and it’s hard not to let the pride push a smile to your face. You fight it, of course, because you’re supposed to be angry, not pleased.

“I’m too stubborn for my own good,” you finally grit out. “But thank you.” Ah, that was good. Keep that shit up, and maybe he won’t think you’re a total freak by the time one or the other of you leaves. 

“There are worse things to be.” His smile is warm enough to melt the ice beneath the blades of your skates. Cold? What cold? You feel nothing but blistering heat creeping up your neck. You’re not used to this kind of attention from anyone, if you’re being honest, let alone cute barista boys in puffy coats. “Tenacity isn’t a bad thing.”

“The bruises on my ass say otherwise.”

When he laughs, it’s low in his chest, velvety like the milk he steams for the cute folks that come to him for lattes and London fogs. You’d be swept away by his charms completely as well if you weren’t too busy being swept off your feet by your own stupidity. 

You hardly feel the thump when you hit the hard surface of the ice this time. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re cold or if it’s just you’re used to falling now. The numbness of either is the same after a certain point; that’s the point of numbness, after all.

For a moment, you stare at the sky. It gives you a moment to catch your breath. Watching the stars twinkle and flicker as if they’re laughing at something reminds you that, right, you’re not alone out here on the ice. You hope the stars aren’t laughing at your shitty attempts to flirt with this stranger. 

When you pull yourself up to sit, you see that the cute stranger is carefully skating backwards, his head turned and tilted so he can see where he’s going. Good lord, he’s handsome, even like this. In the grimy street lamp light, you can see that his face has been kissed by the cold, but it doesn’t do much to make him look less attractive. The focus on his face makes it almost look suggestive as he bites down on his plush lip. For a moment, you allow yourself to watch, thankful that he’s not looking at you.

When he glances at you, still sitting on the ice with your legs spread haphazardly, your eyes meet his. He smiles at you. Suddenly, the air leaves your lungs as if you’ve fallen again, the wind knocked from them like you’ve taken a blow. And then as soon as it happens, it stops, for one moment he was smiling at you, and the next he was sprawled on the ice with a thud and the smallest, cutest “fuck” you’ve ever heard in your life.

The look of surprise on his face is so aghast that you can’t help but laugh. 

“I’m so—“ wheeze “—s-sorry, I shouldn’t—“ fuck, that’s hilarious “—laugh b-but the look on your f-face!” 

The shock fades, only to be replaced by a pout that cracks at the edges as he tries not to laugh with you. 

You start to push yourself forward him, half crawling, half crab-walking. Soon the pout breaks into a smile as you sit beside him and poke his cheek with a gloved finger. Where on earth did that fucking come from?? You’re poking strangers now?? 

“How does it feel to be a mere mortal?” you ask. Maybe the question will distract from the ... random face poking? Maybe the cold really is getting to you. 

“Never said I was good at skating,” he says, still smiling at you. “Though I can’t say I feel like getting up and trying again after that.”

You scoff. “You’re giving up too easily. What’s the opposite of tenacious?” 

“Cold.”

“That’s fair. I’m not even sure if I can feel my ass at this point.”

He laughs, and the deep sound seems to rumble in his chest, just like it had when you’d first heard it. But then he does the unexpected, and holds out a hand to you. “I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself in kind. “You work at the cafe right?”

“Yeah. It gets hot back there, I like doing something in the cold after a shift if I can.”

You nod. “I get it. I’m out here because a friend pissed me off and I needed to work through it.”

“Can’t kick their ass so you’re letting the ice kick your ass instead?”

Not even the heat of embarrassment can heat up your cold cheeks at this point. He’s read you like a book. You’re poking strangers, and he’s reading you like he probably reads his homework. 

“Alright, it’s getting really fucking cold out here,” Seokjin suddenly says. He pulls himself towards the nearest sideboard and sits on top of it. “I’m calling it a night.”

You don’t expect his expectant look. “What?”

“You’ve been out here longer than me. Can you even feel your fingers at this point?”

“Um.” There’s some small part of you that doesn’t want this to end, but lying about it feels futile when you know he’s going to see right through it. “No.”

“I think it might be a good idea for you to head in too ...” he says, and then: “I could sneak back into the cafe for some hot water. Want to have some tea to warm up? Maybe you could talk about this friend who pissed you off.”

It’s late, if you’re being honest. You should probably go home and lick your wounds. But as you pull yourself up onto the sideboard with Seokjin, you decide that staying out might be worth it. Staying out in the first place is what got you on the ice. Staying out kept you here, which in turn meant you got to meet Seokjin. Staying out meant you got to talk and have this moment. It’s a relief to just be able to talk, rather than fight for someone’s attention.

What’s another few minutes?

“Sure, I’d like that.”

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

posted: 12.6.2022

#bts fic #bts fanfic #kim seokjin fic #ksj x reader #ksj x female reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin x f reader #seokjin x female reader

[scattered-winter]

wait hang on who are the hot gay boys in that gif set you reblogged

HGLHSIERGLSJDGALKSHGLK i was gonna put the [do you have any idea how little that narrows it down] meme but im pretty sure u mean this one <3 and in any case i will always be down to ramble about the Sillies(tm)

ok so those guys in particular are from the fox procedural called 9-1-1 Lone Star, which is a spinoff of the original 9-1-1 (which just got moved to abc after some Drama that went down so my tag for it is 911 (not fox) lmaoo). but both shows are about first responders (firefighters, paramedics, dispatchers, police) with a particular focus on firefighters. 9-1-1 (the og) is set in LA, and primarily focuses on the 118 firehouse and the firefighters/paramedics there with some other characters in the main cast who work as dispatchers/police officers (the police storylines are more often than not FULL of copaganda which sucks but the main focus is on the firefighters so i'm able to enjoy the rest of the show). 9-1-1 Lone Star is pretty much the same except it's set in austin texas, and is about the 126 firehouse. there are onscreen queer characters in both (in the og there's a married lesbian couple raising a kid, and in lone star there's the aforementioned hot gay boys [one of whom is unfortunately a cop but i swear to GOD i will get him out of there. one day.] and in lone star there's also a trans man and wlw woman in the main cast.) and my favorite thing about these shows is the found family !!! like these are the shows that have endeared firefighter aus to me because they live together and eat meals together and just. the familial/platonic love is So Powerful and it legiterally makes me cry to watch. like there's romance ofc but genuinely it's one of my favorite found family medias to ever exist. its So.

of the two the og is my favorite for a LOT of reasons, but they're both pretty enjoyable !! lone star definitely has more of a comedic tone than og (theyre BOTH funny but lone star doesn't have as many somber intense moments as og does, and they're much more spread out so there's a lot more room for goofy shenanigans. but og still definitely has plenty of those) and the team dynamics in them both are just...ughhh <3333

HOWEVER. lone star has ..... Him...(derogatory)...he's the fire captain and (despite lone star SUPPOSEDLY being an ensemble show with no Main Character) is in fact. the Main Character. and he's the blandest most obnoxious crustiest white man to ever LIVE. he gets most of the storylines and he's constantly propped up by the writing as The Coolest Guy Ever when he's just . not . i hate him so much it's unreal it's soo so unreal (<- biting the bars of my cage) BUT the rest of the team ??? absolutely love them. like i DO love lone star a lot its a great show with great characters and dynamics but it just has. the most annoying guy to ever live front and center when ITS SUPPOSED TO BE AN ENSEMBLE SHOW FEATURING EVERYONE EQUALLY. grr. anyway. og does a much better job of being an ensemble show, and i could not choose a favorite character of the main cast if you held me at gunpoint. angela bassett is there. i am gay. jennifer love hewitt is there. i am very gay. etcetera.

AND SINCE YOU ASKED SPECIFICALLY ABOUT THE LONE STAR GAYS ILL TELL YOU A BIT ABOUT THEM

so one of them is tk strand (firefighter/paramedic, also the son of the Main Character (derogatory). i have many many many thoughts about that. i would probably get gunned down in this fandom if i ever said them aloud.) and the other one is carlos reyes (a private detective TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE but unfortunately fox is full of cowards who refuse to see the truth. they wanna have a gay cop in their show sooo bad </3) and they're kind of the main romance of the show (there Are others ofc but theyre like. The Focus. which is fine ig but i do wish there was more focus on other relationships because in general lone star isnt as good as the ensemble thing as og. but i already complained about that so i digress.)

now they're a fun pair because one of them has been shot, frozen almost to death, and otherwise put into a coma on MULTIPLE occasions. and it's not the guy whose entire job is to get shot at. (the whump in both of these shows.....................absolutely effervescent. im thriving here.) and they have a very fascinating relationship because their personalities fit together really well but they have different ways of coping with shit that kind of tear each other apart a little bit. which is of course terrible for them but incredible for me. and the writing is at times ridiculous. soap opera-esque, even. they're ridiculous. i adore them. they cannot catch a god damn break and i love that for them even more. <3

#I DO LOVE BOTH SHOWS A LOT I PROMISE I JUST HATE OWEN </3 #would recommend watching og first just because its my fav of the two. of course u do not have to but i would be over the moon if u did #but there's no pressure ofc ofc im just happy to ramble about the Show Ever #there IS a crossover episode where the two stations meet because the 118 (la) are called in to help with a big wildfire in texas #with a bunch of other firefighters in the region #its my beloved episode of all time. for fucking real. #franke 🔪 #911 abc #911 lone star #also literally ANYONE you ask will say that the og also has a gay couple in the main cast (buddie) but. its a very popular ship #that is of yet not canon. and oh my god. do i have some complicated feelings about buddie. hoooo boy. #(i Do love their relationship and i Do think they work well together and i Do think it could be compelling for it to happen but. But. #the levels of brainrot (derogatory) that i have seen in this fandom over those two...absolutely fucking bonkers. #its a minefield out there. im being so fr u gotta watch your BACK #anyway. i could write an essay on them and how complicated it be. </3 #ANYWAY TEEEHEE TY FOR ASKING :]] #i can send u sooo many scenes . you need only ask <- no pressure ofc but they are just So... #found fambly...

[arcplaysgames]

I still fucking love his candor. The functional god of the world calls you up like "Hello there, did I keep you waiting? Sorry."

The level of calm he has here is truly amazing. I am curious if it's a resignation to things, that either he will succeed or not and he's at peace with that, or if there will finally be a crack in his genteel facade in the final battle.

BUT WE AIN'T THERE YET. FIRST, THIS.

THE FACT HE JUST. Calls up, asks to stop by the cafe to pick up his calling card, it's just CHEF'S KISS

Maruki settles in with some coffee and gives the same old spiel he always gives, because really he's been negotiating with the same hand every time.

Akechi is sour apple tart about it all, bless him. Reverie and Maruki can have a civil conversation about the future of reality, but Akechi is sucking lemons and making no effort to hide that. Love Mask Off Akechi with my whole chest.

But also like. MAN. Y'ALL. I had to get up and get some fucking TEA at this point because I was like oh my god they're gonna do it i knew it i dreamed of it.

I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY WENT THERE

I cannot BELIEVE it.

Reverie got NOTHING out of this fucking new reality, fucking nothing at all, while all of his friends were handed their perfect idyllic lives.

No, the one thing Reverie gets is Akechi.

I cannot believe they actually went there. Holy shit. That's one I didn't expect to call because it's Gay.

Literally nothing changes about his tone or face or posture, but he's lying. Like that moment allllllllllllllll the way back at the buffet when his college buddy mentioned Rumi and nothing changed in Maruki's face but I felt it, how the weight of the moment had just flipped on its axis.

He's lying because this is a hostage situation. He's just too polite to call it one.

I love the motion of Reverie flicking the calling card across the table at Maruki, the casualness of it. Everyone in the room knows the game.

Maruki says the deal is this. He'll go and prepare to meet them in his Palace. If they show up, there will be a fight. If they don't show up, he will take that as them accepting the new reality.

And he leaves. Akechi asks to speak to Reverie alone.

Honest to god, I feel like the canon resolution if you choose to stay in this reality is Akechi leaves and self-terminates. His intense disgust with being anyone's pawn ever again is drenching every word he says.

These two truly are the apex of "Your soul resembles mine (derogatory)" and it's both thrilling and crushing. Also, jfc, Maruki pointing out there isn't ill will or hatred between them. That's honestly so much to unpack.

How much of Akechi being This Degree of a fucking bitch for the last MONTH was genuine and how much was a purposeful attempt to keep anyone from growing attached to him when he's on borrowed time.

To be clear: I still think mask off Akechi is genuinely a huge bitch, but he's pushed his unpleasantness to some pretty incredible extremes....

But also he's avoid doing it other times. He's unerringly civil with Haru and Futaba, for instance. And there's like two moments he makes especially off-color jokes about violence and then admits he's kidding and softens the blow.

I just wonder what might've been different if he didn't know there was a bullet with his name on it already en route and the fate of reality itself depended on him taking it in the chest and preventing anyone from getting in the way.

Final persona pop of the game, I think.

Well, I've definitely seen worse.

Anyway, cannot believe the plot of this campaign is literally "the self-made god of this world offers you a life with the mean boy of your dreams" but here we are.

#p5 #persona liveblog

[kidflashimpulse]

saw a post you made a while back answering an ask about YJA Bart's civvie life mirroring the comics, and i realized that comic Bart went straight into high school due to being 14 going on 15 when he came to the past, but YJA Bart was 12 going on 13, so he'd be in middle school for a little over a year first. so! an idea i thought i'd share: people mostly think he's Weird (derogatory) in middle school because that's where he goes through his biggest adjustment period. middle school is frustrating for him, but he manages. then high school happens and suddenly he's Mr Popularity bc 1) he's more used to being in school now, even if he still doesn't like it and high school is a different beast, 2) his West-Allen (and Meloni) related pretty genes have started to properly kick in (underrated Bart fact: he's supposed to be noticeably good-looking. like not just cute, but a Certified Pretty Boy. it gets brought up SO MUCH in his solo it's so funny) and he has a canon big growth spurt between 13 and 15, and 3) there's a ton of new ppl his age who have no established opinions of him the way others do. and like in the comics Bart hates the attention and keeps almost exclusively to his friends (one of my fave running gags is Bart being surrounded by people trying to get his attention and he just keeps doing what he's doing without engaging or even reacting barely at all)

omg anon…. this ask has given me the biggest smile ever because it just brings back so many memories of my first ever (drafted) fic ahhhhhhhh !!! especially because of the way it starts!! in middle school where he’s the certified weirdo!!! not that he minds it at all he’s more concerned with the whole concept of wtf even is school and how’s he supposed to be stuck in a classroom when he has more pressing issues like uh preventing an impending apocalypse?? lmfao but yes that first year/couple months is a huge adjustment period for him, at the very least in terms of school.

the thing is at least in my non-existent fic, i was really motivated to have carol and preston be the first civilians he befriended, which would be in middle school. But then I also want them (and others) to be his classmates throughout high school too! Cause u know, they’re the civilians we know that he interacts with and gets along. I don’t think the chances of that are too off because if they all live within the same district it would be reasonable to assume they’d attend the same high school? Like not the exact same class, but there r bound to be a few familiar faces. But that’s not rlly a problem for the concept that u outlined considering they’re his friends so the whole preconceived notion thing wouldn’t play much of a role in the first place (and if anything more accurately reflect the plot of how Carol befriends him and then at that point worries about popularity getting to him, like the impulse timeline was crazy fast (understandably ig)) . Also like yes, mirroring the comics he accidentally becomes quite popular lmfao but like u said it’s high school so it’s not without its totally dramatised plot issues (i could come up with way too many honestly they’re just so entertaining especially considering like how i mentioned he wants no part in it both intentionally as well as not lol) just like the impulse run!

Certified Pretty Boy huh that’s just as much as a trait to him as it is him having brown hair (which is always! suck it red hair truthers lmfao) but yes totally!! His genes have done him well and it’s obviously the reason why everyone is in love with him (looking at u Preston /j /srs)

basically, thank u for sharing your thoughts with us <3 cause it’s just so entertaining to think about all this!! I’m not even exaggerating i could come up with so many plots about his school experience i think there’s just so much room for potential and fun and it’s pretty amusing to think about. I would love to write a fic o. it specifically (side eye to that first fic lol) but unfortunately i’ve just got one brain and set of hands and can only really focus on one fic at a time 🫠 on the bright side i am planning on covering at least a little bit of his civvie life in the next chapter of AAIT (still in its really early stages so it’ll take a while, sorry) so if anyones interested in that, stay tuned lol

#YJ asks #bart allen #young justice #impulse #kid flash #yj #carol bucklen #preston lindsay

[tamamita]

absolute mess of replies saying Yes Definitely or No Absolutely Not on your post asking about femboy but basically it has always been pretty derogatory its like the ''nice'' or ''polite'' version of Tr*p where it doesnt have accusatory connotations, i.e. you are trapping me into sleeping with a Man™ ?? etc. but still usually referring to trans women or Ambiguous characters who are trans women but we have to make it Ambiguous, like it has never been meant to be understood as a feminine boy its specific to ''person who at first appears to be Female™ but context reveals they are lying/pretending/just like to present that way, and are actually Males™''

the other context its frequently used is like force fem shit so that is uh Yeah Maybe not the best. like typically in the sense of ''making'' a femboy, but since that is pretty intense kink shit I wont delve into it too much lmao

i guess its not quite a slur but not exactly a great word to use because whether its about fetishising trans women or demonising us its still mo

its most often referring to trans women and in a dehumanising way. i think its fine to self id as regardless of that but important to be aware n prob best not to use it in general but especially for the characters most people would think of as femboys lol

Source: am trans woman raised by the internet

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

Interesting! For the most part, I've seen trans people telling me it's used as a self-identifier and that it should only be applied to those who are comfortable with it, however, they do concur with the opinion that it's also used by transmisogynists to dehumanize or fetishize trans women. As for the replies, the most popular opinion is that it depends on the context while some are of the opinion that it isn't (though I assume they don't take the fetishization part into account); I've yet to see someone actually say that it is.

I appreciate your response btw! I feel like I'm learning a lot today!

[flowerpotmage]

Hello flowerpot! I'm glad that your ask box is open.

What sort of close friend do you think Aemond, Aegon and/or would Daemon be?

Hiii!! This is very interesting to think about tbh! I was thinking about it, and obviously we aren't reeeally shown any of them having non-familial based friendships.

This got long because I'm sooooooo normal, so headcanons below the cut

Daemon is particularly interesting in my mind, because I don't think he's ever had a real friendship of any sort. The closest I think he's gotten to having a friend is probably when he was in charge of the gold cloaks and when he was off at the stepstones. But even then I think it only went as far as camaraderie: these were men he was in charge of, working with, fighting alongside. There might be a bond there for sure, but I don't think it was ever something I'd call friendship. I see Daemon as exceptionally hierarchical, he sees everyone inseparably from their place on the hierarchy, and I think that would carry into any start of true friendship he might encounter. I think the start of any friendship worth its salt with Daemon might have a perplexing start.

He definitely wouldn't be the sort of friend that would pull figurative punches, he's definitely the sort to be brutally honest - but in a close friendship he wouldn't be needlessly cruel. He might say shit that'd hurt your feelings, and he might apologize for the delivery (rarely, more likely if called out on saying something shitty), but never for the content of what he's said. I do think he'd be pretty loyal to anyone he deemed worthy of being a close friend - until he had something major, and i mean major to gain. That aside, I think he'd be decently trustworthy and do his very best to keep his word to a close friend. There'd always be a little bit of a power imbalance in the friendship, what with him being a Targ prince and all, but I think there'd be respect regardless. Show him loyalty in the friendship and he'll do the same.

Now, have you ever had that friend that texts you 30 minutes to 9pm and tells you they're gonna be there at 9 to pick you up and go to bars with three other people until 2am? That's Aegon. Any close friend of his is probably constantly being dragged into his party boy antics (Aemond voice: depravity), or he's at least attempting to drag them into it. You have to be down to drink with him, or else there's no way he's spending enough time around you for any real friendship to start. Honestly I see a close friendship with him starting because he got a little too sad!drunk and whoever was around that was nice ended up taking care of his messy weepy pathetic little meow meow ass (affectionate)(derogatory) and they had some sort of heart to heart bonding moment.

I see Aegon doing silly things to express his platonic affection: kind gestures or gifts wrapped in the shape of a joke or a prank to cover up the sincerity ("hashtag no homo" vibes). He'd help you cover up any fuck ups you get anxious about with a casual wave of his hand, a pouch of coin, and pushing you to sit and join him for a drink in his solar type vibes.

Aemond, shockingly, I think would be the healthiest close friend. Loyal, serious af, wants to just talk about princely Targaryen nonsense like his studies, his training, he'd vent about Aegon, and he'd be interested in his friend's life in return. He'd be a more tactful about his opinions than Daemon, but he wouldn't coddle your feelings either and he'd be honest about pretty much everything. This is the friend you play board games with and talk about like, your feelings about god with and how you feel about how your life is going. A little pretentious, but takes you seriously too. I do think there would be like... Similar to Daemon, even with a close friend the power imbalance is always under the surface but he's chill about it 99% of the time

#answered asks #thanks for the ask! i got carried away lol #i lost steam with aemond tbh i can feel the vibe but im just sooo sleepy rn #daemon targaryen headcanon #aegon ii targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen headcanon