#ask the internet and the people you pay if youre a good person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mortalityplays · 8 months ago

Text

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

#announcement #please reblog let's make this HAPPEN

3K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months ago

Text

Even if you think AI search could be good, it won’t be good

TONIGHT (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

The big news in search this week is that Google is continuing its transition to "AI search" – instead of typing in search terms and getting links to websites, you'll ask Google a question and an AI will compose an answer based on things it finds on the web:

https://blog.google/products/search/generative-ai-google-search-may-2024/

Google bills this as "let Google do the googling for you." Rather than searching the web yourself, you'll delegate this task to Google. Hidden in this pitch is a tacit admission that Google is no longer a convenient or reliable way to retrieve information, drowning as it is in AI-generated spam, poorly labeled ads, and SEO garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Googling used to be easy: type in a query, get back a screen of highly relevant results. Today, clicking the top links will take you to sites that paid for placement at the top of the screen (rather than the sites that best match your query). Clicking further down will get you scams, AI slop, or bulk-produced SEO nonsense.

AI-powered search promises to fix this, not by making Google search results better, but by having a bot sort through the search results and discard the nonsense that Google will continue to serve up, and summarize the high quality results.

Now, there are plenty of obvious objections to this plan. For starters, why wouldn't Google just make its search results better? Rather than building a LLM for the sole purpose of sorting through the garbage Google is either paid or tricked into serving up, why not just stop serving up garbage? We know that's possible, because other search engines serve really good results by paying for access to Google's back-end and then filtering the results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Another obvious objection: why would anyone write the web if the only purpose for doing so is to feed a bot that will summarize what you've written without sending anyone to your webpage? Whether you're a commercial publisher hoping to make money from advertising or subscriptions, or – like me – an open access publisher hoping to change people's minds, why would you invite Google to summarize your work without ever showing it to internet users? Nevermind how unfair that is, think about how implausible it is: if this is the way Google will work in the future, why wouldn't every publisher just block Google's crawler?

A third obvious objection: AI is bad. Not morally bad (though maybe morally bad, too!), but technically bad. It "hallucinates" nonsense answers, including dangerous nonsense. It's a supremely confident liar that can get you killed:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/sep/01/mushroom-pickers-urged-to-avoid-foraging-books-on-amazon-that-appear-to-be-written-by-ai

The promises of AI are grossly oversold, including the promises Google makes, like its claim that its AI had discovered millions of useful new materials. In reality, the number of useful new materials Deepmind had discovered was zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

This is true of all of AI's most impressive demos. Often, "AI" turns out to be low-waged human workers in a distant call-center pretending to be robots:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

Sometimes, the AI robot dancing on stage turns out to literally be just a person in a robot suit pretending to be a robot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

The AI video demos that represent "an existential threat to Hollywood filmmaking" turn out to be so cumbersome as to be practically useless (and vastly inferior to existing production techniques):

https://www.wheresyoured.at/expectations-versus-reality/

But let's take Google at its word. Let's stipulate that:

a) It can't fix search, only add a slop-filtering AI layer on top of it; and

b) The rest of the world will continue to let Google index its pages even if they derive no benefit from doing so; and

c) Google will shortly fix its AI, and all the lies about AI capabilities will be revealed to be premature truths that are finally realized.

AI search is still a bad idea. Because beyond all the obvious reasons that AI search is a terrible idea, there's a subtle – and incurable – defect in this plan: AI search – even excellent AI search – makes it far too easy for Google to cheat us, and Google can't stop cheating us.

Remember: enshittification isn't the result of worse people running tech companies today than in the years when tech services were good and useful. Rather, enshittification is rooted in the collapse of constraints that used to prevent those same people from making their services worse in service to increasing their profit margins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

These companies always had the capacity to siphon value away from business customers (like publishers) and end-users (like searchers). That comes with the territory: digital businesses can alter their "business logic" from instant to instant, and for each user, allowing them to change payouts, prices and ranking. I call this "twiddling": turning the knobs on the system's back-end to make sure the house always wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

What changed wasn't the character of the leaders of these businesses, nor their capacity to cheat us. What changed was the consequences for cheating. When the tech companies merged to monopoly, they ceased to fear losing your business to a competitor.

Google's 90% search market share was attained by bribing everyone who operates a service or platform where you might encounter a search box to connect that box to Google. Spending tens of billions of dollars every year to make sure no one ever encounters a non-Google search is a cheaper way to retain your business than making sure Google is the very best search engine:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Competition was once a threat to Google; for years, its mantra was "competition is a click away." Today, competition is all but nonexistent.

Then the surveillance business consolidated into a small number of firms. Two companies dominate the commercial surveillance industry: Google and Meta, and they collude to rig the market:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

That consolidation inevitably leads to regulatory capture: shorn of competitive pressure, the companies that dominate the sector can converge on a single message to policymakers and use their monopoly profits to turn that message into policy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is why Google doesn't have to worry about privacy laws. They've successfully prevented the passage of a US federal consumer privacy law. The last time the US passed a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988. It's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

In Europe, Google's vast profits lets it fly an Irish flag of convenience, thus taking advantage of Ireland's tolerance for tax evasion and violations of European privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, and it also doesn't fear rival technologies. Google and its fellow Big Tech cartel members have expanded IP law to allow it to prevent third parties from reverse-engineer, hacking, or scraping its services. Google doesn't have to worry about ad-blocking, tracker blocking, or scrapers that filter out Google's lucrative, low-quality results:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, it doesn't fear rival technology and it doesn't fear its workers. Google's workforce once enjoyed enormous sway over the company's direction, thanks to their scarcity and market power. But Google has outgrown its dependence on its workers, and lays them off in vast numbers, even as it increases its profits and pisses away tens of billions on stock buybacks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

Google is fearless. It doesn't fear losing your business, or being punished by regulators, or being mired in guerrilla warfare with rival engineers. It certainly doesn't fear its workers.

Making search worse is good for Google. Reducing search quality increases the number of queries, and thus ads, that each user must make to find their answers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

If Google can make things worse for searchers without losing their business, it can make more money for itself. Without the discipline of markets, regulators, tech or workers, it has no impediment to transferring value from searchers and publishers to itself.

Which brings me back to AI search. When Google substitutes its own summaries for links to pages, it creates innumerable opportunities to charge publishers for preferential placement in those summaries.

This is true of any algorithmic feed: while such feeds are important – even vital – for making sense of huge amounts of information, they can also be used to play a high-speed shell-game that makes suckers out of the rest of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

When you trust someone to summarize the truth for you, you become terribly vulnerable to their self-serving lies. In an ideal world, these intermediaries would be "fiduciaries," with a solemn (and legally binding) duty to put your interests ahead of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

But Google is clear that its first duty is to its shareholders: not to publishers, not to searchers, not to "partners" or employees.

AI search makes cheating so easy, and Google cheats so much. Indeed, the defects in AI give Google a readymade excuse for any apparent self-dealing: "we didn't tell you a lie because someone paid us to (for example, to recommend a product, or a hotel room, or a political point of view). Sure, they did pay us, but that was just an AI 'hallucination.'"

The existence of well-known AI hallucinations creates a zone of plausible deniability for even more enshittification of Google search. As Madeleine Clare Elish writes, AI serves as a "moral crumple zone":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

That's why, even if you're willing to believe that Google could make a great AI-based search, we can nevertheless be certain that they won't.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

djhughman https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modular_synthesizer_-_%22Control_Voltage%22_electronic_music_shop_in_Portland_OR_-_School_Photos_PCC_%282015-05-23_12.43.01_by_djhughman%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #twiddling #ai #ai search #enshittification #discipline #google #search #monopolies #moral crumple zones #plausible deniability #algorithmic feeds

1K notes · View notes

ohnoitstbskyen · 2 months ago

Text

I deleted the ask, but someone wrote one basically saying "why do you post reaction videos to Helluva Boss? Don't you know the show exploits its workers and they're overworked and get burned out?"

And, I mean, I love your energy, person who asked, definitely hold on to those values and speak up about this. But also, I am afraid I might have some bad news for you about literally the whole entire animation industry.

As near as I can make out from the sparse journalistic reporting that's been done on SpindleHorse -- and as a sidebar, please for the love of god read actual reporting about these things and not just callout posts and fandom discourse -- as near as I can make out, SpindleHorse as a studio is neither all that much better nor all that much worse than basically anywhere else in the industry on their level. It seems like it is (or was? Hazbin Hotel seems to be run differently) a studio mostly run by contracting people on a project-by-project basis, which leads to a crapton of turnover, and a huge need for organizing and onboarding, which according to the reporting I have read, the producers and freelancers have struggled to balance and manage properly, which has negatively impacted a number of the workers.

Top that with the usual catty, clique-based backbiting, sniping and poorly managed conflict resolution that's just kinda endemic in creative environments mostly staffed by twentysomethings and stressed out freelancers, and you have the recipe for a workplace where a lot of people are going to have a great time and feel creatively fulfilled, and a lot of people are going to come away feeling justifiably burnt the fuck out and exploited.

All of this is... not especially unusual for the animation industry, or indeed for any creative industry. Which is not to say that it is good, or that it should be allowed to be normal, or that it shouldn't be reported on and criticized (and please for the love of god support unionization efforts because that's the only thing that will actually address these kinds of systemic problems). It's just to say that if those kinds of issues are the line in the sand you draw where you refuse to engage with a studio's output...

Then, for starters, say goodbye to basically all of anime, because the Japanese animation industry is actively in a state of crisis trying to recruit new talent because its working conditions and pay are so astonishingly abysmal. And the horror stories that escape from that industry make the issues at SpindleHorse look like summer camp at times.

But you also have to say goodbye to a lot of American and European animation. Please do not imagine that Disney and its subcontractors, or that Nickelodeon or Warner Bros, are benevolent employers. They exploit their staff brutally and are currently trying to crush the labor value of animation with threats of generative AI being used to replace jobs. But those corporations also have extremely well-funded PR departments and the ability to silence employees with NDAs and threats of blackballing, so you don't get to hear as many of the horror stories as you might from a smaller independent studio that's less able to silence criticism by holding people's careers hostage.

All of this is to say that 1) it's valid and important to have criticism of both large and small-scale animation studios, and to keep the well-being and happiness of the workers higher in your priorities than the output of Products™.

And 2) if you're going to have a principle for what kinds of problems make a studio's output morally untouchable for you, and what kinds of problems you think should make a studio's output untouchable to other people, you do need to apply that principle consistently to the entire industry, and not just to the independent animation studio that happens to be surrounded by the internet's most inflammatory fandom discourse.

If you don't apply that principle consistently, maybe don't send reproachful messages to strangers scolding them for not living up to your standards, and even if you do apply that principle consistently, maybe still don't do that, because it's mostly quite annoying, and doesn't really do anything to support animation workers struggling for better working conditions.

The Animation Guild in the US is currently in the middle of a bargaining process with their industry, and they have a social media press kit as well as relevant talking points on their website which you can use to post in solidarity with the workers. If it comes to a full industry strike, consider donating to their strike funds to help them maintain pressure. Outside of the US, try and find out what (if any) local unions exist for animation workers, and maybe sign up to their mailing lists. They will let you know what kind of support they need from you.

#tb posting

768 notes · View notes

ningvory · 1 month ago

Text

SCREAM - jang wonyoung

1,740 words // yall i wanted to do kinktober sooo baddd but im so outta ideas and school and work has been draining😔 so instead i'll just write 2-3 more halloween themed fics

CW: noncon -> dubcon, ghostface!wonyoung, big dick wony, bully!reader, a little knife play, choking, backshots, doggy, missionary, a little tit play, mentions of reader getting impregnated, squirting, not proofread lolz

its about 11pm on a friday, 'means girls' is playing on your living room tv while you were in the kitchen searching for a pot to put your noodles in. your parents left for their business trip to wherever, you weren't really paying attention after they mentioned you'll be alone for two weeks and that you had a spending allowance of 5k, which is why you were wearing your new black lingerie set under your fuzzy pink robe.

you were humming a song as you head to the pantry to get a bottle of water to fill the pot with until you heard your phone ringtone go off. you went to mute the tv and grabbed your phone, tapping the answer button. you held the phone up to your ear but you're met with silence.

"hello?~" you questioned, dragging out the word. it was a habit of yours when you were annoyed,

"didn't think you'd pick up." the voice was cheerful, too cheerful to the point where it had you furrow your eyebrows trying figure out who's calling you at this time.

"well, i did. so.." you responded with a little bit of attitude. you were starving and here this stranger is playing on your phone. "listen, who the hell are you and what do you want?" you raise your voice a octave.

"your tits look good in that bra, wish i can see the way your ass looks in the panties." you furrow your eyebrows once more. every window was locked and your curtains blocked any prying eyes from seeing inside.

"um—you must've gotten the wrong number or something. i'm hanging up now." you smile half heartedly, trying to wrap things up, whoever this girl is can probably hear your labored breathing.

"hang up this fuckin' phone and i’m killing you myself!" she quickly responded, you froze immediately. especially after hearing some sort of bang coming from upstairs, “not so tought without your friends here, hm y/n?"

you were assuming this was a silly halloween prank call but she knows you personally! she knows your friends and even your name—you can admit that you were a bitch to most people but you didn't think that someone would break in and kill you for it!

"w-what kinda joke is this? this isn’t funny!" you let out a nervous laugh. no way this is fucking real, this is just a prank, right?

the person lets out a hysterical laugh—almost like she’s gone crazy. "you think this is a joke? was it a joke when you make every single day a living hell for me?" she asked but you remained silent, "now you wanna act like a scared little girl? don't you think its time to get what you deserve?" she asks.

the amount of people you’ve been a bitch too, its hard to guess who this person was. the fact that this persons voice was low and raspy to the point where you couldn’t even identify who’s voice this is didn’t help you either.

"i think we should play a game. i’d advice you listen, if you want to live that is." you can hear her smiling through the phone.

your heart is racing now, you have a gut feeling that this person is in the big ass house somewhere and that promise of her killing you is haunting you.

"fine. what's this game?" you try to put on that tough façade, still holding onto your pride.

"go upstairs. into your room." she commands you and you hate it but all you can do now is obey her words.

you grip your phone tighter and walk up the stairs—just like she said. you walk into your room. your pink led illuminated the room.

"good girl~ now, strip." her praise breaks the silence.

"what?" you whispered in disbelief.

"you heard me, don't make me do it for you."

you sigh, you really aren't sure why she wants you to strip for her. maybe to humiliate you on the internet on something but you comply to her demand, untying your robe and letting it drop to the floor. you stand, praying that’s all she meant when she said strip.

"do you not know what strip mean, bitch?" she questions, noticing that you're just standing there.

you stay silent, tears were beginning to form in your eyes and you let out a whimper, “why? are you some kinda sick pervert?” you demand, looking around the room.

it was silent for a while, it was like she hung up the phone on you. your heart was racing, you were getting anxious, “hello! where are you!? who are you!?” you cry out.

as soon as you asked that your closet door opened, revealing a figure dressed up like ghostface charging right at you. you let out a loud scream, backing up into the wall but the figure used that to her advantage, her long hands engulfed your neck, pushing your head into the wall and tightening the grip, forcing a strangled whine to fall from your mouth as you gasp for air desperately.

tears began to fall from your cheeks, your hands came up to hold her wrists before hitting them, desperately trying to pry them off your neck. she swiftly slapped you right across your face and manhandled your frail body on your bed, choked whines coming from you in the process.

“you look so cute like this, crying and at my mercy.” her tall body straddled yours, under her coat and her skirt, you can feel her bulge on your tummy. no way she’s hard from this.

if you were gonna die like this you might as well see who this sicko is, you removed your hands from the hands that were on your neck and you reached up to the ghost mask, removing it from their head. your eyes widen when you realized who it was. wonyoung.

her soulless eyes looked down at yours, a smile slowly found its way onto her face which made shivers run down your spine. she removed her grip on your neck, but still remained ontop of you.

you inhaled air almost immediately, trying to catch your breath before you can question the girl. but before you could even speak, she held a butcher knife right under your chin, “don’t scream or move.” she spoke menacingly.

“since you can’t seem to follow orders i’ll force you to,” she sighs. she starts to slowly move her knife down to your shaking body. the metal causing goosebumps to awake on your body. she trailed down until she got to your bra, she easily sliced it in half with her knife. “hey! i just bought this!” you spat, your first time wearing this set and it’s already ruined? this really isn’t your night.

“shut up, whore.” she’s quick to bring the knife back to your neck, pressing down on it but not enough to draw blood.

your bottom lips quivers which makes her coo before she gets off your tummy and flips your body over. you yelp in surprise with how easy she’s moving your body.

before you can complain she’s pushing your head into the sheets and placing the palm of her hand to your back, forcing you to arch your ass up in the air. to position muffled anything that you might’ve said and you felt your heart drop when you feel her bulge prodding against your ass.

wonyoung slices your panties as well before placing the knife in her mask. she pulls her boxers down along with her miniskirt. she giggles as she hovers over you of you, large hands pinning yours to the bed before she leans into your ear with a wicked grin.

“i’m going to make you scream.”

“w-wait!” you quickly retort squirming under her iron grip.

she wastes no time before she pushes her cock deep inside your virgin cunt.

it was like the wind got knocked out of you. you can't even make a sound, all you can concentrate on is the burn on your hole being stretched out. she had just pushed in and her cock is already kissing at your cervix, just how big is this girls cock?

wonyoung harshly gripped your hips and pulled out until her cock head was the only length left inside you before violently thrusting forward, letting out a long groan at the satisfaction. her hands left your back to grab your wrists to hold them behind your back, and forcefully yanking you back down onto her cock. she wasn't letting you get out of this anytime soon.

she was using your body like you were her human sized sex doll. drool was running down your chin and down to the valley of your tits and your eyes were crossed over, "for someone that hasn't taken a real dick before--you take it like a cock drunk whore." wonyoung muttered loud enough for you to hear. if you hadn't been too busy cryin' n moanin' on her dick, you would've made a snarky comeback.

she's never heard your voice become this high-pitched but she wasn't complaining, "s-so big! y-you're gonna break me!!" you whined through your tears.

"and you're gonna keep taking it all in your little cunt. even after i impregnate you." wonyoung quickly agreed to your statement, shooting three spurts of cum into your cunt.

you thought she'd be done but her hips never stopped smacking into yours, instead, she flipped you over into missionary. she swiftly picked up your left leg, placing it on her shoulder to reach a deep angle.

she continued to drill into your cum-stuffed pussy, her cock heavily throbbing inside you due to just seeing the lewd sight below her, "like being fucked by a killer, gonna cum all over me?"

"uh-huhh~" your eyes rolled back and your body began to shake. she took one of you tits that's bouncing with her thrust into your mouth, earning a loud moan from you. you suddenly felt a little funny, almost like you had to pee? your body soon went limp before you let out a whiny moan, squirting all over her dick and pelvis.

"at first i was just gonna fuck you and then kill her." she pulls out of your sloppy pussy and grabbed her knife. you flinch at these words, a bit terrified of what was gonna happen next, "but i think i'll make you my cute cock sleeve."

#♡.wonyoung #♡.ive #ive x fem reader #ive wonyoung smut #wlw smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #ive smut #kpop smut #g!p

857 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 2 years ago

Text

one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.

in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.

disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.

desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.

in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?

we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.

except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?

and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.

to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."

this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.

in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.

the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.

and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.

some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.

the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.

we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?

"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.

there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.

#does this make sense #to do be deleted probably yikes #(takes a swing at a wasp's nest)#like i think ppl have started to just be really quiet when they like something 'problematic'#and im like... u can be like -#girl tswift NEEDS to just TAKE A BUS . LIKE?????????????????????#while also being like.#''she's a lot of fun''#if ur personal policy is that u don't support her for that reason that's great #but it's like. eating meat???#like yeah some people won't bc the environment. but the fact i eat meat doesn't mean i hate the earth #like i can say that i think the meat industry is HORRIFIC and also downright cruel to its employees #but like. still enjoy a chicken nugget....#there are people who choose otherwise. it's okay . we are people. i make like no money. u probably don't either #us fighting about whether or not it's Right To Eat The Chicken Tender just distracts from like.#actually turning your ire on the corporation #i hope it's clear what i'm saying here is like. when we fight each other for Purity Reasons #we are just doing the work of corporations . for free. like they WANT us to be doing this lol #it's the fucking DREAM of the upperclass that now ALL forms of responsibility fall on the individual

5K notes · View notes

box-in-a-cage · 3 months ago

Text

There is not virtue in getting scammed. There is not virtue in being a mark. You are not displaying your virtuous nature by giving money to someone who is lying to you via emotional appeals so that you will open your heart and bank account to that poor downtrodden Nigerian prince. All you are doing is showing fellow zealots that you are also utterly devoted to The Cause, and showing other ill-intenders that they too can get you to cough up money with the right words.

You are not obligated to #GetScammed4Palestine. Getting scammed is not activism. You are not bettering anyone's lives except for the ill-intending agents who want your money to do something secret and untoward.

You wanna help Palestinians? Donate to real, honest, accredited aid organizations and charities. Ones that did not have employees taking part in the atrocities on October 7th. If you're in the USA, campaign for Kamala Harris as a means of harm reduction toward Palestine. Giving your money to some random person who is in one of the twenty countries that GoFundMe operates in (NOT someone in Palestine!!!) does nothing but cost you money and GUARANTEE that your money does not reach Palestinians in need.

We have our issues with the phrase "virtue signaling," as it's often a condescending right-wing buzzword, but that's what this whole Gaza-scam Zeitgeist honestly is-- taking action first and foremost in furtherance of upholding our standing as a good activist. You feel obligated to circulate, to give to, false crowdfunding operations that empirically, evidently, cannot be for the cause you are supposedly contributing to. You feel that you will be ostracized by your peers if you question these fundraising asks you're getting in your inbox. You'll be a bad activist if you don't do everything you can to help Palestinians-- yes, including possibly sharing a few scams! Sharing just a few scams is a small price to pay for circulating what surely are mostly honest accounts of real need, right? After all, you really think someone would do that? Just go on GoFundMe and tell lies? It's never ever happened on Tumblr before.

Do not give your money to randoms on the internet. You do not know who they are. The people who supposedly "verify" these fundraisers are also random people you do not know. You know that the site they are using to crowdfund does not service people in Palestine. The only evidence you do have around this whole thing is evidence that these GoFundMe's are lying to get your money. Believe the evidence and stop giving in to (what seems to you as well-intended) peer pressure from your activist friends.

If anyone takes issue with you wanting to know where your money is going, then they are showing that they want you to be taken advantage of. They want you to listen blindly! Sight-unseen! Listen to your self-preservation instincts, take notice of the red flags in front of you, and prioritize your own well-being. Drop manipulative people from your life.

Your principles are being used against you for no benefit to Palestinians, and you are in a cult. You have to start taking care of yourselves and stop endlessly sacrificing yourselves for no real value in the name of a cause that you are not benefiting.

#contributed #i'm really angry about this #PRIORITIZE YOURSELVES.#about scammers #long post

262 notes · View notes

happeehippie · 3 months ago

Text

Paper Rings. || Joe Burrow

*The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met. Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet.*

When Ja’marr Invited me to the Super Bowl after party I was not expecting the level of commitment they had given to celebrating. I don’t think there is a single person in this room other than me that’s sober. I’ve been hiding away in this corner hoping that J will have forgotten I’m here, and for a while it works. Once he spots me I have no way out. He’s coming over with a goofy grin on his face followed by what looks to be his buddy Joe. In all the years that Ja’marr and I have been friends I haven’t actually met Joe. Until tonight I guess.

“What are you doing over here?” Ja’marr asks, pulling me into his side and looking expectantly for my answer.

“I’m just enjoying the festivities..in private.”

“I have someone I want you to meet.” He turns around waving for Joe, who had got caught up by someone in the crowd, to come over.

“Joe this is my best friend from back home, y/n. Y/N this is my buddy Joe Burrow.” Joe holds his hand out and I take it giving a slight shake.

“Joe Burrow? I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.” I say sarcastically in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well I’ve been waiting for this for a while. Chase talks about you all the time. It’s nice to put a face to the stories.” He says, the nervousness still evident in his voice.

“J likes to keep me hidden away from all of his friends. He thinks they’re gonna fall in love with me or something.” Joe’s grin reaches all the way to the corner of his eyes and he glances sideways to see J just staring off into space.

“I guess it’s a good thing he’s too high to understand what’s happening right now.”

“Looks like everyone is.”

We talked for a while longer before he got swept away, and maybe it’s the contact high from all the weed but I went home and read everything I could find on the internet about Joe.

*The wine is cold like the shoulder that I gave you in the street. Cat and mouse for a month or two or three.*

Why do people think inviting single people to weddings is a cool idea? I’ve been sitting at this bar for 20 minutes waiting on my glass of wine, which isn’t free by the way. The only reason I agreed to come to this silly thing is because the bride is the only friend I’ve made since Ja’marr convinced me to move to Cincinnati two months ago. Weddings suck. I’m so immersed in my thoughts that I don’t even notice when someone slips into the seat beside me. My eyes grew wide as I glanced over to find a familiar mop of brown hair.

“Be honest, are you stalking me?” He asks playfully. If he’s been at this thing the whole time I definitely didn’t see him.

“Why would I stalk some meat head football player? I mean you’re not even rich.” I spit back playfully.

“Okay, you got me there. What are you drinking tonight?”

“I’ve been waiting on a glass of wine, I think he forgot about me.” I fake pout.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.” He waves down the bartender (who momentarily fanboys) and asks for two glasses of white wine, we have drinks within seconds.

“Oh the perks of being QB1.” A blush creeps onto my cheeks as he examines my face.

“I’m sensing you’ve got a problem with meat head football players.”

“Only the kind who get special treatment.” I pick up my purse and take out some cash to pay for the wine but he immediately pushes it back towards me.

“Let me.”

“I don’t need any charity Joe. I can pay for my own drink thanks.” I go to slide the cash onto the counter again but he stops me for the second time. “How about you just let me get the drink and you can pay me back?”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” I question suspiciously.

“Let me take you on a date?” His eyes are hopeful and they aren’t looking away from mine. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. I stand up placing the cash on the bar in front of him before leaning down to whisper in his ear,

“Like I said, I don’t need any charity from you.” With that I turn on my hell and walk out the door. I hate weddings.

A few hours later I receive a texts that says:

I need the charity, go on a date with me?

I hate to admit it but I thought about Joe for the rest of the night. It only took him two months of texts and well timed “visits” to J’s until I finally said yes.

I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings. Uh-huh, that’s right. Darling, you’re the one I want.

Okay, so maybe I underestimated what it would be like to date the most famous quarterback in the NFL. My self-esteem has taken some major blows over the last year and with another season of football looming around the corner I don’t know if I can take it anymore. Fans are not thrilled to see Joe dating a normal “average looking” woman. Every time I show up to a game and they put me on that damned jumbotron there are clips of me circulating for a week until a new one comes about, the entire world just picking me apart. Which is why I have been strategically avoiding Joe’s questions about whether I will be attending his first preseason game tomorrow. Until now that is..

“Okay, talk to me.” Joe says, staring directly into my eyes as we sit across from each other at the kitchen counter.

“Talk to you about what?” I laugh nervously and start to fidget with a leftover piece of paper from crafts with his nephew yesterday.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? Why aren’t you answering my questions about the game? And why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” He says matter of factly, taking the paper out of my hands and messing with it himself.

“It’s nothing.” I mumble looking anywhere but at his face.

“Y/N.. if you don’t tell me what is going on, I’m asking J.” No way he just pulled the Ja’marr card. Who told me it was a good idea to date my best friends.. other best friend.

“Fine.. I just.. your fans don’t really like me Joey. I don’t know if I want to subject myself to the same torture I went through last season.” He sets the paper aside and pulls my hands to his mouth. Letting his kiss linger on my knuckle for a few quiet moments as he thinks about how to respond.

“I don’t care,” he looks me right in the eyes, “I don’t care what they say, or what they think they know about our relationship. You’re my girl. You’re the one that I want. Nobody is going to change my mind, don’t let them get in your head.” I can’t help the love and appreciation that seeps through me, I pick up the small piece of paper that he had formed into a ring while we were talking and focus on it for few moments to collect my emotions, he laughs and takes it from my hand before walking around to my chair.. “I love you, and it’s not because of what other people do or don’t think of you, it’s because you’re you. And because even if the only thing I had to give you was this little paper ring you’d still love me back. That’s what’s important to me. Not all that bullshit on the internet and in the tabloids.” I laugh as he slides the ring on my left hand and wipes a tear from the corner of my eye.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say at one time.”

“What can I say, you’re worth getting passionate about.” I stand up and pull him close, leaning up to kiss him.

“I guess I better find me a game day fit,” He smiles before laying another peck on my lips, “I love you too, Joey. Just so you know.”

“I know.”

#joe burrow #nfl #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader

257 notes · View notes

houseofanticipation · 8 months ago

Text

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

#CW dissociation #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #breeding toy #r@petoy #r@pe kink #Library 🜞

563 notes · View notes

gamblersdoll · 1 month ago

Text

𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑵’ 𝒀𝑶𝑼!

𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒎 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇.. 𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉?

cam-girl! reader, heavy themes of stalking, masturbation (f and m)sukuna finds reader, demonic possession, anal, double stuffing, oral, fingering, restraint. not proof read!

“alright babies, what nasty little requests do you have for me tonight?” your upbeat voice sends a wave of pleasure of the men, women and thembos that watched your pornographic stream. you read some of the comments, and it makes you chuckle. “no, i dont have a partner.”

some questions you pretend you dont see, either it being borderline obvious a troll or some are just.. actually disgusting.

but one stood out to you, some weird name that you hadnt seen before. you briefly check the user, something of old japanese that you really didnt understand— the user was paying at least fifteen hundred a month for a subscription.

shit, fuck it, we ball.

“i have a proposal, you do a consensual non consent video with someone. what do you think?” you read aloud, a smirk on your face and giggle. “that would depend on who would do it with me.”

some comments explode, the idea being a mixed message and some find it weird. some find it a little hot, and some comments were actually just stupid. you can see who types, who deletes, and who likes. the comments slow a bit, the older japanese user still typing.

‘maōyōkai’: i mean, i would adore doing something like that with you. especially with how tiny and small your body is.

it makes you bite your lip, the thought of this hidden person touching you? maybe it was wrong, getting your pussy wet and throbbing over a stranger off the fucking internet.. but its the internet, not a coworker.

you untie your top, letting your breast fall and nipples immediately hardening at the cool air hitting against the nerve endings. you watch how many people lose their minds over some tits.. they were merely tits. but you bring your knees to your chest, spreading your legs apart and showing how your panties merely cover your clit and folds.

‘maōyōkai’: take it off, be good for me.

you lick your lips, peeling your panties off and spreading yourself open again. your clit twitches a bit, arousal pulsing through you. your fingers slip down to your folds and spread them open, your entrance blowing a small kiss..

‘maōyōkai’: just ready for some cock, arent you?

you nod, “indeed.” and put your fingers inside your mouth, showing the camera your tongue swirling around your fingers, slipping your fingers inside of your cunny. you moan, curling your fingers up and dramatically rolling your eyes back.

not really focusing on the comments, but thinking about this mysterious man behind the screen ravaging into your walls. what could he look like? how talk were he? was he handsome? you didnt know, but you needed to find out. you didnt think right now, though. all you worried about was how good everything felt.

you push your breast up, taking a nipple into your mouth and grinding your fingers into your gspot. it feels so good, being able to let go and forget the actual life that you have outside of porn.

‘maōyōkai’: ask for permission to cum, you want to be my good girl dont you?

and that did set a few comments off, saying ‘she doesnt need permission to orgasm!’ or ‘come on man, youre going to make it longer for others to cum.’ but maōyōkai didnt care. this wasnt about them, it was about getting you to orgasm and for him to orgasm. you nod, pressing deeper. “can i cum?”

he agrees, calling you his good girl and you fall apart infront of the camera.

however, on the other end of the screen.. lies a monster, a demon that’s pretending to be a man. it transforms, a tall nine foot man with many tattoos on the demon. red eyes stare into the screen, if looks could kill, the screen would be dead.

he chuckles, watching the small girl— you, pants and recollect yourself and bid farewell’s to your followers, his eyes flickering to the “live ended.”

after a day of no live, you finally do go live, again. only because you needed some extra money for your birthday. the comments flood of course, but your secret admirer joins as well.

something weird? he joins as soon as you tap the ‘go live’ button.

“i am hosting a little event for now! if anyone can guess my favorite lucky number, they get a private dm, access to ten videos and five photos, and a discount of thirty percent off for the rest of the year!” you beam, the numbers starting to flood. “no, that’s incorrect, sorry!”

‘maōyōkai’: these people are so off and wrong. the demon says through the screen, having to say it in a new era way to make himself believable.

“oh? then what is it?” you ask, crossing your legs and drinking the red liquid that hits your sultry lips. “youre so confident.”

maōyōkai: its literally just seven. or triple seven.

you become intrigued, hands rising to clap an applause for him and you smile. “correct, after the live, ill dm you!” you chuckle, seeing some disappointed comments and then ending the live.

after about ten minutes, you message the mysterious man that guess correctly. you send a simple ‘hello,’ and he’s already typing away.

‘maōyōkai’: hello, gorgeous.

you bite your nail, adjusting his subscription amount and meanwhile collecting the photos and videos that were promised. you click ‘send,’ waiting on the three dots and then read.

‘maōyōkai’: god, you really are a tiny thing. i would swallow you whole.

it throws you off, swallow you whole?

he types again, inquiring a question.

‘maōyōkai’: i have another proposal, how about me and you voice call, and ill help you have the best orgasm of your life.

your heart throbs, texting out an ‘okay’ to this stranger, waiting on for him to pick up the voice chat.

“helloo?” you curiously say, hearing some silence on the other end and then breathing.

“so you actually agreed.” he gruffs out, a small chuckle in the background. “did you have fun teasing me the other day?” he asks, silence still.

“teasinggg?” you pout, “i wasnt teasing you?” you say that, hand going in your shirt and tweaking with your nipple.

“you definitely are right now, with the way your pulling your nipples in an attempt to cum.” he grumbles, on the other line, him pulling one of his cocks out.

your heart skips a beat, maybe you were being too loud and he figured you out? no, he was way too specific.

“come now, dont want to keep me waiting, do you?” he asks, holding back his smirk and smile.

“how did you know i was playing with my nipples?” you ask, a eyebrow raised and with a teasing, nervous smile.

“tell you what, how about me and you, wednesday night and ill give you a good time.” he proposes, a expectant sigh on the other end.

“uhem.. thats not what i do, sorry.” you chuckle out, “i dont meet up with anyone, i believe it says that on the—“

“so you tease me, then wont do the ideas i give out, and now you’re not even going to let me fuck you?” he barks out, the atmosphere changing and you grow nervous.. scared. “what, you cant call off of work at five pm?”

your eyes widen, and your heart drops. “how do you?—“ you cut yourself off, ending the call to scramble to his account and block him. you cancel his subscription, deleting your account all together.

you toss your phone, clutching your chest and breathe deeply to calm yourself. this was too much, you couldnt have said anything too personal, right? you only said that your lucky favorite fucking number was seven!

it doesnt matter now, if he has your body photos, then youll just sue for damages and revenge porn. its okay, just go to sleep and itll all be fine.

you press the clock in button, sighing as the long hours would pass by and you just had to basically turn down your other set of income. its not like you were proud of the whole thing, with the way everything is right now? who the fuck cares.

customers were a pain in the ass, the way they spoke and reeked of entitlement always irritated you. you were a simple coffee and bake shop, but the question of who the fuck gets coffee at ten at night?

you sit in the break room, a coworker coming up to you and begging and pleading.

“pleaaaseee take this customer, i really have to pee!” yayorozu says, thanking you when you sigh and get up. you just clocked in, and shes already on your nerves.

“hi, how can i help—“ you pause, looking at the nine foot tall man and swallowing thick air. “how can i help you..?” you ask, deja vu running through your veins.

“so this is what you do actually.” he mumbles, red eyes staring into you and two sets of arms fold together. he chuckles when he sees your face going pale, and he clicks his tongue. “shouldnt had left me so suddenly like that.”

“i’m sorry, what are you talking about?” you ask, pretending to not know what hes saying. he tilts his head slightly, signaling you to look behind you and seeing the white and red haired individual come out of the break room.

“shes gone, so you are alone, master sukuna.”

“sukuna?” you ask, looking back to the man who towered over you, fear starting to flush inside of you.

“that is my name, little one.” he says, “but you might know me as maōyōkia.” he watches your face flush, you feel like you could vomit. “and would you look at that, its wednesday.”

you drop everything, attempting to run but the demon grabs ahold of you. “let me go!” you squeal, feeling his hands on your breasts and holding you in his arms as his belly mouth licks at your exposed stomach.

“ah ah, dont run now, tiny human.” he says, whispering your ear. “this isnt going to be the end, not at all.”

“w-what do you want? what are you?!”

“im a demon, you should have seen that coming.” he pats your head, feigning as if he was trying to console you. “and quite frankly, demons can take whoever they find as a best fit for them.”

“yeah, bullshit!” you scream, earning a disapproving look. “youre a fucking stalker, you asshat!”

“im a stalker now?” he asks, smirking with an evil grin. “were you saying that when you barely knew me and you thought about me being balls deep inside?” he recalls, the hand he had going up your skirt.

you blink once, twice, three times.. was that even you?

“no, it wasnt. i was only having you act and think your most carnal desire.” he answered for you, your heart dropped. “you mustn’t know much about demons, do you?”

you shook your head no.

“i can have you do whatever i wanted if i did, i could make you suck me off, if i truly desired to.” he confirmed, his fingers slipping inside of you. “do you like that im practically inside of you?”

you pant a bit, feeling like it was a crime committed for having such a demon on the verge of ruining you. “i..” you try to lie, but there were no point. “i do.”

he cackles for a second, turning your rear end towards his stomach and it laps up at your sopping cunt. “thats the spirit! knew you were a good girl at heart!”

you moan in surprise, the belly mouths’ tongue slipping its way into your walls and pressing against your cervix. you squirm, the feeling being all too new for you and you whine. “s—sukuna!”

“its good to know that im not controlling this.” he notes for you, pulling your hair back and looking into your eyes. “the mouth has a mind of its own, so you might want to play nice.”

you nod, the demons’ belly devouring each flavor and scent until you were creaming on its taste buds, and the flavor being stuck on its tongue forever. your legs shake a bit, his arms holding you up and resting against the bakery counter.

“you must be all prepared and ready to go, girl.” he says in your ear, him pressing down on your lower stomach just a tad as he slips himself inside. “and ill be gentle with this one, too.” he coos, slipping his secondary cock inside of your back door.

“wait—“

“it doesnt matter if you ‘cleaned’ or not, im not going to care what state its in.” he grins, a cheshire smile on his face as he pulls your body up, then pulling it back down on his demonic cocks.

your moans reverberate throughout the bakery, sultry moans and squeals as he double stuffs you with vigor as his cock plunge in and out of your ass and cunny. “yet, you dont do meet ups, huh?” he laughs down to you, watching your eyes roll back and cross. “such a silly little human, youre going to belong to me for life!” he groans, nails digging into your skin as he slams his hips into you with vigor.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!” you cry, tears dribbling down your cheeks. you hear him growl, the growl being a echo and deep as he stills inside of your walls. you feel heat rush to your brain, the demonic semen knotting within your walls and you convulse.

“your body’s reacting so good to my semen, human.” he chuckles, beckoning the demons’ henchperson to him. “grab this woman a towel, and clothes.”

“youre coming home with me.”

#dvs haunted mansion 🧟‍♀️#true form sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x black reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ryomen x you #jujutsu ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen

263 notes · View notes

theconstitutionisgayculture · 3 months ago

Text

Indefinite hiatus

I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.

Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.

Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.

Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.

I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.

To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.

I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.

And that's all I've got to say for now.

198 notes · View notes

aettuddae · 2 months ago

Text

business matter — chapter 118.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

karina wandered among the people trying to find her friends, she didn't know exactly where they were because the place they had positioned themselves was at the center of the dance floor where all the people were crowded together. she asked for permission and passed between strangers, but realized she was circling the place to no avail, she assumed they would have gone to sit at their table so she started moving in that direction. she proceeded to keep running groupings of the path, finally emerging from the crowd and being spit out to a clear passage on the side, left so that they people could walk through.

she examined both sides, trying to mentally locate herself in the club and guessing where her table was based on her location. she made her way to the left slowly so she could watch carefully to find her friends.

"jimin." she heard at the same time someone tapped her shoulder.

she had clearly done things wrong as she was paying for her karma. the universe kept sending her challenges as if she was odysseus himself, the only difference was that she didn't have the will nor the motivation to overcome them and just wanted to disappear before she had to solve a worse problem.

"jimin." repeated that voice that, unfortunately, she couldn't mistake for any other.

she spun on her heels, her face serious, she wouldn't even dare to give him a surprised reaction because he didn't deserve any emotion related to good things.

"do you need something, kim jongin?" her stance was rigid, facing him ready to defend herself or attack him for anything he had to say.

"to apologize." the boy had a droopy attitude, he wanted to sound honest.

"that's very empathetic of you, but i don't need your apology." she was going to keep walking, but he grabbed her shoulder again to make her look at him.

"i'm really sorry for how it all ended." he continued. "i acted like an idiot, i didn't understand you." he admitted doing his best to look like a wet dog.

"whatever you say, bye." again she was stopped by the boy as she wanted to run away. "jongin, i don't care what you have to say."

"listen, i know i was wrong, that i was selfish." he held her from both sides to keep her from trying to walk away from the conversation. "but i want to show you that i can be better."

"jongin-" she pinched the bridge of her nose as if to help her stay calm, but as the boy's words sank in she looked at him abruptly. "what do you mean by that?"

"that i'm sorry for not knowing how to act at the time, but i want to make amends." explained with tenderness in his eyes. "if you want too, i want to try again." he clarified.

karina paused for a second, completely stunned, it seemed that the music had faded and people were no longer dancing. she inspected the man's features looking for a hint of honesty in them, she wanted to decipher if he really believed in what he was saying,

because if he did then he was the most disgusting person she had ever met.

"jongin, are you an idiot?" she removed his hands from her body roughly. "no, in fact, do you think i'm an idiot?" she pressed her own chest with her index finger pointing at herself. "that you can find me by chance at a party, put on an innocent face, say three stupid things you read on the internet and get me back?"

"things aren't the way you think they are." he denied with a sad expression. "i really miss you."

"why are you doing this?"

"because-"

"did sehun leave you?"

kai was silent, paralyzed, wondering how the woman had figured that out, going over in his mind all the people who could have told her.

"see how stupid you are?" the girl reaffirmed.

"how do you know about sehun?" he asked dumbfounded.

"i saw it." she clarified, feeling a little embarrassed as she remembered her tactics.

"you saw us?" the boy was surprised, afraid of what they might have been doing when they were discovered.

"i saw your chats." she elaborated.

"you went through my phone!" now jongin was angry, it showed on his face and in his voice, he wouldn't in his most jealous moment have done that.

"i didn't check your phone, jackass, your chats were open on your computer!" she revealed, flustered at the oldest's accusations.

"how long have you known?" he cocked his head to the side, the times and jimin's actions didn't make sense no matter how hard he tried to combine them. "were you with me for these last few months even knowing?" there was some hint of hope in that question, as if it meant she could forgive him.

"i would never be consciously cuckolded, i found out when we broke up." she didn't think much about her words because of the repulsion to the idea that he would think she would let herself be played that way.

"were you at my house after we broke up?" the volumes of jongin's voice rose brutally. "are you crazy?"

"i wanted to give you back your clothes and you weren't there!" she defended herself.

"so you broke into someone else's house without permission?" he rebutted.

"hey, don't change the subject, you cheated on me!" karina reminded.

"you crashed my house!" kim was totally offended at this new information he was getting.

"you were with someone else for seventy percent of our relationship!" she was annoyed at the lack of interest the boy was showing in the subject.

"you committed a crime!"

"damn, come on, jongin, i don't think it's a crime if i have your door code and we were boyfriend and girlfriend, i need you to use your brain." yu tapped his temple lightly signaling him to think.

"don't do that!" he grabbed the girl's wrist away from her body and directed her downward, roughly.

"hey!" exclaimed jimin, it hadn't hurt, but she was shocked by the action.

she was ready to complain and now add this to her list of things to fight about, but was distracted from further yelling when someone stepped between the two of them.

"leave her alone." between kai and karina was now serim, who calmly tried to push the boy away without using much force.

"great, my favorite person." said jongin wryly.

"the appreciation is mutual." she flashed him a smile with the same energy.

"this isn't about you, so i'm going to ask you to leave." jongin tried to run her off, but serim wouldn't let her.

"i don't think you have anything to talk about." dismissed the girl. "so you'd better get on with your life, okay?"

serim brought her hand to karina's back and rested it there to guide her in the opposite direction of the man. feeling the contact, the younger one wrapped her arms around her body, clinging to her. she just wanted to feel her once again, to breathe in her scent, but if she complained she'd say it was to get jongin to stop bothering.

"listen, you." jongin addressed jang with an annoyed tone. "you have already intervened too much in my relationship, stop meddling in matters that don't concern you." he demanded with a defiant tone.

"i think you're the one who's out of line now." the newcomer contradicted. "go away."

"no, you should go." he refused to listen. "i am settling some stuff with my girl, you have no business here." he was impatient.

"you cheated on me!" exclaimed karina, tired of saying it.

"she's my girl." serim stated at the same time.

"i'm your girl?" the younger girl turned to look at her perplexed.

"shut up, this isn't the time." jang ignored her.

"but this is about me!" complained jimin.

"is it because of her that you're doing this whole circus?" jongin accused the blackhaired one. "you want to feel less guilty about falling in love with her when you were with me." he assumed.

"what are you talking about? you had a whole boyfriend behind my back!" at that point karina really thought jongin must be hallucinating.

"why can't you admit that you cheated on me?" the boy questioned.

"but you were on a break." interrupted serim, lifting her index finger in the air pointing out her fact.

"and you were cheating on me!" shouted jimin in despair.

"so did you!" replied the man. "and besides you're all over her right now in front of me!" he grabbed serim's arm jerking from it, as if trying to pull her toward him to get her away from yu's grip.

"don't touch her!" a new voice joined the argument. "can you stop? i know you're still dating sehun." it was kyungsoo, helping her friend.

"but look who it is." announced kim when he saw the boy. "did you have something to do with all this?"

"no, this is your fault and your fault alone." now the one speaking was jennie. "you have a history of being a cheater, don't play dumb." he didn't know what to say seeing his other ex-girlfriend there.

"and i just don't like you." sejeong joined all her friends who had gone to accompany serim.

"thank you." muttered jimin to the new one since she was the closest one.

"i kind of dislike you too." she informed, causing karina to nod in understanding and fall silent.

"i heard we were terrorizing kim jongin so i came." one more person appeared.

"ryujin." spoke the attacked one.

"i hate you." she made clear. "go away and leave my friend alone for once." she proposed. "if you are not together today, it's because you handled a difficult situation selfishly, and also cheated on her." she reminisced. "you don't want to put yourself in the victim's place, this is your fault."

"leave her alone already." jennie took the lead again. "weren't you gay?"

"i'm bisexual." he put a hand to his chest in offense.

"stop hurting karina." the other man interfered. "and please don't start hurting sehun." he advised.

"it's over between us, jongin, it's over." finished karina.

the boy paused to look at them all with annoyance, but quickly realized that this was a war he would not win. he lowered his head in frustration and left without another word.

"thanks guys." expressed serim to everyone once he was away.

"thanks for that, i thought you guys hated me." said karina.

"we don't like you, but we like jongin less." expressed ryujin.

"ryujin." her best friend gave her a puzzled look.

"i'm just being everyone's voice." proclaimed the named one exalted.

"i can't believe i was with that guy for so long." the girl was still attached to serim's body as the older one, focused on the discussion, hardly noticed that karina was hugging her and hadn't pushed her away, so she took advantage of the closeness to rest her head on her shoulder seeking comfort. "it's the worst thing in the world."

"sure, yes, i agree." serim raised her hands in the air to indicate that she wasn't reciprocating her so she should also pull away.

"let her go." sejeong tapped yu on the shoulder to make her understand that she was talking to her. "let her go." she said again, now tugging on her waist.

"stop it, jimin." now commanded her best friend, to whom she did listen. "you better go do that outside." she ran to the side, clearing the way for them to pass.

"what?" serim was astonished.

"jimin needs calm, go with her, you were the one who was there for her all through the jongin situation anyway." she suggested, leading them outside.

"what about you?" she looked at shin confused.

"i can't, i have a cold." she pretended to cough.

led by a force by the name of ryujin, karina and serim ended up alone in the club's courtyard where people went to smoke.

"what are you doing?" jang's friends questioned her.

"you don't understand." she hedged upset. "i have a manhwa to update."

outside, jimin and serim stood in silence, separated by a significant distance from each other. neither could find anything that wasn't awkward to say, and maybe serim didn't even want to, this one pulled out the box of cigarettes she had in her pocket and lit one, starting to smoke it.

"namu." called the younger one.

"don't call me that." she reminded her.

"semmie?" she tested.

"only my friends call me semmie." she was right, she had never earned the place of a friend.

"serim."

"that's my name." the addressed stated sarcastically.

"i didn't know you'd be here tonight." she clarified. "sorry if you came to distract yourself and i showed up."

"that's okay, i didn't think you came on purpose." they both nodded, closing the subject.

"and thanks for helping me with jongin." she added.

"it's no problem." jang brushed off. "you know i can't stand him." she laughed softly.

"thank you anyway." she restated. "and about that thing about me being your girl..." mentioned with a playful tone.

"i just wanted to make him mad." she cut her off quickly. "don't get excited."

"i already got excited, now don't try to stop me." karina joked. "do you usually refer to a lot of strangers as 'your girl' or is it just me?"

"what are you talking about?" serim raised an eyebrow, lost.

"it's good to see you again, jang serim-ssi." she gave a barely noticeable bow with her body.

"ah, you're still at it?" took a puff on her cigarette. "i remember telling you not to bother me, though."

"one thing you should know about me is that i'm very stubborn." jimin had switched to using a flirtatious tone. "and i tend to get my way." she tilted her head to the side, a leaned smile painted on her lips.

"why do i get the feeling i already knew that?" she corresponded the game.

"how strange." the youngest feigned disinterest. "we must be connected."

"or you look a little crazy." she held up her hand, demonstrating with it the word little.

karina let her mouth open indignantly at the response, then let out an almost soundless laugh and averted her gaze to the front. "can i confess something to you?"

"as yu jimin-ssi or as the girl who used to live in my apartment?" she flicked the cigarette butt she had left.

"from jimin to namu." she replied, serim motioned with her head for her to continue talking. "i almost kissed a girl today." she suddenly shared.

serim kept silent, she furrowed her eyebrows, easy to tell she was thinking about how she should react to that confession, she brought her tongue to the side and pressed it against the inside of her cheek, stifling the opinions that formed in her brain that impulsively attempted to come out. she swallowed saliva, gave a long sigh, it was requiring all of her to keep calm.

"i don't want to listen to this." she decided, turning around to go back inside with her friends.

"namu." jimin managed to catch her jacket and hold her in place. "nothing happened with her." she made clear.

"then why are you telling me?" the woman was starting to get agitated, not being able to hide that it hurt.

"nothing happened because of you." she explained, moving her grip up to her chest where with each hand she grabbed both sides of the zipper of the jacket serim was wearing.

"i don't know what you mean." she felt her eyes getting wet. "if you're telling me this to hurt me..."

"serim, i don't want to hurt you anymore." she stated. "i don't want to cause you or me any more pain." assured, feeling her emotions welling up. "i'm telling you this since i didn't want to kiss her because i couldn't stop thinking about you, so you can see that i don't want to and can't be with anyone but you." the girl confessed. "namu." now she held her face gently. "my namu." she looked into those eyes she loved so much, which now looked sad, on the verge of breaking. "i know that i should have treated you better, do you think we can start again?"

serim wondered if jimin might be lying.

she had hidden things and avoided her feelings, but would she lie to her? after neglecting her heart, would she lie to do it again? serim wanted to give herself to karina, there wasn't a single fiber of her body that didn't want to belong to her, or that didn't already claim to be hers,

but you are what you did, and what did her actions make of jimin? if she was a coward, it was nothing that couldn't be solved with a spontaneous burst of courage. was that what was going on? was this question her finally plucking up courage, was she finally fighting for her like she wanted her to?

and if so, should serim trust her again?

"i've had too much of you already." she whispered, almost inaudibly. "it scares me that you're not being honest and that you will ruin me again." she completed. "i don't know if you deserve another chance." she sentenced and then walked back inside, losing herself in the crowd the further she went.

(!)

— taglist [CLOSED]: @yoontoonwhs @cwpiqwon @aliceiwk @xen248 @gtfoiydlyj @rinapomu @aeriuchinarga @multiliker @somedaydream @impossiblesharkcashrebel @yjiminswallet @nwjnsloona @yerimbrit @73vyn @dni-unavailable @yizhuobberi @sewiouslyz @yeetaberry127 @masuowo @yallatalla @aerithykly @chaenniefirst @minfolio @starrynini05 @hotluvlet @wmnrhot @mineige @lisaswifey @brocoliisscared @fae-the-wanderer

235 notes · View notes

yanderecrazysie · 7 months ago

Text

Begonia (Yandere Leona)

Part 1 of the Flower Language Series

I got these meanings from the internet, so some may be wrong. Sorry if that is the case, but please ignore my mistakes.

Please do not request the Flower Language Series.

Title: Begonia

Pairings: Leona Kingscholar x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Flower meaning: Beware

Summary: Leona has always scared you. Turns out, that was for a good reason.

To be honest, all of the dorm heads intimidated you.

Riddle, as you had come to know through Deuce and Ace, was probably the strictest person you had ever met. He had hundreds of rules, most of which were oddly specific, and he collared anyone who broke them, making them lose their magic until he saw fit.

Even as someone with no magic to your name, it still scared you.

Azul was a scheming bastard, tricking people into making contracts that put them at a severe disadvantage, then stealing something from them when they inevitably failed.

Then, there was the floating tablet. The device was supposedly controlled by a housewarden back in his dorm, but it was strange enough to creep you out a little.

Malleus was absolutely terrifying, with his horns that looked like they could skewer you and an expression on his face like he just might do that if you looked at him wrong. Plus the rumors of his power made you tremble in his presence.

Kalim and Vil, you had to admit, didn’t seem too bad from what you’d seen. You would still have to get to know them to make a final judgment.

But the one who scared you most was Leona Kingscholar.

His face was twisted into a menacing frown, his green eyes glaring at everyone around him like they personally annoyed him. He was muscular and stood at a daunting 6 feet tall. He had a scar down one eye- an injury that made you wonder how he got it.

You had to admit, he was handsome, but he also terrified you. You knew from the moment you saw him that he wasn’t someone to mess with.

—------------------------------------------------

You liked to walk through the botanical gardens. There were all kinds of beautiful trees and flowers, some the same as the ones in your homeworld, and others that you were sure were unique to the world you had found yourself in.

Your eyes moved from each plant, never looking down at your feet. Why would you, when there was so much to see and smell?

You should have looked down.

Suddenly, you pitched forward, your foot catching on something. You tried in vain to keep your balance, but you ended up on your hands and knees anyway. Your knees and palms felt like they were on fire and, when you lifted your right hand, you found that you were bleeding.

A growl sounded from behind you- one that sounded dangerously like a lion’s. Slowly, you turned your head.

Leona’s tail was lying in the walkway. The walkway you had just been walking down.

Oh my God, I tripped on his tail!

“I am so sorry!” you spluttered, standing up as quickly as possible, “I wasn’t paying attention!”

“Clearly,” Leona snarled, baring his teeth. You couldn’t help but notice that his canines ended in sharp fangs. He got to his feet and you cowered as his shadow fell over your figure. He was even taller up close.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked.

“You should be,” Leona snapped, “I was taking a nap and you disturbed my sleep.”

You trembled under his gaze. He looked down at you like a predator sizes up its prey.

The warm garden seemed to drop 50 degrees. The shadows of the tall trees seemed to stretch into the shapes of clawing hands. Your nose no longer smelled the sweet scents of the flowers.

Leona looked you up and down and a smirk spread across his lips. You didn’t know that he could smile, but somehow, it was worse than his frown.

“You’re that magicless girl with no home to go back to, aren’t you?” he asked.

You nodded meekly, then changed your mind “I do have a home to go to, the mirror just couldn’t find-” you fell silent at the glare he sent your way. A scowl that clearly told you to shut up.

Leona took a few steps forward and leaned in toward your neck. You froze, unable to move if you tried. He took a deep inhale and, finally, leaned back to look you over once again.

“I can’t smell a speck of magic on you,” he said condescendingly, “You really don’t belong here, do you?”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you stayed quiet. Leona took a step forward and you took a step back in response. Leona's predatory gaze followed your every move, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“I- I have to go,” you stuttered, mouth feeling as dry as the desert.

“I’m not stopping you,” Leona replied, his voice a deep rumble, as though he thought you were amusing.

The only problem was, you had to get past him to leave the botanical garden. You trembled from head to toe as you squeezed by him. You swore you could hear him take another sniff of you as you passed him.

You walked robotically to the exit, your mind on autopilot as you left the frightening housewarden behind. As you left, Leona called out to you one last time.

“I’ll have you make it up to me, little mouse.”

—--------------------------------------------

You didn’t return to the botanical garden after that incident. However, Leona seemed to pop up wherever you went.

You weren’t in the same classes, yet he appeared in the hallways outside each of your classrooms. He had to have been skipping class for some of these occurrences.

He didn’t do anything to you, but you knew that he was there for you by the way his green eyes locked onto your form, boring holes into the back of your head as you hurried away from him.

The first time he showed up at your dorm scared you to death.

You had just been hanging out with Deuce and Ace at the Heartslabyul dorm, goofing around while getting a small amount of homework done. Grim raced ahead of you, his small figure disappearing in the darkness before suddenly reappearing, running toward you with a worried expression on his face.

“Did you invite that Savanaclaw Housewarden over?” Grim asked hesitantly.

“What?” it felt like you had been doused with cold water, spreading down your back and making you shiver, “No, of course not! Please tell me he’s not…”

“He’s there,” Grim jumped up and down, “What are we supposed to do? Do we fight him?”

“No!” you said quickly, “We’ll just have to ask him what he wants.”

Your feet felt like lead, dread weighing you down as you headed back to Ramshackle Dorm. Sure enough, Leona Kingscholar’s himself came into sight. The intimidating lion prince stood on your doorstep, facing you and Grim as you helplessly made your way toward him.

“L-Leona,” you stuttered, your heart speeding up in fear, “What are you doing here?”

The man looked at the broken down house you lived in, “I came to see what the excitement was about your dorm. I wanted to know why Azul was so interested in getting his tentacles all over this place.”

You nodded, not really understanding what he meant, but wanting to agree with him nonetheless. You really didn’t want to upset him.

Leona looked down at you, a bored expression on his face.

There was something wrong with him, you decided. It took you a few seconds to find out just why he put you on edge so much.

It was his eyes. They were clouded with an emotion you couldn’t decipher and locked on you. The gaze was purely predatory, making you feel small and helpless compared to him.

“I really don’t see what the excitement is about,” Leona said, condescending once more, “It looks like any old shack to me.”

Grim shook a clenched paw at him, “Hey! We’re working on fixing it up! You should see the bedroom- we totally remodeled it!”

Leona gave Grim a disdainful frown, “Ah, I see you still have the raccoon with you.”

“I’m not a raccoon!” Grim yelled.

You grabbed Grim’s shoulder as he attempted to advance on Leona, shrieking, “Lemme at him! Lemme at him! We’ll see who’s a raccoon!”

To your surprise, Leona laughed. Then, as if nothing had happened, his face resumed its familiar frown. His eyes locked onto yours, the hungry gaze making you tremble in fear once more.

He didn’t say a word as he slunk away from Ramshackle dorm, merely staring you down, even as he disappeared into the darkness.

You opened the door to your dorm and you and Grim made a beeline for the bedroom. You each got in your respective beds without you even changing into your pajamas. You stared up at the ceiling, fully awake. Hours ticked by and still sleep evaded you.

Why did you still feel as if you were being watched?

—-------------------

That day you didn’t see Leona after any of your classes. It should have put you at ease, but instead it put you on edge. Had he grown bored of you?

Somehow you didn’t think that was the case.

Since it was a Friday, the teachers decided to assign a mountain of homework to do. You struggled to fit all of your textbooks in your backpack, but the struggle to carry them all was even harder.

Grim and you split ways; you deciding to get an early start on your homework while Grim went to goof off and put it off to the last minute.

You trudged all the way to Ramshackle dorm and struggled up the stairs. As soon as you had gotten to your room, you let the backpack drop, panting for breath after all the labor you had endured.

When you opened the door, time itself seemed to stop.

There, on your bed, lay Leona, a sharp-toothed smirk playing across his face. He cocked his head at you in an almost-cute way, but you weren’t deceived. Not when his heavy gaze was so predatory.

“You sure took your time getting back,” he drawled, his smirk turning sly.

You stumbled backward, “Leona? How did-”

“Ah, the perks of being a cat,” he yawned, stretching out on your bed as if he owned it, “I can easily slip in undetected.”

Dread coursed through your veins, “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to be here when you returned,” he purred.

“Stop acting like this is normal! This isn’t-”

“Normal is boring, little mouse,” Leona sighed, pushing his body into a sitting position, “You should be thankful that I’ve been guaranteeing your protection.”

“What?” you were struck dumb by his words.

“Night Raven College has its dangers,” Leona drawled, “You’re the only girl in an all boys’ school, after all.”

“I can handle myself thanks,” you said coldly.

Leona’s laugh echoed across the room, booming in your ears. Your cheeks heated up, feeling as though you were being looked down upon.

“You have no idea what could happen to you,” in a flash, Leona was right in front of you. You recoiled in shock, but one of his hands gripped your chin before you could get too far, “Someone could lock you away forever, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing.”

He leaned forward until his hot breath played across your face, “Do you understand?”

You managed to nod, knowing there was only one answer he would accept.

“Don’t worry, little mouse,” Leona purred once more, “You’re under my protection. No one would dare hurt you as long as I watch over you.”

The way Leona looked down at you made you feel like you were an insignificant, helpless little bit of prey playing right into his hands.

And to Leona, you probably were.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere leona #leona kingscholar

280 notes · View notes