#(((also i teared up one and no it was not at one of the songs that were meant to make people tear up djbdnxnx)))

[wlwsoccerfics]

A Long Road ahead (Alessia RussoXWilliamsonReader)

Warnings: ACl injury, mental health struggles, complications during surgery

You are in the middle of recovering from ACL injury. The surgrey went smoothly which was why you thought the healing and getting back on the pitch would be as well. Turned out that wasn't the case. You got injured 4 months ago and the pain was still quite bad. You still worked your ass off to get back on your feet. Frustrated with how stiff your knee was still.

Currently you sat on the floor in the living room of the home you shared with your fiancee, tears running down your face, all you wanted was to pick up the book you dropped but you ended up falling on your bad knee. Your whole Body was shaking from the sobs escaping your lips. You were in pain and so frustrated with yourself and your body. The Cane you used to get around with lying on the floor next to you. You knew this was bad because your knee was already turning different shades of blue.

A few minutes later the front door opened and you could hear Alessia talking to some people. One of those people being your best friend Beth & the other one being your fiancee obviously. But they were followed by two other voices. Your Sisters & Lias voice. As soon as they heard your sobs they ran into the living room. "Babe!" Alessia said in Panic and kneeled down in front of you. "I tumbled and fell. All i wanted was to pick up my book!" You told her. Quickly wiping away your tears. "Little Williamson we need to get you to the hospital cause your knee doesn't look good at all!" Lia, your sister in law answered. "This sucks! I am never gonna be back on the pitch. My Football career is over!" You were close to having a panic attack so Leah sat down on the other side of you. Rubbing your back. "Hey y/n look at me! It will be okay! You are a tough Cookie and you can get through this! But you have to calm down!" Leah answered. "Match my breathing!" Alessia encoruaged you and grabbed your Hand. Placing it on her chest. Beth had an idea to calm you down. She put on your favorite Taylor Swift Song and somehow that worked so Alessia and Leah helped you up. Holding you steady and you made your way to Beths Car cause she was gonna be the one driving.

You ended up quietly crying for the entire car ride. Head on Alessias shoulder, while looking outside the window.

At the hospital everyone was in the waiting room. Everyone but Alessia who was with you almost the entire time and only left your side when you got an CT scan of your knee. She held your hand when the doctor told you that your ACL did tear again. & Your knee cap was fractured. Surgrey was needed and you would have to start your healing Journey from scratch. Which made you emotional and you just cried into Alessias arms.

When you fell asleep your fiancee went to your sister and friends to tell them what happened and that your surgrey was gonna be the next day. Everyone was shocked. "I can't believe it. That poor girl has been through so much! And things just keep adding up." Lia replied. Feeling bad for her sister in law. "We have to be there for her and Support her even more now! She needs us!" Beth stated. "It's like she can't catch a break, but she will get through it! She is a Williamson. And we always pull through." Leah said and it did sound like she not only wanted to try to comfort the others but also herself.

Everyone went home so you could rest. Discussing how to cheer you up after your surgery. While Alessia stayed with you. Holding your hand all night. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair. Your night was rough cause of the pain. Even with the pain meds. It was around 7am when you got prepared for surgery and they took you away from Alessia.

Right after that happened Alessia was waiting for Beth cause your best friend brought over some stuff for you and for Alessia so she could get changed into some fresh clothes after she took a shower in your room. The two waited together for any news on you. Leah, Lia & Viv were getting some things ready for you at home.

It took around 5 hours of surgery to fix both the fractured knee cap & ACL. There also were some complications. Which the doctor told your fiancee and best friend. "She lost alot of blood & slipped into shock but we managed to bring her back. She needs to stay for a few days. If the next two days go well she can go home." He explained. Both Beth and Alessia went pale when he explained to them what had happened.

You were slowly waking up from surgery around 40 minutes later, Alessia holding your hand while Beth & Leah were standing in a corner. "Lessi?" You mumbled out, trying to open your eyes. "Hey Baby. I am here! It's all going to be okay!" She told you. But you could see that she had been on the edge of breaking down."you look quite stressed. What's wrong?" You asked, fully opening your eyes now. They did start hurting a bit cause of the Lights but You shake it off. Alessia was biting down on her bottom lip not sure how to start so Leah stepped in. "You have to stay for a few days, there were some complications." Your sister answered. "You lost alot of blood and slipped away for a moment. They want to check on you for a bit to keep an eye on you, just making sure nothing happens and when things go well you can go home." Beth let you know. You took in the information, trying to make sense of this. The universe could be really unfair. The fact that not only would you have to start your ACL Recovery Journey from the beginning after falling on it, no of course they also had to be complications. "Oh." Was all you said after a while. Trying to smile through the emotional pain but ended up losing some tears over this. Which resulted in a group hug with your fiancee, your sister and your best friend. Of course they were very careful not to hurt you.

Thankfully the next few days went well and the doctor was quite positive about how things were going so you were allowed to go home. At Home you were greeted by a banner that said :'Welcome Home,y/n!' , your Friends also got you some new books, wrote some notes and let the Team write some that said a few Things to make you feel better when you felt down, such a sweet thing to do. the Road to Recovery would be long and hard but at least you knew you didn't have to go through it alone.

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

lake scene • episode 6

before diving into it, bare with me! the lake scene wouldn't be the lake scene if it wasn't for edvin and omar fr: the uncut version of the convo wilmon has was 8 minutes long and all improvised when it was shot. edmar just got told to say what they thought wilmon wanted to say and boom! this lake scene happened. no one is doing it like them.

oh alice is the cherry on top - the 'oh alice we're growing up', the melody fits the setting and the warm colors just right. the perfect song for the perfect scene.

talking about song - wille's song was written right after this scene as lisa said: 'i could see simon walking back home that night, sitting down by his keyboard, birds singing outside, the sun already up and finally it dawning in him: it shouldn't be a revolution to love someone'. do what you want with this info!

without further ado, let's get into it :)

the little smirk after wille stumbles is cuuute. terms are not the best but it still takes something so simple to lighten the mood.

wille's carrying his blue blanket with him can only mean they went to his room to take it before heading here - and so in the time between scenes they talked and thought about the lake to forget everything, planned to bring a blanket to lie down on and enjoy the sunrise, just the two of them :')

you can see the weight of the situation suddenly hitting him.

it's so bittersweet - the lake has always been their happy place but the mood is much darker now, they're sharing what they think is the last big moment together at sunrise.

they try to keep the convo as light as possible but they know too well how much this hurts.

the single tear streaming down.

the different reactions are what get me the most: wille seems almost relaxed in letting the emotions take over compared to simon who's very controlling over it - he blinks and bites his lip trying to stop more tears from falling, he averts his eyes.

simon's not so accepting whilst wille looks resigned.

the scene makes the best out of the limited time bc nothing feels rushed at all: there's no music at first to create that alone time intimacy properly and it keeps getting better with the camera focusing on the way they look at each other shot after shot.

wilhelm breaking the silence with it takes a fool to remain sane is the sickest thing isweartogod.

such a monumental and fond throwback. it's the first memory they have of each other but it's also the first one we have of wilmon too. it brings everyone back to that very first time.

this shot is incredible. young royals will always hold a special place in my heart and i want to remember wilmon just like this.

you would never tell they saw and touched and explored each other's body more than once by the way they're both so shy to undress and wilhelm has to tear his eyes away from simon.

they're still my favorite losers <3

it's also the first time simon undresses himself without wille's help. i think the essence is - to be completely bare and show the most vulnerable version of themselves, to get rid of all the layers and weights they carry around, to let it all behind for this one last time together.

the sparkle in simon's eyes when he looks at wille is so sweet. it's more of a bitter taste that comes with this scene, but in a list of moments that are a perfect example of how much they simply enjoy each other's company, this is definitely one of those - simon says 'when it was us it was good' at the end and it is very true.

all i see here is the plain and simple version of them, they feel so much and everything about this scene is telling us that they just needed to found the right place and the right time to let it out - the nostalgia, the sorrow, the sadness, the silly energy too. it's all so pure.

'they undress, they walk down into the water naked, and they are rebirthed'. lisa once described this moment using these words and they're probably the most accurate. it reminds me of the thing i wrote earlier - taking the white clothes off feels like freeing themselves of every burden and then stepping into the water as a form of sanctification of it.

whether you see it in a religious or a non-religious way, it is a very beautiful image.

the eye contact game is going stronger than everrr.

they're too pretty to be real ugh.

the splash of water :')

this is extremely beautiful and the transition between the two is perfectly made.

it's such a loving gesture - we can't really tell which one of the two is done before but it's the fact simon does it twice that matters: he follows the instinct to do it once but it's still not enough so he feels the need to do it again.

this shot was one of the stills that came out for promo before the season's release and i remember being completely blown away by it.

i claimed it and said this scene would be one of the core ones of the show and well, i guess i was right!

the whole water sequence is a visual representation of simon getting further and further away from wilhelm. both times he turns around to look at him tho - it's not what he wants to do but he has to do it for their sake.

also! one pov is from into the water and the other one is from the shore. idk if it's casual or hides an actual meaning but it's fun to point out sooo

too many single tears were shed for my fragile heart to handle.

this pretty much sums up the way i felt at the end too.

pain is written all over simon's face but i was not prepared for wille's sobs and his shoulders uncontrollably shaking. stab me.

he just keeps watching simon slip through his fingers and he's left to wonder what's supposed to happen now?.

from wille's words - 'how can you just be over me? i thought it would be us' - we learn that he's convinced simon is already over them and he's alone in struggling to accept it and move on (oh if only he knew).

he breathes but this is more of a this is it sigh - now it's time for me to learn how to let him go.

[fangdokja]

🔞You like them crazy because deep down, you are too.

❤︎ Synopsis. Your favorite yandere is a walking red flag, and honestly, you’re just obsessed with the idea of being loved to the point of insanity. You want someone who’ll choke you with affection (literally), and hey, that says a lot about your choices… and your taste in men.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Jujutsu Kaisen Males (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong) x Fem. Reader (separate)

♡ Headcanon. What Your Favorite Yandere Says About Your Interesting Kinks

♡ Word Count. 4,055

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age. This post is meant to be a fun, exaggerated meme—don’t take it too seriously. It’s all in good humor and not a deep psychological analysis (but maybe a little bit).

♡ A/N. So, I enjoyed making the Genshin shiz post and decided to make a JJK version. Might do a HSR one next as well... maybe. Also... I kinda went overboard here, compared to the more organized Genshin one, but seriously I was laughing while writing this. Just funny shiz post. I would say this one's more explicit though haha (no explicit sex), I had way too much fun haha, especially Naoya's and Kenjaku's.

♡ Gojo Satoru.

You have a god complex by association. You want someone who could obliterate the entire planet, but instead, he chooses to stalk your Instagram at 3 a.m. to overanalyze your cryptic "feeling lonely" post.

You’re into men who act like they’re God’s gift to humanity, and honestly? You believe them. You probably like bratty tops who think they’re in control but low-key need to be chained down before they destroy Tokyo because you wouldn’t let them kiss you.

You like men who are unbearable, but in a way that makes you want to lick their face instead of slap it. You saw him take his blindfold off once and immediately decided you’d risk everything for a man who can and will ruin your life with a smirk. Therapy? Never heard of it, because why would you need that when you’re obsessed with a 6'3" man-child whose idea of foreplay is showing off while making you think it’s all about you? Spoiler: it’s not. It’s about him, and you’re fine with it.

You like the idea of someone worshipping you, but also low-key want them to ruin you mentally, emotionally, and physically—preferably in that order.

But you’re still into being spoiled rotten—designer everything, sugar daddy vibes, and someone who’d probably keep you locked in a gilded cage. You pretend you have standards, but deep down, you’re just into being treated like you’re the rarest Pokémon in existence.

You don’t want a boyfriend—you want an all-seeing sugar daddy who gaslights you into thinking the world revolves around him (because in his mind, it does). You probably love the idea of being tied up in a metaphorical (or literal, no judgment) infinity of his obsession. Big on tease and denial, huh?

You’ve definitely thought about what his infinity could do in a make-out session and probably Googled "can Gojo turn infinity off during sex." (No, you’re not getting an answer to that.)

You're also into being teased until you're on the verge of tears, only for him to laugh and say, "Aw, you're so cute when you're frustrated," while continuing to absolutely destroy you. Bonus points if he calls you sweetheart in that condescending, sing-song voice while pinning you to the bed with one hand.

You're also into blindfolds… probably for the aesthetic, but we all know you’re fantasizing about what comes after he takes it off. You’re not scared of being kidnapped, you’re scared of never being spoiled again.

You’re also the type of person who screenshots memes and sends them 3 weeks later without context.

♡ Ryōmen Sukuna.

You're feral. You don’t want love—you want to be destroyed. You want a man who’ll treat you like garbage and somehow it’s hot. "I can fix him" but also, "I don’t want to fix him. Step on me, Daddy."

Your idea of romance is someone who could rip your heart out (literally) and then hold it hostage as you beg for his attention. You’re also too into biting. If he left a handprint bruise on your neck, you’d frame it. Low-key fantasize about getting kidnapped because you think you’d be “too bratty to kill,” and he’d find that cute.

You’re into primal domination, teeth marks, and being pinned against the wall while he laughs at your “attempt” to fight back.

You think it’s hot when men are morally bankrupt and would rather die than be called soft. You definitely believe in Stockholm Syndrome as a viable love language.

This man could call you maggot filth and you’d be texting your friends, “Sukuna said he cared about me today 🥰.” You secretly want him to slap you so hard you see the Cursed Realm.

The worse he treats you, the harder you simp. If he kills your whole family, you’d probably just be like, “They were annoying anyway, babe.”

You’re into primal play, possessiveness, and hearing “you’re mine” growled into your ear like it’s a death sentence (which, with Sukuna, it might be).

You definitely have unresolved trauma and thought “you know what would help? A walking red flag with abs.” You want someone so feral they’d burn down a village just because someone looked at you for 0.2 seconds. Also, you like men who are literally impossible to please because the idea of “earning his love” gets you off.

Your kinks? Pain. Not just physical—emotional, spiritual, metaphysical. You’re the type who thinks choking is romantic foreplay and that love should feel like a hostage situation.

You act like you hate red flags, but you’re planting them in your garden, watering them, and crying when they bloom. Therapy is not in your vocabulary.

You’re deeply into degradation and secretly believe you could “fix him.” Spoiler alert: you can’t, but you’ll die trying. You probably tweet things like “If a man doesn’t put me in his domain expansion, does he even love me?”

Bonus points if you’ve searched for Sukuna x Reader fics where he calls you pathetic but won’t let anyone else touch you.

We see you, masochist. We see you.

You also have daddy issues so big that Sukuna would probably laugh in your face while exploiting them. You’re a masochist in denial and definitely want him to choke you out with those extra hands.

You’ve 100% Googled "can I sell my soul for demon dick" and meant it. You're 100% into monsterfucking. Your search history also includes "tentacle bondage" and "can cursed energy be sexy?"

♡ Suguru Geto.

You have a superiority complex and an inferiority complex. You want someone who’ll emotionally devastate you while maintaining the vibe of a calm, manipulative cult leader. You think you’re classy, but we both know you’re just a slut for a man who says “we need to cleanse the world” like he’s ordering wine at a fancy restaurant.

You think cult leader chic is hot. Your dream date is being kidnapped and indoctrinated into a religious group. You’re into soft-spoken manipulation and think “he didn’t abandon me, he abandoned humanity.”

You want someone who sees you as the one good thing in a world full of “monkeys,” but also you secretly like the idea of being his religion.

You’ll excuse literal genocide because "he’s got a point."

You want someone who hates everyone else but you. Like, he would literally commit mass murder just so you can have a peaceful walk in the park. Into spiritual awakening, but make it horny. Imagine him whispering sacrilegious promises in your ear while surrounded by cursed spirits. That’s your vibe.

You’re the kind of person who’d get Stockholm Syndrome after two days and start quoting his manifesto back to him. He’d probably love-bomb you, use you for his master plan, and then leave you to pick up the pieces. And you’d thank him for it.

You’re into praise kink but only if it’s delivered in a soft yet condescending tone while you’re kneeling in front of him. You want someone who’ll call you his “favorite pet” while subtly threatening to end your bloodline if you step out of line.

Your other kinks? Corruption. You’re into “turning to the dark side” scenarios, and the idea of being brainwashed is weirdly hot to you. Maybe you need a therapist, but Geto would probably convince you therapists are a scam.

You probably daydream about scenarios where you “fix” him, but let’s be honest—you’d fold faster than a lawn chair if he so much as smirked at you. You want a man who looks like he listens to lo-fi while murdering people. You also have unresolved issues with wanting to “save” someone who’s already beyond saving.

You’re down bad for emotionally unavailable men who’ll manipulate you into thinking you’re special. Also, you think long hair = good in bed, and you’re not wrong.

Hair-pulling kink? Try him pulling yours while telling you you’re his only salvation.

Also, he probably tells you to call him master, and you’re into it.

Also, you’re a sucker for men who look like they haven’t slept in 10 years but can still bench press you emotionally.

♡ Naoya Zen'in.

You hate him. You absolutely despise him. And yet, why are you blushing when he calls you a stupid little slut?

You have daddy issues, but instead of unpacking them, you decided to make them worse by stanning this sexist menace. You hate him, but that’s the appeal.

Congratulations, you’re a walking meme of bad decisions, and your search history definitely includes “toxic alpha male x reader.” You don’t even want a healthy relationship—you want to be insulted creatively until you're crying, and then have him smirk while telling you how pretty you look when you break.

You tell people you hate misogyny but get weak in the knees when he says “stay in your place, woman.” You want someone who’ll treat you like garbage, then be jealous when other people try to respect you.

You think Naoya calling you a “stupid little girl” is the height of romance (because if you’re into him, you’re already used to disrespect).

100% into punishment kinks. The idea of Naoya spanking you until you cry and then calling you a “good little servant” lives rent-free in your head.

You have issues in general—daddy, mommy, and probably every other flavor. You like them toxic because boring men don’t deserve rights. You thrive in arguments, especially if you’re the one winning.

You have the worst taste in men, and you know it. You actively choose violence. You think hate sex fixes everything. Spoiler: it doesn’t. But you’ll still keep coming back for more.

You either have a degradation kink or you’re lying to yourself. You want someone to look you in the eyes and call you pathetic while simultaneously making you feel like the most desired person alive.

Into degradation? No, you’re into obliteration. You want to be called the most heinous names and still hear him say, “Good girl” after. If he spit in your mouth, you’d say “thank you” like it’s a five-star Yelp review.

You're the type to start arguments on purpose because makeup sex is your Olympic sport. You think misogyny is hot as long as it's directed at everyone but you (spoiler: Naoya’s a yandere, so he’ll worship you, but he’ll still be the absolute worst).

Brat taming. You want Naoya to slam you against a wall and hiss, "You're so mouthy for someone who's about to beg for mercy," and you’d call him an asshole just to see him lose it.

You also have a breeding kink, don’t lie.

You’re into enemies-to-lovers with 90% enemies and 10% begrudging affection.

You’re probably the most unhinged of them all. Like, “I hate him but also step on me” vibes. You’d start a fight with him for fun, only to let him win because he’s hotter when he’s smug. Also, your type in men is the human embodiment of the patriarchy, and that says a lot.

You also secretly love being called slurs in bed, and you’d let him ruin your life if it meant he’d pay attention to you. You tell people you don’t believe in second chances, yet you’d give him 47.

Naoya IS your red flag, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re also that person who gets mad when people insult your favorite character, even though your fave literally deserves it.

♡ Megumi Fushiguro.

You're into the quiet ones, but let’s be real, you know he’s one bad day away from snapping and going full “yandere shadow puppeteer” on you. You want someone who’s obsessively loyal, even to the point of chaining you to a radiator “for your safety.”

You’re that person who says, “I can fix him,” and you believe it. Spoiler: you can’t.

Soft yandere vibes are your weakness. You want him to apologize for locking you up and then immediately do it again. You cry during sex, and Megumi is your dream man because he’d hold you gently while fucking you senseless.

You’re basically the emotionally repressed type who cries over sad anime but denies having feelings. You low-key want to be fixed, but you also get off on being the problem.

Silent, brooding types who lose control just for you. You’d die if Megumi whispered, "I don’t care what happens to the world, as long as I have you," while dragging his nails down your skin.

You want a yandere who doesn’t look like one. You’re basically into emotionally constipated men who will quietly destroy anyone that looks at you wrong, but they’ll do it with zero fanfare.

Pretends he’s not obsessed, but you find out he’s been tracking your location via his Shikigami for weeks.

Slow burn? Try agonizingly torturous burn. You love the suffering.

Your kinks? Praise and ownership. You want a boyfriend who’ll carve your name into his soul and blush when you call him a good boy. You also cry during movies about dogs.

You fantasize about wholesome dates that spiral into him casually committing arson because someone looked at you the wrong way. You think being protected is sexy, but deep down, you know you’re the real danger.

You have main character syndrome, but you’re too awkward to admit it. You think you can “fix” people and are always attracted to brooding, emotionally unavailable boys. You’re the type to fall for someone because of their tragic backstory and spend hours analyzing their behavior like you’re trying to win a Nobel Prize.

People think you’re quiet and reserved, but deep down, you’re the freakiest person in the room.

Also, you want his demon dogs involved somehow, and we’re not unpacking that.

♡ Yuji Itadori.

You think sunshine boys are the ultimate bait-and-switch. You want someone sweet and wholesome on the surface but capable of going feral if someone threatens what’s his (spoiler: it’s you).

You’re into soft yanderes who make you think, “Wait, am I the villain here?” But then he kisses you with tears in his eyes and says, “I just don’t know what I’d do without you,” and you’re like, “Oh okay, my bad, ruin my life I guess.”

You’re delusional and think nice guys finish first. You believe you can fix him, even though there’s nothing broken except his moral compass after meeting Sukuna.

Your kinks? Consent (most stan a green flag king), but also low-key primal. You want someone who’s soft and sweet but will absolutely ruin you when pushed too far. Also, you’re probably into breathy whimpers.

You’re into soft yandere energy, like him cooking you dinner while thinking about how to “disappear” your coworker for complimenting your outfit. You also have a praise kink, but you want it to feel genuine. You’re high-key a romantic but still enjoy the thrill of danger.

You’re the type to fall for cinnamon rolls, but you secretly want them to have a feral, toxic side. You pretend to be wholesome but you’re just as depraved as the Sukuna stans—you just hide it better. Also, you’d probably call him “puppy” in bed, and he’d eat it up.

You probably fantasize about “accidentally” walking in on him shirtless after training.

You’re into strength kink. Yuji carrying you around like a sack of potatoes is your idea of foreplay.

If Yuji’s your fave, you’re into the gentle dom who’d snap someone’s neck for you aesthetic. He’d die for you, but he’d also kill for you. And you’re oddly okay with that.

Bonus points if you want to corrupt him because you think it’d be hot to see him snap.

You’re also the type to fall in love with someone because they smiled at you once in 2017.

♡ Toge Inumaki.

You want someone who won’t talk back. Literally. You think communication is overrated and fantasize about a partner who’ll just look at you with hungry eyes while whispering forbidden words into your ear.

You’re the quiet type who wants absolute filth whispered into your ear.

You want to be whispered sweet nothings like "sleep" and then wake up in his bed with a collar on. The duality of “onigiri” and “shut the fuck up” does things to you.

The idea of hearing nothing but the word “come” and losing your mind sends you feral.

You’re into restraint—both the literal and metaphorical kind. You’ve imagined him using cursed speech in the bedroom, and you know exactly how you’d want him to shut you up. You definitely think subtlety is sexier than overt passion.

You claim you like soft boys, but really, you’re just waiting for him to whisper something filthy in that raspy voice.

You’re into the duality of him being both your sweet protector and your most dangerous weakness.

You think “silent but deadly” is hot, but you also have a thing for guys who communicate through body language and emotional gestures. You probably have a Tumblr tag called “soft yanderes” that’s full of questionable content.

Your kinks? Teasing. You want to be pinned down, held firmly, and whispered sweet nothings in cursed speech that leave you trembling. Also, bondage. Don't not lie to yourself.

You think you’re subtle, but everyone knows you have a thing for quiet guys with devastatingly good bone structure. You’re also into the idea of being “the only one” who truly understands him. Let’s be real: you’d let him ruin your life with three words or less.

You’ve definitely thought about what those cursed speech commands could do in the bedroom, haven’t you? Don’t lie. “Stay.” “Kneel.” “Louder.” It’s a problem. You think you’re subtle, but the fact that you bookmarked that one smut fic about him proves otherwise.

You’ve also Googled "what does ‘salmon’ mean in bed" and debated buying a Toge cosplay for your next convention.

♡ Kenjaku.

You’re insane. Full stop.

You’re the type who’d fall for the villain just because they’re hot.

You tell yourself it’s because you “appreciate complex characters,” but it’s really because you have no self-preservation instincts. You’re also probably into weird shiz like non-human anatomy, but you’ll never admit it.

Let’s be honest: you’ve considered the implications of his ability to switch bodies. Your fantasies are wild, and you need a moment to collect yourself.

You want someone who’s both your daddy and mommy because Kenjaku’s body-hopping antics make that possible. Extreme levels of psychological manipulation and kinky body horror. A true deviant.

You’ve definitely read an NSFW fic about body possession and didn’t even flinch. You like the idea of someone who will tear your life apart but still call you their “greatest creation.”

You’re a mess. Like, emotionally and spiritually. You’ve been reading dark fanfics for so long that nothing fazes you anymore.

You don’t want love—you want chaos. You like characters who are 50% sexy and 50% terrifying. You probably think brain surgery is hot. You’re also into weird power dynamics where you’re both the victim and the accomplice.

You think mad scientist energy is hot, and you’d probably let him experiment on you just for the intimacy of it. You’re into power play and mind games, and the idea of someone controlling you physically and mentally is your ultimate kink. You’d sell your soul for five minutes of his attention, and he knows it. Your moral compass? Nonexistent. You just want to get tied up and brainwashed by a centuries-old freak.

You think it’s hot that he’d use your body as part of his experiments. You’d let him ruin your entire lineage for “science.”

You’re not even into happy endings; you just want to be obliterated.

♡ Shiu Kong.

If your favorite yandere is Shiu Kong, congratulations—you’re into men who could ruin your life with one smirk and a casual drag off their cigarette. You like your chaos with a suit and tie, and you’re absolutely weak for someone who looks like they’d call you “kid” while tying you to a chair in a dimly lit room. You’ve definitely fantasized about being the center of his cold, calculated obsession, probably while he’s adjusting his cufflinks and making morally questionable business deals.

You love the idea of a man who’s emotionally unavailable but physically possessive. Shiu wouldn’t say he loves you, but he’d definitely let you know you’re his. You probably have a thing for the cold, calculated type who’ll throw you a smirk that says, “You won’t survive me, but you’ll die happy.” Let’s be honest—you want someone who treats you like a business deal but kisses you like he’s closing the contract with teeth and tongue.

You’re into men who handle their business—and by business, we mean kidnapping, extortion, and murder with a side of snark. You probably tell yourself you’re into “stoic bad boys,” but let’s be real, you just want a man who can pin you against a wall and growl something like, “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.” Bonus points if it’s in a low, gravelly voice that makes your knees weak.

You’re the type to think a cigarette dangling from his lips while he manhandles you is peak romance. He’d pin you to a desk, adjust his suit jacket, and ask, “Do you really think anyone else could handle you like this?” in that calm, businesslike tone that makes you feral. You like being dominated by someone who looks like they just closed a multi-million-yen deal, and you want him to ruin you in the same suit he wore to work.

You want someone who exudes “don’t waste my time” energy but secretly has the patience to torment you until you’re begging (for mercy or more, who’s to say?). You saw him in that suit and immediately thought, “I wonder if he’d use that belt on me?” Spoiler: he would, but only after lighting a cigarette and telling you to be quiet.

You fantasize about someone who’ll say, “Don’t get attached,” while making you fall so hard you’re practically writing your own kidnapping ransom note.

You’re also into the grudging protector trope—he’ll act like he’s just “handling business,” but the second someone else looks at you wrong, you know he’s flipping tables and snarling something like, “They should’ve known better.” Bonus points if he dusts himself off afterward and says, “Clean yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve got plans for us.”

“I’ll only associate with you in hell” energy that screams hot and toxic.

———

P.S. Actually fun fact, among all JJK yanderes, I enjoy writing Kenjaku the most.

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud

[natsuminmin]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆ CHATBOX LOVE -> kenma kozume !!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NEVER MET! by CMTEN , glitch gum

synopsis; in which kenma is sent into a spiral after seeing a familiar username cw: deff slight angst, discord type-love , usage of baby , erm exes trope , kenma crash out , unproofread + lowercase , implied f!reader but can be interpreted as gn!reader , idk if its ooc but prob eek,

"and even though it's been a week, i still think of your face"

already? wow, a week since you had ended things with kenma. to him, it felt like months. years, even, which was why he decided to stop counting the days.

so imagine his surprise when he had randomly matched up with you in roblox.

he swears it was you, had all the the same numbers in your user, all the same accessories in your avatar.

he just had to type in the chatbox, he didn't care how desperate he sounded, he wants you back:

kod5uken : [baby? baby thats u right? its kenma]

skibidi1234 : [uhhh no sorry dude idk you]

ah. and then skibidi1234 left, probably weirded out. damn it, he was hallucinating now. on top of that, he was stupid enough to say his real name online.

he left the game himself too, closing roblox in a rage. he wanted to sleep, but his puffy eyes and stuffy nose made it hard to do so.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

barbie : [kenma we need to talk ]

kennie : [what is it]

barbie : [lets break up]

kennie : [oh]

kennie : [okay]

barbie : [im sorry, i cant juggle you and studies]

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

that was the last he's heard from you because you've blocked him on everything. hell, you even blocked him on spotify. he should've listened when everyone told him e-dating was going to ruin him.

but how could he resist? he had fallen in love with you already. you were his perfect partner; games with him (somewhat bad, but you both managed), funny, attractive, his type. it's just unfortunate that you had to live miles away from him.

kenma's done sooo much impulsive things just for you: blew all his money on the latest 2-player game from steam so he could play with you, vc'ed until the latest hours of night just so he could keep talking to you, he even skipped some volleyball practices so he could come home earlier just to see you in a video chat.

ugh, he can't count all the times he's lost his dignity either. he had called you "his barbie" and he called himself ken. oh god, that was probably one of the cringiest things he's said in his life.

and don't even remind him about online karaoke, god knows how much screen records you have of his voice breaking mid-song.

speaking of records, he can't bear to delete all the adorable pictures you sent while updating him about your day. he's always liked seeing what weird and interesting things you've done. but worst of all, he's kept screenshots of every loving and tender message from you that had flustered him (spoiler alert: anything you said made his ears red.)

he opened the album he had moved the screenshots to, scrolling through it until his eyes settled on a certain one:

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

barbie : [baby u live in japan right?]

kennie : [mhm]

barbie : [nice]

barbie : [just wait, im gonna buy tickets to fly there soon]

kennie : [ur crazy]

barbie : [sure yes whatever... i luv u ken :P]

kennie : [i love you too]

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

oh, dear. he can feel tears running down his cheek again. yep, there it was. his recently cleared sinus was blocking up again. damn it, he thought, as he wrapped himself tighter in the sheet. he can't even enjoy playing his games anymore.

kenma still misses you, from the very day you left him. you were his perfect partner, even though you had heartlessly shattered his heart and he would probably never entrust someone with it.

you know what, he'll never respond to some random dm ever again.

unless it was from you, of course.

"it'd be better if we had just never met"

a/n: was a request from two of my dearest friends who suprisingly are kenma luvrs LOL hi guys @rahhhr @terrariumaura also this was a nod to his 2020-self ik this was so cliche and someone has probably done this but i hoped you like my own (short) spin on it guys do uu know the genius that thought of their chat names BECAUSE BECAUSE THE SONG GOES LIKE "REMEMBER WHEN I CALLED YOU MY BARBIE AND I WAS KEN" IT FITS SO WELL BECAUSE KEN-MA okay bye

[likea-silhouette]

*coming soon*

harry styles x fem!reader rating: mature (eventual smut & alcohol/drug usage)

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices? *based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod* ___

30-year-old me could've never fathomed life would've looked like this.

The 21-year-old me pictured it a million times—a future with him and me, maybe children, maybe a flat.

Our love was solidified in my mind as if something like ours would never change or dwindle. How could it? 

But that's what love feels like at 21 until reality sets in and those dreams and visions of future eternal love begin to fade and the reality of adulthood kicks in.

Harry started going out—a lot. 

It was something not unusual for a man at an age that had just begun to kiss his early 20s, but then it changed. It evolved into this dark cloud that hovered over he and I until it intermingled with every feeling I held towards him.

I could tell he had a problem. The drugs, the drinking-all of it had turned into something far from a normal night of fun. Before I knew it, the Harry I once knew and adored more than anything had evaporated into an air drenched in dismay, regret, and questioning. 

Until our mid-twenties, our shared friends watched me sling Harry’s arm around my shoulder each time we went out together. Their sets of eyes always preached sympathy, yet their tongues must’ve been cut off-or at least that’s what I assumed due to their lack of actual words. 

Each one of those frequently occurring nights where I struggled to move his flimsy legs out of a bar as his larger, drunk stature slurred words that only made sense to him, I could feel myself hating him a little more.

Eventually, I was questioning it all. Why wasn’t I enough? Why wasn’t his music and his family enough? Why did it have to be substances that turned him into a human that I never met nor signed up to be so deeply in love with?

I began to opt out anytime Harry said we were invited for a night out with others. I could tell his disappointment the first couple of times I declined, but eventually, he stopped letting me know of these invitations altogether with me only finding out about them as I watched him slip on his coat near the front door and tell me not to wait up for him.

At the tip of our shriveling iceberg, I became so numb that it rarely bothered me anymore. Those first nights when this was more of a rare occurrence, I would find myself crying into a pillow as Harry’s passed-out body lay in a corpse-like pose on our couch. Now, I felt nothing. Everything that once annoyed and worried me had turned into just another item on my checklist that I needed to be bothered with at 3 a.m. on a Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday…

His drunkenness had not only turned Harry into a completely different person, but it had turned me into someone I also didn't recognize. It had me questioning if I was even happy in our relationship, something I had never felt or imagined would happen to two people who were as deeply in love as we once were.

I wasn’t a total novacained creature; even if that’s what I wished I could be. Eventually, those feelings would bubble up and I would find my pot simmering over its edge. Tears would leak and leak from my eyes as I’d pace both metaphorically and physically while I tried to process how this had become what my life with Harry was. My throat would scratch and rub raw as I cried out into our empty apartment until my eyes were so tired and swollen that the nothingness of sleep was the only thing that sounded appealing and worth succumbing to. To Be Continued

[the-eclipse-is-in-me]

100 hits!!!!

I just reached 100 hits on IDOV on AO3!!!

AHAHHHAHAHAHAH!!!!!

So here are 8 and 9 of IDOV

Chapter 8: If we have each other (Cresent's POV)

Summary:

This how Cresent got claimed as a daughter of Hades, and how she met Nico, her favorite big brother

Notes:

Ya, so you know how I said that no more "in the past" chapters. I got writer's block and then @permetutotheworld on Tumblr gave me the idea for this chapter while we were RPing, so now this exists. Hope you enjoy Chapter is based on the song If we have each other

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

(2 years ago)

I was running the woods, zigzagging the through the trees, dodging the branches as I pass them. I was being chased by some monster. I had no idea what it was, but it had a scorpion’s tail, a bat’s wings, and the head of a lion. I ran as fast as I could, but I was running out of energy. Tears were running down my face, burning my skin. I was scared, angry, and most importantly. Alone.

I kept running, then suddenly a hand came from the shadows and pulled me in. I was covered in darkness, then light. I was laying in the grass somewhere. Next to me was a boy. He had black hair and pale olive skin. He was wearing a black skull shirt and a bomber jacket with black jean. He also had a strange black sword hanging from his belt. I got up and examined our surrounding. We were in a clearing the woods, but it seemed like a different one than the one I was running in earlier.

More tears fell from my eyes. I was further from home than I was before, there’s no way I will be able to find my way back now. I sat back down and curled up into a ball. Then someone sat next to me. It was the boy from earlier.

“Hey, you ok?” He asked me

“No, I’m lost and instead of being at home, I’m stuck here with some random guy.” I replied, as I continued to cry.

“How did you get lost?”

“I was waiting for my mom to pick me up from school. It was my first day at this new school, and it hadn’t gone well. I had to go to a different school than my sisters cause I’m the oldest, at least that is what my mom said. I got tired of waiting for my mom inside, so I went around the school to this patch of woods I found at recess. I wasn’t really a people person and the shadows always seemed to spiral when I was nervous, so I didn’t bother. I went to the woods then suddenly this monster comes running towards me. I started to run for I don’t know how long, then when I lost it for a moment I realized I was lost. I tried to find my way back but the monster just appeared again and the rest is history.” The sun started to set as I finished my story, it was getting cold, so I pulled my hood around myself, the sleeves also wet with tears.

“I am so sorry for what you have been through, that must have been hard for you.” He said after a moment.

“Well, I was planning on running away to my aunt’s, though I haven’t yet figured out how to get there. I was tired of dealing with that woman every day, and I’m pretty sure she would have kicked me out already if it weren’t for my stepdad. He’s the only one who stands up for me, and now I may never see him again. I just accidently sped up the process of getting rid of me.”

“What happened to your biological dad?”

“My mom says he died, and I want to believe her, but I just don’t. He left me this pendant.” I held up my crescent moon pendent. My most prized possession. “He’s out there somewhere, but finding him has never crossed my mind. If he wants to know me, he can find me himself. At least he could have, until now.”

“I get that, come on let’s find somewhere safe to stay for the night” He started to get up, but I grab his arm.

“I don’t know who you are, or even your name. You really expect me to follow you wherever you’re going, I may be 12 but I ain’t stupid.”

“So, you would tell your life story to a stranger before finding out their name,” I rolled my eyes “Alright, I’m Nico di Angelo”

“Cresent, Cresent Solace” Nico seemed shocked by this. He continued to get up, and I followed

“Oh, you’re a Solace.” I tried very hard not to give him a side eye.

“Ya, didn’t I just say that.”

“Are you in anyway related to Will Solace?” “Did he just say Will, or am I dreaming”

“Yes, he’s my cousin, but I haven’t seen him in months. Every time we go visit Aunt Naomi, he’s not there anymore.”

“That’s probably because he is at camp.” “What the hell is this boy talking about?”

“Camp, what camp?”

“Camp Half-Blood, he’s the head-medic there.” “Seriously, what the hell is this boy talking about?”

“What is my causing doing at some camp being the head medic, it’s not even summer break anymore.”

“He’s a demigod and a year-rounder, so that’s why. And I have reason to suspect that you are one too.”

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT! Hold up, what you mean demigod. Like the child of a god, but how, and which god, and which pantheon, and how do you know I’m a demigod, and…”

“Hey, one question at a time ok, I just got up from shadow travelling and my head is buzzing.”

“Are you a demigod, is that how you did the thing with the shadows.” I was feeling better, so my ADHD kicked in.

“Ya, son of Hades. And your cousin is the son of Apollo.”

“So, I’m guessing Greek, but how? Aren’t they supposed to be in Greece?”

“The gods move to where the strongest belief or remembrance by mortals is. Currently it’s in the US, but they have been around.”

“So, they still come down sometimes and have kids with us mortals?”

“Exactly”

“And you think that I, Cresent Solace the most awkward being in the universe, could be a child of the gods.”

“Well one of them, you radiate power, a familiar one actually. Like from one of the Big Three.”

“You mean Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. There is no way I am one of their kids. I’ve always been deathly afraid of lighting, but I do enjoy watching the rain. Water hates me and I am asthmatic, so I am not trying that again. I’m mostly fine with death and that stuff, and darkness seems cool rather than scary to me. Are those signs of which one of them could be my dad?”

“Maybe, but we can’t be for certain until one of them claims you.” Then suddenly, the symbol of Hades appeared above my head. “Thanks a lot, Dad.” Nico mumbled

“My day has definitely gotten better. Hi brother, are we going to CBH?”

“Hello, at least we now know who your dad is. When I get more energy, we can set off for New York. Right now, we need to find a place to sleep.”

“Let’s do that. All the running has made me tired too.”

And we set off through the woods on our next adventure, together.

Notes:

I love how they already be acting like sibling the first time they meet, (if you disagree, come see my house), I love these two so much I just had to do this. Next chapter will be in Quinn's POV, and it will be continuing the story I promise. Just had to get this out there.

Chapter 9: Labyrinth (Quinn’s POV)

Summary:

Quinn needs to talk to Cresent after bumping into her earlier. Will helps.

Notes:

I DID IT, I WROTE THE CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!! This was so hard to come up with, and I had a week off, what a waste. But anyways here it is. Hope you like, songs for this chapter are Labyrinth and I miss you, I'm sorry

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I was training with my sword, taking swings at the dummy. I was about to take my next one when I sensed something approaching from behind. I turned on my heel, mid-swing. Then suddenly, my sword left my hands. I looked down to see a girl, with brown-royal purple ombre hair with a silver headband. She had blue eyes, purple contact on her right, and a crescent moon pendant. “I know that pendant.” She was also wearing a black camp shirt and yellow camp sweater.

I held out my hand to help her up because that was the polite thing to do, but she just swatted it away. She got up on her own and dusted herself off. I turned around to pick up my sword cause the girl didn’t seem to be in the mood for awkward conversation. She seemed to have changed her mind about training cause she turned around and walked away.

When she was finally out of sight, I let out my wings and flew out of there. I needed to talk to someone, and at the moment I could only think of my sisters. Holly and Laurel Victor.

I stopped in front of our cabin and walked in. As usual, they were fighting over something. I knocked on the frame of one of the doors to get their attention. They both turned to me and instantly got up from their spot.

“What is it?” Holly asked.

“Ya, we’re kind of busy right now,” Laurel said after.

“I need help, and I could only think of you guys to go to,” I replied

“You need to make new friends, you’ve been here for 6 months, and all you do is talk about that Cresent girl.”

“Ya, that’s what I need help with. I saw her on the training grounds earlier, and the old crush is coming back.”

“Had it ever left?” Laurel said under her breath. “So how do we fit into this.”

“Well, I need a way to talk to her, without her walking away from me this time.”

“Have you tried, walking up to her and saying hi,” Holly said

“No, she should go to the camp shop and get her something.”

“It’s they right now.” But they just ignored me.

“No, she should get that dagger she made her before she left, put a note at one end, then send one of the Hermes kids to give it to Cresent.” Great, they started a competition on the best way to talk to Cres. “Cres, I miss calling her that.”

“You guys, I want to give it to Cresent myself…” I was about to say something else when someone knocked on our door. It was Will from the infirmary.

“Uh, hi! Someone needs to talk to you and for some reason, they couldn’t come themselves, so they sent me. They said to meet them in the clearing, and that you would know where.” I instantly flashed back to one of my favourite days with Cresent. She found this clearing in the woods, and the first person she showed it to was me. We had so much fun.

I ran past Will, eager to find our old spot. If I was right I would be able to see my best friend again, if not I could help some camper and move on with my sad life. “No don’t think like that, Quinn, It’s definitely Cres.”

I reached the clearing. And there she was. She had taken off her headband, so her hair started to fall in her face. Her eyes looked unfocused, her dark skin glowing in the light. She looked beautiful as usual, and I can say that cause I may or may not have been spying on her a bit, and every time she looked stunning.

She finally looked at me, and tears instantly pierced my eyes. Then she did something completely unexpected, she ran up and hugged me. Like actually hugged me.  Like she did when we were friends. And I hugged her back.

Notes:

This chapter makes me happy, and the next chapter will also make me happy, I am very happy

Tags: @permetutotheworld @biggestqiblifan @massiveladycat

@fukurouonthesea @demigod-jack-hearth @emdabitchass @chaos-cupid @

[luminique]

I read through your entire Lighter zzz tag over the last few days bc the brainrot is real, lol. Thanks for the food, and I have some (potential) brainrot for you in return: Girl Dad lighter

I just know that man is sobbing at every milestone she hits. First steps? He gets misty eyed. First word? Literal tears streaming down his face. Bonus points if baby’s first word is about Lighter, i.e. “papa,” or maybe “song,” but she’s pointing at Lighter in a way that makes it obvious she means “strong” but just can’t say it yet. And Overlord help him when she starts learning to drive.

Also, whether she’s bio, step, or adopted, it makes no difference to him, that’s his baby girl either way!!

Anyway, those are (some of) my thoughts, lol.

i watched a vid of a little kitten imitating a golden retriever that had helped raise the kitten and it reminded me of lighter and i remembered this. girl dad lighter is so real and especially with his character theme video where he’s trying to take care of his comrade’s little sister….. this could be seen as a continuation of some sorts to another post of mine here !!

being a dad isn’t easy, not that he thought it would be. it’s physically demanding with how often he has to get up at night to cradle the baby to sleep, or how much he has to entertain her (he is not raising an ipad kid). what he didn’t consider is how emotional he could become over the course of a few years.

he remembers when she took her first steps. carefully crawling around his room, playing around with her toys but particularly close to a small stool he had. “come here, pretty” lighter’s hands were open for his little girl to crawl over to him. his voice was much sweeter and higher pitched, a change that you only hear when he’s talking to her. he initially thought that it would just be another fun play time but didn’t expect what he saw next.

as her small hands gripped the stool’s legs, she pushed herself up and was able to stand on her two feet. okay okay, nothing too surprising there, he thought. she turned around to him and began to take one step, then another, before tripping and falling down. his eyes widened at the sight, not knowing whether to be happy or be worried as he went over to her, coddling her with reassurance. “does it hurt anywhere? it’s okay, daddy’s here.” he gently wiped away her tears before it clicked in his head.

“wait… you just walked. that’s my girl.” chuckling as tears of joy welled up in his eyes. she didn’t quite understand but she saw his smile and laughed too, her own crying beginning to turn into laughter.

her first words were more of a group effort? ever since lighter became a dad, he hung out less during the sons of calydons night time gatherings around the fire. wanting to prioritize her sleep time and stay indoors at night, however the girls were able to convince him to hang out for a bit. they also wanted to see his little girl more then him but they wouldn’t directly admit it.

with the baby on the overlord’s lap, fascinated by caesar’s mechanical arm, she’s blabbering out nonsensical noises. then all of a sudden “dada” and “papa” comes out of her when she’s looking up at him. “d-did she just say papa…?” all of them turned towards the little girl that was grabbing at caesar’s grey-ish green hair.

“can you say burnice? burn like let’s burn this place down!” “burnice! she is NOT learning your name like that!” as the two blonde haired girls fought over the baby’s attention, lighter gently scooped her up into his arms. her happy babbling continued, calling him “dada” in between the incoherent words.

it felt like a dream come true, having her recognize him as her dad. even if not biologically but the sleepless nights, the many mistakes, the never ending crying. the feeling of pride swelled up inside of him, making even the undefeated champion cry. it’s not much now, but he can already see how proud he’ll be when she grows up surrounded by good family that will shower her with all their love.

[throatgoat4u]

that's my spot!

word count: 0.6k

summary: some other hoe who thought she was better than you took your spot on the piano.

warnings: profanities, a girl getting dragged

matt had been paired up with tessa for a project. it was a known fact that tessa has a crush on matt ever since his glow up in sophomore year. but it’s not like matt have a fuck. he already had one lovesick puppy chasing after him, he didn’t need to entertain another.

matt and tessa were in matt’s piano room—him playing the piano and tessa sitting on the lid, her feet dangling. matt wanted to tell her to get off as it felt weird that someone who isn’t you is sitting this, but he instead bit his tongue

tessa—like you—took it upon herself to talk his ear off. usually, he’d find the background noise helpful, but right now, it was anything but that. he found himself continuously hitting the wrong keys or completing blanking out in the middle of a song—even if he knew it like the back of his hand.

a moment later, he heard the door of the room open, though he didn’t really care to look up, assuming it was one of his brothers. but when he heard tessa mumble “not this bitch,” he looked up to see you standing there, looking upset and hurt. when matt’s eyes met yours, you scoffed. how could he? he was your future husband, and you were his future wife! he wasn’t allowed to have another woman there! that was your spot! with a sigh, and tear filled eyes, you turned around on the balls of your gets and left. matt opened his mouth to say something, but you were already gone. tessa looked back at matt with a stupid grin on her face. “finally she’s gone.” she whined, with her stupid high pitched voice that made his ears bleed.

he pressed his lips into a straight line and nodded, though he didn’t agree. he went back to whatever song he had left off on, in hopes of drowning her whiny voice out.

matt was racking his brain for the keys, and notes, and sharps, and flats, and how to play the song in general but that proved to be hard as tessa seemed to overpower the piano with her godawful rambling.

about ten minutes go by and he can’t take it anymore. just as he’s about to say something, the door opens and he sees you walk in, not saying a single word as you walk toward the piano

tessa looks back to see you and she scoffs, following with an eye roll. frustrated that you interrupted her and matt’s “intimate time” she began to speak, “what are you doi-“ but is cut off by a scream as you grabs her by the hair and drag her off the piano.

matt stares at the scene unfolding before him in pure and utter shock (and also a hint of admiration). tessa is punching and kicking at you, screaming obscenities at you, but to no avail. he watches as you disappear out of the room, shutting the door.

“wow… she really does love me. huh.” he mumbles under his breath, a small toothless grin forming on his face. but as soon as you enter the room again, it quickly fell. 

you walked over to the piano, propping yourself onto the lid, dangling your feet off the piano as you began to speak—like you didn’t just drag a girl out of here by her hair.

“matthew you will not believe the day i just had.” you declare in a huff, gesturing your hands around for dramatics.

“yeah?” he quips.

“yeah!” you exclaim

“hm, tell me about it.” 

“well first i…” you go on, rambling about your day starting from the very moment you woke up. matt listens intently as he starts playing again—this time not messing up—hitting every key without much thought. maybe it was tessa’s mindless chattering that was messing him up. maybe it was because it was tessa. maybe it was because it wasn’t you. no one could replace you.

taglist: @sturns-mermaid. @chonicallyalone. @storyteller32. @mattscoquette. @55sturn. @queen-of-beees. @xoxopetalzblog. @lilysturn. @ilavlilpeep. @weepingdelusionobject. @ju2tm30. @funkybananas101. @xxkylie906xx. @courta13. @p3r3j1l. @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan. @ireadtoofast. @rippeanuts1950-2000. @reigengyattataka. @a-s-h-t-o-n. @anime-4-u. @maggot3647. @watercolorskyy. @matthewsturnsgf. @lemonhoney2460. @snoopychris

a/n: whipped this up real quick, so it's not proofread but that's okay! i hope you guys like it! my writing's bad as shit so tips are appreciated (and needed). love yall 💋

toodles sluts :)

[crunchwrapsnoopy]

Don't Call, Don't Text [Tomura Shigaraki x Reader]

↻ ◁ ˚₊ Do I Wanna Know ₊˚ ▷ ↺

"Have you no idea that you're in deep? I dreamt about you nearly every night this week"

drunk msging ur ex on discord >>>> (no use of y/n btw!)

Toxic!Tomura Shigaraki x GN Reader

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WC: 1183

It was late, the only light in your room was the one beating on your face from your monitor. You were just about to shut down your computer for the night to get some much needed rest, when you got a Discord ping out of nowhere, a message lighting up your screen. You froze in your gaming chair upon seeing the name, Shiggy. It had been months since you two had broken up. You’d tried moving on after you moved to a new city, you tried pretending that his chaotic, unsettling presence hadn’t left a somewhat sinister mark on your life. You thought about him sometimes, like when you heard his laugh in a random memory or when you played video games that you used to queue together. You also thought about the tears that streamed down your face often, the nights where he'd ignore you for hours. But that was all in the past. At least, that’s what you’d told yourself. You clicked on his message with a small sigh, and there it was: 

Shiggy (1:09 A.M.) Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? Cause I always do.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. You ran your fingers through your hair, the hair that Tomura makes you want to rip from your scalp, trying to process the words, wondering if you were dreaming or if the alcohol had just given him the courage to send this. Your finger hovered over the keyboard, unsure whether you should respond at all. You hadn’t really heard from him since your messy breakup, the closest you've been to contact has been through his friends, who occasionally send you updates on him. And now here he was, seemingly drunk, sending song lyrics on discord of all places. It was almost laughable. But nonetheless strange. A mix of emotions stirred up inside you—anger, confusion, and, yes, maybe a bit of longing. You remembered when things had been different, when it was all fine. But who wouldn't miss a relationship that lasted for two years, no matter how bad it was? There's always a missing piece now, even if the piece was a jerk from time to time. You took a deep breath and typed a response, still unsure if you should do this to yourself this late at night.

You (1:13 A.M.) Drunk messaging me Arctic Monkeys lyrics on Discord? That's a new one.

Shiggy (1:13 A.M.) They’re your favorite, after all.

You (1:15 A.M.) Oh, so now you remember that?

Your fingers hovered over the keys again as you stared at the screen, feeling a strange pull to his words. He had always been unpredictable��sometimes affectionate, sometimes distant, but always a little bit unpredictable in the way he expressed things. You’d never really understood him fully, and maybe that’s why you were still here, still entertaining the idea of responding to him.

Shiggy (1:17 A.M.) I don’t forget shit like that.

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You hadn’t heard from him in so long. You were not about to let a pathetic drunk text pull you back into whatever you two were. But the strange feeling that lingered in your chest was hard to ignore.

You (1:19 A.M.) If you say so.

Shiggy (1:20 A.M.) I do.

The silence that followed felt heavy, like something was hanging between you two, something unspoken, yet palpable. Your eyes flicked over his message again, the way he seemed so sure of himself, you couldn't physically hear him, but you could definitely make out the raspy, cocky tone that he was trying to convey in his messages.

You (1:22 A.M.) You have some nerve Tomura. It's been months, do you really think I'm gonna come crawling back to you because of some lame messages on Discord?

Shiggy (1:24 A.M.) Look at the guts on you. I don’t think anything. But yeah, I remember what we were. Maybe you do too, deep down.

Your heart gave a sharp thud at his words, and the old ache returned—bittersweet and raw. You remembered it too. The fights, the stolen moments of tenderness. The good and the bad. You weren’t sure if it was worth revisiting, though. Not after everything.

You (1:26 A.M.) I do remember but it’s not that simple. You know that.

Shiggy (1:27 A.M.) Never said it was.

The honesty in his response caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were quiet, staring at the screen. You hated how he always seemed to have a way of cutting through your defenses.

You (1:30 A.M.) What do you want, Tomura?

Shiggy (1:32 A.M.) What do you think I want?

The implication hung there between the words, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to all the things you knew he was capable of. He had a way of doing things, a way of manipulating your emotions, he could destroy everything and still somehow leave you with a strange sense of wanting more.

You (1:34 A.M.) You can’t just show up like this. I'm not gonna be just some drunk text to you.

Shiggy (1:36 A.M.) I’m not asking you to be. And you know damn well you're more than a drunk text. I'm just… trying to talk ig.

The simplicity of his message was almost disarming, and you couldn’t quite tell if he was being genuine or just trying to string you along, mess with your head. But there was that lingering part of you, the one that still missed him, the one that longed for the connection, even if it was fleeting.

You (1:38 A.M.) Why now?

Shiggy (1:39 A.M.) Why not? I miss you.

Your fingers trembled as you typed your next response, unsure whether you wanted to open this door again, but knowing deep down that the curiosity was eating away at you.

You (1:41 A.M.) I don’t know if I can go back to that, Tomura.

Shiggy (1:42 A.M.) I’m not asking you to come back. Just wanted you to know that I miss you.

You didn’t know if he was telling the truth, or if it was just the alcohol talking. But part of you wondered if, deep down, he wanted to fix things, or if he was just trying to have control over something, anything, after all this time. Maybe you could never know the full truth, and maybe that was the most frustrating part of it all.

Your mind was racing now, trying to decide if you should keep this conversation going. Should you close it off, or leave it open, just a crack, to see where it would lead?

You (1:45 A.M.) Maybe it’s better if we just leave things as they are.

Shiggy (1:46 A.M.) Maybe. But you’re not gonna stop thinking about it, are you?

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[vijaxx]

never felt so alone

summary: months after you got jumped, everything comes back when the girl who jumped you talks to your best friend

warnings: angst, fluff, semi graphic descriptions of being jumped, comfort, sadness, dealing with trauma (physically and mentally)

the footsteps echoed as she ran up to you. you couldn’t figure out what was about to happen. you didn’t have time. you’ve never been in a fight before. you hadn’t interacted with this girl for weeks. why was she going to do this?

her strong hands grabbed on your curls and handle of your backpack, shoving you harshly on the ground. dazed and confused, you curled up instinctively, body shaking as she grabs your bag again and kicks you. not with the intent to leave bruises. or at least, not when she was being recorded.

she kicked you and screamed at you, all while you tried to understand what was going on.

“shut the camera off!” she screeched at the person recording, who quickly complied, holding her bag for her.

she made quick time of actually kicking you, before getting bored. this had been planned.

she was close behind you since you left school. her house was close by so she could run, and it was a very busy street.

as she picked up your backpack, she threw you off of the curb, trying to gather your thoughts as she kicked you into the street with only one intention.

she wanted to kill you. she wanted you to die at that very moment, to get hit by a car.

and a couple minutes once she came, she left. like nothing had happened. and your best friend watched the whole thing.

now, three months later, she was trying to reach your best friend. she needed to talk to her.

a sick, uneasy feeling pooled in your stomach, tears brimming in your eyes as you remember how the video went viral. it went through your school district and then spread to others. walking through the halls two days after as people laughed and said comments like “fucking pussy”, or “i wish they actually got hit by a car”.

the sting of losing all of your friends, ones who you trusted with your life, smirking and saying how they wished you were killed.

it was you, your best friend, and billie.

“baby”, billie said, placing a hand on your thigh. “what’s going on? you’re zoning out. you didn’t even answer me when i asked if you wanted to have japanese food tonight. and that’s your favorite!” her blue eyes made gentle, yet powerful contact with yours, a way of saying, “don’t bullshit me, something’s wrong” but also “i’m here for you. i’m your girlfriend”.

you hugged your knees against your chest, sighing as you looked at the texts. “she wants to talk to isla.” you said, spoken monotonely but carrying a hint of worry and sadness. billie didn’t even need to ask who you were referencing, she knew it was the girl who jumped you.

billie never liked the girl, but she soon despised her with her entire being once she put a finger on you, her entire heart made of malice when it came to her.

her gaze softened, her fingertips lightly brushing against her palm as a way to say, “may i hold you?”. you leaned into her embrace.

her arms were shaky as she tried to wrap you in a comforting cocoon while staying acutely aware of the reflexes the acknowledgment of the trauma brought.

you sobbed lightly into her shirt as she hummed her songs to you, comfortably gliding her hand down your spine, smiling at the way you shivered when she touched you so intametely.

after fifteen minutes of crying, she cupped your cheeks and kissed your dried tears, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, your swollen, puffy, and pink eyelids closing as you melted into her.

“i won’t let anything happen to you.”

and you began to believe her.

a/n: hi this is a very personal story because this is based on my life. this is a real event that happened to me, and i had warned staff and administrators of hate crime threats being thrown my way, never being taken seriously. then, after actually being hate crimed, the never sought justice for me. i hope you enjoyed the fic <3

taglist: @47lake @hkkuugu @st0nerIesb0 @n0vabug @everythingtruly @darkside-0f-the-sun @vyntagess

[raingoddess214]

Editors Analysis

*Cautiously strolls in with some tissues, blankets, plushies, snacks, and my dog*

Heyyyyy guys....how's everyone doing after my edit? 😅

But seriously though, I know it was a bit on the somber side compared to the usual humorous antics I post, so I hope that the warnings I put on the bottom were a solid heads up for everyone.

*Also, I get it; I cried while thinking about this in the shower and then was holding back tears as I was editing 😭*

So, as a bit of a bonus, I'm just gonna jot down some notes about the video I edited and how it portrays Holmes/Watsons friendship, plus other little references I tried to incorporate.

...ehhh I guess just call them bonus facts to not over complicate things.

BONUS FACTS

- The song Sonya Alone is from the musical The Great Comet of 1812. The version I pulled is from the 2016 version with Brittain Ashford.

*Ugh the emotion she puts in this song is incredible please check out her other stuff 🙏*

- So, when I first heard the lyrics, I know you've forgotten me, I was originally thinking it from Watsons perspective. It's a common trope for Holmes to hide things from him for the benefit of the case (Empty house, Dying Detective, Reigate Squire, etc.). However, I switched it around to Holmes perspective because it makes sense for the final problem (even though Watson didn't forget him because he looks back as he's leaving 😭)

- But either way the next line, I know you so well my friend, is perfect because he's not mad at Watson for leaving. Holmes knew that Watson is such a kind-hearted person and very constant in his beliefs ("You are a fixed point in a changing age" - Holmes in the last bow). So of course, he expected Watson to go, he knows him so well.

I know you might just throw yourself over, but I won't let you.

I won't.

Let you.

Oof. Okay this was a gut puncher

Watson was always loyal to a fault around Holmes. And the one time he lets his guard down is when Holmes *presumably* plummets to his death. And it's all on him.

Also, the person Watson sees during the And if I never sleep again part is Moriarty. Not Holmes. So that just adds to the guilt even more because he could've addressed the root of the problem...the final problem....

And then the next few lines in the chorus are paired with a flashback scene, and the lyrics hit so hard with Watsons character like damn

I will stand in the dark for you

I will hold you back by force

I will stand here right outside your door

I won't see you disgraced

And as the clips progress, we see Holmes slowly becoming more undone and withdrawn, to the point that he walks away from Watson entirely.

But Watson. Doesn't. Leave. He doesn't abandon Holmes to find another flatmate. Instead, he stays, keeps him company, picks up the pieces, stays as that constant in his life so Holmes doesn't self-sabotage himself, like a true friend would ("To me, the Sherlock Holmes stories are about a great friendship... " - Jeremy Brett).

Which makes Watsons declaration to Holmes in final problem hurt even more.

I won't leave you Holmes...not unless you order me to go.

....And then he left....

And the guilt that Watson feels haunts him. For years. He could've stayed, he could've known the sick note was fake, he could've recognized Moriarty, he could've stayed. If Watson had just done enough, then Holmes would've been saved.

But what Watson doesn't realize is that his decisions did save Holmes. Because as much as Holmes haunts Watson, Watson does the same to Holmes through the inner turmoil Holmes feels of letting Watson into his life or not.

Watsons actions could've led to Holmes's death, but Watson actually saved him by giving him a reason to live.

Watson wasn't there physically, but he was there, by his side, keeping him company, picking up the pieces, he did stay.

And Holmes does come back to Watson... but this time with open arms ❤️

I'm sorry.

CONTENT WARNING: References to death and drug use

Song: Sonya Alone by Brittain Ashford

Contains Spoilers from The Final Problem and The Empty House

[luigibigeater]

running on e / pt. 2

--- luigi breaks into the wrong apartment ---

notes: not sure how many parts this will end up being but I'm having so much fun drawing it out :)) might end up giving this more of a plot than I initially intended to as we go on. as always, your feedback, thoughts, and whatnot are much appreciated.

warnings: gun play, edging, super slight consent play, one tiny mention of blood, sub!luigi but also dom!luigi cause who can pick just one!

“It’s kinda fucked up how much you seem to like shoving that in my mouth, you know,” Luigi taunts as he stands slowly, towering above the girl where she remains seated, hands halfway raised as if only partially convinced that he might be in any real danger. “You might wanna, like, talk to a professional about that."

“Do you think I’m fucking playing with you?” She kills the safety audibly, cocking the weapon. 

“Now take your fucking clothes off. Slowly. Starting with that shirt,” the girl demands as she settles back in her chair and back into the more dominant role. 

“Getting shot would be the least of my problems,” he murmurs testily beneath his breath as he begins to undress. “What was that?” the girl retorts, leaning forward. 

Sirens erupt in the distance and Luigi flinches, freezing with his shirt only halfway off as if intentionally teasing her with just a taste of that firmly structured abdomen. He stays that way, trembling almost imperceptibly, until the foreboding song has drained from earshot. The girl remains quiet, patient. She understands. 

The sun has mostly left the wintry city outside, plunging the room in a blue glow that only adds to the drama of their scene. When Luigi finally tears his eyes from the window to look back at the girl there is a tinge of apology in his expression. The pair breathe in unison.

“Can- can you at least tell me your name?” Luigi asks with a new edge of shaky uncertainty. The girl can detect that he’s lost the plot, been wrenched back to the shallows of cruel reality, and lost his previously eager submission to her. She empathizes but takes her time weighing potential responses all the same. Something in her wants to maintain anonymity just a little longer, wants him to earn her name. But she can also sense his current vulnerability, his need to be soothed by some kind of human connection, be it false or transactional.

“Ok, for now, let’s say my name is…Deny,” she finally replies and it’s so corny that she can’t help but phrase it like a question. He snorts almost immediately, all the warmth returning to his demeanor as he takes his shirt the rest of the way off.

“That is so fucking dumb. Deny?”

“It’s not dumb, it’s just…on the nose,” the girl, Deny, insists, reaching up to graze the gun against his attractive nosebridge to emphasize her point.

“Deny. Deny? Deny, it’s okay, I guess it could almost be a name. For now—”

“Luigi,” all humor falls from Deny’s face as she regains her sternness, shooting a pointed look at the waistband of his jeans. 

“Right, I’m sorry…Deny.” Luigi stifles his cocky laughter as his hands fumble excitedly with the clasp and zipper. Then, standing before her with his boxers doing little to hide his arousal, it takes a second intentionally narrow-eyed look for him to realize that she’d asked him to undress fully.

Deny stands as Luigi removes the last article of clothing and she keeps the gun trained on him despite the exhilaration that is stifling all rational thought inside her. She takes a few steps back so she can see all of him at once.

“Good?” He asks smugly and his voice shakes her from the trancelike state.

“Put your fucking hands on your head. And walk. I don’t wanna hear your voice again until I tell you you can speak.”

A few silent minutes later, Luigi is splayed out in a tub of warm bubbly water with his wrists bound yet again, this time behind his head. Deny sits on her knees atop a bathmat, the gun resting on the closed toilet lid, caressing his body with a washcloth, tormenting him with her intentionally light hand. She touches him, cleans him, everywhere except where he wants it most and the subtle ways his body betrays his desire only serve to inflame her more: the jerky clench of his musculature, the cutting inhales, the sultry bronze eyes that whine and plead wordlessly. Deny can feel his gaze boring into her but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back, biding her time. 

“So, you do weird shit like this with a lotta guys or—?” Luigi finally breaks. Deny slaps the washcloth down beside her with force and finally grabs his bulge beneath the water with both her hands, each focused on pleasuring a different part. From there she starts to stroke him deftly at an insistently even pace.

“Fuuuuuck.” Luigi’s composure is shattered and his skull hits the tiles audibly as he arches his back to meet her fists. Though initially relieved at the satisfaction of being touched where he needed most, Luigi starts to panic at how quickly he nears release. 

“Uh, um, fuck, no, hang on. Mmm, my God, no, no, wait, you’re gonna make me cum way too fast. Stop, stop, shit, stop.” He splashes water about messily in an attempt to dodge her rhythmic hands. Deny indeed denies, pulling her hands from him just seconds before he can finish. But as soon as she does so, he���s crying out in frustration and looking at her angrily. 

“What? You told me to stop, I stopped,” Deny spits and he glowers. “What, baby?” She says it softer this time, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “What? You didn’t want me to stop?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know, I don’t know,” he looks at her expectantly, as if attempting to communicate his wants psychically. 

“You’re being shy all the sudden, what is it?” Deny can’t help but smile at just how submissive Luigi really is proving to be for her at this moment. He gazes at her luridly through heavy-lidded eyes, lips glistening with saliva, like he’s finally ready to obey. “You like pretending you don’t want this, huh, that what it is? Acting like it’s so, so fucked up to let a stranger use you?”

“It is so, so fucked up,” Luigi manages, his voice already raspy, lusty. 

“Okay, fine, it’s too fucked up for you? Fine. We can just sit here and stare at the wall together until the cops show up,” Deny crosses her arms on her chest and rests her weight against the toilet bowl. A beat of thoughtful silence passes, Luigi sulking. 

“I’ve just never done anything like this. Like fucked this way, I mean, or been fucked this way.” Luigi pouts and she can tell he’s embarrassed. He swallows thickly before continuing, “I’ve never, like, not been in charge. Didn’t think I’d like it. But now, here with you, I guess, I don’t know, I really fucking like it. I don’t know why it feels so hard to admit.”

“So would you like to keep talking about it? Or would you like me to do this?” Deny wraps one hand loosely around his cock as if she doesn’t care, fondling him lazily, and he releases a drawn out noise halfway between a hum and a growl.

“I just—oh, fuck, ugh—I just don’t get your fucking obsession with torturing me. Like, hmmm, oh God, most girls just want me to fuck them the minute my pants come off.”

“I mean, yeah, I can see why,” Deny snickers, intensifying her grip and pace in a way that makes him hiss. “But doesn’t it feel so good to have to work for what you want? If anyone could understand that, it’s you. Besides, if you’re patient, you’ll get to fuck the shit out of me later.”

“Ugh, yes, fuck, it feels really fucking good, you’re right. To—fuck—ing—earn—your—pussy,” Luigi struggles to articulate himself through the tides of his pleasure. As he gets harder and harder, closer and closer for a second time to what he knows will be a gut-wrenching orgasm, he starts to lean his head toward Deny, tongue swatting across his lips as if to call her attention to them. 

“What else do you wanna earn, huh?” Deny taunts, catching on to his craving right away. “My mouth?” She whispers, before pushing her lips against his jugular where she plants a soothing kiss before nipping him with her incisors. Luigi moans loudly at that, pelvis stuttering in a way that suggests he’s mere seconds from unravelling. Deny cruelly releases his cock again, this time pressing her wet hands to his cheeks and drawing his face to hers forcefully for a kiss that borders on cannibalism. The noises he makes against her are keen, his cock so wet and hard that it slaps his stomach audibly, and she’s pleased.

“You’re so fucking mean,” he whines when she finally draws back to take in his flushed face, the twin birthmarks dotting each cheek, the sultry brown iris seeping from his blown out pupils. 

“I’m mean? You must really want me to stop then, huh, baby?” She rubs the bridge of his nose with the tip of her own, the proximity allowing her to really enjoy the full breadth of each of his sounds. 

“No, please, I really don’t want you to stop this time, please,” Luigi begs and Deny relishes in how unabashed he is, finally submitting himself fully to her. He is brave, she thinks, smirking as the water sloshes where he bucks his hips, cock gaining friction against nothing but lavender-scented soap bubbles.

“Hm. Not convincing,” Deny leans fully away to Luigi’s blatant dismay. 

“Fuck, please? Please, please, please,” he draws the last one out, brows scrunching together pathetically. She just sits back, biding her time, relishing in his pleas. “How many fucking times do I have to ask? I said please. Now I get why you gave yourself that dumb fucking nickname. Was that your way of telling me you were gonna do this? God, fuck, you’re fucking crazy, so fucking crazy. Please. Do I have to say it in another language, huh? Dai, toccami, per favore, per favore, non riesco, per favore…”

“I’m really enjoying this,” Deny giggles and Luigi lets out a frustrated grunt, hips still churning, his cock protruding angrily from the foamy water.

“You think I can’t tell that you’re fucking enjoying this? Fucking psycho. I mean, fuck, sorry, sorry, just please? I’m sorry for talking shit, I’m sorry for breaking the lock on your window, I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I just need you to make me cum so bad right now, I’m actually going fucking crazy. So, please, per favore, whatever, just fucking touch me—”

Luigi’s agonized expressions—and his whole being, actually—is like a sexed-up hypnotist’s spiral, luring Deny in, tempting her to break her dominant facade. And finally she relents, working his cock so deftly, desperately, with both hands that he cums in record time, so hard that it hits her bottom lip and soils her tank top. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” is all he can muster between animalistic groans, pulling so hard against the rope that his wrists are speckled with a tiny bit of blood. “What the fuck?” He adds after his breath has evened enough that he can speak coherently. 

“You’re lucky you kidnapped someone who can handle your crazy ass cause…I’m on some…real Italian stallion shit…” Luigi jokes, biting his lip sarcastically for the punchline. 

The pair’s eyes meet and they both split instantly with incessant laughter that says more than words can.

“I can’t believe— how fucking good that felt,” Luigi mumbles, still panting slightly. 

“Oh, yeah?” Deny reaches over to open the drain and then raises herself up shakily to fetch a towel from the bathroom door, wiping his cum off on her hand but not before trying just a lick of it while her back is turned. 

“Yeah,” Luigi clips and Deny is startled when she looks back to see him already on his feet, hands freed from their constraints, reaching for his gun. “You’re really fucking bad at tying me up, you know that?” 

“Hm, I guess,” Deny murmurs, pressing her back to the opposite wall and clutching the towel to her chest as he takes hold of the weapon. 

“You not gonna bring that over here for me?” Luigi flicks his chin toward the towel, brows raised, voice still fucked-out.

“Mmm, I dunno,” she lets out shakily, her chest heaving, some of his cum still glistening at her collarbone. Deny’s not afraid of him, not really. But she can sense that Luigi likes these games just as much as she does.

“Just bring it here,” he tries to make his voice gentle, holding out the hand that isn’t around the gun.

Deny only sinks further into the wall, pushing her bottom lip out slightly, shaking her head no petulantly. He takes one step out of the tub and she forces herself to flinch. Luigi simpers ever so slightly and she can almost hear the internal conflict unfolding in that mind of his. 

Please, don’t kill me, please, don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel! Deny thinks, praying that if her acting isn’t convincing enough maybe he’ll be able to read her thoughts the way she sometimes thinks she can read his. 

“Fuck, you’re fucking looking at me like, hmmm, I don’t know,” Luigi’s eyes darken and something feral seems to overtake him as his cock twitches with interest yet again between his thighs. “You’re looking at me like I’m gonna hurt you.” 

That’s it, Deny thinks, blinking pitifully up at him, come and get me. She acts fast, throwing open the bathroom door and sprinting to her bedroom, making a show of not being able to shut herself inside in time. 

Luigi captures her almost instantly, one arm like binding at her waist, the other in a chokehold around her neck. His cock is hard against her and so is the pistol pressing into her shoulder. 

They find themselves in a familiar predicament, braced before the mirror, breathing furiously as their reflections absorb each other. Luigi’s nostrils flare when he recognizes that taunting glimmer in Deny’s eyes.

“I knew you’d fucking like that,” she rasps out, voice impeded partially by the pressure he applies to her neck. 

“Fuck you. I’m not a bad person. Fuck you,” Luigi cuts as if trying to reassure himself more than her, his voice plumbing new depths. 

“No?” Deny sneers, just to test his limits. 

“No. No. You fucking know I’m not. But you also know I give people what they fucking deserve. And you know what you deserve right now?” His low snarl against her ear makes her so desperate for him that she’s clenching her thighs. 

“Hm?” Deny moans breathily as she attempts to merge her every atom with his.

“Get on the bed and find out.”

[leslietheluna]

✨"Never forget your dreams!"✨

Puyo puzzle pop my beloved🥺

[Also- here's a Timelapse! If I recall correctly, total time I spent on this was 10 hours😭]

[starbuck]

“No, I don’t want news… There’s no news about this song.”

— John Darnielle while attempting to google the lyrics to “Store” on an audience member’s phone

[skyxfullofmuses]

Cora asked for a bottle of water, and when the bottle was handed to her, she took it and took a sip, then looked at Jeremy as he approached her.

She smiled at him and felt a sense of relief that he still was there.

"Its one of my more popular ones. Usually the regulars request it." She explained to him. She chewed her lip a little. "I'm glad you like it." She then added. "It was... kind of inspired by you. First thing I wrote after we broke up" She said softly.

She took another sip of her water and wondered what to say, she took another breath and looked up into his eyes "It was the hardest thing I ever wrote, but every word of it was true. It was like every emotion poured into those lyrics. And I sing it so often, that it feels almost natural to say those words over and over again, but seeing you here, and saying them out loud in front of you makes it all feel a little raw again." She admitted. "And please don't think thats me telling you to leave, I don't want you to leave, I couldn't bear it if you left me." She said honestly. "I mean.... its good that once again I feel those emotions with that song, because i really do mean them." She said softly.

"You were my biggest happiness in life Jeremy, and my biggest regret. I don't ever regret being with... I regret how we ended, and I know I should of been honest with you, but I was scared of the truth, that if I admitted all that, that I wasn't good enough, that my job was something to be ashamed of, then you might of seen it too." She said.

"I didn't want to be stripper.. It was a way to survive." She told him.

Tears began to fill her eyes. "All I have dreamt of, since the day we got together, was to have a future, to have a family. But I couldn't do that in that job, I couldn't be that person at that time. So I thought I was doing what was best for not only me.... but for you. So you could have that with someone you didn't have to lie to your parents about." She breathed.

"And I know I tod you most of that this morning, but that song, its everything I felt after we broke up. How I knew it felt like the right thing, but I regretted hurting you the way I did, and that my heart will always be yours and that one day, I hope you could forgive me." She told him.

She knew it wasn't exactly the right place to talk about this, but the song had brought up so much for her.

She knew, looking up at him, that the song still stood. That she did still love him. Never Stopped. But she also knew it was possible that he had fully moved on. So all she could hope for, was his forgiveness.

Happy she’d noticed him in the crowd, he smiled at her and held her gaze. There seemed to be something there. Something similar to what it felt like stealing glances at her back when they barely knew each other. And one day, they’d finally shared a moment. A moment that led to many more. All these feelings were about to resurface when all he wanted was to bury them so deep so they wouldn’t hurt but the second song hit him hard, sending them flying all over.

By the time she was done, more questions invaded his mind. He’d never heard that song before but it seemed like it’d been written about his life, more precisely about his breakup with Cora. Was it a coincidence or did she decide to sing this particular song because he was supposed to be here tonight? Jeremy shook his head. Just wishful thinking on his part. He’d hurt her so why would she feel this way? Why would she still feel this way? Although… she seemed emotional while on stage… but maybe she was just feeling the song like the artist that she was. He was questioning everything right now, torn between bringing it up keeping it himself but his train of thought was interrupted when the thunderous applause brought him back to reality, prompting him to clap as well.

His gaze was still on her, wondering what the hell was going on, as she walked toward the bar. Today had been intense and as he caught her gaze, he realized that it was probably far from over. He stood, made his way toward her and leaned in the bar. “That was amazing, Cora. I think you killed me with that song”. Still, he offered a small smile.

[indecisive-dizzy]

crying over all the dirt on DJ Music Man again,,,

He just- SNIFF SOB He deserves to be clean and shiny like everyone elseeee waaaaaaahhhhgahhdjaa UGLY SOBBING 😭😭😭

Me with the biggest bucket and towel I could find with a small army of mop bots also holding buckets of water, towels, and soap.

Me: tears in my eyes, "Please- 🥺"

DJMM: ????