#Also all of you fuckers saying sex is shallow. Have never had sex with someone you genuinely love--and it shows

[oblivions-dawn]

Korrasami didn't hold hands just so everyone could keep shoving "gay" men down my fucking throat in an animated show with LESBIAN SEX and these tags should be fucking louder about it

Genuine Question

[itwasthereaminuteago]

¦¦ 14. Lovebites ¦¦

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Michael Kinsella x female reader

Warnings: biting! Cunnilingus, fingering, sexy sex, possessiveness, some fluff!

Author’s note: I don't know why, he just strikes me as the possessive type. It's always the quiet ones...

You close the door as quietly as you can when you return home earlier than you expected from a night out in the town. It was just a few drinks with the girls, but some rowdy lads in the last pub had started trying to talk to you despite you all trying your utmost to ignore their unwelcome creepy flirty advances.

They were all full of liquid confidence, letching and leering over you, one of them in particular getting far too close and handsy with you no matter how many times you said no and moved away. Finally, it got to be too much and you ended up smashing the fella in the face with your fist, earning a cheer from the rest of the pub but also leaving you with bruised knuckles.

You were just going to come home, sneak into bed and worry about explaining it to Michael in the morning.

But no such luck…

"Hey love, you're home early. Did ya have a good night?" He asks, reaching for you.

You quickly and subtly slip your arms around his neck so he doesn't see the evidence of the night's drama.

"Aye it was alright, just a bit tired y'know. Thought you'd be late over at Jimmy's as well?"

"Ach he was bein' an arse and I'd had enough so…" he kisses you softly, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. "besides, means an early night for us both, pet? Can't say I'm upset about it." 

He smiles warmly and you let him lead you to your bedroom. You're kind of glad he was at home when you got back, after the night you had you really could use something to take your mind off it, and you always felt safe with Michael.

He backs you up to the edge of the mattress, soft lips and the brush of his beard on your cheek and neck making you giggle as you flump down on the bed. You push up the hem of his shirt and he takes your hint, peeling it off so you can appreciate his well-muscled physique. You forget yourself as your hands automatically move to touch, and he grabs them, noticing the redness on your right hand. You flinch at the fresh pain and his eyes bore into yours.

"What happened?"

You shook your head, "it's nothin' Mikey, don't worry." 

Of course he's not convinced. His brow furrows even deeper. "Someone hurt ya darlin'? C'mon an tell me now."

"No it's alright, it's sorted. Just some lads were annoyin' me an the girls. They wouldn't take the bloody hint so I punched one of em." 

"Fuckin' hell love! Is that right?" He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your sore knuckles.

You nod and smirk, pleased you were able to stand up for yourself and that Michael was obviously proud of you for doing so.

"Let me get some ice for ya…"

You shake your head and stop him. "No s'alright, just a bit achy is all."

"So I don't need t'kill any of these fuckers then?" He jokes, but you know he would in a heartbeat. You pull him close again, your hands smoothing over his chest to try calm down the protective and possessive urge that you knew had been struck up within him. It never took much to get him riled when you were concerned.

"No it's alright baby, just need you, here. Now."

"Yeah, can do that…" He swiftly aids you in removing your clothes, his hungry mouth tasting every bare bit of skin as it's revealed, laying you down on the bed and roaming over and claiming every inch of you. A yelp turns into a moan as he sucks a bruising mark into the skin of your neck.

"Mikey!" 

"You're mine, alright? Need you to know that love," you gasp as he moves down, his eyes darker now, his fingers grabbing and pressing into your soft flesh. "All of you, fuckin' mine." he growls, nipping your collarbone and leaving a mark there too. "S'only me that gets to touch ya, only me that gets to mark ya up… ain't it pet?"

Your breaths are shallow now, whimpers of agreement woven through them as Michael leaves his literal mark on you, working on letting everyone know exactly who you belong to. 

"Yeah," you moan as he's between your bare legs biting into the soft sensitive flesh there. He rakes his nails with just the right amount of pressure over your outer thigh as his mouth sucks and licks leaving a path of purpling blotches leading towards your cunt. He holds you down with a quiet strength that has you aching for him. Before you're able to beg for more he's sucking your clit between his soft full lips making you buck your hips up towards his face with high wavering whimpers. His fingers breach your dripping entrance and he looks up to watch your face contort in needy bliss as he starts pumping them in and out of you. 

"Michael, fuck, I want you. Need you."

He hums and crooks his fingers a little, rubbing over the spot that makes you gasp, makes you wetter, makes you lose control.

"Yeah? Wan me to fuck ya, love?" His voice is raw and dark with desire. "Are ye wantin' m'cock stuffed in that pretty, wet cunt?"

"Yes, oh god Mikey please!" you plead, whining as he withdraws from where you need him most. Your hands curl around the back of his neck as he moves up your body, he grips his cock, smacking the head against your clit a few times and leaning down to suck another harsh vivid mark on the other side of your neck. The room fills with your shared moans as he sinks into you, and you wrap your legs around him as he thrusts hard and deep.

You'll proudly wear the evidence of his ownership if you get to feel like this, but despite the possessive bites and words he's not just fucking you senseless. It's passionate, ensuring that you know just how much he fucking loves you, showing you with every touch, kiss, and the way he moves within you. When you come he's watching you, awestruck, doing everything he can to prolong your high before he follows, marking you up from the inside. 

Afterwards, you close your eyes, smiling softly as he kisses so tenderly over every single mark he's left on the canvas of your body. 

[dxrkdreamer]

Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

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

“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

[gaysidneycrosby]

the time is here. i have actually written something for Thee stoner cas/tour guide dean destiel midwestern college AU. endless thanks to @pietacastiel for lots of help and inspiration and general clownery <3 

this is some of the first non-academic writing of done (and definitely the first i’ve shared) since i was in like middle school, so hopefully i’ve improved since my days of writing stories in the back of my math notebook when i was 12.

content note: recreational drug use (marijuana)

dean and castiel have been hanging out for a few months now. cas is a weirdo, but dean kind of really likes it. also: dean has freckles and cas is fascinated.

“I think I’m done,” Dean mutters, handing the bowl back to Cas. He’d probably never admit it out loud, because Cas makes fun of him for it enough as is, but he still doesn’t have much of a tolerance for this stuff. He stares at the curtain for a minute, a little bit mesmerized as it sways in the breeze from the open window. He’s never quite able to describe what it feels like when he’s been smoking, like the world is going in slow-motion and super speed all at once. Completely normal things seem strange all of a sudden, and...but, no, that’s not quite...ugh. Dean shakes himself out of his reverie and leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes until he hears a soft noise and looks to see Cas turned towards him. 

Cas peers at him and tilts his head, eyes squinting like he’s trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. Somehow the guy manages to be even more intense while he’s high, if that’s possible--his stare pins Dean in place even as it makes his heart stutter in his chest with the need to run away or punch Cas or something. Dean coughs uncomfortably.

“Uh,” he chuckles, “I got something on my face?”

Cas’s eyes flick up to meet Dean’s, and Dean realizes that Cas hadn’t actually been looking in his eyes before. Jesus, the dude’s eyes are stupid blue. He rolls his eyes and Dean’s question is ignored in favor of continuing to stare at...well, something on his face, Dean guesses. Cas hasn’t smoked that much and he can handle a lot more than Dean, though; he’s just kind of like that all the time. It’d weirded Dean out at first and kinda still does, but he’s used to it. He carefully doesn’t look too closely at the way it makes him feel to have Cas focus so much of his attention on him.

Cas continues to look, and finally Dean breaks. “No, seriously, dude, what is it?” 

Cas meets his gaze again, eyes piercing. “You have freckles,” he says solemnly, the couple of hits he’d taken off the bowl making his voice even more gravelly than it usually is. 

“I...have freckles.” Dean raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Okay?”

“They’re very interesting,” Cas confirms. He leans in so their faces are only a few inches apart. Dean swallows. “Some are more prominent and others are much more transparent. It’s like they’re in layers. They’re very close to your skin color so I didn’t notice them immediately.”

“...Right,” Dean mutters. His skin feels somehow like there’s a low-grade current running through it. “Thanks?”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Cas says absently. From anyone else, Dean would be insulted, but by now he knows that’s just Cas’ weird way of talking. Cas bites his lip and squints even harder for a moment before huffing a sigh. Dean feels the puff of air on his cheek. 

He swallows again. His mouth feels dry. “What?”

“There are too many.” Cas looks genuinely distressed. “I can’t...They blend together too much in some places, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep an accurate count.” 

“It’s, uh, it’s okay, man. They’re not going anywhere.” Cas nods gravely, like the reassurance is important, and Dean can’t suppress a smile. Cas is a fucking weirdo, and like, crazy intense sometimes, but he’s also--he’s just a cool dude to be around. Dean never really knows what to expect, whether Cas is going to touch his shoulder and scold him for thinking too poorly of himself or threaten to egg Dean’s car if Dean doesn’t drive him forty-five minutes away to the nearest Dunkin Donuts at 10:30pm on a Tuesday. Being around Cas feels different, too. Dean is somehow both ridiculously tense and more comfortable than he ever feels around anyone else. Still, strange as it may be, Cas is a good buddy, and Dean’s kind of stupidly fond of him. 

Dean realizes that he and Cas have been staring at each other in silence with this dumb smile on Dean’s face for long enough that it’s probably strange. He starts to turn away but Cas catches him with a gentle hand on his cheek and he leans into the touch involuntarily. For such a little guy, Cas has big hands. Soft, too. Dean realizes that his hand must have come up instinctively to hold onto Cas’ forearm. Not gripping tightly, just--anchoring there. Dean feels simultaneously high out of his mind and stone-cold sober.

Cas hums, thumb brushing over Dean’s jawline. 

A beat. 

“They’re more concentrated on your nose,” Cas rumbles. He uses the hand on Dean’s face to turn him to the left a little bit.

“What, looking for constellations?” Dean smiles cheekily, trying to distract himself from the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his shallow breaths. 

Cas tilts his head and squints at Dean. Again. “They’re freckles, not stars. There’s certainly no discernable pattern,” he says, with an undercurrent of judgment, as if Dean should know this already.  Ugh. Endearing little fucker.

The hand on Dean’s face shifts, and Cas’ fingertips just barely skim Dean’s skin as he drops his hand. It’s probably just his imagination, but it feels like Dean’s skin tingles where Cas had been touching it. Dean lets go of Cas’ arm.

There’s another moment’s pause where Cas seems to sway closer and Dean can feel his breath on his cheek once again.

“I want raisins.”

Dean blinks, then blinks some more. “You want raisins,” he parrots. 

“Yes.” Cas doesn’t deign to elaborate before he’s up and off the bed, walking out the door presumably to retrieve said raisins from the kitchen.

All of Dean’s breath leaves him in a gust once Cas is out of the room. That was...something. He moves to sit up more against the wall, then startles and glances down at his crotch and realizes that at some point during that interaction he’d gotten hard. Huh. Well, he rationalizes to himself, most of the time when he’s that close to someone it’s a chick he’s about to have sex with, and his body just doesn’t know any better. Weird, but no big deal. Obviously it doesn’t mean anything, since Cas is a dude. 

Dean slumps against the pillows, eyes feeling a little heavy. Cas won’t mind if he dozes a little. He’s done it before--once the first wave of the high hits him, unless he smokes more, Dean tends to get really sleepy. He smiles to himself. Cas is so cool. What a weird little dude, is his last coherent thought before he drifts off.

[crybabykiko]

Tetsuro Kuroo: NSFW Alphabet

Since I got at least THREE separate requests for this as a part of my 200 event (and I’m literally 1 away from 300???? how???), I’ve decided to add these gems as an XXXtra Special (laugh with me) piece to celebrate! Thank you SO much for following and enjoying my work! ❤️You can find the full alphabet prompt list here. Creds to @fairy-tail-babes​ for creating it! 

𝔄 = 𝔄𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢

He’s the sweetest after he’s gone particularly hard on you. He loves to baby you, telling you how good you were for him. He also won’t let you go anywhere by yourself- he insists on carrying you wherever you want to go in the house. He also always has your favorite food or snack ready to go, and always lets you pick the movie.

𝔅 = 𝔅𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

He fixates on the faces you make. Particularly the look in your eyes. Your expression tells him how he’s making you feel, and he’s an expert at reading you. He likes to stare into your eyes while you have sex, and always encourages you to keep your eyes open and look back at him.

ℭ = ℭ𝔲𝔪

Oh he likes to cum in your mouth- no, he LOVES it. Kuroo has an oral fixation, so he likes to see himself drip onto your tongue as he towers over you while you’re on your knees.

𝔇 = 𝔇𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱

He hasn’t gotten it done because he’s scared you won’t like it, but he’s seriously considered getting his dick pierced. He doesn’t want to bring it up because he’s thorouhgly convinced you’d hate it.

𝔈 = 𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

He knows a lot. Not necesarily from his OWN experience, but simply because he’s a smarty pants. He will literally research things you bring up, finding the best products or methods to make your experience the most pleasurable possible.  this is the one good thing abiut him being a fckn nerd...

𝔉 = 𝔉𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔓𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

I truly don’t think he has one! He likes anything that makes him look strong/sexy and that’s everything.... have you seen his abs/arms/back?!?! But I will say he is a VERY visual lover, so he does enjoy positioning you in front of a mirror and having the both of you watch him take you.

𝔊 = 𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔣𝔶

He laughs at you struggling against him. He thinks its funny that you think you stand a chance against him, when you both know you’re completely at his mercy.

ℌ = ℌ𝔞𝔦𝔯

He’s pretty well groomed. The carpet definitely matches the drapes. He doesn’t shave, but instead he opts to trim every once in awhile when he feels like its a little overgrown. But what’s important is that its clean. He’s very particular about that.

ℑ = ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔶

There are cute moments with Kuroo where he totally breaks out of the dom role he plays so well. Times where he’s actually very soft with you, and will just pause to say “wow, you are really the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

excuse me while I cry about it 

𝔍 = 𝔍𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔒𝔣𝔣

HE SENDS YOU VIDEOS WHEN HE DOES! The sneaky fuck will do so in his office or car, and send you the video like “thinking of you. <3″ He always cuts the video off right before he cums though, or even worse, he’ll angle the camera up to his face so you can watch his eyes flutter closed- then he’ll look directly into the camera and wink, knowing he denied you of EXACTLY what you wanted to see.

𝔎 = 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨

Ok so I’m gonna list a few and just... let you do what you will with them 👀:

CORRUPTION

Praise (giving)

Brat Taming/Degradation/Light exhibitionism (these all go hand in hand)

We ALL know he has a daddy kink too come on

𝔏 = 𝔏𝔬𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

He’ll have you wherever he can for a quickie, but the real fun is always in your home. Obviously your bedroom, but Kuroo is also very fond of shower sex, especially early in the morning. For him, its better than coffee at waking him up. 

𝔐 = 𝔐𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

He loves to hear you beg for him. Knowing he’s the only one you call out for in that way drives him wild. He also likes to see you make a mess on his cock, its his reassurance that he makes you feel just that good.

𝔑 = ��𝔬!

Kuroo is posessive, so there’s no way he’s allowing anyone else into your sex life. He might joke about showing his friends your sextapes, but in reality, he would probably murder anyone who looked at you like that besides him.

𝔒 = 𝔒𝔯𝔞𝔩

Loves to give and loves to receive. Prefers to recieve though, because he likes watching you get really into sucking him off. Also likes to fuck your face.

𝔓 = 𝔓𝔞𝔠𝔢

This is a toss up. It really does depend on his mood. He loves to tease though, so this fucker likes a good, lingering slow burn when he’s fucking you on a normal day. He’ll alternate between slow/shallow and slow/deep, just until you’re absolutely begging him. then he’ll pick it up and start pounding into you. However, if he’s had a particularly stressful day, he will take it out on you in the bedroom... not that you mind. 

𝔔 = 𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔢

He uses them as foreplay. He’ll bend you over his office deck and get you craving him, but he’ll thrust so shallowly that you’re grinding against him for more- only for him to bring a hand to your ass and then whisper “When we get home, you’re all mine.” Which in turn only makes you want him more.

ℜ = ℜ𝔦𝔰𝔨

He’s definitely someone who is down  to experiment. He wants to try just about anything you bring up, so that he knows what makes you feel good, and more importantly, what makes you tick. For him, understanding what you like is like understanding your deepest thoughts. 

𝔖 = 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔞

He can definitely go rounds. He takes ‘all night’ literally, and will not be finished until he knows you are ABSOLUTELY fucked out and can’t take it anymore. Even then, he’ll give you maybe 30 minutes to recover ??? if he’s being nice that night. But then he’s just right back in your guts like nothing happened. 

𝔗 = 𝔗𝔬𝔶

Yes. He got you a special toy that was basically a silicone mold of HIS dick for when you’re not together... a true king.

𝔘 = 𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔯

Of course Kuroo is a tease. It’s his life blood. He’s naturally someone who likes to get a rise out of people to push them to be better- and you’re no exception. He always likes to put you in ‘compromising’ positions around his friends and then play it off like you’re the instigator.

“Oh y/n I know you want it right now, but baby, everyone is here- we must wait until we’re home okay?”

What a JERK iloveitplease

𝔙 = 𝔙𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢

Oh. My. God. So, he doesn’t necesarily moan a lot, but when he does, he tries his hardest to muffle them by breathing in sharply, or catching them in his throat. But he is someone who grunts and swears a lot. And yes 300% to dirty talk and pet names. Chibi-Chan is undeniably canon.

𝔚 = 𝔚𝔦𝔩𝔡 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔡

He has the MOST FIRE sex playlist. I just know it. He has such a wide taste in music, so he can set the mood at any time just right. Its always playing “on accident” the moment you two are together- Kuroo calls it a sign.

𝔛 = 𝔛 ℜ𝔞𝔶

This took me like 30 minutes to fully fantasize about and explain 

KUROO HAS A PRETTY DICK HE IS A PRETTY DICK CLUB CARDHOLDER. It’s not super thick, but it’s long. I’d actually say he’s a realistic 8incher. Please kill me with it. He’s also definitely a shower- so what he has is only enhanced when he’s hard. His dick also flushes against the fabric of whatever pants/shorts he wears, so you’re constantly caught staring, not that he minds- he loves the attention, and the thought of always being on your mind.

𝔜= 𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

I would say he has a relatively normal to high sex drive- When he wants you, he wants you, and he won’t leave it alone until he gets you. He’s definitely the type to remind you how much he wants you all day long in an effort to rush you home from your errands or workday. He’s very good at making it known that he’s in the mood for you and you only

ℨ = ℨ𝔷𝔷

Kuroo... Doesn’t sleep at all? I see him as a night owl anyway, so he’s never really tired. He would honestly rather just admire you as you sleep. That’s how he knows he did a good job.

[iheardarumorxxx]

Midnight Sun, Chapter 7 - Melody

Surprise bonus chapter tonight. Normally I do two a day, but I had extra coffee today so I’m ready to go, let’s recap this trash.

Aaaaand we start with Weirdo brooding in the car and sniffing up all the Bella smell in it. Thanks, I hate it. 

And do you wanna know what our favorite little Pire is brooding about in the car while he waits for his siblings to finish up their last class of the day? He’s sitting in the car, wondering if Bella thinks he’s pretty. I wish I was kidding, but no, this man is literally sitting there, wondering if Bella is attracted to him because when she is around him her heart rate and breathing picks up and she blushes. Oh, but rest assured, Bella would never have the same impure thoughts that Gross Jessica Stanley had about Edward. 

Leave Jessica alone.

Also, Eddie? Bullshit. As someone who lived in your girlfriend’s head for 4 books, I can absolutely tell you that she has all kinds of impure thoughts about your marble adonis self, and she should probably be confessing to a priest because of them. 

Anyway, Eddie thinks some impure thoughts of his own (yay double standards) and gets a boner in the car. He gets very flowery and harlequinn with his little fantasy about Bella, to the point where, had this not been SM’s writing, I would have not been surprised to read the phrase ‘heaving bosom’. It’s G rated sex at its finest, guys. Be grateful that you didn’t have to read it (unless you did, in which case, I applaud you.)

I had no memories of another kind of yearning.

Just say ‘I never got a boner before Bella’ and be done with it, Eddie. Also now is the time to make your 109 year old virgin jokes, if you’re so inclined. I personally believe that it is perfectly fine if Eddie never felt sexual attraction before Bella, nor would it be a problem if he never felt sexual attraction at all. Ace people do exist. What bothers me is that this is framed in a way that is basically saying ‘You’ll feel the wiggles down there when the right person comes along’ and absolutely ignores the fact that sometimes, people never feel those kinds of attractions. Also, if you do feel those kinds of attractions but its not toward your pure and true love, you’re gross and awful like Gross Jessica Stanley.

The rest of the Cullen brood show up, and of course because Bella is so Special and Wonderful, even Jas and Emmett think she smells delicious, though, not nearly as delicious as Ed does because he’s the Most Special Cullen. Rose is mad and Alice just does as she was instructed to do by her magic future sight. Eddie is put out that he can’t spy on his lady love through her thoughts when they get to her place because he can’t stand not knowing where she is and what she’s doing at all times.

The Cullens go home and start doing various boring things. Chess, computer, TV. Rose is still pissed about the Bella thing and honestly? She has ever right to be. This puts her in danger, her and her family. It puts her husband in danger. She has every right to be mad and SM trying to frame her as bitchy and over-reacting does nothing to make me think that she is.

And Eddie. Oh Eddie. He’s playing the piano. We all know that he’s writing that stupid lullaby for Bella, and Esme is just so happy that her sweet precious baby is playing music again that she has to immediately appear and start fawning over him. Listen, I think that playing piano is a very impressive skill. It takes talent to learn and master. But treating Eddie’s little song like the next mozart piece is just stupid and I hate how everything they do is just consider the BEST THING EVER.

Alice singing along just. Boo. Go away. This was already bad enough as it was, don’t make it worse.

You are the best and the brightest of us all.

Just come out and fucking say it Esme. Or rather, just come out and fucking say it SM. It’s obvious that SM thinks her little avatars are the best and most special things to ever exist. She genuinely thinks that she’s created something to parallel the greatest lit of all time, and that her Eddie is akin to Mr. Darcy. Edward Cullen is not a good character. And he is not an interesting character. And that’s that.

God, there is an entire little section here just shitting on Rosalie. Rosalie is vain and petty. She only cares about her looks. Her whole life she was only looked at because she was pretty and it made her shallow and care only about appearance. Etc etc. Ignore the fact that Rosalie is clearly smart enough to maintain a 4.0 with the rest of her siblings, that she is skill with cars, that she does, in fact, have interests and hobbies outside of traditionally fem ones. She’s just a dumb, vain, shallow girl.

Fuck you, Eddie.

I am of the firm belief that one should never force their own beliefs on others. Never be afraid to express what you believe in, but never tell someone else they’re wrong because their beliefs are different. There are a few exceptions. One is Trump. That man is a danger and needs to be stopped. Period full stop. The other one? Alice mentions that their normal vamp friends are coming and they hunt the normal way. The Cullens have no problem with this and, in fact, just let them hunt nearby. In BD they actually loan out cars to the vamps to help them get away to hunt. The Cullens don’t eat humans, great, but they sure do aide and abet their friends that do. Murder is fucking wrong, even if to these stupid Pires, it is just a lifestyle choice.

Eddie and Emmett are hunting, some real bro bonding time. I wish that was what it was, honestly. I am aware that the Cullens are not actually related, but the have been together for a long time, and clearly have a family dynamic in place. It sure would be nice to see them attempting to act like siblings. To talk to one another, to bond, anything. But that would take time away from Eddie obsessing over his one twu wuv, Bella, so. Can’t have that.

You know what, Emmett is genuinely trying to be nice and understanding to Eddie’s pain and worry. Its actually really sweet to see it. Of course, Eddie is a grade A dick, and does not care about the effort his brother is putting in for him.

 God, and Eddie is crawling into Bella’s window again. I really, really hate that, you know. Like, it’s one thing for the fucker to be obsessive and stalk her when she’s awake, but like... let her sleep dude. Just because you never have to sleep ever doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want when other people are sleeping. Also, what was your plan gonna be if Bella had insomnia, or if she woke up for some reason in the night and you were just there? Of course, she would never catch you, for you are so wise and brilliant and shit. But like. Dude. Seriously.

So after he spends a few hours staring at Bella while she sleeps, he’s off, and goes out into the woods to follow her scent trail. Bella always compared Mike to a dog, but... idk Mike never pulled that shit. He just really feels the need to tell us that he wants to know literally everything that Bella does ever. It’s weird and creepy, dude. Just chill out. 

And this chapter just kinda... fizzles out. Like, it doesn’t conclude so much as it just... ends. Kind of abruptly. And this chapter was just... boring. Like, the ones before this were bad, but they were at least bad with some flavor. This chapter was like a stale triscut. 

Hope you enjoyed! As always, drop me a message or a DM if you wanna chat about this book or recommend one for my next recap series. You can buy me a snack using the CashApp tag in my bio! Love you all, thanks for reading!

[strange-n-unbluusual]

Pink! Ch. 4: The Late Date

*Beetlejuice/Original Female Character. Adult situations. 18+ only.*

Summary: After six breather years away, Beetlejuice returns to find the house on the hill overrun by coeds. Lydia allows him to stay, but has rules. Things get more interesting when Beck, one of the housemates, reveals she can see him. Following a sordid affair, Beetlejuice finds himself lingering around Beck more and more. But will her affection last? And why does it seem to bother Lydia so much?

Chapter 1: The Setup

Chapter 2: The Buzzkill Date

Chapter 3: The Ex Lover

This one is a doozy! 18+ only!!

DMs are always open for thoughts, feedback and suggestions. Ty. On AO3 as CopperContessa_13

They weren’t kidding around when they named the place Winter River.

By late November, it was uncommon for the town to go more than a day without being graced by at least another inch of snow. Constantly clearing her car was annoying, but Beck enjoyed the white stuff otherwise.

She smiled when she saw a bright light peeking through her curtains one morning. When she opened her curtains, she saw the sun was reflecting off a fresh layer of snow that had fallen during the night. About six inches lay untouched on the roof outside her window, the rays making it shine like glitter. Some fluffy flakes still floated lazily down from the sky.

Just beyond the roof, she could see the people moving around in the town. The snow there wasn’t quite as untouched as her immediate view, but the scene was still so picturesque.

The plow trucks had already come, easily moving the puffy snow off the roadway. Most driveways were cleared, too, but tire tracks tattled on who’d woken up too late to shovel before work. Focusing on one street in particular, she noticed a man started to clear his neighbor’s driveway after finishing his own.

Children, no doubt on break from school, were already preparing barricades for snowball fights and running down the streets with sleds in hand. During Winter River's first snow this year, Beck asked Lydia if any kids ever came to sled at the house’s hill. Lydia said she’d let them if they tried, but that they hardly got visitors these days.

Something about a bad experience with a Girl Scout and a census taker? Whatever.

Inspired by the scene, Beck dragged her art desk in front of the window. Warmness tickled her feet as she walked past an air vent. Settling in her chair, she turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook and grabbed a piece of charcoal.

It had taken a couple of days for tensions to ease, but they did. Beck and Lydia maintained their distance, but it was more out of respect than compulsion. Lydia had noticeably stayed over at her girlfriend’s house more since the big fight. When Mariah was over, though, they were considerate and quiet. That didn’t go unnoticed by Beck who, consequently, decided it was in poor taste to pointedly use Lydia’s towels to clean up after she and Beetlejuice finished screwing around.

Having the house to herself really did help Beck cleanse any petty energy that remained in her brain. Nice mornings like this, especially, made her worries feel small.

Being alone on Thanksgiving break wasn’t sad or stressful for her. With school in Connecticut and home in New Mexico, she realized early on that a trip home for such a short break just wasn’t worth it. Plus, it wasn’t like she felt alone.

Her parents kept tabs on her through text messages. She had lengthy streaks with both of her sisters on Snapchat. The ghosts were still around, too. Adam and Barbara, whose presence around the place was a bit more common now, would sometimes make idle conversation. And, of course, there was also Beetlejuice who was… a lot.

As if his snarky observations weren’t grating enough when she pretended to not hear them…

Beck didn’t know someone could be so endearing and insufferable at the same time. She’d learned to finish her work at the campus library because, geezus, Beetlejuice was an unstoppable force at home. It didn’t matter if it was noon or midnight, he was always at the door when she got home. She always found the act endearing until he opened his mouth. From the moment she came in through the door, he'd follow her around like a very talkative shadow. Beetlejuice had a surprising amount to say about his day, considering he never left the house.

Books she read, movies she watched, websites she browsed. You name it. Beetlejuice had a very staunch opinion on all of it. Don't even get him started on what he thought of her housemates. Kendra will never be “punk,” Ash’s poetry is shit, Cici’s weird nipples make her boobs look like googly eyes and Lillian is a shallow bitch. Beck had heard it all.

He never had anything bad to say about Lydia, of course.

After his conscious stream of thought ruined the emotional climax of a series she’d been binging, Beck decided she’d had enough. She was about to tell him off when a thought finally occurred to her: he only talks so much because it's been so long since he’s been heard.

It was a cathartic moment.

It was also cathartic when she learned he got really quiet after blowing a load or two.

They had yet to bang outright. He told her that they couldn't. Something about Netherworld bureaucracy barring him from having sex with a mortal without being summoned. Wary of unleashing a demon for the sake of a 30 second bone sesh (give or take, she imagined), Beck decided she was fine with just hand and tongue stuff.

Speaking of bedroom calisthenics, it was weird he wasn’t curled up next to her that morning.

Beck looked up from her drawing pad to glimpse at the town again, but was distracted by something new on the roof.

She adjusted her posture just enough to make out the beady eyes of a snowman sitting outside her window. The snow used to make it was dirty looking, brown and grey. Its eyes and mouth were made up of tiny pebbles. A black and white striped scarf hung loosely from its neck. A gust of wind blew the knit fabric against the (several?) flimsy twigs being used for arms.

“Hey, sugar tits! Coffee’s on!” Beetlejuice announced while kicking the door to her room open.

Beck flinched, causing the charcoal she was holding to make a thick line on the paper. She frowned at the mistake, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She could probably pass it off as a tree branch or something. Oh well.

Turning to face him, she was relieved to see him holding two mugs. Caffeine was just what she needed.

“You don’t have anything to do with that cute snowman on the roof, do you, Lawrence?” she asked while grabbing a cup.

“Cute? He’s not cute,” Beetlejuice scoffed. “Look at him peeping into your room! That dirty pervert.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let that slide.”

He grinned and pulled her to his side with his free arm. She tried her best to ignore the gesture, opting to clutch her hot mug with both hands instead of embracing him back. Messing around was one thing, but she still wasn’t sure what to do when he made affectionate little gestures like these.

Still, there were worse ways to start a morning.

Beck took a sip of the coffee. Her face twisted into disgust.

“Something wrong, babes?”

“W-what did you use to make this?”

“Dirt and water,” He said taking a gulp of the stuff. “Why do you think the snowman is so dirty? I spent the morning digging through the garden to make this.”

Trying to contain her repulsion, Beck calmly walked over to her dresser and set the mug down.

“What? Is this not how you’re supposed to do it?” he asked. “Lydia said it was made with plants.”

“Yeah! A coffee plant. Which is definitely not topsoil.”

“Well I got it from the garden, didn’t I?!”

Beck took a deep breath.

“You are… something,” she said.

“I don’t get your deal. It tastes the same to me,” he shrugged.

“Stop drinking that!”

Beetlejuice stared her down as he chugged the rest. He patted his tummy and made a satisfied “ah” noise. Beck rolled her eyes but cracked a smile.

Jokes on him, she thought. She wouldn’t touch him again until he used some mouthwash.

You can’t have a weak stomach when you’re with someone like him, Beck had learned. If it wasn’t clear from the moss on his face and the dust that wafted off of him when he moved, they guy had an affinity for filth. What was more frustrating than the dirty clothes and greasy hair, though, was that she knew he could do something about it with a wave of his hand. Fucker didn’t even need to shower! He just liked being that way!

Beck liked her men dirty, though.

“I was just trying to do something nice for you,” he grumbled.

“Hon, I know, but it’s gross” Beck laughed.

She slightly regretted using the pet name when she saw him visibly perk up at its use.

“Let me get changed and I’ll make a real breakfast,” she quickly added.

“Are you gonna make pancakes?!” he gasped, lighting up further.

“If you want, I guess.”

“Fuck yeah!”

⁂

Later in the day, they’d decided to turn on a movie. One of Beetlejuice’s favorites— The Exorcist. He was so enamored with the screen he didn’t even see her slip away. He was re-alerted of her presence at the sound of heels clicking on the kitchen’s wood floor. He whipped his head around, desperate to get a view of her from the living room.

Beck was wearing tall brown boots and very tight jeans. The straps of a lacey bralette peeked out tastefully from under a knit sweater. A bit of jewelry and makeup accentuated her features. Her hair fell in big, loose waves just above her shoulders. Her coat and purse were held under one arm.

Beetlejuice wolf whistled, grabbing her attention.

“You look like a million bucks, Beck!” Beetlejuice said, walking over and slapping her ass.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “I actually wanted to wear this cute bandeau and jacket I picked up the other day, but I’ll save that for when it gets warmer. Hoes don’t get cold, but they do get pneumonia.”

“Why are you worried about getting sick? I thought you were staying in today.”

“No. I actually need to head out soon.”

“Why? Grocery store closing?”

“No, Lawrence,” Beck giggled. “I’m going to the pub downtown. This guy from my sculpting class struck up a conversation with me about craft beer. Apparently he knows the woman who owns the place. We’re gonna try some of their new pours together.”

Beetlejuice was quiet for a moment before he finally responded with a breathy laugh.

“If I didn’t know you any better, Bexley, I’d say it sounds like you’re going on a date.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Yeah I am. My first since Lydia.”

“Well, you can’t go then!” he snapped.

She looked up at him in surprise.

“And why the fuck not?” Beck spat back.

“Because you and I are already together.”

Oh boy.

Beck’s mouth gaped open for a second, not exactly sure what to say.

“No, we’re not,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry I never laid it out, but what we have is strictly casual.”

“It’s not casual, babes,” he insisted.

Beetlejuice’s words were calm, but she didn’t miss the bits of red that were starting to fleck his green hair.

“We can talk about this later,” Beck said dismissively. “I need to go.”

Beetlejuice pinned her against the wall, holding her firmly in place by clutching her forearms above her head. Her shoes felt like they were glued to the ground— likely his powers holding her. She struggled against him, but quickly realized it was useless.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“No, baby, never,” Beetlejuice cooed into her ear. “I’m just going to prove a point.”

“What point?”

“That your fucking little breather flings can’t hold a candle to how good I make you feel.”

Beck didn’t get a chance to respond before he hoisted her from the wall and laid her on the nearby countertop. He quickly undid her jeans but looked at her for approval before pulling them down. She hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

“Prove your point, big shot. Make it fast.”

Beck knew she was being greedy and inconsiderate for pulling a stunt like this so close to her date, but she couldn't help herself. She'd become addicted to his constant attention.

She tensed at the coldness of his tongue, but it quickly warmed inside her. It always did. One of Beetlejuice’s hands grasped her thigh while the thumb of the other worked her clit. Her hips spasmed at infrequent intervals at the pleasureful sensation.

She loved the way his tongue pulsed inside her at a steady rhythm. At first she was turned off by how inhuman in looked— wormlike and darker than a human one. The way it could stretch and move her, though, was incomparable to anything else she'd experienced. He was already driving her wild, his movements simple but skilled.

He wasn’t allowed to know that, of course.

Beetlejuice looked up at Beck. She was supported on her elbows, giving her enough height to look back down at him blankly. He knew she was trying her best to be unenthused, but her act wasn’t convincing. Aside from her electrified hips, he could read the lust in her eyes and hear the lilt of an occasional whine leave her mouth.

Not good enough.

Craving a more intense reaction, he slid out to tease her ass for a second. When she opened her mouth to gasp, he quickly rammed the tongue back into its familiar sheath. Beck’s hips bucked into his mouth and she let out long, pleasurable cry.

Beetlejuice smirked, raising an eyebrow at her from his spot below.

“Don’t get cocky,” she groaned.

Repositioning, he placed a hand on either of her thighs and spread her legs further apart. He took a second to appreciate how beautiful and vulnerable she was in this position before diving in headfirst again. She panted, weaving a needy hand in his hair. She'd move him gently, desperate to chase her orgasm with his help. She loved it when he maneuvered so that his appendage could both rub her little pleasure button and fill her insides.

She closed her eyes, imagining it was his cock filling her instead.

After manipulating her with his mouth for a while, Beetlejuice withdrew. Beck, who’d mostly shucked off her pants by that point, wrapped a desperate leg around the back of his head. She tried to push him back into place.

“I’m so fucking close,” she pleaded, “Please don’t stop.”

Everything in him wanted to oblige her.

Beetlejuice was obsessed. He craved to feel her fall apart in his hands. After so many rendezvous like this, it started to felt like his purpose in unlife was to worship her body. It felt like sin to not to give in to her wants.

But he had a point to make…

Beetlejuice kissed her left thigh, the wetness from around his mouth transfering partially onto her with it.

“You can cum when you tell me that no breather will ever satisfy you again.”

“That no wha-? Oh!”

She threw her head back and arched towards him as he slowly slid a thick finger in. The speed was disappointing and teasingly slow. Sitting upright now, Beck tried to stimulate herself further but was unable. Her hips felt like they were being held in place, making it impossible to ramp up the speed by rocking back and forth. Her hands, similarly, felt stuck to the counter. It kept her from playing with her clit.

Beck tried to contain her frustration but failed miserably. Finger still moving painstakingly slow, Beetlejuice watched her thin veneer of calm fall apart. A deep, grounding sigh from her lips slowly became a vexed protest. He laughed openly at her struggle and pressed his forehead against hers. The proximity gave them both a rush.

“Say ‘you’ve spoiled my body too much’ and maybe I’ll let you cum,” he said.

“I’ve had better!” Beck spat back.

He bit her neck in response. Pleased at the scream he elicited from her, he kissed the mark it made.

“Don’t do that! I don’t want Nathan to see it.”

"Fuck Nathan!"

Beetlejuice was about to bite harder when he got distracted by a buzzing noise. They both got quiet. Looking around, he realized it was coming from her jacket on the floor. It, along with her purse, were knocked out of her hands when he pushed her against the wall.

She grumbled when his hand and face left her body. Beetlejuice leaned down and fished the buzzing thing— her cellphone— out of her jacket. He looked at the glowing screen, an evil grin spreading on his face when he saw who was calling her.

“Pick it up. Now,” he demanded as he tossed it to her.

He dismissed the restraint from one of her hands, allowing her to catch. She swallowed nervously before answering.

“H-hi Nathan."

Beetlejuice resumed his position on her neck and teased her entrance with his fingers. As he placed his other hand on the small of her back, Beck realized with horror what he was about to do.

She bit her lip to suppress a moan as two of his thick fingers slammed into her repeatedly. It made her crazy, feeling the hilt of his hand ram against her pelvis. Beck tried to close her thighs to buffer the movement, but his powers still kept her position locked. He nibbled and sucked her neck, careful not to bite too hard this time. She liked it when he paid attention to the spot on her collar bone, too, he'd learned.

Her body trembled at the sensations. A tremor was in her voice, too.

“I’m not standing you up, I promise,” she laughed nervously into the phone. “I, uh, I’m stuck at my house. My car won’t start. Sometimes that happens when it gets too cold.”

Beck let out a yelp as Beetlejuice put a third digit into her.

“No! I’m fine. My back just hurts from hunching over my desk all day. W-what was that? Oh! Uh, yeah that’d be awesome. You're the best. I’ll see you in five.”

She hung up the phone, immediately tossing it aside in order to manipulate her clit. Beetlejuice laughed against her skin.

“Not so cool now are you, Bexley.”

“Shut up and finger fuck me like you mean it.”

That was all the prodding he needed.

Her sweater bunched up as the hand on her back clenched into a fist. Beetlejuice started kissing her on the mouth. Beck kissed back, fiery need consuming them both. When he untethered her other hand, he was surprised to feel her tugging his pants down. He moaned into her mouth at the way she stroked him.

Beck's concentration on him wavered. She broke their kiss and stopped manipulating his cock, too focused on getting herself off before she had to leave.

A long and drawn out scream soon crescendoed from Beck’s mouth. It was so unabashed it almost made Beetlejuice blush. He loved it when she didn't care who heard her cumming. I made him feel powerful. The Maitlands were probably somewhere out of sight and clutching their pearls over it. He certainly didn't give a fuck, though.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s right. Ride it out,” he whispered.

Combined with the feeling of her hand on his cock, the sensation of her body clenching around his fingers was almost too much. Beetlejuice was close to climax, too.

Regaining control of herself, Beck's hand started working him again. Beetlejuice grunted and came all over the base of the countertop.

They just stared at each other after coming down from their respective highs. The silence spoke volumes.

In a moment of tenderness, Beetlejuice tried to kiss Beck, but she turned her head.

Wordlessly, she readjusted her clothing. He watched bemused as she maneuvered her hair to fall over the purple and red mark he’d left on her skin. Hearing a car horn honk outside, she picked up her things and headed for the door.

Beck dared to glance back at him one last time.

Beetlejuice smirked back, mouthing the word “spoiled."

She slammed the door behind her.

⁂

The date was a bust. Nathan didn’t even go in for a kiss when he dropped her off.

It's not like she had anyone else to blame but herself, though.

Beck was distant the whole time, her mind more interested in replaying what had just happened rather than listen to her date talk. When she did pay Nathan mind, it wasn't for long. She was self-conscious about hiding the hickey on her neck. She was too distracted to give meaningful answers to the questions he asked. She was too overwhelmed with the worry that he could smell Beetlejuice on her. It wasn't long before he gave up on coaxing conversation out of her.

“Whelp. See you in class Tuesday,” he sighed when he dropped her off.

"Thank you. I'm sorry," was all she could manage to say back.

She really did feel sorry. She really did like him.

Beck was surprised that Beetlejuice wasn’t waiting for her in the foyer. She thought for sure he would been itching to gloat about how he was right. About how that dumb breather didn’t have a chance with her and all that.

He wasn’t waiting in her room when she got up there, either.

This was so unlike him, Beck thought. Where the hell could he be?

The ceiling above her room creaked.

“That bastard,” she muttered.

The message was clear: not only did he demand that she grovel, he demanded she actually go up to the attic to do it.

Resolved that she wouldn’t play his game, Beck started to get ready for bed and kicked off her shoes. Tossing her keys onto her dresser, she noticed the coffee cup that had been left there earlier. The art desk was still by the window, too, along with the drawing she’d been working on.

Picking up the sketch pad, she noticed the thick black line from before was gone. The picture, otherwise, was the same aside from the addition of two crudely drawn figures. A man and a woman peered out at the rest of the town from a window in the top part in one of the houses. The detail was hard to make out, but she could tell they were holding teeny tiny coffee cups.

Beck smiled despite herself.

[sometimeinjoon]

What do you want?

2.8k

Hoseok was pleading at this point.

“What do you want?”

“Everything you can’t give me.”

And it was true. And it was sinful, too. It was cruel in a way, to be asking for those things. It’s not like Hoseok ever hesitated to give you anything you’ve asked for in the past. Actually, it’s not like you’ve directly asked for anything in the past. That was your relationship: Hoseok knew what he needed from you, and he knew what you needed from him too. You’re always too shy to ask for things, too unfocused on shallow symbols of wealth. All you’ve ever asked for was an apartment to live in. Hoseok gave you a condominium to share with him, and a car too. Then a bunch of other things you never cared for, but received gleefully. Jewelry, clothes, expensive breakfast cereal and premium iPhone cases.

He needed someone like you. Pliant, but also smart. Someone that was easy to tell what to do, but can also answer wittily when engaged in small talk by a too-important businessman that’s trying to gauge your wealth and status. An accessory, if you will, at the parties of the rich so people would get off of his back. So that he doesn’t need to worry about flirts that wanted his money and not him. It was simple. Get dressed, smile, talk a little, leave.

That is, until he fucked you that one summer night when he’s had a little too much to drink and your dress hugged your body a little too well. And it’s not like you would say no to him, right? It’s not like you haven’t thought about being pressed against a wall while you’re at the parties with nothing else to think of or do. And so you oblige, and you enjoy it as much as he looks like he does.

And now, you’re not sure how you’ve gotten to this point, but you have. Some nights after sex you wouldn’t slip into your own room and he doesn’t complain, although he wordlessly leaves the next morning. You pretend to sleep while he prepares for the day and your heart does something when he presses a kiss to your temple before he tiptoes out of the room. Recently you’ve found yourself wanting to be around him more outside of “work” and at parties you hold on to his arm a little tighter and actually talk to him while the gathering ensues.

You’ve caught feelings. Feelings that were never really drawn out of the picture. It wasn’t like Hoseok penciled a line where things should end. There wasn’t a specific no falling in love rule. No sleeping with other men. That was the rule. The only rule.

You can’t help but feel like Hoseok feels something too, though he’s too cold to act on them, or even acknowledge them. He smiles at you a lot more recently, and he holds your hand sometimes instead of slinging it around his forearm like he usually does. He matches his tie to the gowns he lets you choose on extra special occasions, and that one time you asked him if he would be around for your unofficial anniversary, he actually went out of his way to come home.

But dare you not mention love around him. He doesn’t believe in such thing. He’s never experienced it, you guess, and you’re not sure how to introduce it to him. So you mother him when it’s needed and he doesn’t push you away. And you drink with him when he feels upset, and he clinks your glasses together before he downs the last shot he takes for the night. You remind him to eat when he’s at work and he tells you to eat as well too. You prepare dinner for him even though he comes home at ungodly times some days but the plates are in the sink the next morning anyway.

Things feel stagnant, though. And you, you little son of a bitch, you want more. More than this luxurious lifestyle and more than the advances you put out that he doesn’t outright reject. You want a relationship. A fucking relationship, for crying out loud. As if Hoseok doesn’t treat you well enough. You’re not a cumslut in bed and you’re actually spoiled with some aftercare at times, and you never have to ask for bags or shoes because Hoseok buys them for you on his own accord. You can even refuse sex. That’s literally a dream for sugar babies. But you, no, you’re greedy.

Sitting across Hoseok on the balcony, in front of lavish food and a wonderful view of the city, you tell him you’re out.  That the contract is over, when there was no actual contract signed. That you’ve found a small apartment in the heart of town. That you’ll work at the local library to get you by on your rent. That you’ve left the keys —both to your condo and to your BMW— on the gold dish by the door.

And Hoseok, he looks like he’s lost. He looks like he’s not understanding anything you’re saying. He nods, but he’s not quite present.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ll help you find a replacement,” you wager. “Tell Mr. Choi that my family went bankrupt and I’m no longer a suitable partner.”

Hoseok shakes his head and bridges the gap between you. His hands are soft on your wrists and they snake around until your hands are in his. He brings them to him, uncrossing your arms that were resting on the table and he stares at how your manicure catches in the light. He remembers picking out this color for you.

“What do you want?” he asks, still looking at your hands. He’s prepared for anything. A random trip to Ibiza this instant. A log cabin in Canada. A portion of the moon. He will give you anything. He’s been asked for everything by everyone already anyway.

“Nothing. You’ve given me so much.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

You don’t answer, because the answer is embarrassing.

“What do you want?” he repeats, looking at you earnestly.

“Everything you can’t give me.”

And Hoseok nods. He nods like he understands. Like he knows exactly what he can’t give you, and he’s going to just to keep you. You’re delusional, maybe, but you’re almost sure that he feels even a little bit similar to the way you do.

“Stay at least until tomorrow morning.”

You say yes and prepare to leave all feelings you have for him by the time the week is over.

He gives you his coat in the elevator on the way down the building after dinner. He keeps his distance as you walk straight past his car, past the opened door that his driver offered. He smiles and asks the driver to wait a few minutes.

You stop by a convenience store, and in your extravagant evening wear walked behind him as he strolled around. He takes a lot of things from the shelves. Once his arms were full, he tells you to get some ice cream, and when you ask him what flavor he wanted, he was already too far away from you to hear. You look for something plain, simple, ah, vanilla. Then he holds all the bags himself on the way back to the car. He doesn’t touch you the whole ride home. It was you on the left side, him on the right, with a mountain of paper bags in between you. You’re both staring out the window and the wind was frigid and thin from the AC.

The elevator ride up to your floor was no different, no touching, no words, lots of paper crinkling uncomfortably as he shifted his stance. You walk a good distance away from him in the hall and when you finally close the door behind you, he’s already leaned up against the kitchen island, bags on it.

He walks towards you when you begin to put away your shoes and his arms go inside of his coat hanging around your shoulders and he hugs you. He hugs you for a long time, and you being the airhead that you are don’t hug him back. When you part, he smiles at you softly walks towards his room. Again, no words. You hear his door lock and you finally let out the breath you were holding. You set his coat on the couch and begin to sort out the excessive amount of food Hoseok bought that he seemed to have no intentions of eating tonight.

And then you go into your own room and undress yourself to take a quick shower before bed. You put your hair up and let the water run on your chest, the steam clouding up your vision. Then the door knob twists and in walks Hoseok. You keep your eyes shut as you hear his pants unzip and his clothes fall to the floor. You hear him open the glass door and join you inside, and it takes him a moment to actually touch you.

He reaches in front of you for the bar of soap he always tells you not to use because it makes skin dry but you do so anyway. He rolls it in his hands a few times and starts soaping your back, stopping short of your ass as he travelled down. He puts the bar of soap back on the caddy and massages your shoulders. The soap helped his hands slip around your skin better and the feeling of his skin on yours made you dizzy.

“Smells like cupcake,” he says sniffing your hair. “Almost want to eat it.”

You smile slightly and you turn off the tap as he continues to massage you, his thumbs running flat against your neck.

“Literally. I want to eat your hair.”

You laugh this time, turning around just to give him a confused look.

“There’s lots of food outside.”

“Any of them smell the way your hair does?”

You note that he likes the new shampoo and remind yourself to buy it and only it.

“My turn?” he asks, motioning towards his chest. When you nod, he takes the bar of soap from behind you and hands it to you.

“I thought you don’t like this type of soap?”

“If your skin is that smooth after using it, it may not be that bad.”

And you lather it between your hands and start at the farthest ends of his shoulders towards the center where his pecs valleyed in. You take your time admiring how broad he is in comparison to you and you don’t notice him staring at you the whole time.

The soaping takes a while, but there’s nothing sexual about the steam in between you. It was almost chaste, the aura inside the shower. Even when he’s knelt down in front of you to scrub your legs, the back of your thighs, nothing happened. He’s hard, and you can see that he’s hard, but he’s not making any moves and so you don’t either. When it’s his turn to get soaped down, you swap places to get his back wet and when you turn the tap, ice cold water comes pouring out, burning Hoseok’s skin.

“Motherfucker,” he exclaims, and against your better judgement, you start laughing at him.

He doesn’t look at you angrily like you expected him to, though. Instead, he takes you by the shoulders and spins you around so you get under the stream too. You jump at the contact and struggle against his hold to turn the water off. Now you’re both laughing, moving around franticly at the state of your bodies, cold and in shock. Extremely close to each other, but also not gaining any warmth. You both forgot about the maintenance work tonight. Now the hot water’s off until 2 in the morning.

“Stop moving around!” he tells you as he hugs himself. “You’re moving the air!”

“How are we gonna rinse?!” you ask him exasperated and after a short while he walks to where the shower head was aimed and turns it back on. He’s kicking and swearing, rubbing all over his body in a hurry. “Balls it out,” he says, voice shaking.

“I haven’t soaped your back yet!” you wave the bar of soap around and he freezes under the water for a second to look at you like you’ve just betrayed him. He turns his back towards you while he turns the tap off.

“Babe fucking hurry!”

“It’s not my fault your back’s the size of a ping-pong table!”

It was like that the rest of the time. Little cutesy arguments and bickering while you tried to endure the frigid water. Jumping and swearing and teasing, and a lot of cursing. When the task is accomplished, you both sigh in relief as you step out of the shower.

He hurries to the towel rack, yanks on one and throws it around your shoulders. He presses it against your skin and tries to pat-dry whatever surface the towel covered draped around your shoulders that way. He reaches for the other towel and then pats himself dry too.

You step into your room and he kisses the top of your head before he headed into his own room to get dressed.

“Couch in five minutes baby,” he says looking behind him as he walked out the door.

The night, oh boy, the night. The night was wonderful. The couch, food, a movie, and Hoseok. It was mostly Hoseok. The night was kissing and yelling at stupid movie characters that got themselves killed too early. It was a heated debate on Doritos or Cheetos. It was switching to watching Shane Dawson when the movie sucked too bad to continue.

The night was also passionate sex. It was him carrying you into his room. It was him stripping you gingerly, taking his time. It was him on top of you, telling you how tight you are. It was him pulling out and cumming too quick. It was him eating you out to make up for finishing too early.

The morning after was you waking up to his hand laced around yours. It was staying in bed too late bickering about the night before because there was no way Shane Dawson’s theories could be wrong. It was scrambled eggs and really expensive French toast you’ve learned how to make in a cooking class. It was him remembering the ice cream from last night. It was him insisting you tried his little concoction of ice cream-on-toast like it was something new to the human race.

The afternoon was him wagering for you to stay another day.

It was dangerous to stay another day because Hoseok will ask for another. And then another. And when you say you can’t, Hoseok pleas.

A lightbulb went off in his head. Hoseok has been mechanical, built to please, built to accommodate, and when he’s around you, he feels. And he doesn’t know what to do with that. He doesn’t know how to take what he’s feeling and show it to you properly. He thinks it’s expressed with the pampering he gives you all the time, with the Gucci and the Armani and the YSL. It has to be, right? He wants only but the best for you.

But he remembers what you said you wanted. Things he cannot give you. And if he’s going to keep anything in his life, it’s you, so he will give those things to you. When you finally nod to him repeatedly asking you to stay, he’s set on his plan.

He shyly presents the badly fried spam and very sticky over-watered rice he prepared for you the next morning. His heart soars when you eat it though. When you eat a lot of it. He knew spam was a no-fail. You loved spam.

He shows you a lop-sided cake he’s tried to decorate with a heart that’s disproportional and you smile at him and take a slice. When you compliment his cake’s flavor, he blushes.

He tries to change your bed sheets and when you catch him in the middle of it, you laugh and offer to help him and you’re both clueless as to how his maids do it alone.

With each failure he gets as he tries to do something for you, he feels that you at least appreciate it. That you appreciate him in all of his unskilled glory. It goes on for a whole week. And then the week after, he takes you out on dates. Real dates. To the park, to the gallery, to the aquarium. Holding doors open for you, pulling out chairs, holding your hand, your waist. Kisses to the top of your head. Kisses to your lips.

“What do you want?” Hoseok asks you again at the same table you’ve told him you wanted out a few weeks earlier.  He meant food. What do you want to eat? Drink?

“You.”

That’s strange. Hoseok’s not used to being asked for that.

But he’s ready to give you that entirely.

[lightlorn]

Ship bias for your KH Muses! :D

i am a flawed human being. ll accepting.

Aqua:

Terraqua. This ship is part of the reason I kept crying so hard in KH3, now catch me admitting that on the internet. I love the way they are there for each other in spite of their stark differences, and that they have a lot of unexplored, threadable area in both their coming of age and post-KH3 timelines. Plus any ship I can draw a parallel between my fandom otp and another ship is a good ship.

Xemqua. Nomura was setting something up here and he dropped the ball and I will not take that lying down. You’re telling me they don’t even so much as look at each other during the DLC? Dishonorable, Nomura, truly despicable. There’s so much to work with there, what with the armor and the way you can read a lot of Xemnas’ closest allies in the Org being answers to Terra’s inner circle. If Nomura won’t give me their story, then I’ll write it with a partner.

Aqua/Larxene. There’s basically no other adult women in this series and I am a simple dyke seeking the wlw. I think it would make a fantastic opposites attract cliche with the added bonus of someone that won’t take Larxene’s attitude lying down while simultaneously being able to match her step for step. The Taming of the Nymph, coming soon to an AU near you.

Eraqus:

Xehaqus. This is my end all, be all OTP for the fandom. I have spent almost 100 dollars overall at cons commissioning art of these idiots. They are my phone background and lockscreen. I have an entire fic in my head of their apprentice days and frankly if Dark Road does not live up to the relationship development I have hyped up in my head I will go canon divergent. These fuckers are beautiful and heartbreaking and awful and wonderful and I love them. Bring me all the Xehaqus.

That’s it. I’m so disappointing. I have like one or two OC for him ships and I mean whatever happens in RP happens if relationships develop but oh my God. Xehaqus consumes me.

Invi:

Real talk my Invi is a lesbian and my take on the Foretellers is that she sees them all as her siblings underneath all of her posturing that it’s nothing personal, so I don’t even know what the fandom ships for her are. I’m not even sure who is available to ship with her. Throw whatever of age lady muses you have at her, mutuals, and let’s see where this goes.

Isa:

Isalea. Akusai is also good, but there’s something about their life together after the war ends when they are trying to rebuild and find everything they lost that speaks to my soul. I would never say that if I see an Axel/Lea it’s ‘on sight’ shipping because that’s shitty, but I will say I am that Saix/Isa that is always down to discuss your take on their dynamic and see what we can cobble together.

Xemsai. This will never be a healthy ship, I think, based on the fact my Saix is as likely to use his alleged loyalty and affection to try and get some form of control over his Superior, but there’s a lot that could be fleshed out here. Whatever heart he grows will always belong to his oldest friend, but he will do whatever it takes to see his ambitions fulfilled. He’s trying to use the creature that has used him for over a decade. God. The potential.

Xigsai. By the same card as above, I think if Saix clued into Xigbar being more than simply a bombastic menace, he could try and pull the same using sex and false loyalty to obfuscate his true means on Xigbar. The difference being that Xigbar is, at heart, far more deadly and aware than Xemnas is when it comes to the bigger picture. It’d be Saix putting himself in the mouth of the beast willingly, and not expecting how deeply those teeth can cut when they snap shut on him.

Roxas:

Full disclaimer: I am 25 years old and fleshing out the romantic drama of a teenage boy is not something that super interests me. That said, I do like the concept of Roxas and his brand new heart forming all kinds of bonds, and him eventually starting to register feelings beyond the platonic for certain people. So as far as character development goes, i can see him taking interest in the following:

Hayner. There’s something so coming of age adolescent aggression as a front for latent or closeted affection about them in the simulation, and in the real world they have endless potential. I think Roxas could definitely feel safe enough around Hayner to have something more develop feelings wise. Also Hayner has muscles and that makes Roxas 404 error sometimes regardless of shipping, just as a general Roxas thing.

Xion. It’s a cliche, to be sure, but depending on the Xion and their development, I can see Roxas starting to feel more at home in her presence after they’ve had time to heal and become their own people. This isn’t an on sight shipping thing, and in fact I am super selective about this even while shipping it, but there’s groundwork for a good dynamic and a sort of reunion between them as whole people who come to appreciate each other as more than their initial, shallow idea of friends.

Namine. Was not super hip on this as a kid, especially when I was less discriminating in my Xion tastes, but as an adult I can appreciate their bond. They have a lot of the same trauma in terms of being dehumanized and used by two separate factions in setting, and the two take a lot of risks for one another within the data Twilight Town. I think there’s something to be said for them both to have irrevocable individuality and come together and develop as more than friends over the years.

Riku. Is it trashy? Yes. Is Roxas still tied to Sora somehow? Yes. Would it be hilarious to see Roxas turn a would-be rivalry into accidental flirtation because he’s confused about his feelings? Yes. Riku just standing there suffering while Roxas demands they engage in a passionate battle of lips -- WITS. I don’t even know how serious I am in shipping this, but Riku being Roxas’ emotional training wheels amuses me.

Aaaaand you can’t really have biases for an OC because at that point anything with plot potential, chemistry, and aligning sexualities goes so instead I am just going to shout out Kokoro’s established ships + the muns for being so good to my little mary sue.

Xemkoro/Foxhole. I don’t know how me dipping my toe in the water of shipping with Lucky by saying ‘hey my OC and your Xem could have a cool dynamic’ became like... my entire shipping brand, but here we are. Their entire dynamic breaks me, the way Xemnas is clinging to a past that he wants so badly to have been a part of while Kokoro can’t afford to look back anymore, working too hard to meet future goals is... Everything. Especially in the fact she regards him as a person without hesitation or knowing how much that will come to mean to him. There’s so many layers to them, and they truly work to earn their happy ending, and that is everything to me. Here’s to successful risks and their payoff.

Aquoro.  Everything my gay little heart ever wanted: the dichotomy of childhood romantic friendship giving way to adolescent rivalry and a shell of what your relationship used to be that appears so often between girls. That they also represent the Responsible Daughter and Rebel Daughter in Kokoro’s secondary verse, furthering the gulf between them as Aqua continues to follow the Master’s teachings where Kokoro embraces her own ideas about what Eraqus preached is... Chef’s Kiss... And through it all, it’s still Aqua that Kokoro wants to find the most, the one for whom her heart breaks the hardest when she sees what became of her. I owe Lucky my life for giving me this phenomenal wlw content.

Koterra. Kleffy does spoil me. The difference between what Terra dreamed of as a boy and what their reality became, where she is instead his knight and protector while he calls the shots as part of reclaiming his identity is perfect. The way they grow from teenage misunderstandings and dick moves into adults that have a touch more kindness for one another is also good, because it’s all about the character development. Their bond is strong and their support for one another immeasurable. I am heterosexual for one (1) ship. All because Kleffy came up with it on the spot and then put in the effort to make it work, God bless em.

[bibliophileiz]

Supernatural “War of the Worlds” Review Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Tolerate b*cklemming

These people are far from my favorite writers on the show (that would be Berens, Glynn and Yockey, the last of whom wrote my two favorite episodes) but every time an episode they wrote airs I want to dissect all the good and bad of it anyway, and this is no exception. This is I think their third episode in a row I’ve felt the urge to review. I think it’s a coping mechanism to help me tolerate these episodes.

This was not b*cklemming’s worst episode – I still think that was the one in which Eileen died – but it was not great either. It’s watchable, don’t get me wrong. But we’ve had a string of stellar episodes this season except for two. Two. And they were both written by this duo.

Unequivocally bad things about this episode:

- Who the FUCK decided to put b*cklemming in charge of apocalypse world? There do indeed appear to be no women, period. I kept hoping the creepy hunter who attacked Mary in their last episode only thought there were no women because all the women around had the good sense to avoid him, but … nope. It appears he was right. The whole apocalypse place looks like the cast of Lawrence of Arabia with a darker aestetic.      Either mittensmorgul or elizabethrobertajones (I can’t remember which and the post is too far back for me to find but both have excellent blogs!) pointed out this just keeps b*cklemming from writing creepy rape scenes all over apocalypse world, which is a fair point. However, b*cklemming has written plenty of problematic sexually violent stuff victimizing male characters, albeit usually being victimized by women (April to Cas, Toni to Sam). Also it just generally irks me when an otherwise well-written show suggests women can’t survive harsh circumstances. I know they have to stay on Supernatural, but someone please keep this pair away from Wayward Sisters. - Asmodeus sucked only marginally less in this episode than when he was introduced, and that’s only because he had the suckiest introduction of anyone in this show. He. Is. Still. Awful. I can’t believe the show is going to waste the Keeping-Cas-Locked-Up-In-Hell story line I’ve been waiting for on this assclown of a villain. - AU verse Kevin Tran is like … I would say Diet Kevin Tran except I usually like diet drinks better than their counterparts, so I guess it’s more like … Vegan Chocolate Kevin Tran. I can see the resemblance, but the original has more flavor and more richness and doesn’t work for genocidal war criminals just to see hot women. My theory before this episode aired was Kevin’s a double agent for a group of hunters who have formed a resistance, led by Asa Fox and, eventually, Mary Winchester, and if we ever get an apocalypse episode written by Berens or Glynn, I might even be proved right (about the double agent part. The Asa Fox part is a stretch, I realize this). In the meantime, this was a total waste of the character. - Did b*cklemming just forget the show is about Sam? He had that one scene with Ketch which is super forgettable. In all his other scenes, he was just kind of there. It was like they were writing and would occasionally say, “We need to give Dean’s sidekick a line now.”

Good Things (several of which have nothing to do with b*cklemming)

-Cas’ sex hair is back. - I didn’t hate the Cas-Lucifer team up as much as I expected to. In fact, I thought the scene between them at the bar was the best in the episode. I unequivocally hated the way these writers – really all the writers – wrote Lucifer last season, but b*cklemming actually wrote some of my favorite Lucifer material in the entire show. Specifically I’m thinking of Lucifer (as played by Misha Collins) telling Amara she may defeat God but she will never be him – not a Lucifer redemption moment by any means, but certainly a moment where he gets to be something other than an entitled brat. It shows even though he hates God, he also admires him. You also see this in his reaction to finding out Kelly’s pregnant. She said he was excited because it was the first time he created anything, which I remember thinking was a really in-character reaction to have. This explains why he’s so interested in whatever Cas has to say about Jack too.      However, I don’t want my enthusiasm for dad!Lucifer to be taken as me wanting a redemption arc for this fucker, because I don’t. I don’t hate the idea of him almost being redeemed. We the audience are sympathetic to Jack, and once Jack realizes he can be good, he’s going to want to redeem his father, Luke Skywalker-style. I like the idea of Jack trying to “save” Lucifer – “There is still good in him, I know it!” – and for Lucifer to kind of go along with it until something happens and Lucifer reveals himself to be as entitled and jealous and petty and power-hungry as he’s always been, and then Sam and Mary or maybe Cas get to kill him. If we’re sticking with the Star Wars parallels, then I want it to be like the moment Han Solo offers Kylo Ren a second chance and Kylo stabs him instead. I like Lucifer, but at the end of the day, fuck him. - Related, I also didn’t hate Mark Pellegrino. He’s never been a bad actor, he’s just been a shallow one, but that’s the material he had to work with. When he has decent lines and isn’t smirking around evil-for-the-sake-of-evil dialogue, I find I want to punch him less.      More specifically, he did a good job posturing while also showing the audience he is terrified without all his power. That little flinch when Asmodeus enters the bar, before he pretends to relax and starts casually threatening Asmodeus, was great. - We finally got acknowledgement the universe is running out of angels. - Guys. Rowena might still be alive. If Ketch is alive and Rowena isn’t, I might stop watching this show. - Cas’ sex hair is back. -Speaking of Cas, I was concerned he wouldn’t tell Dean he was working with Lucifer because he thought Dean would be mad or because he would want Sam and Dean to stay away because danger or because Lucifer talked him out of it or some bullshit like that and it would be last season all over again. I’m so, so glad they didn’t go that route even though it means we get more shapeshifting (voiceshifting?) Prince of Hell nonsense. - Lucifer calling Asmodeus the runt of the litter made me feel better. At least b*cklemming admit theirs is the worst Prince of Hell. - “Honey, you’re not Lucifer. My ex-husband’s Lucifer.” - Did I mention Cas’ sex hair is back? - I liked the witch and on the one hand wish she’d had more to do but on the other hand am worried b*cklemming would have killed her if she had another scene. - When Asmodeus referenced a hunter in his payroll, I thought, ‘I bet it’s David Haydn-Jones.’ I love being right. - Dean asking if Ketch’s tattoo was a stick-on. - The shots at the playground are all beautiful. Good job Richard Speight, Jr.! - The fight scenes are. So. Good. - Seriously. Cas’ sex hair. It’s back.

Questions I have

- Where did Lucifer get that jacket? - Why do the demons call Jack “the Jack”? - How does Ketch know Sam and Dean are looking for Jack? Sam said he reached out to “every hunter we know” but firstly, how many of those are left that aren’t dead and secondly, who of them knows Ketch but doesn’t know he’s evil? - How does Lucifer know Kevin? I thought he was locked up during Kevin’s story line.

Now let’s talk about Ketch.

I’m so used to bad writing from this pair, I didn’t even see the Ketch reveal coming. Based on their not-great track record, here is a list of things b*cklemming would totally do: - Write a less-evil twin for a dead character. - Have Ketch torture and kill a bunch of witches – to find Rowena – so he can find and kill her – because she’s a witch. - Have Arthur Ketch’s less-evil twin Alexander Ketch still ask about Mary even though he’s never met her. - Look like they’re about to give Ketch a redemption arc.

So I totally bought it. 

Like … good job? Good for them for fooling me by being, like, the lowest bar of competent. It’s sort of like how I spent all of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince thinking Malfoy couldn’t be up to anything because he’d spent the five previous books showing up way too often to make the same bad jokes about Harry and Co. over and over. It’s not as good as writing well the first time, but points for improving.

And at first I was excited because I thought – and still think – Ketch will make a much better villain when not loaded down with Men of Letters baggage because the Men of Letters were cartoonishly stupid and Ketch was actually threatening when not anywhere near them. But … where are they going with this?      k-vichan pointed out this episode undoes both Mary’s victories from last season – knocking Lucifer into AU World and killing Ketch. Which is typical b*cklemming. To be fair, we knew Lucifer had to come back, but what could they possibly do with Ketch they haven’t already done? His villain arc ended perfectly – Mary killed him in defense of Dean. That was literally the best way he could have possibly died. It was the cathartic, climactic moment of last season’s emotional arc.      I’ve seen some people suggest Dean will get to kill Ketch now and – no. No. Killing Ketch was always going to be Mary’s victory, and I’ll be disappointed in the show and the writers if they take that away from her. 

All in all, a mixed bag of an episode. Which is disappointing after a string of nothing but good episodes this season from everyone but b*cklemming. (Ish. I’m afraid we may not be looking at the cowboy episode rationally. I’m going to have to wait until Netflix gets the new season and watch it again and decide then if I’m being rational about liking it or if I’m just excited about Dean’s cowboy hat and Cas’ fake western accent.) But next week we’re back to Glynn and then Berens and then Wayward Sisters, so hopefully it’s a long time before we have to deal with this nonsense again. Meanwhile, here are some things I want out of future episodes.

- Kevin being cool again. - Mrs. Tran. - Mary Winchester. - (louder for the people in the back) MARY WINCHESTER! - Rowena. - Dean figuring out the Cas he’s talking to on the phone is not Cas. - AU Resistance leader Asa Fox - Something cool in apocalypse world other than a church Jerry Wanek built. (Good job Wanek, I’m so sorry it couldn’t be in a better episode.) - Maybe some other AU resistance versions of characters like Bela Talbot (unlikely but a girl can dream), Godron Walker (AU Resistance Gordon Walker would be awesome!), Ellen Harvelle (bonus points if she and Bobby are married), Jo Harvelle (acceptable if they can’t get Ellen), FemCastiel (bonus points if she also ends up in Real World and meets Sam and Dean and Dean’s like, “Who’s the hot angel?” and she’s like, “My name is Castiel,” and Sam starts laughing and Dean’s like, “Fuck, I hope Chuck’s not making this one into a book.”)

[lateniterhymesandjustifiedcrimes]

I haven't been here in a while...

And wow I’d forgotten I used to write. I miss that part of me. I guess getting older really does change a person. I’m 25 now and I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. I have so many dreams. I wanna move to Korea and make a life there. It just looks so beautiful and fresh. I want that, Fresh. I want to start a YouTube channel. I’m even working on a concept now, but it’s proven to be tougher than I thought. Well, not really tougher, but unforeseen obstacles are presenting themselves. I want a dance studio. But nowadays I’m more broke than my boyfriend trying to sell his mixtape (inside joke).

Oh I have a boyfriend.

He’s a guy I loved 7 years ago. A guy I ruined a perfectly good 2 year relationship for. I literally crossed an ocean to tell a man I loved I was leaving him for a man I loved 7 years ago. Why? I don’t fucking know. I’m just a terrible person. I need to start from the beginning.

My stories normally don’t include names but here’s an exception. I met Anthony in fall 2010 when I first started college. He was this scrawny Filipino guy and idk but I wanted him. He was kind, innocent, a little shy, and really funny. I was into that back then because I was this little virgin girl who wanted another virgin to lose her virginity to, kinda like equivalent exchange (that didn’t happen, but that’s another story). I made an effort to be his friend (and through that effort, I met the people who would eventually became my family). Our friends totally shipped us, too. Anthony and I went on 1 date. To Mr. Taco. And we walked there. Yeah, neither of us could drive at the time. But, we had great conversation and I popped his horchata cherry. I really thought we connected.

Unfortunately, Anthony only saw me as a friend. For the first time, I knew what true friend zone felt like. I say true friend zone because people like to complain about being in the friend zone but never let the object of their affection know they’re interested and then stay in the friend zone. I made my intentions perfectly CRYSTAL clear. Men can be such idiots.

Anyways, time went by and we added another girl to our group. Anthony was totally into Maribel and no matter how hard I fought for his affection, he only saw her. They would date for 4 years. During those 4 years I had lost contact with him because she was the type of girl who commanded all of his attention. He had lost contact with all of us and broke some friendships because of her. During those 4 years, I’d managed to date 3 guys; Darek (most annoying dude on the planet and I have no idea why we’re still friends today), Phil ( the man I regret losing my virginity to, who is now engaged to a woman I’m pretty sure he cheated on me with), and Sammy.

I met Sammy through tinder. I joined tinder to feel wanted again (this was after my breakup with Phil and I was feeling incredibly empty because I was no longer pure). I didn’t expect much from Sammy. I just wanted to casually date. Of course this guy had other plans. After our first date (movie and accidentally meeting most of my friend group…awkward), he kissed me goodbye and that had to be the most passionate, sexy thing I’d ever experienced. Which is why I agreed to a second date…and a third date…and having sex with him…on my period…in his car…yup. On our 4th or 5th date (I can’t remember) he asked if we should make us exclusive.

Now in my head I was like hell fucking no. Sammy was in the navy and I knew from the get go I wasn’t into long distance shit. Plus I just wanted to be a slut. He wasn’t my type at all. He was a bit shorter than me, not super attractive (shallow I know, but I’m thinking about my future children here), he liked music I made fun of, and he didn’t dance. And I told him this shit. So we continued fucking around until he left for Hawaii.

Shortly after he left he told me the ship was taking a trip to Santa Barbara for a weekend for supplies or something. Idk why but I didn’t hesitate when he asked if I could meet him there. And it was best weekend of my life. We finally boned in a bed. We talked so much. We drank and danced and sang and kissed. We kissed a lot. And sometime during that weekend, not at the same time, we told each other “I love you.” He would be gone for 2 months and when I finally got to see him again, I knew we were in this for the long haul.

When you’re in love with someone, the things that didn’t initially attract you to them start to become attractive. Like his body. And his taste in music. And his style. And his personality. We were a great couple. He taught me responsibility and I taught him acceptance. And what I mean by acceptance is that I wasn’t his type of girl either. I dance, I love the gays, I’m irresponsible af, and I’m black. But we both became more open and better people because of each other. I had never so physically and spiritually attached to a person. I learned to do the long distance thing and for the first time really truly understood the need for your love's presence. I craved Sammy like nothing I'd ever craved in my life.

A little over a year passed and I was convinced this man was god sent to be my husband. We had met each other's families and were accepted. Sure, we would fight and argue a few times, but that's healthy and the make ups were well worth it. We talked about baby names and our future. A future that included Japan. His ship was moving to Yokosuka and we would be apart for 2-5 years. I was devastated and reminded why I didn't want this relationship early on, because of the long distance. But because of how much I loved him and how strong I believed our love to be, I stayed. We made plans for me to visit 5 months after he left. It would be the longest amount of time I would be without him. But I believed in our love.

Until Anthony came back into my life. I got invited to his 23rd birthday out of the blue and we reconnected. It had been a while since we'd been with our old group I started college with (he left because of Maribel and I left because of Darek). We both were a little lonely so we started hanging out again. Just the 2 of us. And we TALKED so much. I'd forgotten how close we used to be and the things we had in common. I thought it felt like we were dating, so I invited the whole group out for a day in LA so we wouldn't be alone. Those fuckers agreed and I went ahead and made plans and the day before everyone canceled, except Anthony. They were shipping the hell out of us again. The problem was that I was already happily taken. Our group trip turned date was really fun. And I was afraid of that. We got home late that night and I ended up sleeping over at his house. This wasn't the first time I slept over in his room. But this time was different. There was this tension between us that had never existed before. He was gonna give up his bed for me, but I insisted he sleep in his own bed. We both ended up in his bed. We didn't cuddle. And I couldn't sleep. So I rolled over to face him. And he rolled over and put his hand on my arm, like a really awkward cuddle. And I asked him, "How different would our lives had been if we had dated all those years ago?" (Or something very similar.) I don't remember his response, but I do remember my breathing suddenly getting ragged and me leaning in to kiss him.

First kisses are so fucking magical. Just something about kissing a new person for the first time oh my god. My first kiss was pretty bad, so every kiss afterward was mind blowing because I started kissing guys that knew what they were doing. The way he kisses me and holds me and his eyes and that thing he does with his tongue ahhh it's different for every guy and it's a fantastic and wonderful and different feeling every time. I live for those feelings. In that moment kissing Anthony, I forgot I had Sammy. And in that moment I knew I was never quite over Anthony. Anthony and I knew what we were doing. But staying away from each other was just too difficult. We never had sex, but with all the time we were spending with each other, we might as well have.

I was so conflicted. I started hating myself all over again. I never imagined myself as the cheater in a relationship. Sammy and I made a rule that if either of us cheated, that would be the end of the relationship. And at this time, I had already bought my ticket to Japan. Non refundable. I was going whether I liked it or not. And my 2-week notice was already in at work. I was so disgusted with myself for not being strong enough to stay faithful to my man. But I was also happy because of Anthony. He had a way of making a problem disappear. But eventually I had to tell him that we couldn't be together. I loved Sammy and I planned on marrying him one day. We had plans to move to New York together after Japan. Anthony cried and his crying made me cry. Nobody was a winner here.

I flew to Japan and met up with Sammy. It was supposed to be a beautiful magical reunion, but I was clearly bitter. I spent the whole flight thinking about how to tell him I cheated. He noticed but didn't comment. I spent a week getting settled in, going on dates, taking in the sights. Every moment with Sammy in Japan made me want to stay with him forever. But I knew that wasn't going to happen. I told him what I did after I had a dream of me confessing. We talked for so long. He was willing to take back our rule if we both agreed to look over this and stay together. And I almost agreed. The words telling him yes we're on the tip of my tongue. But that's also the moment I realized it didn't matter how in love I was with Sammy. I wasn't trustworthy nor grateful enough to be his forever. He didn't deserve someone as unworthy of his love as me. So I told him I was choosing Anthony. I felt the weight of that decision immediately. He started crying. I never want to be the cause of such sadness ever again. I've never hurt anyone the way I hurt Sammy that day. He told me he had bought a ring and was planning on proposing the second month I'd be in Japan in Kyoto. It was a proposal only he could pull of and super cheesy and so much better than the proposal I'd fantasized about. And that's when I started crying. We spent the next week trying to figure ourselves out and angry fucking (best sex of my life, hands down). He tried to salvage our relationship but it was quickly made apparent that what we had was broken. My last night in Japan we had our last date. And was wonderful, but bittersweet. And the next day, I was all packed up to leave. He walked me to the elevator and as the door closed told me I can still stay if I want to. To this day, I still question if I made the right decision.

Anthony picked me up from the airport and our relationship blossomed from there. A year and a half later and we're still together. Sammy and I stopped talking, but I'm still not over him. I know that's unhealthy especially since I'm with someone else, but I can't help but still love him. I never wanted to leave. But I knew staying wasn't any better. That's not to say I don't love Anthony. I just don't love him the same way. The connection between Sammy and I is completely different than the one between Anthony and I. Both different, but both amazing. In hindsight, I should have taken more time to be single before jumping into another relationship, but I just couldn't stay away (slut).

I drank almost every day and watched any and every romance movie on Netflix when I got back. I was unemployed, lazy, and emotional. I stopped dancing. I gained weight. I developed a loathing for myself. This lasted for 8 months and Anthony wasn't having that shit, so he pretty much forced me into a summer dance intensive and made me get a dance job. I also got my job back at Ihop and went back to school to get more AA's. I think that's what made me really love Anthony, how he pushed me.

I don't want to get too into our relationship because I feel that should be a separate story. I just feel compelled to tell the story of the man I would literally cross an ocean for and the expensive breakup that followed. I guess only time will tell if I made the right decision. It's 4am and I have to be up in 3 hours so it looks like I'll just end the story here. Good night.

[lord-of-isengard]

#1.7 Justice

Now by this time, I have said and done some stupid things. Yes, I have done things, said words, made promises that didn’t mean didly-squat to me. And I think a lot of people reading this can relate to that, because we do things, we lie shamelessly to get something that we want. That action is not an original action, if it were to be counted, I think that is the most commonly occurring thing in the entire world because people love to lie, and I’m no different.  I love to lie too. Because it helps me get things and some things come along the way, if I lie very intensely. I remember in college time, I used to lie a lot, just to get inside someone’s pants and have a god time. I was under impression then that having fun meant either booze or drugs or sex. I did drugs (now that I have grown older, they don’t appeal me as much as they did in the past), I am rather attached to drinking (it still magically makes my problems go away, or perhaps it makes me less of a talker and more of a listener) and sex is always something that gets me excited. I have, made promises that I broke less than an hour after I made them, just to fuck someone. I spent a lot of my parent’s hard earned money to get a little bit of action that lasted no more than 5 minutes. (I have to say, fuck they were expensive!) But whatever I did, I was okay, because I felt that I hadn’t treated anyone in a bad way. I was immature and inconsiderate and probably a shallow being of a man, but I loved to think that I didn’t do something that would make me a despicable human being. That was how I consoled myself every time I heard someone doing shitty things to their exes. I always thought I was better than them and I treated people differently than the way they used to. I was no saint, but I was no Satan too. I was in the mid-line and I thought standing in mid-line was okay. It was acceptable. And all the girls who allowed me to have sex with them had dated guys worse than me so I was a breath of fresh air to them. So it was okay, nothing that eventful happened to me that made me hate myself, because I loved to fuck and fucking was all that I got and no one asked anything more than what I was giving. There were no regrets you see, I was comfortable lying to get my way inside of them, and they were used to being lied to or too gullible. I don’t think they went out with me because I was good looking, I wasn’t. Neither do I think, they agreed due to my blinding charisma or pizzazz because I had none. I was a mediocre date and a mediocre lover, so people didn’t dwell on the time that they would spend with me and that was by all means fine with me. I had other things to worry about, and I was okay with whatever I had got. Now however, as I am sitting here in my study while my best friend here is staring his glass of gin and tonic, I realize how bigger filth I had been to the poor gals that I had have sex with. My god-daughter was raped and killed a week ago, and today in the hearing, the monster that did all of the unspeakable things to that poor girl, got only 20 years in jail. And you know what he did then? He looked at me and the victim’s father, and the mother fucker smiled. He fucking smiled…

I am thinking all the shitty things that I had done in the past. How I had taken the consent that I got for granted and how I had bragged about it among my circle. How when my friend dated the same girl, I had called her a slut and made her less of a human. Oh, the things that I had said and not done. They all are coming in my mind. If a little girl, who hasn’t had any perverted thoughts in her life gets that, then I don’t know what is it that I will get for all the things that I have done. I thought I was a good man, I really thought, despite my potty mouth and devil may care behaviour, I had this inner image of myself being a good person, but today I feel I had failed all the people who ever had the misfortune to get intimate with me. Girls are not to be treated the way I treated them. I treated them badly and its sad that when something bad happens to someone you love, then only you realize how devilish you have been. Just saying sorry doesn’t cut it man, I should have thought better, I should have remembered the karmic way of life. I gave pain to people and bragged about how selfish I had been, and I was encouraged. I was treated as a hero when I said how I had persuaded a girl to let me fuck in her ass, when she clearly not wanted to. I bragged about how she screamed in pain when I actually did that when she gave me her consent. I was drunk in lust and her pain that I made her a fucking sex object and treated her that way than a fellow human being. How I had bit a girl’s neck, excusing it for ecstasy and passion, but in truth how much I had enjoyed it! I had apologized, but fuck, we both knew that, the apology was just a cheap ploy to go to round 2. Now all those memories, which once were recalled fondly, disgust me. Because, the little girl got all of it and even more. The thing I used to call kinky, the kid got it, and that was the thing that killed her. In a way I am in no way different than that bastard. I have made my mistakes and there was a time when I used to smile on the things that I did. I bet that fucking pathetic reason of a human being thought of the same thing.

My head is spinning and I am in complete loss of words on what to think, let alone speaking. I am on my 9th glass of scotch and still I am hurting. The pain is there and it’s crushing me. I cannot even begin to think how my friend is handling the grief and pain. She was a lovely girl, the kind that lights up the room, and now she is not here. Fuck, I cannot process all these emotions that I am feeling. My love for that kid, my grief for the fact that she is gone, the sadness and unhappiness I am feeling, my rage against that monster, my outrage against the system, my prediction of the future; everything is racing and my mind cannot process it all in time. She was supposed to outlive us all. She was supposed to crack jokes with my kid in my funeral and make sure my kids were good. She was supposed to do all the good things and make the world a better place, instead what is it that she got? Fuck life man, she was good and she had to go in the most brutal way possible. She was just a kid, just a fucking kid. She didn’t deserve that. I am a fucking psycho and I get to live but someone as pure as her had to go this soon, and by bleeding to death while a guy older than her dad fucking raped her? She didn’t even know what rape was, neither did she know about bird and the bees, and she now she is dead from things that she would neither get to understand or comprehend. How could anyone do something like that, I cannot understand! How can he go through with all of it when just thinking about it makes me nauseous? What goes inside a mind like that? How could anyone even think of raping a kid? Fuck! Where the fuck is the moral compass? Does a thing like that fucking exist? A lot of questions are attacking me and the way I am thinking at the moment. My friend, he is silently crying in front of me and I have never seen a man break like that. I have to go on and console him, but how can I? He is going through some shit that is inconsolable…

Killing someone is completely different thing, isn’t it? A person is warm and you can feel consciousness in them and the next moment, they are gone. We found her on a side of the road somewhere. She was covered all on blood and she had no pants on. Thank god, I and my friend were only there, the moms were out of it. I cannot even think what could have happened to the poor mother who gave birth to that beautiful little kid, to see her in such abandoned situation.  Her white t-shirt that I had gifted her on her last birthday was torn and complete red. She had taken it out to prevent her vaginal bleeding. Never had I thought I would see a sight like that. When  you know the person that you are seeing is the person that you love and deeply care of, seeing them in that fucking place could shatter the whole fucking sky. I knew I, of all the people, would have done anything to get her well and fine. Miraculously, she was still bleeding when we found her. Her heartbeat was faint, but she had been living, she had been fighting. But she left, as we rushed her to hospital. I remember her eyes going out of focus and looking past me when she lost her consciousness. She saw my face and her dad’s and then she never saw anything consciously again. When you have the tiniest inclination that things would be better, you hold onto it in such a way that, you don’t try to think anything else. But when your worst nightmare materializes in front of you, and it’s happening in front of you and you cannot comprehend what is happening, then you start losing your rational thinking. As I held her in the ambulance and when I saw the tiniest bit consciousness disappear from her eyes, I felt it was because of me. She was suffering because I was a despicable human being. Never had I prayed with that fierce intensity ever in my life. If you are a sinner, even god doesn’t listen to you, does he?  She was my god-daughter, and she was dead. She had been forcibly taken from us, and there was nothing we could do but to sit and think, on how did we let it happen. All the bad memories, the things that I am not proud of is flashing before my eyes, and I hear again and again my self-image shattering and crumbling because I am comparing myself with that monster, and I feel I am the one, who caused it all. I feel, had I done some good deeds in the past or treated the girls well and fair as they were to be treated, I think this would not have happened.

Violence is not a good way to solve anything, I know that. And I also know that hatred and anger will make you blind, so it is not advisable to act harshly when you are emotionally blinded. But when you have this picture of your loved one lying on the floor which is already red with her blood and you see no remorse on the person’s face who did that, then all you can say is, fuck logic and fuck everything else. Fucking fuck philosophy. Vengeance looks and feels all too sweet. That guy doesn’t get to live. That is the only explanation. I’m against capital punishment, but when a criminal doesn’t even think about his crime and its repercussions and is happy to get into a deal of 20 years inside where he will be well fed and taken care of, that is when I lose my consciousness and rational thought process. It is not justice when someone who easily takes a life without any remorse gets to live, while the victim’s parents are subjected to hell every day from the event. Nope. If someone forgets on being a human, then why give that fucker any chance to live? But they don’t get to go swiftly too, they have to experience all kind of pains that they have subjected to us. Be it a chemical or injecting an acid or anything that ensures that he will go through all the pain that he has made us go through. Now that would be a just system, and I just need to find a way to make all of that happen.

Well, I deserve the pain that I am feeling and I think it was about time the universe made me suffer. But, my friend was completely opposite of what I was. He always was a good boy and he respected women. He always had this strange way of treating women the way they were supposed to be treated. I made fun of him at times. Because he was the version that I always wanted to be but wasn’t able to be. He had found his wife when at college and they had her a year after their relationship while in college. I had been friends with him since kindergarten and since we were together throughout our schooling and university, he was a part of my family and I was of his. He, his wife, also a college student and I had collectively raised the child together. He was into serious relationship while I was in casual flings and the kid had helped me get a lot of girls too. She was a babe-magnet, that was when she was less than a year old and that was the time she used to wake us up all night long by crying her ass off. I remember that and all of it, because she was our baby. Just a couple of youngsters, studying university, raising a brilliant kid with us; in a way it was weirdly trance like. We had learned so much from her and we had tried to incorporate it in our lives to make it better. Fuck, we failed her, we failed her big time and now no matter how much we scream, nothing will be same.

I don’t care what happens now, I frankly don’t. I have already talked to my friend and he has agreed with it. If the law fails it, we have to take it by our hands and try to make sure that this fuckup doesn’t happen ever again. If a guy smiles at the parents of a 9 year old girl  after raping and killing her, there is not any logic that says the guy will be rehabilitated in the institution. It is not solely about revenge, it is about everything being just. The guy has to go through all the pain the little kid went through. I used to think that killing someone or murdering them is the foulest actions one could ever do, but for us, we are desperate. I know, killing someone for a bad blood is bad, ending the physical existence of a person by our will is wrong, but there is nothing else that we can do else. I deserve it, I know, but she never deserved it. I will not complain or scream at god. God will see what a grieving dads can do for the child they lost to a lunatic. I will live with the guilt of killing someone, but I am sure the criminal’s death will not weigh hard on me, all the shady things that I have done will weigh harder than killing a good for nothing child murderer. I don’t care what the society would talk about us, because our society is the main reason why fuckups like this is happening. I care about nothing but avenging the little girl’s death because if we don’t do it, no one will.

Fuck every one, we don’t care. We can take care of ourselves and we will get justice.

Our poor girl, hope she knows how much we love her.

Being just and fair is when pain inflicts pain on the person who caused it and makes him realize that what pain actually feels like.