#Doing nothing but giving or doing nothing but taking will only kill you you're the same as dead

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hey there! I saw in one of another post of yours that you dealt with hoarding, any tips for de-hoarding the house?

Oh boy, do I have a lot. Here's what has helped me, a hoarder who lived several years at Level 4 (squalor, utilities shut off frequently):

Always be kind to yourself. Hoarding is a disorder and for me it was triggered by accumulated trauma. It will take a while to dig out, and you will likely have to wrestle with hoarding urges all your life.

Mindset tips:

Space is more valuable than stuff. Clear pathways, room to sit & sleep, prepare food, work on crafts -- it is *valuable*

Your home is not an optimization problem for storage. Again, space and clean surfaces are necessary! Not having paralysis of choice is valuable!

Cultivate awareness of when you aquire things and devise ways to break out of a buying pattern - put the phone away, go for a walk, etc.

Make some short-term rules: nothing comes in before two things go out. Only buy things you know you will use in the next month. Etc.

Kill sunk-cost-fallacy. The real value is peace of mind, not the potential of an object.

Decluttering tips

Clean out trash, first. Just get the obvious garbage out so you have space to work in.

Get some bankers boxes or bins. Create a group for sale/donate. Put some "keep" boxes in each room.

Start with 1 room to declutter. Again - trash, first. Then, go through objects in that room, putting in the group sale/donate boxes, or directly into the "keep" box for the room that object should live in. Don't worry about *where* in the room the "keep" items go in -- they go in the box, for now.

Try to get the decluttered room to a point where you can move furniture for a deep clean. And try to avoid putting anything in this room that doesn't belong there. You are focusing on 1 room at a time to fix.

Assess your decluttered room for how it might encourage hoarding. Again, is there not enough space? Do you need to take out or rearrange furniture to encourage living/working surfaces?

Don't be in a rush to sort through any of your boxes. Focus on reclaiming space.

Go through the boxes after you've had time to decompress. Some time should have passed and you now can look at your items more neutrally.

For your possessions, ask: does this spark joy? Do I have something similar already? Why am I holding onto it? Is the potential worth the time and space to hang onto it? If it is sentimental, is there a better way to use or display it? If it is broken or a crafting item, will I really fix/use it?

Get in the habit of giving objects a permanent home. Label shelves, bins, whatever else you need to.

Maintenance tips:

Avoid buying things when you're overly emotional

Designate landing pads for items. They don't have to be in the traditional places -- if you take your shoes off in the kitchen, then buy a boot tray and put it in there. Always put your wallet in the same space. Etc.

If daily clutter overtakes surfaces in your home, consider catch-all baskets. I have some in high traffic areas, like the dining room, staircase, and living room. Go through the baskets on a regular basis to weed out junk and put items away where they live.

Be honest with how much time you have to enjoy your possessions. Will you read that many books? Wear all those clothes? Make all those crafting kits? Are you spending more time aquiring vs enjoying?

Regularly assess your belongings and see what you can let go. If you are not sure yet, put items in a box and see if you can live without for several months. Date the box, and be brutal about dealing with it in the time frame you decide upon.

Get into a chore routine. Sometimes, chores are easier if the cleaning supplies are right there. I have an upstairs vacuum and a downstairs vacuum for this very reason.

A 10 minute "reset" at the end of the day goes really far, especially if you are a crafter.

Find something more benign to collect, if you are a magpie. I collect public domain stuff in digital format, video game items, etc. I'd rather be a hoarder in Skyrim than IRL.

I also "collect" experiences now -- I am currently seeing how many different trails I can hike. Maybe you would like something like birdwatching, to sate your hoarding urges. Redirection can go a long way.

I can go more into specifics, but these are always on my mind when I think about controlling one's hoarding. I hope it helps!

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐢 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭) | love and deep space men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; kinda mad that i didn't take a stab at it ! lads men (zayne, xavier, rafayel) and the habits they've built because of you.. oh, and you broke up (＾＾；)

love mail — added synopsis !! lads debut lads, debut :3 my favey is zayne so if it looks obvi ignore that... (author hasn't played since release be warned for inaccurate depictions.) also i'll be writing for caleb and sylus soon! i just wasn't playing on their release so i wanna do the og three! (^_^) also i'm finally home so layout coming back soon!! love you all :3 do we like the new pfp or do we go back?

zayne hasn't seen you in weeks.

why would he? even if he wishes upon every shooting star that passes by his lonely, office window, you aren't coming back. the hunters already transferred you to a new doctor, he won't be seeing you till he closes his eyes and prays someone up there is kind enough to let him dream of you.

it's selfish, he knows. but who will be around to judge him? the house is empty, his bed is cold, and he can't do anything to change that. he aches, he yearns, though zayne has long sealed his fate. he knows he can't have you, not in any universe where the curse follows, which is every single one.

he still looks, despite this. every cafe, every cat in a tree, drawn to check out every dangerous situation in hopes to catch a glimpse of you. when a client came into his office, they asked about the photo of you he still kept on his desk, proudly on display — even though it shouldn't. it's is only way of seeing you, and he needs it, desperately so. the only thing that kept him sane all this time was the way you glowed so effortlessly. he misses that shine, the light of his life, but he'd rather drown in darkness than let you worry about his curse ever again. his worsening winter inside is nothing compared to the coldness in your gaze towards him now.

xavier doesn't know how to stop making space for you. god, he wishes he'd stop, but he can't. it breaks his heart every time he wakes up alone in an empty bed or couch, expecting to see your pretty face, only to stare at the reminder that you're gone.

he loathes waking up, getting out of bed, just to see your face at work but it isn't as sweet. it's got that sour look when you look at him, and he can't handle it. he wants to see you smile again, he misses being the reason for such a beautiful expression.. but he isn't anymore.

he can pretend well, wear that face of nonchalance and aloofness like it's all natural. everyone in the agency and on enemy sidelines can't read him if they tried. but you can, you always have. and you can see it all in just those eyes.

despite sleeping to escape his reality; xavier is still clearly exhausted. it's more than drowsiness, it's akin to despair. he can't handle this ache that comes with breaking up. but he knows it's for the best, even if he keeps making space for someone who will never fill it again, he stands firm on his decision. no matter how much it kills him.

"there's nowhere else to put these", is the excuse rafayel pulls when thomas worriedly checks on him. in his studio, on every canvas and paper; it's you. every photo of you imaginable is painted and hung on his walls, like a painter trying to remember a distant muse, cause he is. when rafayel began to slowly lose his perfect depiction of you in his head, he painted in a frenzy, uncaring of how long it took, or the care he neglected, he couldn't allow himself to lose it.

you became his muse at his darkest time, needing something to give him a *real* a heart in his work. and how is he supposed to ever pick up a brush when you were gone? sunsets are now dull, flowers seem to be empty no matter how vibrant, and everything beautiful didn't seem so anyore. not when he's seen how you looked under the moonlit light, under his sheets and steady in his arms. rafayel can't name a single part in his oceanic or luxurious home that could ever compare to you.

he noticed that you still came by his gallery sometimes, but word of mouth is that it's only to check if his very first painting of you still stands where it's always been, the heart of all his pieces.

watching you stand there, in what he can only assume to be a growing bitterness to the painting every day it still stands, hurts him. he's glad he's completely shut himself out, locked doors and closed curtains back at home, because he doesn't want to know what you'll react if you figured out he still paints you every day like you never left.

[angelickks]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 ۶ৎ bf!francisco "frankie" morales x controversially young gf!reader (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+)

CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GF!READER is all lip gloss and sass, curled up in frankie's passenger seat humming to songs he doesn’t know, laughing at things that make him feel ancient yet when you look at him, it’s like he’s the only man in the world. your the line frankie morales knows he shouldn’t cross but already has, over and over, with shaking hands and a prayer caught between his teeth. and god he prays he deserves you. he knows he doesn’t. youʻre his second chance. his worst decision. his salvation. and if loving you makes him a fool, a hypocrite, or a selfishly sick bastard? then so be it.

you mix soft, sweet looks with just enough edge to keep people guessing. think baby tees with cherries on them, short pleated skirts, kitten heels or a perfectly heeled boot, oversized cardigans and tiny gold jewelry that says your name in cursive. you look like you just walked out of a trap set for older men with guilt complexes. (mission: successful.) vintage juicy couture. you have a collection of glittery handbags or tote bags that carry lip gloss, gum, travel size perfumes and absolutely nothing practical.

your perfume smells like sugar and summer fruit. you wear lip gloss that leaves a perfect print on his cheek, his neck, the rim of his coffee mug. “you leavin’ your mark on me again, baby?” damn right, you are.

you're always wearing that ultra shiny, sticky sweet lip gloss—the kind that tastes like something fruity. you reapply it while straddling his lap, eyes locked on his, and ask, “wanna taste?” he always does.

your aesthetic screams “messy,” but you're sharp as hell. frankie learns the hard way: just because you wear tiny tops and chew bubblegum doesn’t mean you won’t psychoanalyze him mid-argument and walk away with his soul in your purse.

your room is all soft bedding, a plethora of pillows, fairy lights, fluffy rugs, and discarded clothes. perfume bottles line the dresser next to your vibrator and a polaroid of you kissing frankie’s cheek. it smells like vanilla, and he swears he can’t think straight when he’s in there.

"you’re too young for me"—as he unzips your dress. frankie tries to keep things appropriate. he really does. but the way you look at him? the way you bite your lip when he’s talking? he knows he’s screwed. his resolve cracks like glass. "this is a bad idea," he whispers right before kissing you like a man starved.

friends give him shit—the guys call him a cradle-robber. he shrugs it off, but there's a flash in his eyes that dares anyone to take it further. because yeah, you're young, but you’re not stupid. you keep up. you challenge him. and no one knows how deeply you two get each other behind closed doors.

you test the boundaries, and he lets you—you wear his old t-shirts to bed. too long on you, slipping off one shoulder. you straddle his lap in private, call him "old man" with a smirk, and he growls, "careful, baby. you don’t know what you’re askin’ for." but you do. and he gives it to you.

protective with a capital P—he’s lowkey obsessed with keeping you safe. double-checks locks, watches you cross the street, walks you to class or work when he can. “text me when you get there. i mean it.” he’s not controlling, just always watching out.

quiet jealousy—he hates seeing guys your age flirt with you. he doesn’t say a word but his jaw clenches, his hands fist in his pockets, and later that night, he fucks the doubt out of you. slow, intense, lips at your ear whispering, “mine. say it.”

the age gap gets weaponized—you call him sir when you’re feeling bratty. or wear little skirts just to hear him say “you tryin’ to kill me, baby girl?” there’s power in how easily you can bring him to his knees.

It’s never just about getting off. even when it’s rough. hands pinning you, voice wrecked in your ear. there’s this reverence in the way he touches you. frankie loves like a man who knows what it’s like to lose. and now that he has you, he’s not letting go.

frankie nearly crashes his truck every time you show up wearing a crop top and little athletic shorts with his hoodie hanging off your shoulders. you always play innocent“what? it’s hot out.” while twirling the drawstrings like a threat.

phone full of sins—selfies. videos. voice notes. you send him pictures in the mirror, back arched, lip bit, captioned “wish u were here” he tells you to stop. you never do.

you act like a spoiled pillow princess. pink nails in the sheets, soft moans, all “please, frankie…”but you're a tease under that pout. pulls away when he gets close. giggles when he groans. until he flips you over and ruins you.

bedroom mirror chaos—you love watching. you'll ride him in front of a mirror, looking over your shoulder, pouting like a porn star. frankie’s losing his damn mind under you, hands bruising your hips, gritting, “you like seein’ how fucked out you are, huh?”

he watches your favorite shows even if he doesn’t get them. listens to your spotify playlists, reads your texts with emojis he doesn’t fully understand. he teases you for them, but he’s the one saving memes to send you later.

you make him laugh. really laugh. you pull him out of his darkness. when his ptsd creeps in, your presence is grounding. sometimes you just curl into him and run your fingers through his curls while he breathes you in like oxygen.

text mesages consist of—

"sweetheart, why did my entire truck smell like strawberries? there's also glitter littering the dashboard."

"how do u spell the sound u make when u nut"—"you're blocked."

"go put on pants before i drive over there"—"make me"

you guys have a bond that’s impossible to break, no matter how much either of you fight it. your arguments are heated, your attraction is magnetic, but when it comes down to it, you can’t resist each other. when you say, “you love me,” he grunts, too proud to admit it. until the next time you kiss him breathless, and he knows without a doubt: he does—you bring the fun, the chaos, the fire. he brings the calm, the steadiness, the grounding force. together, you balance out the extremes, creating a strange, beautiful harmony in a relationship built on trust, desire, and the perfect blend of opposites.

pedro pascal mlist!

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒: next up on the poll, one of my fav pedro characters. ugh ive been wanting to write for frankie for sooooo long. so naturally had to write him with an early 20s controversially young gf! with a nice 10-15 yr age gap, duh. lowk might make a couple of these typa headcanons for diff pedro characters

[beef-brisket]

Adam stood over Lucifer's body, and his golden eyes followed the angels' blood as it seeped into the ground. He could hear Abel's screams as the reality of the war started to hit him.

Abel: D-Dad-!

The king slowly looked up and watched as the chaos unfolded around them he only looked down when his son wrapped his arms around his waist.

He cupped Abel's face and smiled as softly as he could at his son: Go inside, my son. Now.

Abel: W-What-? Dad-?

Adam: I'm ending this. Go inside, please. And take your friends.

The prince stared up at his father with his wet green, golden eyes. Adam smiled down at him and kissed his forehead, telling him how much he loved him and his brother. Abel never once thought about his father dying, but this made him actually think of the possibility.

Abel: I-I love you, dad. I-I'm so sorry- I did this.

Adam: Darling. This isn't your fault. It's hers. It's Heaven's. Not yours. Now, go on. Quickly.

After giving his dad one last tight hug, Abel ran off and gathered his friends before ushering them towards Adam's palace.

From high in the sky, Lilith saw the prince and a small crowd of sinners running off: Hey! Where the fuck do you think you cunts are going?!

She spread her silver wings and took off towards them- but mainly the prince. With a random angelic spear in hand, she raised it to strick the prince, but at the last minute, she was hit with a powerful force and thrown to the ground.

Lilith: W-What the fuck-?

Adam: If you touch my son, you REALLY won't be going to heaven, cunt!

Lilith growled as she looked up at the king: Motherfucker- you're not even meant to be here! You're going against the terms-!

Adam: Me?! You pushed the extermination up! I fucking warned you! Any fuck ups, and our deal is over! You don't have the authority to push ANYTHING up! And now, the deaths of your exorcists are on your hands!

Lilith was silent before she laughed: O-Oh my god! Is that what this is about?! I kill your little angel- and now you're using that as an excuse to fight me?!

Adam: You come to MY realm! Kill MY people! THREATEN my CHILDREN! You killed MY angel! I don't need a reason to fight you, motherfucker! But you've given me EVERY reason to fucking KILL YOU!

The angels eyes widen as Adam summoned his black horns and large wings. His tail whipped around, smaking any attempt at a hit Lilith tried to land.

Lilith: That- isn't fucking fair!

Adam: Like I give a shit!

After a few minutes of being utterly humiliated, Lilith was thrown to the ground, Adam's hand clamped over her throat as he landed on top of her.

With his other hand, he started to punch and hit her, breaking the bones in her face over and over.

Adam: You think you can come here, like you fucking own my kingdom?! You cast me down! You wanted NOTHING to do with me! Tricked me! YOU deserve to suffer! ALL OF YOU! I'm going to FUCKING end you!

With the hand Adam was using to hit Lilith, he summoned a pure white flame. She could feel the heat and it wasn't even close to her.

The first woman's violet eyes widened. She wanted to beg for mercy, but no words would come out.

Carver: Father! Enough!

✨️Golden✨️

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

The first humans ran through one of the largest flower fields in Eden. The grass was lush and soft, and each flower was unique and bright.

Every day in Eden was perfect, or that's what the angels tried to say. For the moment, Adam was allowing himself to believe them.

For the last while, the air felt tense. Like something was happening behind the scenes, and Adam didn't know what it was.

Before Lilith was made, he was the special one. The angels pride and joy- their lords favourite. Every angel would crowd around Adam as he sat among the grass, handing them beautiful rocks pebbles he'd found in the clearest ponds in Eden.

But, since Lilith, the angels attention moved to her, and she thrived off it. But what hurt the most was how close Adam's favourite angel got to Lilith. Lucifer looked at the woman the way he used to look at Adam. With love. With wonder. With curiosity.

As the wind blew through his hair, and the tall flowers and grass grazed his legs, Adam smiled at Lilith, who was holding his hand and, for once, smiled at him. Truly smiled at him. Not a snarl or a scowl. She actually looked happy. With him.

They stopped running once they climbed a hill, giving them a full view of Eden and the sky. The pink and blue sky lit up the first humans and their home so perfectly.

Adam looked at Lilith and gazed into her bright, violet eyes. The colour from the sky reflected so brightly in her eyes that the sun made her hair look even more golden. Adam always felt enchanted by Lilith. But the usual inadequacy that came from being around Lilith wasn't present in this moment. Not when the first woman's arms were wrapped around Adam's neck, and his hands were on her soft hips.

Lilith: Adam.

Adam: Lily.

Lilith chuckled at Adam's love drunk expression: My husband. I have a gift for you~.

Adam tilted his head: A gift? My Lily, you've given me everything I could ever ask for.

Moving one of her hands front his shoulders, she ran her fingers and nails down his arm and to the hand on her hips. Taking her husbands hand in hers, she moved it to her stomach.

Lilith: Now, my darling. We both know that's not true~.

Adam: I... d-do you mean it? Really?

Lilith: Of course, darling! But, you must do something for me, first.

The first man hugged Lilith tightly and spun her around, making the woman laugh: N-Now, Adam! Don't get too excited!

Adam: Sorry, Lily!

Taking his hand in hers, Lilith started to pull him back towards the many forests of Eden: Come with me, my bear.

Adam stayed close to Lilith as they walked between the trees and foliage. After a few minutes, Adam noticed how the environment had changed. Instead of warm greens and lush plants, everything was on the verge of dying. Even the grass was bristly and almost painful to stand on.

Adam: I- Lily?

Sensing her husbands worry, she wrapped an arm around his waist: Trust me, darling.

He wanted to trust her. So badly. But he was getting uncomfortable.

The further they walked, the more dead and dark everything became. It was like the very sun was dying. Adam watched where he stepped as there were strange, black veins that covered the ground and what used to be living foliage and trees.

That's when he saw it. On a small hill was a tree with white opalescent bark and golden leaves. Hanging from the branches were the largest, reddest fruit Adam had ever seen.

Adam: Lily...? What is this?

Lilith: Our future, Adam. This is what you'll do for me, and I'm exchanged. I'll give what you desire most. A little one.

Adam: I... I don't know about this.

Cupping his face, Lilith pulled his attention away from the tree and to her: Do you trust me, Adam?

Adam: I do...

Lilith: Then, pick one of the fruits, put it between those darling lips of yours, and devour it. For me, Adam. And for our future children.

Adam: ...Okay, Lilith. I'll do it.

[nozomijoestar]

It took me two watches but of course Nana and the Giraffe work together so well as a backstage team, the movie spells out how much they are literally and metaphorically the food everyone else takes from as their own fuel

[celepeace]

Sometimes I'm surprised that monster hunter isn't more popular among the creature design and spec evo corners of tumblr, at least the portions that also play video games, and then I remember that it's just about as hard as soulsborne games (I'd argue some specific entries are even harder) but doesn't have any of the atmospheric or story elements to attract people. It gets by on sheer gameplay alone and isn't a pvp game either. There is no way to make the game easier besides picking one of the less mechanically complex weapons and git gud. If it wasn't for the neat dinosaurs I couldn't think of a game less alluring to the average tumblr user

[iteratorsex]

You want my take? I fucking hated it. All of them. It's bad.

Aether Ridge does this thing where it needs as MUCH geometry as possible everywhere, and so there's often spots of invisible geometry or it getting in the way. Also it includes an OBNOXIOUS amount of one-way room entrances, which get worse when you realize that AR is so non-linear in its region design it feels like you're trying to get through a fucking labyrinth

Also, the amount of precision parkour in the game with the floppiest controls imaginable sounds like a horrible idea, and it is a horrible idea. AR is designed like its trying to be a Hollow Knight level, which its not

The amount of decoration and fake poles in the regions makes me want to fucking strangle Kaeporo ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCK MY LIFE

There's a lack of food, both devtooled and creature. This lack of food for the lizards also makes them zero in on YOU and ONLY YOU unless there are scavs, and so you'll be chased by 6 lizards through the whole region because they have nothing better to do

The level design feels actively hostile to all creatures, and not in any clever way, but in a "I couldn't be bothered to make the geometry work for lizards" way

Tundra fault doesn't give you lanterns or much of anything aside from like 2 rooms in the whole region, and is also Blue and every room pretty much feels the same. I got stuck here for an absurd amount of time because I didn't know I was supposed to climb up the Worst parkour ever to get to a room that lead to the other half of the region. Also the blizzard lizards are terribly balanced

Blast Deck has a fine wind mechanic, but some of the rooms SERIOUSLY aren't well designed for it. I think the brine is fine but also its placed in awful spots, this combined with the fake poles and weird geo just made me avoid the area altogether. Also its blue and it feels exactly like Tundra Fault

Heat Ducts was honestly the best one, I think some tweaks to the decor and it'd be fine. I like the palette and the differentiation between Thermal and Ducts, and the fire is kinda cool. I kind of wish it was expanded on by someone whos NOT kaeporo because holy fuck. Also why are there yellow lizards here, the geometry is not meant for them

Salination is the worst. I hated it. So bad. I really dislike regions that are super tight on bubbleweed usage, because it doesn't allow you the space to Try Again, also the lack of food and the fact that its confusing to get through makes the swimming sections even more punishing. Submerged Superstructure was already really bad with it but at least you didn't HAVE to visit it

Fetid Glen is my situationship for sure. I think the palette is disgusting and awful to look at and it often makes the background indifferentiable from the foreground. Also there are the invisible platforms (why). The idea behind it is cool I suppose, but a lot of the decor feels both so over the top and so naked, the pipes within much of FG are just not decorated at all and cubic As well as that, there's a terrible swimming section that's long and camped by 6 eel lizards and doesn't lead anywhere. And the BASILISK LIZARDS. The fucking time slowdown is awful, and after a certain amount of time leaves you with permanent stun. Killing them doesn't get rid of the aura. Taming them doesn't get rid of the aura. Nothing you do can get rid of it, and there's no point in trying to interact with the lizard in any way

Shattered Terrace is ok but I don't get why there's creatures there, it feels sorta useless. Also death pits that are not clearly death pits. AR just does this a lot, really

Anyways this is definitely not all of the issues I had with this fuckass region. AR was intended to be a challenge mod with a weird ass preexisting lore that had no place in this DLC, as there are at least several other BETTER mods out there that could've been used. Unfortunately James hasn't talked to the community since like 2019

AR regions include: The Surface/Tundra Fault, Blast Deck/Aether Ridge, Heat Ducts/Thermal Relay, Salination, Cold Storage/Station Annex, Fetid Glen, and Shattered Terrace

[humanjarvis]

lads LIs when you're hesitant to initiate kisses

sylus understands your hesitancy to make yourself vulnerable, but he also can't stand to see you unfulfilled. the first couple times he catches you staring at his lips, he offers nothing but lazy blinks and slow smirks, challenging you to come to him first. but when you look away in uncertainty one too many times, seemingly content to watch your own desires slip away as long as it saves you from embarrassment, he saunters toward you, maintaining eye contact all the way. placing one hand on your hip and the other on your chin, he bends to capture your lips with his, making you stumble with his intensity. his grip on you only tightens when he breaks the kiss, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he tugs you toward his lips. when you lose your balance and fall into his embrace, you realize his game: he’s making you kiss him first 

zayne empathizes with your shyness and hesitancy, afraid to so much as look at you the wrong way in case he offends you. since you’re both too frozen in overthought to make the first move, you don’t become intimate as quickly as most couples, trading physical closeness for emotional understanding. when he walks you to your door after a visit to the bakery, he leaves you with a warm goodnight hug, and you both assume the other is satisfied. only when you think he’s asleep on the sofa one evening and press a fond kiss to his cheek does he realize you share his private desires. the next day, after stoically psyching himself up for 20 minutes, he finds you in the kitchen and kisses you deeply, a pink tinge on his cheeks when he pulls away

caleb wants you to kiss him first—or at least ask him to kiss you—but what if you won’t? he needs to know that you want him—that you’ll willingly give him the privilege of kissing you��so he gives you a few pushes in the right direction. he teases you with heated glances and not-so-accidental touches until you walk up to him, dumb with desire. when you stare up at him helplessly, he settles a large hand on your waist and hovers over your mouth, giving you the chance to push him away. when you don’t, he leans in slowly, tantalizingly, as if wanting to drive home the fact that you’re letting this happen to you—letting him claim your mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. this way, maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the courage to take what you want from him next time—if you let him taste you, there’s no need to be shy anymore, right?

you know rafayel, so you know he would be upset if you expected him to initiate everything—would it kill you to show a little interest in him? that said, you also know that initiating things isn’t really your thing. so, you find a trick that works like a charm: you goad him into kissing you. you’re comfortable enough with kisses to other places—anywhere but the lips—so you adorn his cheeks and neck with soft, chaste kisses until he’s riled up and flushed, his breath coming out in soft pants from the pleasure of feeling wanted. when you pull away, he chases your touch, and all it takes is an innocent giggle from you before he’s pinning you down and stealing your breath away, his tongue tangling with yours in passion and power.

xavier is confused and a bit discouraged when he realizes you never initiate—he thinks you just don’t want to kiss him. one afternoon, you find him sulking in bed, huddled under his comforter with the lights off. worried he’s sick or hurt, you ask what’s wrong, and he gives you 4 pouty non-answers before finally giving in. you can feel your face heat and gut tangle in guilt when he questions if you ever want to kiss him, and with one hand stroking his hair, you confess that you’re simply too shy to kiss him first. he responds with a blink and a whispered “so you do like me, then?”, and when you nod, he tackles you at the speed of light, pressing kisses all over your face before finally claiming your lips

a/n: anon who asked me if i’d ever write for zayne and i hinted at later this week this is not what i was talking about don’t worry, just an impromptu writing exercise to convince myself i’m not washed. also while this technically counts for xavier and raf i’m the least familiar with their cards so idk if/when i can write anything much longer than this for them (love them tho)

[pulcen]

pussydrunk!Sukuna who insists he's only doing it to warm you up for the real deal.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who throws your legs over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, making snarky remarks about how this is just 'foreplay', and not to get too cocky.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who grips your waist hard, going face first into your weeping pussy without intake for air, tongue immediately hitting your most sensitive spots.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who still hasn't come up for air, now moving his attention to what you think is his favorite—your clit, now swollen and tender with how latched he is on it; kitty licks with sucking like it'll kill him.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who rides you through your first orgasm by adding two of his girthy fingers to the mix, pushing them out of your hot walls that clench around his digits every stroke and curl.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who finally comes up to take a breath, chin covered with a translucent sheen of your cum—a nasty trail of slick following him as he gives you a stupid grin; teasing you by slowly lowering himself to your oversensitive sex to continue his ministrations despite your pleas.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who grumbles a short, "Shut up", when you tell him it's becoming too much, hands on your waist only getting tighter to make sure you won't run away; tongue seeming to reach down your messy cunt further as punishment.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who gets annoyed at you for interrupting his feasting with your constant shoving and twisting while you try and get him away from your overstimulated sex, but only getting a slap! on your pussy in return.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who has never seemed more grateful to be a curse in his life with how much stamina he has, each orgasm of yours only resulting in him trying harder to drag another out of you.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who actually moans in pleasure of you hitting your 6th straight orgasm of the night from his eating, the only relief you get is him stopping to grunt, "The next better have you squirting".

pussydrunk!Sukuna who smiles deep in your weeping pussy (so swollen with sensitivity that you're numb) at your screams of his name along with the rough tugs at his hair begging him to give you a break.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who finally is satisfied as you squirt long and hard with tears falling down your cheeks, the liquid that he can't catch in his mouth ending up in his hair, the sheets, and his chest—not like he minds though.

pussydrunk!Sukuna who runs his calloused hand up and down your back when you pass out from tiredness, feeling accomplished he made you hit seven orgasms in 2 and a half hours, but who's really counting?

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[spite-and-waffles]

(alt included)

Link to Video. (Please help Panda make money.)

Video description and transcript under the cut.

Description: TikTok video by The Panda Redd. Re-enactment of final scene of Under the Hood. All roles played by Panda (a tall, well-built young white man with a mohawk, wearing a grey hoodie). Setting is a dark basement lit only by a hanging light bulb.

Transcript.

Jason: (holding gun on Bruce) "Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me."

Batman: (glares silently)

Jason: "But why? Why on God's Earth—" (hits Joker across the face)

Joker (tied to a chair): *cackles*

Jason: "—is HE still alive??"

Joker: "AHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

Batman:

Batman: "I'm sorry, d'you want me to be serious here or—?"

Jason: (in disbelief) "YES, Bruce! I want you to be serious right now! If he had done what he did to me to you, I would've done nothing but search the earth for this pile of death-worshipping garbage!"

Joker: "I love you too, Sugar Plum."

Batman: (holds hands up) "Okay, yeah, I get that, totally, I get that. Um. Have you tried?"

Jason: "Excuse you?"

Batman: "Have you tried to kill him yet?"

Jason: (to Joker) "Is he being serious?"

Joker: (also confused) "I'm gonna be honest with you, Junior. I don't know."

Jason: "Got it. Great." (turns back to Batman) "What the fuck does THAT mean?"

Batman: "Okay, so no, you haven't. Cool. Do it."

Jason:

Jason: (lowers gun) "What."

Batman: "Do it, cap his ass. Shoot him."

Joker: (finally rattled) "I'm gonna go with Junior here, and say...what??"

Jason: "You want me to shoot him?"

Batman: "I want someone to shoot him! Give me the gun, I'll do it!"

Jason: (mutters, brain blue screening) "What is going on right now? This should a lot harder than it is."

Batman: "C'mon, son! You decapitated like eleven people three days ago! Fuckin' do it!"

Joker: (turns to Jason quizzically) "This has gotta be some sort of test, ri—"

(BANG! Jason fires. Joker lands on the floor lifeless, eyes still open.)

Jason: "There, you happy? Jesus. Was that so hard? All of this time and it was THAT easy!"

Jason: "What the fuck is that supposed to—" (looks down at floor where the Joker was lying)

Batman: "I don't know what you're talking about 'easy'. There's nothing there." (nods at floor)

Floor: (is devoid of Joker)

Jason: (stares)

Floor: (continues to be sans anything but carpet)

Jason: "What the fuck?"

Batman: "Yeah."

Jason: "WHAT THE FUCK?"

Batman: "Take as long as you need with this."

Jason: (looking around frantically) "I just shot him! He hit the floor! What the f—" (turns back to the floor)

Floor: (is just vibin')

Jason: "Where the fuck did he go??"

Batman: "See that shit? That shit right there happens every fucking time!"

Jason: "There's not even a blood stain! It's just gone!"

Batman: "Yeah, like two days after you died, I chased him into a helicopter where he got shot like six times. The helicopter exploded and crashed into the ocean. And his body was gone before Superman could find it."

Jason: "Oh my God. I don't understand how this is even fucking possible!"

Batman: "He's like a cryptid! I don't fucking get it!"

Joker: (disembodied laughter) "AHAHAHAHA HAHAHA!"

Jason: (freaked out, turning in circles trying to find him) "Oh my God!"

Batman: "THAT OMINOUS SHIT HAPPENS TOO! I DON'T KNOW, DUDE!"

Jason: "Dude. Fuck whatever's going on here, that's some fucking bullshit."

Batman: "Thank you! Finally someone gets it!"

[bi-writes]

I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.

[arcadia-smith]

Simon Riley x Reader.

The spider was huge—a monstrous thing with spindly legs and way too many eyes, perched on the wall like it owned the place. You stood frozen, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter like it was the only thing keeping you alive.

Simon, standing a few feet away, looked at you, then at the spider, then back at you. His expression—what little of it was visible beneath his balaclava—was unimpressed.

"Love," he drawled, arms crossed over his broad chest. "It's just a spider."

"That is not just a spider," you countered, taking a step back. "That is Satan's hand-crafted nightmare."

His shoulders shook with what you were certain was laughter.

"You've seen worse," he pointed out, gesturing vaguely. "War zones. Explosions. Men trying to kill you."

"Yeah, and I shot back. What am I supposed to do here? Talk it to death?"

Simon sighed, moving toward the wall like this was some minor inconvenience and not a full-fledged emergency. "It's smaller than you," he said, reaching for it.

You scoffed. "So is a grenade, fuck off."

That stopped him. He turned to look at you, head tilting slightly.

"That's fair," he admitted.

For a moment, you thought he might actually be on your side—until he, the traitor, cupped the spider in his bare hands and started toward you.

"Nope. Nope, nope, nope!" You nearly tripped over your own feet as you scrambled backward, grabbing the nearest thing—a wooden spoon—and holding it up defensively. "I swear to God, Simon, you bring that thing near me, and I will commit war crimes."

He huffed out a quiet laugh and veered toward the open window instead, tossing the spider outside like it was nothing. Turning back to you, he shook his head.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, well," you muttered, still clutching the spoon, "so is holding a spider with your bare hands like some kind of psychopath."

He stepped closer, leaning down so his masked face was inches from yours. "Want me to hold you with my bare hands instead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "Are you flirting with me after nearly giving me a heart attack?"

He smirked under the mask. "Maybe."

You exhaled sharply, shoving the spoon into his chest. "Get out of my kitchen, Riley."

His chuckle followed him as he retreated, muttering something about you being afraid of a bloody spider while you swore vengeance under your breath.

[gyaruhana]

pls write for thanos with hatefucking… like that man has that potential after seeing how he talks to the other contestants

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Thanos hate each other and, no matter how many death threats he sends your way, you never listen. So he decides that, if threats don't work, maybe you need to be fucked instead.

A/N: wrote this in like two hours max so it may not be the best but I tried anyway !! I love Thanos so much and hatefuck with him has me thirstyy

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, blowjob, degradation, thanos is a little meanie and you're sassy

If there was one thing that could be said for sure about Thanos, it's that he was a total fucking dickhead. 

From the very first game you played in this hellhole, he had been nothing but a problem. He skipped around like he owned the place and had no problem with sacrificing a few people. Not to mention, he was loud. So annoyingly loud. 

Unfortunately for you, he seemed to really hate you too. Maybe it was the fact you kept glaring at him like he did something or the way you'd make some sort of sarcastic comment every time he spoke. Whatever the reason, the feeling was mutual. He hated you. You hated him. That was the end of it.

Well, it should've been. 

As if some divine being took joy in your pain, Thanos walked up to you while you were alone with an angry look - clearly having something to say to you. You could guess he was going to try to threaten you into choosing to continue the games next vote since you had chosen not to.

“Yo. It'd be in your best interest to choose the blue button. It's really pissing me off when you keep pressing that red x button every time,” he spoke as he looked down at you from where you sat.

“Or what?” You say as you stand up and look at him with disdain. You weren't about to let this idiot try to scare you into doing what he wants. You weren't his slave. “Or I'll fucking kill you,” he says as he steps closer with a look that seemed like he meant it. Honestly, you didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He's been killing people since the first game and it certainly won't be any different for you.

“Ooh, scary,” you say sarcastically before pushing past him. You didn't get far before he grabbed your wrist and turned you around, pulling you close to him. “You don't think I'll do it? Cause you'd be wrong,” he says as he looks at you dead in the eyes. You harshly pulled your wrist away from his grip and gave him a scoff.

“You're too much of a pussy to do shit. The only thing that gives you confidence are those dumb little pills you take,” you say as you look at him, challenging him to say something else.

It was quiet as you two just stared at each other, both silently praying for the other's death. He lets out an annoyed huff before finally breaking eye contact to look to the side. Without another word, he pushes past you and walks back to the other side of the room where the rest of the people who wanted to continue playing the game were. If that idiot really thought he could sway you, he'd soon learn you aren't swayed by death threats from high dumbasses.

When it came time to vote, you could feel Thanos staring you down. You turned your head to look back at him with an eyebrow raised and he turned his head away. You could see the annoyance all over his face. 

One by one, each player went up and placed their vote. The numbers were quite even and it was hard to tell who'd end up victorious in this vote. When it was Thanos's turn to vote, he made a point of stopping right behind you before he walked down.

“Remember what I said earlier. I'll kill you,” he whispers before walking past and skipping down towards the buttons. He kissed the blue button before walking over to the corresponding side but he was looking straight at you.

You ignored his hard glare and walked down to the buttons. You raised your hand and, no surprise, pressed the red button. You turned to him and flipped him off with a small smirk before walking off to the other side. 

For a moment, you actually thought you'd get away with that because it seemed that more people wanted to leave now. However, that was not the case as the result ended up being a tie.

Great. You were stuck here for longer. You definitely wouldn't be able to avoid Thanos if you were stuck here till tomorrow. He didn't seem to walk up to you immediately. It was like he was waiting for the right time to strike. All he did was stare at you from across the room as if he was formulating the most brutal way to tear you limb by limb. And, wow, he stared at you for a very long time. 

It wasn't until there were 5 minutes before lights out did he come to you. You were all by yourself in a corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention. They were all so busy in their own whispered conversations.

“Hey, it seems you didn't understand me the first time,” he says as he grabs you by your shirt and pushes you against the wall behind you. “I said I'd kill you if you pressed the red button,” he continues as he looks at you with annoyance.

“Go ahead then. Kill me,” you say as you look at him with a small smirk. He might have already killed a few people but you didn't believe he'd have the guts to kill people outside of the games.

He was quiet. All he did was stare. It was as if he was calculating some thoughts. He looked toward the timer on the wall before looking back at you.

“You're fucking unbearable,” he speaks before he's suddenly slamming his lips against yours. You didn't expect this move. You expected him to stab you or choke you - not kiss you.

You push him away with a glare. You couldn't be kissing this idiot. You hated him and he was fucking stupid. But even with that hate, there was something about the way he kissed you that had you thinking twice.

Fuck, you were doing this. 

You pulled him in by his collar and pressed your lips against his. There was nothing romantic about this kiss. It was pure hate. Just angry, rough kissing as if it would solve anything. His hands were all over your body before they finally decided to settle on your hips with a tight grip. He pulled away before starting to leave kisses along your neck. He wasn't gentle at all. He was biting you as if he wanted to draw blood.

“You're such a fucking bitch. Always acting so smug. I'm gonna shut you the fuck up,” he says as his hand goes to your hair before yanking it back roughly to give him better access to your neck. 

“You're the fucking bitch. Always walking around like you own the place,” you say back and in response he bites your neck hard making you wince slightly at the pain. “watch your fucking mouth,” he spoke as he pulled away and wrapped a hand around your throat. As if on cue, the lights suddenly turned off leaving you two in the dark.

He let out a small laugh as it went dark before he removed the hand on your hip and instead started pulling your pants down. 

“I'm gonna fuck you till you learn you're not in control, I am,” he says before pulling his own pants down. He wasn't going to play nice or take it easy. Not when you hadn't played nice with him. 

“You think you can fuck me into submission? You're way too fucking cocky,” you say with a quiet laugh, finding it amusing how he thought you'd fold once he started fucking you. “We’ll see,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening to shut you up. He pulled his boxers down slightly, enough to let his dick out, before he pushed your panties to the side.

“I'm gonna show you not to fuck with me again,” he whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. Without another word, he starts slowly thrusting himself in till he's all the way inside you.

“You're such a fucking whore,” he says as he starts to pull out before thrusting in again with one stroke. He kept a pace of being fast and hard as if trying to make you feel his hate on a spiritual level. 

Well, God you could definitely feel it. He kept leaving aggressive bites all over your neck as he thrust into you. His hand around your neck kept its firm grip, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe. 

He wasn't fucking you for pleasure, he was fucking you to make you learn a lesson. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to choke you till your vision got blurry. He wanted it to be clear he hated you with every fiber of his being. 

His free hand went down to your clit and he pinched it before rubbing it with a circular motion. He wasn't gentle so it brought a mix of both pain and pleasure. A feeling that brought you closer to the edge of a sweet, sweet release. He could feel you tighten around his cock and it made him let out a groan which turned into a small mocking laugh.

“Fuck, are you- going to cum? Already?” He says mockingly with a smirk. He took pleasure in knowing he could control you like this. Control someone who seemed to hate him. “C'mon, cum on my cock then, whore,” he said before pressing his lips to yours roughly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and he was clearly eager to get you to cum. 

With a slight angle of his hips, he thrusted into just the right spot that had you tipping far over the edge. He let out a groan at the feeling of you coming undone on his cock before he quickly pulled out. 

He released your throat and grabbed your hair instead before forcing you onto your knees. You looked up at him with a glare and he returned it with the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up. “suck my cock so I can come,” he said as he brought his cock closer to your mouth. He really didn't hesitate when you opened your mouth and immediately forced himself in with a groan at the feeling. 

“God.. do you taste yourself on my dick?” He says as he looks down at you. He thrusts into your mouth making you gag and he just laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You're such a fucking bitch when you talk shit. I like you better like this,” he speaks as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

“I'm gonna cum in your mouth and you're gonna swallow, yeah?” He says before throwing his head back with a groan. It didn't take long before you felt his cum run down your throat. He thrusted a little more as he came down from his high before finally pulling out of your mouth. There was drool running down your chin as he pulled his boxers and pants up before kneeling in front of you.

“Swallow my cum,” he orders as he tilts his head at you and waits. You look up at him before turning your head and spitting onto the floor instead. 

“I think I'll pass,” you say as you look up at him once again with a glare. Tension rose between you two again but this time, it was different. Sure, it was hate, but there was undeniably a different punishment waiting instead of an argument.

“Then I guess you haven't learnt your lesson,”

[deathbxnny]

Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠

Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️

Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》VI

She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.

You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.

And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.

Why, why, why.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.

Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.

"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"

She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."

Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.

She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.

》CAITLYN

"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.

It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.

Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.

The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"

Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.

"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.

She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.

There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.

For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.

》JINX

Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.

The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.

"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?

"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.

Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.

Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.

Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.

》EKKO

To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.

Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.

Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.

And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.

"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.

"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."

He let you win.

》SEVIKA

She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.

You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.

And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.

She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.

Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.

"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.

"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.

"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."