#I don’t even remember who wrote you
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ezekiel13 · 3 months ago
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I hated poetry until I was 13
Do you know what made me stop?
I sat next to this girl in English. We did not get along. She threatened to kill me a few times, standard stuff.
She hated it when I recited the poems we learnt. So I started memorising them. (We did not have to. We had to know quotes for our GCSEs)
And in memorising some of the poems to annoy this girl I hated, I gained an affection for them and started to understand them
And then when I was 15 and in my English GCSE I:
1) Did much better than I thought possible because of how much effort I put in, all of which stemmed from a petty hate
2) OMG FUCKING HELL THIS POEM IS SO GOOD SEAMUS HEANEY HOT DAMN (unseen poetry)
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pumpkin-magpie · 4 days ago
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Also with the changing skies excerpts out, here’s the reminder that apparently needs to given a second time:
- People with chimerism exist in real life.
- People with schizophrenia and people who are systems or anyone else with “voices” exist in real life.
- All of these people exist in the warriors fandom and can see your posts and read the books.
- Equating a fetus being absorbed with the death of a fully-developed individual capable of having a “ghost” can once again be Creepy Anti-Abortion Rhetoric™️
- And of course, this rhetoric can be and has been used against those with chimerism
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sailforvalinor · 9 months ago
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Val Is Pretty Sure She Might Be Losing Her Mind, more at 11
#okay so y’all. do you happen to remember Alcott Boy? the guy I had a crush on from school last year (or really the whole time I’ve been in#college honestly) who had Opinions on Little Women#yeah him. anyway I thought I was over my crush on him but GUESS WHAT it’s back and worse than ever#like I only have one class with him that’s once a week but guys guys I feel like I’m LOSING MY MIND like. I’ve never felt the urge to#actually go up to a guy and say ‘hey do you wanna go out with me?’!! like I would never actually do that but the urge is most definitely#there??? and it’s not even that he’s cute (although I mean I think he’s cute) but he’s really really intelligent and funny and very notably#always willing to bring up his faith in class discussions (and this isn’t really the campus for that) and I’ve always admired him for that#(this is also the boy that looked at something I wrote in fiction class and said ‘that’s it that’s what love is supposed to be like!!’ LIKE#) and I genuinely don’t know what to do#like should I be concerned that I feel this strongly so soon after The Boy?? should I be concerned that this might just be limerance???#my roommate has been offering to talk to him for me and ask if he’s single and is it insane that I’m actually considering it???#like if I’m going to now is the ideal time—I’ve already had my class with him this week and spring break is next week#and I’m certain he would never make me feel bad if he didn’t feel the same. but if he did wouldn’t he have said something by now? I don’t#know I don’t know I don’t knooowww#but I graduate in two months and I don’t want to regret it for the rest of my life
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chilapis · 7 months ago
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Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.
#not said sarcastically or as a vent by the way I genuinely find it so terribly amusing. you think I have it together ? aw <3 you fool.#i’ve been pacing around my room like a starving lion since the past week in whatever free time i’ve had.#and i keep getting people in my messages begging me for last minute help ? which is endearing but. i’m hanging on for dear life myself#helping isn’t foreign to me; i have 4 (?) people in my class who almost exclusively refer to me as ma’am and even refer to me as a teacher.#but helping last minute is so. deeply chaotic.#and I have this issue with me where having others around me makes me immediately drop into a ‘role’ of sorts?#i’ll be freaking out but then someone else starts freaking out around me and my immediate response is to just.#hey. we are going to make it out of this. it’s easy as pie. do you see me worried? no right? <- on the verge of hyperventilating#there’s this one guy in particular who got so excited to find out we have the exact same examination set-up tomorrow.#i gave him like basic pointers and i don’t think i’ve ever been thanked so earnestly and desperately in my life.#i remember during mocks my friends would message me what I wrote in questions and then they’d immediately go oh thank Fuck.#they’d literally just act like they’re absolutely going to pass now just because we had points ​in common.#as if i’m some sort of fucked up correct answer sheet incarnate.#it’s genuinely really sweet to me though; like i’m not posting this ranting or such.#having so much faith in another to the point that you can put yourself completely at ease says. alot i think.#and i’m glad i can be that person for so many.#and I feel like it helps me in a way too because i become so concerned with others that I forget to drown myself in my worries.#i forget that I’m worried because there are others to care about and console and help. so i suppose they help me in a way as well.#but also who is going to be that person for ME. who is going to console ME. im going fucking neurotic /jest#<- woman with ego issues & control issues who would rather die than accept help.#sigh. oh well. I’m sure we’ll do just fine. cannot wait#🥀🍷 — colloquy.
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remember-ur-alive · 4 months ago
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CHAT I MISS MY S^W YA0I
#I GOT REMINDED OF AN ASK I SENT BC OF GVNPLAY @DAVIDCRIES I MISS YOUUUUUUU#I don’t even know what happened to them but they disappeared off of the following of my old ns/ft blog and I can’t find them :(#(I know one letter was like an x or v instead I cannot remember for the life of me)#fuck it we ball im writing the ideas I remember here#str^hm and amanda au. obv#str^hm and amanda n<cro <3 this was one of my favorites bc it was toxic and major angst#l^wrence catching adam taking pictures of him (i dont remember what he did to him but it was silly and torturous ✨✨)#SIZE QUEEN H0FFMAN. THE CUTTING OFF A CERTAIN PART H0FFMAN ADJSDHDHDD#b0bby dagen s0unding with a stiletto <3 im not even into that i think my instincts against pathetic men (IAPM) just kicked in#l^wrence and his wife double d0mming adam. the way he literally would be happiest with two of the toughest d0ms i wrote#(they had a fantasy where alison punishes adam for him and l^wrence che^ting teehee. it had me wound up for days)#oagh there’s so many. I even know im missing a lot of them I was 24/7/365 hypersexual at that time ok#THE LOGAN/H0FFMAN STUFF. I STAND BY IT THEY FUCKED NASTY IN THAT WAREHOUSE. PROBSBLY LEFT MARKS AND STAINS NOBODY TALKS ABT TOO GRIMY MFS#OH. L^WRENCE MAKING FUN OF A SVBS STUTTER. I KNOW I WOULD CRY IF THAT HAPPENED TO ME (which is the point but whatever) BUT CMONNNNNNN#adam grinding on the end of l^wrence’s cane I think was either mine or just one of my favorites#l^wrence putting an escaped victim back into the trap to sit and watch them die <3#ST^LKER L^WRENCE 🥰🥰🥰 WHERE HE THREATENS YOUR FAMILY INTO CONVINCING YOU TO DATE HIM#amanda knifefvcking someone with the blade <3 again I stand by that#WAIT MY GVNPLAY THING WASNT EVEN GVNPLAY. WAILS I NEVER WROTE THEM WITH GVNPLAY??????????#ok whatever. last one is zepp thighfvcking someone at kn1fepoint <3#in conclusion. I am a normal person with normal fantasies who can be trusted with adult characters (as sirens go off in the background)
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glennmillerorchestra · 2 years ago
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if i hear one more person* say something along the lines of “mccartney was a pop star, lennon was an artist” i will lose my goddamn mind
*middle-aged men with music opinions that are wrong
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tariah23 · 8 months ago
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Hm.
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rosicheeks · 8 months ago
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🌸🦖🌿?
-🌸
🌸 Best compliment you ever received?
I feel like it had to be something about my personality. Personality compliments are always top tier for me and then singing compliments are probably next 🩷
🦖 Favorite extinct animal?
Dinosaurs???? I’m sorry I’m awful lol
🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.
Right now I don’t think I have a *favorite* outfit. My go to outfit when I want to look cute is usually a skirt and a top that is either a crop top or I crop myself 😂
#I actually have a box somewhere of a bunch of hand written compliments I got when I was in school#some were notes and some was from church#even if I don’t know the person anymore it’s still nice to look back at them#also my school had a Facebook page where you could anonymously post compliments about other students so I wrote those down somewhere too 🫶#true and genuine compliments really hit me deep#the you’re beautiful or cool or nice or sweet#is nice to hear but it’s nowhere near the feeling you get when someone actually says something from the heart#sad thing is I don’t remember many personality compliments - I remember a few singing compliments but not many and I have a feeling that#my negative thoughts over the years just ended up drowning them out or ya know my memory sucks either way lol#my first thought was dinosaurs and then I was like nah they aren’t animals so I tried looking up extinct animals but then I got overwhelmed#so I was like eh I’m gonna just put dinosaurs but then I thought about it and was like……. if dinosaurs aren’t animals what are they#so I looked it up and I saw two different things saying either animal/reptile (I’m guessing depending on what type but who the fuck knows)#as for outfit that’s a hard one still - I don’t go out much so I don’t wear half of my closet#most of the time I’m just wearing some comfy pants and a some random shirt#but I’ve been trying to go out more so I’ve been going through my closet and trying different outfits#nothing is really *clicking* and tbh it’s probably cause I should get rid of all of it and start fresh#but that’s a lot of fucking money sooooooo not gonna do that lol#anyway thank you for the questions lovely 🩷🫶#it was fitting for you to do the 🌸 it made me smile 🥰#ask#🌸 anon
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cleolinda · 5 months ago
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AITA for banning my husband and father in law from the delivery room due to their intensely stressful/creepy behavior during my pregnancy?
There’s a famous Reddit post from 2020 where a pregnant woman wrote that her husband and father-in-law were a little too comfortable with their certainty that she was absolutely going to die in childbirth just like her husband’s late mother. It was to the point where her FIL was insisting that she go ahead and put all her clothes into storage, because she was obviously going to die in the hospital and it would save them the grief of packing up her things afterwards. Like. It was WILD.
When I tell my husband [that she feels suspicious of her FIL], he calls me paranoid, but I feel like my FIL WANTS me to die; his whole life identity for the past 35 years has been “amazing single dad” (never dated or had close friends or even hobbies really), and it seems like he’s looking forward to being able to guide my husband through what he went through. At this point, I’d honestly be happy to never see my FIL again, and I certainly don’t want him in the delivery room, especially since he told me he was “putting [his] foot down” about me not being “allowed” to have an epidural…. My husband, in addition to backing his dad on everything, acts like my due date is my death date, and has completely pulled away from me.
The commenters (and me, honestly) were convinced that the husband and FIL were either going to kill her outright to fulfill this expectation, or just make decisions about her care that might conveniently let her die.
And then she never posted again.
Over the last four years, people have frequently mentioned that post, always leading to a thread of people saying, “Oh god, I still worry about that woman.” I did too. It became one of those famous unresolved posts that people always wondered about.
Until yesterday, when someone on r/BestOfRedditorUpdates dug up a 2022 update she had posted on a different account:
TLDR; I had a beautiful and healthy baby girl, and I divorced my ex-husband. I lived, obviously.
She writes that she put her foot down about having her own mother in the delivery room rather than her FIL (!), and she WOULD be getting an epidural. Her husband lost his shit. And in his outburst, he let slip--
I admittedly lost my temper, and told him that I wasn’t going to die- it wasn’t my fault his father’s trauma wormed it’s way into his head, and that he needed to fix it without taking it out on me. He yelled at me that he didn’t need therapy. That caught me a little off guard; I asked him why he went to his therapist and was given advice about my death if he felt he didn’t need it. His expression gave it away, and he caved not long after. It turns out there was no therapist. It was just his dad. During the times he was supposed to be at therapy, he was with his dad. I’m still fuming.
And that was when she got the fuck out.
I’ll wrap this up- I’ve got an adorable little toddler tugging at my leg atm. I’m alive, I’m happy, and I’ve got my baby in my arms. Life is good.
I truly never thought we'd see a resolution to this, and I feel like there's probably a good number of people who remember it, so I thought you might want to know.
ETA: Brilliantly, I put the link in at the top; here it is again for convenience.
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why-animals-do-the-thing · 4 months ago
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average United States contains 1000s of pet tigers in backyards" factoid actualy [sic] just statistical error. average person has 0 tigers on property. Activist Georg, who lives the U.S. Capitol & makes up over 10,000 each day, has purposefully been spreading disinformation adn [sic] should not have been counted
I have a big mad today, folks. It's a really frustrating one, because years worth of work has been validated... but the reason for that fucking sucks.
For almost a decade, I've been trying to fact-check the claim that there "are 10,000 to 20,000 pet tigers/big cats in backyards in the United States." I talked to zoo, sanctuary, and private cat people; I looked at legislation, regulation, attack/death/escape incident rates; I read everything I could get my hands on. None of it made sense. None of it lined up. I couldn't find data supporting anything like the population of pet cats being alleged to exist. Some of you might remember the series I published on those findings from 2018 or so under the hashtag #CrouchingTigerHiddenData. I've continued to work on it in the six years since, including publishing a peer reviewed study that counted all the non-pet big cats in the US (because even though they're regulated, apparently nobody bothered to keep track of those either).
I spent years of my life obsessing over that statistic because it was being used to push for new federal legislation that, while well intentioned, contained language that would, and has, created real problems for ethical facilities that have big cats. I wrote a comprehensive - 35 page! - analysis of the issues with the then-current version of the Big Cat Public Safety Act in 2020. When the bill was first introduced to Congress in 2013, a lot of groups promoted it by fear mongering: there's so many pet tigers! they could be hidden around every corner! they could escape and attack you! they could come out of nowhere and eat your children!! Tiger King exposed the masses to the idea of "thousands of abused backyard big cats": as a result the messaging around the bill shifted to being welfare-focused, and the law passed in 2022.
The Big Cat Public Safety Act created a registry, and anyone who owned a private cat and wanted to keep it had to join. If they did, they could keep the animal until it passed, as long as they followed certain strictures (no getting more, no public contact, etc). Don’t register and get caught? Cat is seized and major punishment for you. Registering is therefore highly incentivized. That registry closed in June of 2023, and you can now get that registration data via a Freedom of Information Act request.
Guess how many pet big cats were registered in the whole country?
97.
Not tens of thousands. Not thousands. Not even triple digits. 97.
And that isn't even the right number! Ten USDA licensed facilities registered erroneously. That accounts for 55 of 97 animals. Which leaves us with 42 pet big cats, of all species, in the entire country.
Now, I know that not everyone may have registered. There's probably someone living deep in the woods somewhere with their illegal pet cougar, and there's been at least one random person in Texas arrested for trying to sell a cub since the law passed. But - and here's the big thing - even if there are ten times as many hidden cats than people who registered them - that's nowhere near ten thousand animals. Obviously, I had some questions.
Guess what? Turns out, this is because it was never real. That huge number never had data behind it, wasn't likely to be accurate, and the advocacy groups using that statistic to fearmonger and drive their agenda knew it... and didn't see a problem with that.
Allow me to introduce you to an article published last week.
This article is good. (Full disclose, I'm quoted in it). It's comprehensive and fairly written, and they did their due diligence reporting and fact-checking the piece. They talked to a lot of people on all sides of the story.
But thing that really gets me?
Multiple representatives from major advocacy organizations who worked on the Big Cat Publix Safety Act told the reporter that they knew the statistics they were quoting weren't real. And that they don't care. The end justifies the means, the good guys won over the bad guys, that's just how lobbying works after all. They're so blase about it, it makes my stomach hurt. Let me pull some excerpts from the quotes.
"Whatever the true number, nearly everyone in the debate acknowledges a disparity between the actual census and the figures cited by lawmakers. “The 20,000 number is not real,” said Bill Nimmo, founder of Tigers in America. (...) For his part, Nimmo at Tigers in America sees the exaggerated figure as part of the political process. Prior to the passage of the bill, he said, businesses that exhibited and bred big cats juiced the numbers, too. (...) “I’m not justifying the hyperbolic 20,000,” Nimmo said. “In the world of comparing hyperbole, the good guys won this one.”
"Michelle Sinnott, director and counsel for captive animal law enforcement at the PETA Foundation, emphasized that the law accomplished what it was set out to do. (...) Specific numbers are not what really matter, she said: “Whether there’s one big cat in a private home or whether there’s 10,000 big cats in a private home, the underlying problem of industry is still there.”"
I have no problem with a law ending the private ownership of big cats, and with ending cub petting practices. What I do have a problem with is that these organizations purposefully spread disinformation for years in order to push for it. By their own admission, they repeatedly and intentionally promoted false statistics within Congress. For a decade.
No wonder it never made sense. No wonder no matter where I looked, I couldn't figure out how any of these groups got those numbers, why there was never any data to back any of the claims up, why everything I learned seemed to actively contradict it. It was never real. These people decided the truth didn't matter. They knew they had no proof, couldn't verify their shocking numbers... and they decided that was fine, if it achieved the end they wanted.
So members of the public - probably like you, reading this - and legislators who care about big cats and want to see legislation exist to protect them? They got played, got fed false information through a TV show designed to tug at heartstrings, and it got a law through Congress that's causing real problems for ethical captive big cat management. The 20,000 pet cat number was too sexy - too much of a crisis - for anyone to want to look past it and check that the language of the law wouldn't mess things up up for good zoos and sanctuaries. Whoops! At least the "bad guys" lost, right? (The problems are covered somewhat in the article linked, and I'll go into more details in a future post. You can also read my analysis from 2020, linked up top.)
Now, I know. Something something something facts don't matter this much in our post-truth era, stop caring so much, that's just how politics work, etc. I’m sorry, but no. Absolutely not.
Laws that will impact the welfare of living animals must be crafted carefully, thoughtfully, and precisely in order to ensure they achieve their goals without accidental negative impacts. We have a duty of care to ensure that. And in this case, the law also impacts reservoir populations for critically endangered species! We can't get those back if we mess them up. So maybe, just maybe, if legislators hadn't been so focused on all those alleged pet cats, the bill could have been written narrowly and precisely.
But the minutiae of regulatory impacts aren't sexy, and tiger abuse and TV shows about terrible people are. We all got misled, and now we're here, and the animals in good facilities are already paying for it.
I don't have a conclusion. I'm just mad. The public deserves to know the truth about animal legislation they're voting for, and I hope we all call on our legislators in the future to be far more critical of the data they get fed.
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loadsofcats · 4 months ago
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I am reblogging this again, for Me, because I never seem to be able to find it whenever I am looking for it.
i’m actually pretty sure that aliens are fairies but i don’t think we’re ready for that conversation 
#also i’d like to say#in ye olden days when you had no electricity and light of course you’d be afraid of the dark#of the cold forest of that which you don’t know and cannot see#the forest is not for you; the darkness Will consume you if you linger#but now when you have lights and so little natural darkness left#and it can be destroyed by a simple flashlight (if there even is dark left in your well-lit neigbourhood)#the forest is nowhere near you. Of course you don’t fear it#but there Is dark left and it is in space#when everyone is taking care that nothing comes through your street#something can still swoop down from the sky and snatch you#and that’s where the aliens come in#but it really is similar though - some things stay the same#dancing lights; strange sounds; feeling dazed and not remembering clearly where you were#timeskips as well (idk how you call that)#And another thing is that people are usually afraid of the unknown but now that unknown is the space rather than the forest or open field#but since people feel like nature has been somewhat “conquered” (or rather they were taken out of the wilderness)#something else has taken its place#someone with more advanced technology; who can also see us and control us#i am not an alien enthusiast to be clear. Something Could be out there but that’s none of my business#anyway#i was also going to say that it’s very interesting to me how exactly everything the aliens are imagined they’d do to us#is what we do to those who we are more “advanced” than (like animals;#taking them out of their habitat to be measured and weighed and then releasing them;#only we know why we do it (afaik))#oh dear i wrote a lot#it talks#tag edition#fae folk#aliens#fairy
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sugume · 10 months ago
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BORED N’ IGNORED w/Jujutsu Kaisean
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( TW ) f!reader, explicit content, bored!Sukuna & Toji, Ignored!Gojo & Choso cunnilingus, thigh riding, blow job, humiliation, face fucking, fingering, reader snaps a pic of gojo and sends it to her friend, sub!Choso or is he just a pleasure dom…?
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso Kamo + Toji Fushiguro 
authors note: I re-wrote this like 10 times so pls ignore any mistakes. also, me posting everyone but Geto on his birthday is criminal...
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☾ CHOSO KAMO 
“Haha! I got the kill! Finally,” You cheer. “Oh shit, someone's chasing me.” You move your controller, focused on getting yourself to safety, ignoring your boyfriend who's underneath your desk eating you out like a starved man.  
Choso just wants to make you cum. He knows he's in the doghouse for what he did last night so he’s trying to make it up to you. He didn’t know you were going to treat him like some common whore though. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s eating you out on the cold hard floor. He wants to scream but he knows you’d be even more angry, so he makes it his mission to make you cum so hard you have no choice but to talk to him.  
He sucks your clit harder, rubbing his fingers inside your gummy walls. You clench around them but show no sign on the outside that you’re about to cum. He knows his girl though. Knows you better than you know yourself. He smirks into your clit. 
“Shit—oh fuck—they won’t get off my tail—oh my god!” You scream at the game, trying and failing to mask your pleasure. Choso adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you good you almost drop the controller on his head.  
Choso picks up the pace, sucking on your clit so hard he’s scared he might leave a bruise—and finally, you acknowledge him.
“m’gonna cum! Choso!” you cry, reaching down to pull his hair as you cum all over his face.
☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA 
“Look at me!” You cry, kissing up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth You go as deep as you can before gagging. You pull back up and suck on his tip. You look up at Sukuna who doesn’t even look affected, staring at the TV. You dig your nails into his thighs. He doesn't react. 
“Kuna!” You scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look down at you. He stares at you with disinterest. “What?” 
“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” You hiccup, sitting back on your knees and grabbing his cock. You squeeze it. 
“You want my attention little one?” He grins down at you. You sniffle and nod, bending down to kiss the tick of his cock. He pats you head and you almost cry in relief.  
“Oh, so damned touch starved—upset ‘ve been ignoring you? I apologize little one. I'll make it up to you.” He grabs your head with both hands, guiding you to his cock. You open your mouth and take him in again. He grunts, pushing you to the hilt even as you gag and try to pull yourself up. He lifts your head back up before slamming it down on his cock. You claw at his thighs. “Giving you all my attention now. Gonna face fuck you ‘til you don’t remember your fucking own name.” 
☾ GOJO SATORU 
Satoru holds onto your thighs as he pushes his leaky cock into you. He needed this so bad after the day he had. He didn’t even pay mind to what you were doing before throwing his clothes off and climbing onto the bed. 
“Fuck—Feel good, Angel?” Gojo questions as he thrusts into you from his place above you. You don’t hear him though, too busy texting your friend about the latest drama that happened in your friend group.  
“Angel, did you hear me?” Satoru moves his hands from your waist to your tits. He pinches hard. You grunt, the grip on your phone wavering. Satoru’s harsh thrusts distract you for a second before you come back to your senses and read your friend's text. ‘Why are you making so many spelling mistakes LOL?’ You grin, clicking the camera and turning it to Satoru who looks down at you half angry and half pussy drunk. You snap a blurry picture of his sweaty abs and V-line before clicking send. Your friend laughs. 
“Angel,” Satoru whines grabbing your phone. “Stop treating me like some crapy dildo machine!” He holds the phone over his head with one hand, the other holding you down by the tummy. 
“Toru! I was having an important conversation,” You moan, wrapping your legs around his hips, digging your heels into his ass. He grunts his heavy hand on your tummy moving to squeeze your side. “Please, baby? Just gotta send one more text then I'm all yours—promise.”  
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 
You hold onto Toji’s bicep as you ride his thigh. You grind your pussy harder onto his leg, making sure your clit drags over the hard material of his pants. You moan and look down at the dark patch your slick is making. 
“Can you quiet down princess? Need to finish this application and you're distracting me.” Toji says, erasing the sentence he knows is incomprehensible. You moan louder. Throwing your head back and arching your tits up in his face. He grunts, turning to the side to rewrite his response.  
You huff, if he wants to play like that. "You better not ask me to get you off later today.” You grumble, moving your own hands up to twist and tug your nipples. Your legs tighten around his thick thigh. You feel yourself getting closer.  You grind down harder, pussy clenching around nothing.  
“Gonna cum! Ahh—feels so good, you feel s’good!” You slur, legs shaking as an orgasm washes over you. You slump down against Toji’s big chest. Toji’s face heats. He doesn't know whether to be pissed off or turned on that you just came all over his thigh like that. He grumbles something inaudible, bringing a hand down to grab a handful of your ass as he presses submit. “Oh, you’re fucking on princess.” 
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milktiicup · 9 days ago
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do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling
persistence is key
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<
warnings. canon typical violence >w<
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You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.
Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 
You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”
In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.
At least for a while, he left you alone.
Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.
However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.
It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.
A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 
You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?
You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.
Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.
And Mr. Scarletella. 
The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.
“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”
Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 
You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 
“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.
Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 
“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 
That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.
“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”
The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.
You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”
Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.
“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 
The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 
The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.
“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”
He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 
“No. Go away.”
“Give name. Teach.”
“Go away!”
“Teach name.”
“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”
He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 
“Wrong name.”
“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.
“You teach them name?”
Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.
“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”
“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 
Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 
You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.
Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 
“Hehe.”
You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 
You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.
Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 
You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.
Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  
“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”
“Help you.”
“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”
Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 
“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”
“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”
Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”
“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”
“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 
You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”
He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.
He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”
Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 
Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 
Oh my good God, does he like you?
“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”
You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…
Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  
“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 
Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 
He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”
“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”
“Them!” 
Curse this damn language. 
“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”
His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…
Umbrella.
You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.
That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 
Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 
How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!
You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!
In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.
Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 
“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”
Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.
Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 
“Can’t give name,” you remind him.
He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 
Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 
“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”
“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”
“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”
There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 
And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”
You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.
But at least something is better than nothing, right?
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malachitezmeyka · 1 year ago
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I have. SO MANY THOUGHTS about toxic codependent sibling relationships and the parallels between Haya & Ghazan and Suiren & Midori, and I really want to write a meta analysis digging deep into the depths of it all but it’s half past 4 a.m and my brain barely functions, so for now here have a Haya-related meme I made:
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#no you don’t understand I’m actually starting to feel for and sympathise with Haya what the fuck have I done#no a shitty childhood doesn’t excuse her actions but still. I can’t stop thinking about angsty gutpunchy concepts about her#but she’s on the receiving end instead of the other way round#it’s like that asoue quote#‘you must understand. he had a bad childhood’#‘I do understand. I’m having a bad childhood right now’#just… the development journey I took with Haya was so completely unexpected#originally she just existed as a fill in for the Ghazan’s older sister role that’s 66% canon#barely characterised. vague mentions of her being slightly apathetic but not bad#then I wrote the flashback in chapter 3 of sotrl which featured Suiren remembering how Haya taunted her about her parents’ imprisonment#not in detail or with any dialogue. just a statement that it happened#that’s when things took a turn for the worse#I don’t really remember when I decided Haya was downright abusive not only emotionally but physically too#I think I just realised that suiren wouldn’t be the way she is if her guardian was even halfway decent#and this Haya the way she is now was born#and I always knew that she had a less than ideal life starting since again. she raised ghazan so smth must have happened to their parents#but it was pretty vague up until recently when I decided I wanted to write or draw something from her POV#and everything took shape and I started coming up with more and more angsty ideas#and somehow ended up humanising her. making her more than just an abuser who hurts for the fun of it#she’s a deeply broken woman whose obsession with protecting her brother drove her to a lonely and bitter existence once her brother left her#who takes all those feelings of hurt and anger and betrayal out on the living proof of what said brother abandoned her for#she’s a prime example of what happens when one person doesn’t realise that their codependency became one sided#and when that same codependency is cut off with no prep or warning#in a way… she’s a haunting mirror to who Suiren might’ve become#and that just adds to the tragedy of it all#okay it is nearly 5 a.m now so o shall be going to bed lest I end up dead inside at my grandma’s tomorrow#i’ll expand on this later#byeeeeee good night))
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suni-writings · 5 months ago
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Stop hating me.
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jude bellingham x fem!reader
wc: 2.1k
+18!! mdni
(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])
ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it
“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”
“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.
Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.
“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?
“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”
As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.
“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”
Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.
“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”
Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.
“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”
She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.
“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”
She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.
“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”
She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.
She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.
“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”
“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.
“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.
“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.
Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.
“Who do you think, princess?”
After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.
The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.
“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”
Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.
“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”
She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.
“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.
“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.
Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.
“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.
“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.
His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.
“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”
She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.
“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.
And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?
He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.
“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”
When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.
After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.
As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.
Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.
Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.
He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.
“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”
“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.
He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.
When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.
“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.
“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”
It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.
“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”
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hyunebunx · 29 days ago
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˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33
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“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”
You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.
“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.
Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”
“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”
No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.
Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”
You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.
“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.
“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.
“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”
Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.
“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.
“Liar.”
For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.
“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.
“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”
“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”
“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.
“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.
“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.
“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”
Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.
“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”
He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”
Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.
Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.
That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.
Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”
“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”
Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”
“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”
“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.
“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”
Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.
“Baby.”
Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.
“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.
“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”
And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.
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