#I feel like there has to be some of these for like every game that came out back then if that's what this is but what are those CALLED

[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,”

[marsmaximoff]

🦑 hwang jun-ho; headcanons 〇△□

content warning: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of death, coma and jealousy. pet names. no season 2 spoilers. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 941

author’s note: well, my man is back, and i had to write some headcanons for him. the OBSESSION that i had back in 2021 needs to be studied, omg. anyway, as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, english is my third language, so i apologize for any mistakes. in case i don’t post anything else this year, happy 2025 everybody!! enjoy! 🩷

divider by @k1ssyoursister

〇 pre-games

best. boyfriend. ever.

that’s it, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

🙃🙃🙃

his love languages are:

1) quality time

he may be a police detective, but he ALWAYS tries to make time for you 

and see you every day, and if he can’t, he’ll save some minutes to call you

loves to hear about your day

big on communication, that’s key on your relationship 

type of boyfriend that picks you up after work, or anything really

he just wants to see your cute face :3

takes you out on cool dates

to the park, to eat, to cute animal cafés

he’s okay with staying in too, just cuddling, talking, watching something….

and 2) acts of service 

will drive you anywhere you need

you get ‘good morning/night’ texts every single day you’re not together

makes you breakfast 

and has no problem with cooking for you

opens doors for you 

pulls out the chair at the restaurant ☝🏻

he’ll simply do anything you need

loves coming home to you, it doesn't matter how shitty or overwhelming his day was, you just put a smile on his face

his favorite thing to do with you is eating

it may sound boring, but he loves to see you taking care of yourself, well-fed and happy

takes you to meet his family

his mom loves you

even his brother likes you

he’s a tease and enjoys seeing you all flustered

i feel like he’d be the type to have many pics of you on his phone that he goes back to whenever he misses you

you’re probably his wallpaper, perhaps even on his wallet too 🤭

some pet names like: “honey”, “love”, “beautiful”, “cutie”

would never cheat

a guard dog

not super jealous -a bit tho- but won't hesitate to step up if someone acts stupid 

(picture that one scene in season 2 when that man mocked him and didn’t believe he was an actual police detective hehe)

shows you off 🤩

checks you out :p

his hand is on you in some way when you’re out

has good emotional intelligence

big spoon

reminds you to take your make up off before bed if you wear any -he may even do it himself if you're too tired

or to take meds

he is just really caring and supportive

doesn't like seeing you worried or anxious because of his job

absolutely hates to see you suffer

doesn’t mind that you may be struggling financially, it won’t change what he feels

will help you with whatever it is

just don’t hide it, he hates secrets and lies

i hate doing it, but there always has to be some 🚩 

he’s the first one that would do it (lying and hiding stuff) to ensure you’re okay and don’t get worried

on a particularly overwhelming day, he will raise his voice at you

can get really overprotective 

some days you may not hear from him, or at least not much

will sometimes struggle to open up about his issues or what’s upsetting him

△ during the games

after your sudden disappearance, worry and fear ate him up

while checking your house he found a weird card

and once he discovered the exact same one at his brother’s, he knew something was going on

heard gi-hun at the police station rambling about some weird symbols and immediately recognized the design

interrogated him about you, desperate to know about your whereabouts 

as soon as he successfully infiltrated the games, he began your search

almost had a heart attack when he spotted you

had to make the effort of his life to stay calm and not run to you

would somehow manage to get you two alone so he can get you out of there (i’ll write about this soon)

almost gets caught

feels betrayed you didn’t tell him and quite angry you’d risk your own life like this

but mostly relieved you’re okay (and still alive)

watches you like a hawk from the distance, ensuring your safety

constantly around, you continuously sense his presence close by 

□ post-games (you died)

had to see your death and practically went numb

blurry vision, ringing in his ears, shortness of breath, sting in his throat

the worst thing tho, was finding out his brother had been behind everything

how could he have done this to you? you trusted him! 

feels completely disgusted

after his coma, he blames himself for everything

dreams about you 

gets you a cenotaph given that your body will forever remain strayed

nevertheless, he still talks to you like you’re there

tells you about his recovery and his progress finding the island

you are his strongest motivation

he’s doing this for you, to provide the love of his life a much deserving peaceful rest

gets you new flowers every few days

he’ll never stop feeling guilty

〇 post-games (you survived)

has nightmares he failed and left you to meet your demise on those cursed games

always there when you have them, and so is his shoulder if you need to cry

reassurance king

hides the identity of his attacker from you

becomes even more overprotective

shared location on at all times

gets paranoid if you don’t text him all day

he swore to never miss a single detail of your possible struggles. not again

you can still tell he holds himself responsible for your time on that island

stays awake at night just watching you sleep safe and sound (will never say it tho)

babies you

bigger spoon

doesn’t let you go out on your own if it’s late, afraid that something may happen and those psychopaths will reach you again

[ohbueckers]

THROUGH THE WALLS. paige bueckers

description. teammates who’ve never gotten along. but when you’re stuck sharing a dorm with paige bueckers—and she brings someone new home every night—it’s hard not to feel like the walls are closing in. tired of playing nice, you decide to get under her skin… in more ways than one.

includes. SMUT & about five scenes of plot building up to it (sorry, they’re not too long). player paige! scissoring, fingering, edging, etc… i’m not even sure anymore lol.

a/n. first one shot since finishing hoaw and i got carried away… (there’s a drought)? also new theme that took me forever to love, and a new writing style because all the lowercase was beginning to pmo.

It starts as it always does.

A different night, a different girl. You couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times you let someone filter through and wanted to tell them they weren’t the only one. You’d think during the season Paige’s amount of one-night stands would decrease… and well, you’d be wrong.

It’s been this way since your transfer. You’ve gotten along just fine with the rest of the team, even clicking quickly with some of them, including one of her best friends, Azzi. But Paige? Paige has been a different story entirely. It was like something about you set her off, though she never outright said it. She didn’t need to. You could feel it.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That her opinion of you was inconsequential, that you could live perfectly fine without her approval. But the truth was, it gnawed at you. Paige Bueckers wasn’t exactly a hard person to get along with—at least, not from what you’d seen with the others. She was charismatic, charming even. A natural leader.

She gave you nothing at all. You weren’t sure what you’d done to warrant it. Maybe it was something you said during your first practice, or maybe it was just who you were. Whatever the reason, Paige made it clear you weren’t worth her time.

You sat up in your bed, cross-legged under the covers as you flipped through the pages of a book you barely had the time to read anymore. From practices, games, away games, classes you had to take in order to finish your masters degree, the only time you had reserved for yourself—and well, the noises of Paige and her newest toy, were these late nights, alone in your bedroom.

You shuffled, turning to your side as you propped yourself up on your elbow. Your TV wasn’t doing much to hide the fact that Paige seemed to flaunt it, like she knew you were there, in the room just next door, forced to listen to it all.

Then, the door to Paige’s room creaked open. You didn’t have to look up to know it was her, that familiar sound of the latch turning, the soft shuffle of feet as she slipped out with Ms. Girl-Of-The-Week in tow. You kept your eyes trained on the page, trying to lose yourself in the book, but the sounds grew louder.

Muffled laughter that was too loud to not be intentional, and the subtle scruff of sneakers, or maybe slippers that indicated she was probably about to leave. Your fingers froze mid-turn when they stopped right outside your door.

Paige’s voice was unmistakable. Her gruff Minnesota accent that was too close for comfort. You narrowed your eyes toward your locked door. You could almost hear the smirk in her tone as she murmured something, followed by a soft, breathy kiss—almost like they hadn’t been doing just that the entirety of the night. “Are you serious?” you mumbled to yourself.

The sound of lips meeting lingered, and you felt an inexplicable heat rise in your chest—part frustration, part something else you couldn’t quite place.

It didn’t last long. Their footsteps retreated to the front door, and you were left behind in silence. Finally, right?

You forced yourself to go back to the book, but the words didn’t make sense anymore.

“Yo, Nik! Bet you can’t make this shot with your eyes closed!”

“She can barely make it with her eyes open.”

The taunt came from Aaliyah, who was lounging on the bleachers with her sneakers propped up on the rail. Nika immediately took it as a challenge, and you immediately took it as a sign to get out of there before she made everyone stick around until she made it. Post practice was always your favorite. Some of the team had already dispersed to the locker room showers, claiming that the gym was too hot and humid to linger around any longer, and well, you couldn’t blame them. Your shirt was sticking to your back, sweat making every movement feel like a little more effort than it should.

“Don’t miss,” Azzi called out from next to you.

“We’re gonna be here all day,” you muttered, dodging a hit from a jaw-gaped Azzi who fully believes Nika is capable. You giggle, moving to the far end of the bleachers where you’d placed your stuff at the start of practice, grabbing a sweat towel and wiping your forehead.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Paige. She was off the court now, towel draped around her neck, eyes scanning the gym. It didn’t take long for her to lock onto something—or rather, someone.

Her latest fling, you’re sure. She waltzed into the gym, holding a neatly folded item of clothing you’re sure is a pathetic excuse to be here right now. She’s pretty, you’ll admit. Her braids are pulled into a style that frames her face perfectly, and her jeans hug her figure like they were tailored just for her. There wasn’t anything bad you could say about her, but every fiber of your being wanted to find something. A flaw, maybe. Her blush blended too high up on her cheeks, her jacket too fluffy to be flattering.

You figured you were just as pathetic.

You tore your eyes away as Paige greeted her, pulling her in close, thanking her for returning something she definitely didn’t need—at least not now. You looked back just in time to miss all the casual flirtation, but to catch the way Paige’s body shifted ever so slightly as the girl leaned in to kiss her on the mouth, lips landing on her cheek.

You froze.

Paige’s eyes darted away from her lips, pulling back just enough to avoid the kiss. It was subtle for anyone but you, calculated, and as clear as day. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a misstep. She had actively dodged it.

Your pulse quickened, your breath catching in your throat. You wanted to look away, to pretend it didn’t bother you, but you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked on them as Paige smiled awkwardly, forcing her attention to the rest of the gym while the girl turned to walk out.

And just like that, it hit you: Paige was playing a game.

The kiss she’d given so easily last night was suddenly too much for her to do in front of you.

It had become a habit now, even though you hated yourself for it.

The faint giggles filtering through the door stopped you in your tracks as you walked past Paige’s room that night. Another one. That was obvious. You couldn’t place her laugh, though—higher-pitched than the last girl’s, breathier, maybe. Your feet hesitated, the rational part of your brain screaming at you to keep walking, but you didn’t listen. Instead, you found yourself leaning closer, pressing your ear to the wood.

You told yourself it was because you wanted to confirm just how much of a nuisance Paige was being this time. Not because you were curious, not because your stomach churned at the thought of what was happening behind that door.

Muffled voices floated through. Then came Paige’s husk of a laugh, accompanied by a whispered, “You really gon’ make me work for it, huh?”

You clenched your jaw, heat prickling up your neck. It wasn’t like you didn’t know this was Paige’s routine—find someone, bring them back, make it loud enough that you couldn’t not hear it—but something about hearing her voice in such a vulnerable state, made something twist uncomfortably in your chest.

You didn’t stay long. As soon as the low giggles morphed into something else, you yanked yourself away, retreating back to your own room and shutting the door harder than necessary.

Still, when Paige emerged the next morning, looking annoyingly satisfied and not even bothering to throw a shirt over her sports bra, your simmering irritation boiled over.

Her blonde hair was tied back messily into a bun, strands sticking out in a way that only added to her maddening confidence. Her toned arms gleamed faintly from her post-shower routine, and her smirk was the cherry on top, like she knew exactly how much she was testing your patience.

“You ever think about being considerate for once?” you snapped as she walked past your leaning figure against the kitchen counter, staring daggers at her.

Paige faced away from you, opening the fridge lazily as she searched it. “Jealous?’”

You scoffed, tilting your head. “Hardly.”

Paige turned around, a half-empty bottle of orange juice in her hand, smirk spreading as she kicked back against the fridge. “Hardly,” she repeated, giving you a once-over.

“What?” You clenched your jaw, watching as she tipped the liquid back slowly. “You could at least pretend to feel bad about being the most obnoxious roommate ever.”

“Obnoxious?” she repeated again, and you were getting real sick of it. Paige raised an eyebrow, lowering the bottle and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You really that mad about it? Or is there somethin’ else goin’ on?”

Got me there, you thought. You squinted instead. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late,” she quipped, her grin widening as she kicked off the fridge and took a slow step toward you, the bottle dangling from her hand. “You’re funny when you’re mad, y’know that?” she said, voice low and teasing. “Almost cute.”

You pretended to not be moved by her comment. Paige had never been remotely flirty with you. You were even sure she waited for you to leave the kitchen before making her move in the mornings just so you didn’t have to cross paths sometimes. You crossed your arms. “Almost cute is what you call those girls you sneak in here, right?”

Her smirk didn’t falter. “Well, it’s not really sneakin’ if you know about it.”

You narrowed your eyes, her own blue hues almost pinning you in place. She wasn’t just looking at you—she was studying you, daring you to react. The air suddenly felt thicker. It had definitely shifted, enough for you both to realize but not enough for either of you to move, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

But then you did, tearing your eyes from hers and taking a step forward, shoving lightly at her chest. “The bottle’s yours now, by the way,” you mumbled, rounding the island.

Paige barely budged—and neither did her smirk as she spun her body around just to see you leave. “Good thing I was finna finish it!” she called out for the last word.

By the third night, you’d had enough. The muffled sounds of Paige’s latest conquest had become a recurring soundtrack to your evenings, grating on your nerves until you could barely stand to be in your own space. It wasn’t just the noise—it was the principle of it, the blatant disregard for you, the unspoken challenge in the way she paraded each new girl in and out of your shared apartment.

You weren’t sure what her problem was, but if she thought she could push you out, she was wrong.

So tonight, you decided to flip the script.

You heard the front door open, the familiar sound of keys jingling as Paige stepped inside. She hadn’t even known you’d invited anyone over until she’d stepped into the apartment, tossing her bag down by the door and catching the low chatter of conversation. She froze for half a second. You didn’t bother greeting her. Riley, glancing between the two of you excepting some form of conversation, gave Paige a quick nod of acknowledgment before returning her eyes to you.

The fuck was that? Who the fuck is that? Paige thought.

Riley was good. Riley was great. Riley was undoubtedly a pawn. You’d met her at a mutual friend’s party a few weeks back when you’d drunkenly rambled about how you didn’t do relationships during the season because of your schedule, and while you hadn’t exactly planned on inviting her over, tonight seemed like the perfect night to make a point.

You weren’t doing anything wrong, but the thrill of it still made your stomach flip. Maybe it was the way Riley’s knee brushed yours when she shifted closer, but that couldn’t be right. Or maybe it was the fact that, for once, you were the one in control, and Paige would have to sit with that.

Paige peered over the couch until she could see you. Your legs tucked under you, so casually perfect it made her stomach twist.

You didn’t matter. Not like that.

That’s what she repeated in her head now as she moved further into the apartment, forcing herself into the kitchen instead of retreating straight to her room. She could still hear bits of your conversation. The girl’s voice was deep, smooth, like she knew exactly how to charm you. Paige hated her on principle.

You said something then, your voice dropping into a softer tone that the blonde hadn’t heard in a while—not since that first week you moved in, back when you still tried to be her friend.

She clenched her jaw, biting back the urge to interrupt. Instead, she opened the fridge, pulling out a random bottle of water just to have something to do with her hands. It’s none of your business, Paige told herself, cracking the bottle open. But her mind refused to let it go.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen you around other girls before. You were attractive—it wasn’t surprising. But this felt different. This was intentional, intimate.

And Paige hated it.

She walked out of the kitchen without thinking, legs moving until her body was pressed against the back of the couch. “Didn’t know we were hosting tonight,” she announced, her voice deceptively light as she stood tall, taking a sip of her water like this was normal, like she wasn’t purposefully intruding.

You glanced up, catching sight of her, and something flickered across your face—annoyance, maybe. She ignored it.

Your guest glanced at her too, clearly thrown off by her sudden presence. “Uh, hey,” she said, offering a polite smile.

“It’s not your dorm,” you reminded, completely ignoring Riley’s attempt at a well mannered exchange, your tone just as breezy.

Paige smiled. She fucking smiled and you wanted to wipe it off her stupidly perfect face. “Yeah, but you know how I feel ‘bout strangers. Y’all good in here?”

“Fine,” you responded.

“Nice,” she said, dragging the word out in a way that made your skin crawl. “Hope I’m not interrupting nothing.”

“You’re not,” you said quickly.

“Cool,” Paige said, pushing off the couch with another version of that smile that was so evidently fake. “Don’t mind me.”

She walked past the two of you, heading toward her room, but not before throwing one last glance over her shoulder.

Riley had left with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek. You told her you didn’t know Paige would be home tonight, offering a quick apology. She seemed to buy it, flashing you a smile before slipping out of the door and into the hall. As the door clicked shut behind her, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Paige’s eyes burning into your back, though you’d pretended to ignore her presence the entire time.

But as soon as Riley was out of sight, it was like a switch flipped. You were done pretending. Done letting Paige walk all over you in your own apartment. Done losing sleep over it.

Without knocking, you walked straight into her room. Her back was facing you, and she hadn’t even moved when you waltzed in, lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone, as if you hadn’t just spent the last hour biting your tongue and pretending to not be frustrated.

“Can we talk?” you asked, standing close to the doorframe with your arms crossed. The fury in your voice wasn’t hard to catch, and it wasn’t exactly a question. You were going to talk.

Paige glanced over shoulder—amused—clicking her phone off. You tried not to stare at the tone of her back, the buff of her arms… you had other things to worry about. “You’re mad,” she stated matter-of-factly, huffing as she fixed herself at the edge of her bed.

“You think?” you snapped, pushing away from the doorframe and advancing into the room, beginning to pace. “Do you even think about anyone else for five seconds? Or is this whole apartment just your playground?”

Her head tilted, blonde hair falling across her face as she looked thoroughly unimpressed to say the least. “What’re you talkin’ about now?” she drawled, and you rolled your eyes back to the gates of hell.

“You’re really gonna sit there and act clueless? You drove her away, Paige.”

“So?”

“So?” you repeated, incredulous. “You don’t see the problem with that?”

Paige shrugged, her hands clasped together in her lap. “If she left that easy, maybe she wasn’t worth your time.”

You stopped pacing, turning to face her fully. “What’s your problem with me having someone over? You’ve had your share of… company.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for the first time. “That’s different.”

“How?” you pressed, taking a step closer.

Her jaw tightened, and she suddenly couldn’t look at you. “Just is.”

“For once, I wasn’t here listening to your—” You broke off, gesturing vaguely but pointedly toward her bed. “But you still had to make it about you.”

Paige stretched, and you forced your eyes away from the taut lines of her flexed abdomen. She smirked like she knew you’d looked anyway. “Aight, can we not … argue?”

You squinted. “We’re not arguing.”

Paige snorted, clearly unconvinced, as she pushed herself off the bed and stood. “Just go, bro,” she muttered, dismissing you with a wave of her hand as she moved past you toward the door.

You didn’t move, way too stubborn for your own good. “I’m not leaving until you answer my question.”

Paige paused, and there was a shift in her stance that you could read better than the expression on her face. She didn’t say anything at first, her fingers brushing lightly over her jaw, the movement so preconceived, almost like she was trying to distract herself from whatever had been building between the two of you. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

You didn’t steer away from her, in fact, you leaned into it. It was ridiculous how easy she could shut you up.

“Oh.”

You let the word sit in the air, almost a whisper, barely a sound, but it hit both of you in the gut.

The realization was slow, but clear. You didn’t need her to spell it out. She couldn’t just fuck and forget with you, not like she did with the others. This was something different, something that scared her—something that scared you, too.

Oh.

You stared into her blue irises, and suddenly the few inches she had on you was more evident than it had ever been before. Your cheeks were slightly smushed between the largeness of her hand, and you could almost hear her heart beating in her chest.

You’re close. Too close.

“Yeah,” she finally muttered. “That’s what I thought.” With that, she shoved you away, rough enough to make you feel it.

You didn’t know what to say, so you’d stupidly responded with a two letter word that Paige thought she understood, thought she knew the meaning behind. You didn’t know what to say, so you put your lips to better use.

You moved before she could stop you, your mouth crashing against hers, urgent, desperate, full of everything you’d been fighting. There was nothing careful about it, nothing controlled. It was just instinct—a pull between you that neither of you could avoid anymore.

For a moment, Paige buffered. Her hands hovered over your hips as your lips moved in perfect sync. You could feel her hesitation, debating whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You leaned more into her, pressing your body against hers, and with a subtle shift, you guided one of her hands into your side, urging her to touch you, and it was all the confirmation she needed that this was real.

It was sloppy in all the right ways, hands roaming everywhere between fabric that got in the way of warm skin. Paige groaned softly against your mouth, holding you up by the small of your back as she pushed the door shut, the soft thud of it almost drowned out by the sound of your breathing.

She backs you onto her bed until you’ve fallen, giving your lips a break for the first time within your haze. You’re hastily removing your shirt as she climbs over you.

“Shit. Are we gonna regret this?” you question fully breathless, letting your tee slide off your arms. Your legs parted instinctively, and she fit herself between them, leaning down to get a taste of you.

“You think ima’ regret fuckin’ you?” she asks straightforwardly, so muffled against your neck that she’s nipping and sucking at you almost don’t hear it. You screw your eyes shut, trailing a manicured hand down her abs, fingers brushing the ridges of her muscles. “No, I—didn’t mean it like that—“

“Aight, then,” she cuts, fully disbanding the conversation while licking over a fresh hickey. She pushes you onto your side, tugging your shorts down in nearly the same movement. You have no time to protest, and you don’t exactly want to either. Paige drags two of her fingers over your clothed cunt, parting her lips to let out a breath in admiration. “I got you this wet?” she whispers.

“All you.”

She pushes your panties to the side, sliding a finger between your wet folds. You whimper, shifting to spread wide open for her, but she holds you firmly folded in place by your waist. “Like you just like this. Say it again for me?”

Her finger drags through increasingly slow—up and down—like a petty reminder she’s in control. “All you, Paige. Only you. Only ever you,” you admit in a hurried ramble, yelping as she slips two digits into you.

“Only ever me, huh? Y’sure you not just sayin’ that?” she teases, tugging her lip between her teeth as she watches her fingers disappear. Your head lolls to the side, your breath coming short, hardly able to muster up a response for her.

Her opposite hand makes its way to your face, bringing you right back, and she uses her thumb to trail down and over your bottom lip, your saliva dragging across your chin so filthily you have to remind yourself she’s a pro at this. You can’t stand to think about the other girls. “Paige—mfmm—fuck,” you let out, the squelching enough to make you feel her deeper.

You swallow as she gazes down at you, her mouth finding yours in another heated kiss as she works you up. She sloppily trails over to your neck again, distracting you with a bite that she quickly soothes with her tongue. “You’re s’good,” you praise, fingers knitting through her hair that falls in waves over her shoulders.

Your hands find her abdomen again, a place you’ve grown obsessed with after seeing in her in about a hundred variations of a sports bra. It’s like she knew it drove you mad. Paige smirked, dragging your hand a little lower. “I’ll let you ride ‘em if you’re good.”

You smile weakly, rolling your eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Paige curls her fingers up, eyes piercing into you intently like she was waiting for that reaction—the one that has your nails digging into her skin. “And you’re so full.” She pulls out and thrusts back in so easily, like her fingers were made to fit.

You’re on the brink of ecstasy, ready to fall completely undone under the girl who knows exactly how to drive you out of your mind. You’re holding onto Paige like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded. “That’s it,” she mumbles, licking her lips as she picks up the pace, her voice smug of pure satisfaction.

You gasp, barely able to form words, but she doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you a second to think. “Say it,” she demands. “Tell me who’s got you like this.”

“Paige,” you breathe, the sound of her name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

She grins, her teeth grazing your neck. “Louder. Let me hear it, baby.”

“Paige!” you moan in half frustration that she wouldn’t just let you have it—your body arching into her—and just like that, she pulls her fingers out, robbing you from your climax.

Your head snaps up. There were a million things you could’ve said, cursed, yelled. But yet your head was still buzzing, and the only two and half words that managed to spill out were a weak, “What the fu—“

She’s climbing off the bed, unperturbed as you move closer to the headboard. Before you can respond, she steps back, slipping out of her joggers and boxers in one quick motion, the fabrics hitting the floor in a careless heap. It’s so smooth—and she’s done it a hundred times before, just never with you.

She’s back on you in an instant, lips dragging over every part of your body. You’re sat up against the wall, peaking over to see yourselves in the mirror facing her bed, her body pressed tightly against yours, her hands everywhere at once. The sight knocks the air out of your lungs.

Oh.

Oh.

In the reflection, you can see just about everything.

Paige’s hands slide lower, gripping your thighs with a force that leaves no room for escape—not that you’d dream of leaving. “Keep looking,” she mutters, practically reading your mind, her breath hot against your collarbone. “Y’wanna see everything, don’t you?”

“Mm, ‘course.” You shiver, her words leaving you no choice but to obey. You’re suddenly no longer upset about not getting to come, every brush of her lips and graze of her fingertips stoking the ache pooling in your stomach.

She shifts, pulling your panties down before positioning herself between your legs. For a second, she locks eyes with you, letting a line of her spit drop and mingle with the wetness of your clits so close together.

What a freak.

Paige wastes no more time, pulling you even closer. The lower halves of your bodies align, and you let out a shuttered breath as your clit nudges hers. It’s overwhelming in all the right ways. “Aw, fuck,” she groans, your wetness meeting in the middle. You drag a hand down her stomach, playing with her pussy just a little, thumb circling over the top.

“So good, P.” You’re flush against the wall, elbows shaking as you let out ragged moans, bucking your hips up to match Paige’s pace. It seems to be working for the two of you, and you don’t think you’ve felt anything so fucking good.

“Ride me so good, fuck,” Paige tips her head back, feeling lost as your nails move higher on her torso. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a minute. Just like I imagined, baby, you know that?” she admits, and it’s enough to make you let out a sound that’s nothing short of pornographic, her name somewhere in the mix.

“Shit,” you dragged out. You drag your hips against her pussy even slower, letting your eyes flutter closed as the pleasure builds in your gut. Her hands tighten on your waist, a sharp inhale giving away the effect you have on her.

“So close, ma, d-on’t slow down,” she mutters—her words a complete run-on, but it only spurs you on.

You savor the pleasure in the midst trying to keep yourself together as every movement pulls a soft gasp from your lips. “Keep goin’ just like that,” Paige breathes, her voice barely above a whisper now, her lips brushing your temple. “Doing so fuckin’ perfect.”

Her words hit you all at once as you press even closer. “I’m s’close.” You know you’re driving her to the edge too, the way her grip on you alternates between grounding and desperate betraying her restraint.

“Right with you,” Paige breathes. You bite your lip, every nerve in your body sparking to life as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak. Your hips stutter against hers, and Paige’s head tilts back, a guttural groan spilling from her lips as she grips you tighter, like you’re the only thing tethering her to the moment.

Everything snaps. The rush of pleasure floods over you, hitting you so hard you can’t help but cry out her name, moans spilling over in a rush. Paige’s grip tightens as she comes undone, her breath hitching as her legs tense beneath you.

You think it’s the hardest you’ve ever came.

As you both ride out the aftermath, there’s not much silence between heaving chests and ragged breaths. Paige is the first to move, tangling herself up next to you.

Her fingers tracing small circles on your back, and you lean into it. You can’t help but chuckle, your breath still unsteady. “So… should I still have to worry about hearing you through the walls?”

Paige looks down at you in adoration, running a hand through your hair, before her hand slips to your chin, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

“Nah, no more of that.”

[dorian-they]

and here’s a list from someone who’s made it thru more than 20 years of incapacitating suicidal depression:

- eat some food. I don’t care what it is. Eat it. Any food is better than no food. Preferably with some protein in it but idgaf. Food. Eat it.

- water. Drink it. Put it in a fucking mason jar or some other large container so you don’t have to get up and refill it. Use a fucking vase or tupperware or slurp it from a trough like a fuckin horse for all I care. Water. Large. Drink it.

- whenever you wake up, grab all the food/water you might wanna have for the whole day and put it wherever you’re setting up camp. Doing this when you have the most spoons available is crucial to steps 1 & 2

- pull-tab canned foods are your best friends. keep some cans & utensils by your bed for days when that’s your camp. Best options are gonna be fruits or veggies or protein, but again, any food is better than no food.

- put a toothbrush and/or floss within arm’s reach of your bed and/or wherever you usually set up camp when you’re awake. Scrub it around in your mouth whenever you remember to do it. If you have like $7 to spare, order some Parodontax active gum repair toothpaste online so you can continue eating food with the assistance of your teeth.

- take a daily multivitamin. Get the gummy kind if you want. Most multivitamins will get the job done but if you can spare the brain power to look at the ingredients just make sure it has several types of vitamin B (helps with depression). This will help your body feel less like microwaved shit and you’ll also feel less guilty about the types of food you’re able to get yourself to eat. Less guilty and less shit-feeling body are good. You can even order the vitamins online so you don’t have to remember to pick them up at the store or even leave your house

- do not guilt yourself about showering. Showering is a massive energy drain. Do it when you can, but that’s not the priority. Alive is the priority. Food, water, and having teeth to eat said-food with comes first. Aesthetics do not. If your body is smelly and it’s annoying you but not enough to shower about it, use a wet washcloth to wipe down the area or just slap on some deodorant and call it good. Dry shampoo is also a lifesaver if your hair gets oily

-if you’re not going out, wear the same comfy clothes every day. Or, if you can, just be naked, who cares. Decision fatigue is real and so is fabric sensitivity. Don’t overwork your brain with unnecessary shit. Again, not the priority.

- give yourself regular dopamine hits. watch a stupid video. eat a snack you like. play a few rounds of a cute mindless phone game. read a silly story. watch a show or movie or listen to a song you like, even just in the background. And yes, you still enjoy these things even though your brain hates everything rn. Go get your dopamine hits.

- and speaking of dopamine: if you aren’t sex repulsed, daily masturbation is basically self-serve serotonin and the happy chemicals still work even if you don’t get off so it’s worth it even if that’s a struggle. Plus if you do it before bedtime it can also help you fall asleep.

- lastly, if you manage to do any of these things in any way, shape, or form, take 2 seconds to literally congratulate yourself and/or physically pat yourself on the back/shoulder. Yes, I’m fucking serious. No I don’t care how small the task was. Say aloud or in your head “good job, [your name].” or if that feels too stupid just say “welp you didn’t wanna do that but you did it and now it’s done.” Just any way to acknowledge you did A Thing and now it is Done. Because unlike neurotypicals you have to coax your feral kitten of a brain into giving you happy chemicals after completing tasks. So congratulate yourself. Coax the cat.

if you managed to make it to the end of this, congrats on reading a long ass post about taking care of yourself. You didn’t have to read this, but you did, and now you’ve got some ideas about what might work for you or what won’t work for you. Good job, bud. I’m really glad you care about yourself enough that you took the time to read this

depression tips™

shower. not a bath, a shower. use water as hot or cold as u like. u dont even need to wash. just get in under the water and let it run over you for a while. sit on the floor if you gotta.

moisturize everything. use whatever lotion u like. unscented? dollar store lotion? fancy ass 48 hour lotion that makes u smell like a field of wildflowers? use whatever you want, and use it all over. 

put on clean, comfortable clothes. 

put on ur favorite underwear. cute black lacy panties? those ridiculous boxers u bought last christmas with candy cane hearts on the butt? put em on.

drink cold water. use ice. if u want, add some mint or lemon for an extra boost.

clean something. doesn’t have to be anything big. organize one drawer of ur desk. wash five dirty dishes. do a load of laundry. scrub the bathroom sink. 

blast music. listen to something upbeat and dancey and loud, something that’s got lots of energy. sing to it, dance to it, even if you suck at both.

make food. don’t just grab a granola bar to munch. take the time and make food. even if it’s ramen. add something special to it, like a hard boiled egg or some veggies. prepare food, it tastes way better, and you’ll feel like you accomplished something. 

make something. write a short story or a poem, draw a picture, color a picture, fold origami, crochet or knit, sculpt something out of clay, anything artistic. even if you don’t think you’re good at it.

go outside. take a walk. sit in the grass. look at the clouds. smell flowers. put your hands in the dirt and feel the soil against your skin.

call someone. call a loved one, a friend, a family member, call a chat service if you have no one else to call. talk to a stranger on the street. have a conversation and listen to someone’s voice. if you can’t, text or email or whatever, just have some social interaction with another person. even if you don’t say much, listen to them.

cuddle your pets if you have them/can cuddle them. take pictures of them. talk to them. tell them how u feel, about your favorite movie, a new game coming out.

[sleepyhoon]

SAY YOU LOVE ME. — TRAILER

starring lee heeseung, park sunghoon, and you.

“ i know you like her, so do something about it „

syn. your once bold and confident figure skating partner — park sunghoon — has grown shy, stiff, and timid around you now that your routines have crossed the line from friendly intimacy to borderline sensual. with an upcoming performance at the annual figure skating convention on the line, you’re worried your partner’s incompetence could cost you opportunities to further your careeres. your boyfriend, heeseung, however seems to have the perfect solution to get sunghoon back on track.

running time. est 15k+

release date. mid to late january 2025

tickets. taglist open — reply to join or join my perm taglist here

rating. NC-17 :: mentions of dieting and harsh workouts, mentions of anxiety. swearing, alcohol consumption & drinking games. sexually explicit content in the form of — voyeurism, rough sex, cunnilingus, spit, fingering, multiple creampies, cum eating, slight mxm content, soft dom!hoon, mean dom!hee.

director’s note. surprise!! in honor of hitting 2.5 billion followers here is a teaser of my gift to you all! possibly my fave thing i’ve written in all my years of writing fanfics so this is extra special to me! hope you enjoy it, and special thanks to my angel @intromortal for designing the banners, dividers, and layout <3

— TRAILER

running time. 500+ || rating. PG-13

“I have a theory,” Heeseung pauses, taking a sip from your Stanley Cup as you quirk a brow at him, “about Sunghoon.”

It’s not often that Heeseung actively engages in conversations regarding your skating partner, so your curiosity is piqued. “What about him?”

Your boyfriend shrugs, setting your tumbler on the ground before slipping his boxing gloves back on, “About his, uh…date. I don’t think he’s into Jisu like he said he was.”

You snort, leaning your head against the rugged brick wall as you watch Heeseung give the punching bag a few light taps. “Trust me, I figured that out by now. I just don’t understand why he’d lie about liking someone.”

Heeseung glances at you for a moment, shaking his head at the fact that you clearly didn’t understand Sunghoon’s dilemma. “He definitely likes someone, just not her.”

“Then who?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

You throw your arms up in mock frustration, “How am I supposed to? He doesn’t talk to me about girls or his love life.”

Heeseung chuckles, mumbling “I bet” under his breath as he lands harder hits on the punching bag. “Sunghoon likes you, YN, that’s why the date with Jisu didn’t go well. That’s why he can barely even look you in the eye and why it’s so awkward skating with him now.”

“Your routines are so fucking — ugh — romantic now, and he’s obviously into you. He probably — ugh! — feels guilty, or some shit.” Heeseung punches grow harsher and harsher as he speaks, pausing every so often to let out a loud grunt as his fists connect with the leather.

Dumbfounded, you stare down at your sneakers in awe. You’d never imagined the possibility of Sunghoon having a crush on you, but Heeseung’s theory makes more sense than you’d like to admit.

“But, why would he tell me-”

“Because you fucking cornered him and demanded he tell you who he liked.” Heeseung interrupts, already knowing what your question was, “He was probably seconds away from pissing himself and blurted out the first girl he could think of.”

“I did not corner him.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, using his forearm to wipe the sweat off his brow, “Whatever, just pointing out that you probably scared him.”

You sigh, awkwardly toying with your shoelaces as you mumble, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, baby,” Heeseung ducks around the punching bag a few times, pretending he’s in a ring with an opponent as you stifle a laugh at him, “he was just nervous, is all.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about this? His … crush on me is making it impossible for us to skate together, and I can’t do much about it.”

Heeseung allows his arms to fall to his side, chewing on his bottom lip as he gazes at the beat-up punching bag. There’s one idea that may just work, and maybe it’ll be enough to get you out of Sunghoon’s system just enough for him to go back to normal, or at least learn to not be so nervous around you.

“What if, for one night, we just … let him have you?”

Before you go to respond, Heeseung delivers another heavy punch to the bag, watching silently with a tense jaw as it breaks off the chain and falls to the ground.

[dnpbeats]

2025 d&p predictions 🫶🏻

some of these are gonna be unhinged but like lbr who was expecting a tour to happen so quickly? who was expecting phil to randomly go blond?! so I had to have some things that feel like they’re out of left field

1. new d&p app or physical game

2. PHODCAST 🤞🏻

3. pet (my heart says cat but my brain says dog)

4. “our bed” comment

5. new corner of the phouse reveal

6. phil announces AP is going to be semi-inactive and it has one upload every other month (sad) because he is working on a solo proj (happy) > solo project is something sci-fi- and/or horror-related

7. completely out of the blue comment implying that d&p are gonna have kids one day and everyone is like hey what

8. new sponsorship and then the sponsor gets canceled for being a horrible business weeks after d&p post their video sponsored by them

9. tit is filmed and then not released for months bc they can’t find a platform for it à la WAD

10. IRL folds

11. super romantic vacation after the tour is over where they don’t announce it and are radio silent for two weeks and then randomly post a photo dump from it that includes a photo of dan kissing phil on the cheek or vice versa

12. dan goes viral on tiktok

13. dan and phil wedding invitations are leaked but it was actually an elaborate ruse set up by a phan who sent fake phwedding invites to a print shop

14. phil accidentally doxes his lurker account

15. someone finds an AITA post that they connect back to dan. the post is mysteriously deleted but dan never mentions it

16. dan gives up on the phullet by february and goes back to his regular hair

17. “our niece”

18. someone posts one of those tiktoks that’s like “love is everywhere if you look for it ❤️” that has a bunch of 2 second shots of random couples who don’t know they’re being filmed and one of them is d&p (OP has no idea who they are)

19. they try to wash the pheal and accidentally kill it (aka the stuffing gets fucked up in the washing machine). they try to replace it without anyone realizing but everyone notices

20. phil posts a reel trying some crazy dessert the size of his face that went viral online. months later dan is talking about it and implies that he and phil split the dessert. we talk about it for a month

21. dan makes a bunch of allusions to posting on daniel howell but it never actually happens

22. lessamazingphil comeback (aka phil posts a domestic video featuring dan)

23. one of them makes a passing comment about how there are talented authors in the phandom and it sparks a weeks-long debate about whether or not d&p read phanfic and if content creators have the right to enter into fan spaces

24. it is revealed they have a second house on IOM

25. they acknowledge that dab and evan are their proxies

26. they get a new editor

27. dan learns a new instrument (guitar perhaps)

28. pj and sophie talk about going to a wedding. everyone thinks it’s d&p’s and then someone figures out it wasn’t d&p’s wedding. but actually it turns out it WAS

29. another charity livestream (WAD cubes anyone? 💔) and one of the prizes is that phil will dye his hair a wild color. tyler oakley posts a thirst tweet about it

30. dan and phil randomly do a hosting gig for the BBC

31. they learn to cook solely because they get paranoid about getting a deliveroo driver that recognizes them

32. they voice characters in a video game and everyone is so excited only for it to be like big hero 6 where they have two lines each

[froghat1745]

Dina is 100% my favorite OC for multiple reasons, but it really all boils down to the fact she is not a plot dependent character.

Dina get's to exist solely just for the purpose of being a whimsical student at hogwarts, she doesn't help the golden trio complete any large grandiose missions, she doesn't play a large part in any overarching events, she doesn't even fight in any of the battles.

She is epitome of a background character and i fucking love her for it.

Well, Harry, Hermione, Ron, etc, are spending their days fighting enemies and having experiences dependent on plot relevance, Dina is just hunkered down in the potions lab playing mad scientist and writing fun and adventurous new recipes with her mentor Snape and eventually her boyfriend Percy too, just cause she has the time.

She gets a boyfriend, has fun with friends in the castle, and furthurs her education without once thinking about the business of the Golden Trio. She isn't enamored with their constant adventure, she isn't apart of any large mobs in the grand hall watching and waiting for the next most exciting thing about Potter and his legacy. She's just.. living her own independent life.

You could plant yourself at any point in Dina's life (past or future) and aside from some certain aspects (the involvement she briefly has with the weasley family as a result of supporting Percy through his big fight with them, her interactions with umbridge, and her name being the final topic snape speaks about before passing) her behaviors literally have no relevance to the main storyline of Potter, Hermione, and Ron.

Because Dina, was not designed to play any especially important role in the events of Harry Potter. She doesn't need to have her reactions, passions, likes, and dislikes revolve around any significant events regarding the main trio (rather traumatizing or not)

because she is not a plot device.

She isn't a member of the order, she doesn't train under Potter during the events of OOTP, she doesn't involve or worry herself in the feud between Potter and Malfoy (despite being a slytherin), she doesn't gossip about Potter and the events of cedric's death in OOTP, she doesn't watch the qudditch games for anyone else but Wood, she doesn't try to insert herself in the slug club, and she doesn't even concern herself with the triwizard tournament aside from what Snape forces her to pretend to engage with.

Even when umbridge attacks her, it's not Harry Potter dependent. He's not torturing her because she's in any way, a friend or even a peer of Harry Potter. But more because she's the daughter of Sirius black.

Dina is so removed from the main storyline that she doesn't even ever discover what happened to her biological father, Sirius Black, until after his death. And that is merely because Neville mentions it briefly when talking about his intent to kill Bellatrix Lestrange in the department of mysterys, and the furthur desire to mangle the women he feels after the fact. And though she is slighty saddened by the fact she has the capability to form a connection to one of her living parents, and slightly resentful at the idea of HER own biological father seeking refuge and a parental connection with somebody who wasn't her, after his escape. She doesn't really do anything about it but minorly sulk for a week or so.

And even when Dina does make a decision or exibits a behavior as a result of a memory. It just feels like a natural human response to stress as opposed to something that HAS to happen to further a story.

SHE DOESNT EVEN FIGHT IN THE WAR.

She returns in the last measly 2-3 months during the wars end, as the tension is fizziing out, in the court stages when the newly peiced together ministry of magic is working on one by one convicting every death eater responsible for the damage. Not more than a week after voldemorts defeat when it's more just antagonistic remnants of death eaters trying to grip for the power and control and less Voldemort running around torturing and killing everyone under the crush of his terrifying dictatorship.

So she doesn't even do the whole "I fought alongside Harry potter, the UK's golden boy! Look at my glory and honor" thing, that everyone else harps on for awhile. The closest connection she even has to Harry or the order is Neville, who she becomes quite close with in their school days, and eventually rescues her during the mass sweep to find Luna lovegood.

Don't get me wrong I love my plot dependent characters ♡♡♡ but Dina just shines because she can literally just have whismy and joy about her personality and it has nothing to do with anyone but herself.

being obsessed with your own oc is so awesome because everything you say is right. no headcanons we die like men

[webanglikethat]

Inho and Gihun have consumed my brain: a rant.

their dynamic is absolutely insane, like watching two halves of a broken mirror slowly shift toward each other, each reflecting something so raw, so !! unbearably !!! human !!!

they are opposites in the most obvious way: one, a cold-blooded killer who thrives on power, privilege, and pain (though they both come from a similar background); the other, a man haunted by his own humanity, stubbornly holding on to the last shred of his moral compass, believing in a better life, a greater future.

but it’s the tension between them that burns — the way they orbit each other, drawn together by something darker than either of them is willing to admit. and it drives me insane, insane I tell you.

Inho studies Gihun like a predator; he is disguised as an ally, draped in the mask of sympathy and empathy, but every moment spent with him … it’s like watching a snake move through tall grass, its every flicker of movement calculated, controlled and designed to ensnare, trap, conquer, destroy. he watches his every more, everything he does and he doesn’t do. it’s a real time dissection !! he watches Gihun's cracks, his weaknesses, his flickers of anger and despair. every subtle movement doesn’t escape him.

he needs to see that part of him, the part that’s been broken, the part that still hurts. and in a way, he’s intoxicated by it. it’s like he wants to drink from those wounds, to feel the sharp, stinging taste of anguish on his tongue, to experience that pulse of pain, just so he can savor it, dissect it, and make it his own.

he watches Gihun not because he’s merely intrigued, but because in his suffering, in his brokenness, there is beauty. a beauty that can only be savored when torn apart, shredded, dissected, bruised. and the more he watches, the more he feeds on that agony, the deeper he falls into the nightmare of this endless fucking twisted game.

Inho is too far gone. he’s lived through the games, seen how the system works, and he’s embraced it without shame. to him, the so called “blood money” he earned is a truth. he doesn’t hide from it. he doesn’t pretend it’s anything else. he has seen too many bodies pile up to think there’s any other way. Inho believes the only way forward is through destruction. he’s accepted the curse of the games. hell, he’s fucking embraced it ! the lives lost are nothing more than fuel for his ascent to power. people are pawns, and pawns don’t matter. it’s all part of the game.

Gihun, though… he’s not like Inho. he too has been brutalized by the games, crushed under the weight of the world’s cruelty, watching as the lives of those he loved dimmed. BUT! even so !! there’s this flicker of light in him — a really fucking stubborn and desperate hope to protect those who still live, to undo the wrongs. for all the pain he’s endured, he hasn’t completely surrendered to the darkness. he’s been pushed, stretched to the breaking point by the horrors he’s witnessed, by the blood shed that he can never wash away and still lingers even in his dreams … but there’s this part of him that still fights to hold on to the fragments of the man he used to be. he’s so stubbornly human.

and yet, it’s not the break that Inho is after imo — it’s the collapse. he doesn’t just want to see Gihun’s humanity crack; he wants to see him fold. he wants to make him question everything, even his need to protect others, even the value of his own moral code. to descend into madness, forsaking logic.

you can see him being fascinated when Gihun agrees to sacrifice people for the greater good. I swear, you can see Inho alive in that moment. I can’t explain it other than he’s feeding on him. he’s watching this man, so different from him, with scars that shine the same way, who once held onto some semblance of hope, succumb to the same darkness that devoured him.

he wants to see the man who refused to let the games destroy him finally fall into the same dark logic that built those games in the first place.

but here’s the thing — Gihun’s resistance, his refusal to just surrender to Inho's desires, drives him insane. Inho, for all his power, for all his twisted thrill at orchestrating this, isn’t immune to that same hunger. he sees Gihun as both a reflection and a challenge. it torments him. he wants to unravel him from the inside. the more he watches, the more he understands just how much it is tearing at him, how much he wants it.

there is a tenderness to it, a chilling, perverse tenderness, where one offers the illusion of safety while the other inches closer to the slaughter.

what drives me insane is that Gihun doesn’t know. he doesn’t know that the man he’s grown to trust, the one who’s quietly listened to his every confession, who has offered him that flicker of human connection in the desolate wasteland of the games, is the very demon he’s been chasing. the one that has orchestrated every nightmare he’s endured. and every time Gihun speaks of his mission, of his burning desire to kill the one who created this nightmare, to undo the games and get revenge Inho just listens intently, relishing in every moment of vulnerability.  and it’s delicious. Gihun is literally unraveling before him, piece by piece, and Inho hasn’t even revealed the true extent of his power!

the betrayal scene is going to be so good. SO FUCKING GOOD. it’s when Gihun talks about revenge, when he plans to end the game, to kill the person behind it all, that Inho feels that twisted thrill in his chest. because what Gihun doesn’t realize is that all those plans, all those quiet declarations of death, have been heard and they’ve been absorbed, broken down, and processed. Inho already knows what Gihun is capable of, what he’s willing to do, and how far he’s willing to go to get his revenge. it doesn’t matter to Inho. it never has. he’s already five steps ahead. Inho has studied Gihun like a surgeon carving through flesh, patiently unraveling his soul, savoring each fragile thread of hope only to tighten the noose, knowing that the moment Gihun’s trust shatters, so too will his humanity.

-> and like … Gihun’s humanity is his greatest weakness. his desperate hope to protect, to save, to make things right when he couldn’t before (example: in season 1 when a dying man reached for him and he looked away, in season 2 he helped a dying man) that's what Inho sinks his teeth into, because he knows that in this world, hope is the ultimate poison, the biggest gamble. every moment Gihun spends clinging to the idea that he can save anyone, that he can stop the game — that he can stop The Frontman — it draws him closer to the truth that will eventually shatter him.

and imo — Inho watches him with a twisted admiration, because in that desperate struggle, he sees himself or rather, the version of him that could’ve been if he had not embraced the game so fully. and in that, their paths, though seemingly different, are always converging. they are the same in the most brutal way: two sides of a coin, both marked by the same blood, the same violence, the same emptiness, and in the end, they are not so different after all. for all their differences, in the end — they are mirrors.

addition cause I saw this post and omg ?? it’s an intentional, almost possessive move. he’s not just playing along with their conversation; he’s LITERALLYYY replacing Jungbae with himself in Gihun’s mind, stepping into the role of someone who belongs in Gihun’s future.

Inho doesn’t just want power or control over the situation — he wants needs Gihun to need him, to see him as the one who’s always there, the one who understands him, the one who can stand beside him.

and to me, it feels like a possessive kind of longing that goes beyond mere rivalry or control. it’s ugh — just the way they orbit around each other, the way Inho needs Gihun to acknowledge him, to see him as more than just the “other guy that joined my team”.

and as much as Gi-hun is fighting to hold on to his humanity and the relationships that matter to him, Inho is just as desperately fighting to be the one that Gihun turns to in the end. it’s obsessive. it’s possessive. it’s dangerously romantic and I need them to fuck it out.

[vifilms]

THE FIRST BITE!

pairing. rugby player!abby x fem!reader x rugby player!vi

the introduction. abby anderson, the co-captain of the legends. the thickest, strongest girl around and she sure does pull like it. then there’s vi, tragically pathetic unable to get a girlfriend vi, a co-captain with some of the past game in the pitch but can’t find any to save her life off the field. or will misfortune of missing keys bring the luck directly to her?

the two have done nothing but compete against each other from the day they were born. abby has been a big girl from a young age, taller than most, it didn’t take much for her to bulk up. her biceps bigger than the largest dumbells in the gym, thighs and legs strong enough to kill a man. it’s what made her a dominant force on the field. she’s a bull you’ll try like hell to doze over, but the task is nearly impossible.

then there’s violet.

she’s not as big or strong, but she’s quick. she relies on it for every match. gliding on the pitch like a leopard. it’s because of her sheer speed that the team has won so frequently. violet is also the painful thorn in abby’s side, why she isn’t the sole captain but co-captains. the best of the best coach sev says, the yin and yang of professional rugby.

abby isn’t too sure of it but she’s in it to win and for that it’s the only reason why a bond is forged between them. the hatred they have for each other becomes kinship, hours on the field bringing out the best in each other only makes them win and win, and fucking win. the surrounding districts wanting to know coach sev’s secret.

it’s friendship.

two weeks from the quarter finals, the pair decides to blow off steam and that’s when the real competition between them thrives. until recently, abby had been happily taken, violet didn’t have to compete with the beefcake. even if she’d never admit it, abby makes her feel insecure. she’s smart, kind, and seriously ripped.

the amount of girls she turns town in one night at the local bar, seraphites, makes her wanna shrivel into a ball until all she feels is the a black hole swallowing her essence whole.

but now abby is single and god, vi will cry into her pillow if another girl she thinks is pretty leaves home with abby.

“don’t feel so bad. most wouldn’t last this long with me around.”

“yeah, i feel so grateful to still be here.”

abby chuckles as she playfully punches at vi’s shoulder.

“i’ll throw you a solid tonight then, the after party after quarter finals, i won’t munch all night and you know how hard that is for me.” abby playfully pouts.

“oh, really? how pitiful. that’s actually worse than competing with you. a sympathy thrown one night stand.”

abby harmlessly puts her hands up, taking a sip from her chilled beer. immediately, the bartender starts chatting up with her and abby starts being abby. it infuriates her how little the broad blonde has to try. she slips into this girl every damn gay girl in town eats up like a midnight snack.

each time, she starts it off slow. easy. throwing a compliment your way, if that bite into the bait, they always touch her hand, her arm, or stroke the vein protruding from her bicep. abby shamelessly flirts until they’re giggling, nearly putty in her hands.

a couple hours later, the two of them are leaving but vi is walking home alone while abby is entering a cab with the breathtaking bartender who’s shift has just conveniently ended.

it’s the only night she’s thankful abby left. it’s then she realizes as she attempts to get in her shared apartment with blondie that she’s keyless and no way to get into her apartment. the office is closed and she is so severely fucked.

vi doesn’t realize that’s she just sitting there like an idiot staring until a stranger’s voice pulls her out of it.

“any luck with your mind warping powers or are you keyless?”

vi jumps at the voice, locking eyes with the most gorgeous person she’s ever seen in her life. it doesn’t help you are wearing the shortest skirt she’s ever seen, cleavage spilling out of your top and she admires the white sheer top you’re wearing.

she feels a tad breathless.

that has nothing to with you.

just her predicament.

totally.

“do you have a roommate to call?”

vi comes to it and she murmurs and soft yeah, trying to not make eye contact with the goddess she somehow has managed to embarrass herself over.

quickly, she dials abby’s number, waiting for her to pick up not, once, not twice, but three times. damn fucker is munching right now, vi swears to herself.

but she didn’t say it to herself, she said it out loud where the girl of dreams is giggling as she speed texts abby, trying to evoke a response from her.

“indisposed and munching?” you ask, you’re smirking and vi is blushing.

“yeah, her favorite extra curricular activity and she does it exceedingly fast.”

“is it yours too?”

shit.

oh my fucking shit.

are you hitting on her?

no. that’s not humanly possible for someone like you to be hitting on someone as tragic as her. vi’s convinced it’s just because abby isn’t here. that’s all. her cockblocking stunner of a best friend isn’t here to make her life sufferable but the way you’re eyeing her up like a hot piece of meat should make her feel slightly objectified if you she wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

“right girl, right munch.”

it’s the dumbest thing vi’s ever said but you laugh. offering her a spot on your couch and she’s eternally grateful for. you even have a pair of shorts and a spare t-shirt that she can sleep in. she’s eternally grateful she doesn’t have to sit outside her apartment alone for god knows how long waiting for abby to be done with her seven course meal.

violet planned to actually sleep but then you play a vinyl record on the turntable and it just so happens to be vi’s favorite and she can’t stop telling about every song on the record. she’s so animated as she talks, her powder hues vibrant as she goes into the lyrics she loves the most, what songs made her cry first listen and the songs that still make her cry to this day.

you’re looking at her the way vi’s always wanted to be look at. before either of you know it, four albums later, it’s nearly four in the morning and you’re leaning in close to her, so much so vi isn’t sure she can even breath. a vibrant pink strand gets twirled around your finger.

“know about all your favorite albums but not a name to the pretty face.”

“violet. or vi. whatever you prefer.” vi struggles to breathe even further as your lips ghost over hers.

“what do you prefer?”

“violet.”

you take a pause, licking your lips, slightly crazing violet’s lips. she looks a like a deer in headlight, terrified to make the first move but you like how shy she is, how she voices the thoughts she isn’t meant to. there’s a sweetness you want to sink your teeth into like cotton candy.

“violet it is then.”

putting her out of her own misery, your soft lips mold with hers and you’re dominant from the start. placing a delicate hand on her throat, claiming her with your tongue as you devour her whole. it’s hot and heavy. the clashing of teeth, the pulls at her pink hair, and violet can’t help but bring you closer to her.

still wearing this insufferably short skirt, vi smooths her touch over your soft thighs beneath the fabric. the two of you getting lost in each other until it’s all abruptly stops. she’s funneling her under the hem of your shirt, playing with the buttons until she absentmindedly plucks one open.

“fuck—” you curse, trying to maintain your compose but violet plucks another button and your perfect tits spill out of the material.

“yeah?” violet smirks, not being nearly as innocent as she appears.

“time to put that extra curricular to use then. let’s see how munch of a munch you can be.”

rayray’s nonsense. UM HI IDEK KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. um. yeah. abby x vi are my favs and i'm forcing this on everyone but i also fuck with it??? idek. this is a crazy midnight kinda post, spur of the moment if you will. gonna try not to get tew in my head 'bout this. that's for future me to deal with BUT ALSO DO WE FUCK WITH IT???? only time will tell. ALRIGHT. let me work on this mega long vi fic i got going on .... byeeeeee ♡

[evermore-fashion]

Goodbye 2024!

I cannot believe we're now at the end of 2024 with another New Year upon us, seriously where has this year gone?!

I remember starting out this year by leaving Tumblr and then returning a few weeks later and you know what? I don't regret anything I did at the time. I've learnt to love Tumblr in my own way again and not feel the pressure to be posting every day and for me, it works. 2024 was all about coming to terms with times gone by as well as finding a new path forward on my own.

I've met some great people online (through gaming) and they've slowly helped me come out my shell again. I'll always be a work in progress (mentally and emotionally) but I'm grateful to just be me and not feel like I'm stepping on egg shells as well as being valued as more than just an agony aunt/doorstep for trauma dumping. As for 2025, well I never make resolutions and thats something I'll always stick by because every day is a day you can make a change in your life. Why wait until December 31st/January 1st? So I hope you all have a peaceful New Year and remember don't feel like you should be doing anything to celebrate. I know I won't be. Do what makes you happy, even if it means treating this time of year as just another day.

See you all in 2025. 💜

[gyaruhana]

semi smut ? where her and reader are in a toxic relationship

Semi - Toxic smutty headcannons

Synopsis: just semi being toxic..

A/N: turned this into headcannons bc I didn't know what plot to right (though there's a little paragraph at the end). I hope that's okay! Anyway- second squid game fic of the day !! I cheered

Warnings: mean semi, manipulative, mentions of vibrators, light slapping, edging,

➠ Let’s be real.. Semi is manipulative. When she first laid her eyes on you, she thought you looked too innocent. It’s one of the reasons she even got with you in the first place. 

➠ You were cute and naive and she believed you’d be unable to leave her ever no matter what she did to you. 

➠ So, yeah, she's mean. And maybe she likes making you cry a little too much. It’s not her fault. It’s yours for looking at her with big doe eyes with tears spilling from the corners and slowly dripping down your face. 

➠But she won’t hit you or anything of the sort (unless it’s during sex and she’s punishing you..)

➠ She never admits that she’s wrong. She’s just always right. Every argument always ends with her saying it’s your fault before she decides that you need to be punished for your attitude. 

➠ Her punishments are mostly just edging. She loves to keep you stuck between that feeling of almost getting to cum before stopping all together so you can let out a cry and beg her to give you what you want.

➠ She does like a little bit of hitting though. Nothing too rough - just some light slaps across the face or on your ass. Hard enough to sting but not to leave bruises. 

➠ When she’s not punishing you, it still sort of feels like a punishment. 

➠ Sex with her is usually just her trying to please herself. She’ll let you cum as many times as you do but, if she has enough then she’ll leave you high and dry.

➠ Honestly likes giving you vibrators to wear and then turning them on in public settings like a restaurant. She enjoys watching you squirm and beg for her to turn it off. 

➠ She keeps it at a setting that she knows will make it impossible for you to cum but sometimes she likes to randomly max it out or, when you’re close, she’ll stop it just to hear you cry out. 

➠ Overall, she’s really just a manipulative girlfriend who thinks you’re completely innocent and likes to abuse that belief.

“Don’t you have any respect for me? Do you think I’d lie to you?” Semi spoke as she thrusted two of her fingers into your hole - her thumb rubbing your clit teasingly to keep you away from the edge of a climax but close enough that you’d be in a tortuous state of impatience. You’d be stupid to think she’ll let you cum after you spoke up to her. Even when tears filled your eyes, all she did was mock you.  “Don’t cry. This is your fault. If you had just been good, you’d be squirting by now,”

[thequeenofcurses]

Naughty Girls Get Naughty Rewards

fem reader x dilf!Toji. You’re a terrible influence on Megumi, so his dad decides to give you a lesson. reader is 18. mdni. banner by: @cafekitsune

“Take it, take it, take it, take it, take it,” each phrase was met with a hard and powerful thrust into your aching pussy. Your best friend’s dad, Toji Fushiguro, was above you in between your legs, bucking his hips into you like a wild animal. 

It wasn't his fault though. Almost every day after school, you came over to “study" with Megumi. Instead of actually studying or doing homework together, you always persuaded Megumi to play games or some other activity with you. You were such a terrible influence on him. Sometimes, you even convinced Megumi to ditch classes with you.

One day, Toji even caught you stealing some of his cigarettes! “You wanna explain why you’re messing with my stuff? Or should I make you regret it?” His large, tall frame intimidated you, and you were genuinely scared of what he might do. Luckily, he let you off with a warning after you swore not to go through his stuff again. “Next time, I won’t be so nice. Got it?”

You would come over and eat up their food, making such a mess in their kitchen. The same way Toji has your wet pussy dripping and making a mess all over him right now.

"Need to punish you,” Toji breathed out. He continued his fast, hard strokes. He slammed into you over and over again. The primary sound coming from this room is his full balls slapping against your clit. He must've been at least twice your age, but he had the stamina of someone half that. “Naughty little girl." 

Each forceful thrust made you ache and moan. Growing louder and louder. Toji slowed down only slightly to ask, "Are you okay?”

“Yes, but I-” That was all he needed to hear. He placed his hand on your mouth to muffle your ever-growing moans. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. He was rutting into you quickly like a starved creature during mating season. He nuzzled his head in between your breasts and continued his ruthless pounding. “Mhmphh" was all you could make out with your mouth covered. 

It must've been at least an hour of him nonstop fucking you. Your pretty little pussy could only handle so much. Toji had stamina for days. As if he made some sort of heavenly pact to be able to fuck for as long as he wants. 

Megumi was asleep in the next room over, and him waking up, finding his father balls deep inside you, was not a good look. 

Toji looked coyly at you with those sharp green eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. Or maybe that was just his cock reaching so deep inside you.

“Feel that?” he questioned as he pressed down on your tummy. He had you back in a missionary position. You glanced down to see a giant imprint of his length from inside of you. “That’s me marking you as mine.” All you could do was moan and when you got loud enough to possibly wake up Megumi, he kept covering your mouth to shut you up.

He leaned down, his breath brushing against your ear. "You look like you’re barely holding it together. Cute." His tone was low and teasing, but there was an edge of satisfaction that he couldn’t hide.

“‘M so full,” you pleaded. Your body began to speak for you. This past hour Toji had made you cum three times and he was working towards your fourth.

 “Ride me.” It wasn’t a request. “Wanna see you take me all the way down.” Sore, you were so incredibly sore, but he was making you feel so good. You straddled him, your folds still soaked with your juices. You tried to line up his cock at your entrance, but your hands were still shaking– still not fully recovered.

Toji nearly laughed watching you try and fail to get him inside you. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s got ya”. In one swift motion, he has you sliding down his length. Inch by terribly slow full inch until you’re bottoming out on him. It quite literally takes your breath away. Your arms find their place around his neck while he guides you by holding your hips. You bounce on him, finding a good pleasurable rhythm until Toji can’t take it anymore.

The transition was sudden. You were riding him at your own pace, building up your fourth orgasm when he softly bites your shoulder and takes over. “I know you’re close,” he muttered. “Cum.” Like a jackhammer, Toji pounds into you from below, firmly grasping your hips so you don’t fall. “I love the way your pussy feels when you cum.” And that was all it took. His deep yet nonchalant voice helped carry you to that needed release. Your pussy twitches and clamps down harder on his cock if possible. He continues, fucking up into you, even when you’re done. Overstimulating you. 

Toji could tell by your shaking legs that you had had enough. “Y/n, you on the pill?” Your eyes opened widely while your heart dropped to your stomach in fear. You quickly shook your head ‘no’, too nervous to speak. “Tch. Damn, shame.”

Disappointedly, Toji pulled out of you. He backed up and put his cock right in front of your mouth. He worked his shaft so quickly as if he was trying to win a Mario Party minigame. “Open.” You complied, opening your mouth as wide as you could. “There we go. Eyes. Let me see those eyes.” If this was a staring contest, it would certainly be a tie. Neither one of you taking your eyes off the other. “Fuck, baby.” The second you teasingly stuck your tongue out, he threw his head back and released his seed. 

The goal was to get it in your mouth. Unfortunately, Toji didn't have time to care right now. His cum landed on parts of your face and some of it into your waiting mouth. Toji didn’t care if you swallowed it or not. He got what he wanted. 

He collapsed beside you, breathing heavily after that workout. You avoided his gaze, but you could see the faint shadow of a smirk appear on his lips. Your skin still burned from everywhere he touched you.

The sound of Megumi stirring in the next room sent a chill through you.

He looked over, watching you with those sharp green eyes that seemed to strip away any confidence you could ever have. "Go clean up before the kid wakes up," he said gruffly, rolling onto his side like he didn’t have a care in the world. "And don’t forget who you’re messing with next time you decide to be a brat and steal my shit."

You stumbled to your feet, legs trembling, the weight of his gaze following you out the door. 

Toji had one last thought before he drifted off to sleep.

Maybe y/n and Megumi should have sleepovers more often. 

A/N I literally woke up and wrote most of this in bed on my phone because I couldn’t get it out of my head.

[mandalhoerian]

OK DISCOURSE TIME!!! I've played TONS of otome/otome gacha in my time so I want to talk about this phenonenon a lil bit!

I totally get where this is coming from, first of all! I think the reason it feels like that is because the MC isn’t really a stand-in for us in the traditional sense. She’s written as her own character: she has a distinct personality, a backstory, a voice, and her own reactions to situations, differing from a lot of dating simulators out there. Like, take Mystic Messenger. in that game, the MC is almost completely blank. She doesn’t even have a face or a defined backstory, and her personality is shaped almost entirely by the player’s choices. This makes it super easy to project yourself onto her because there’s no existing character to get in the way. She’s more of a placeholder for you, so it feels like you’re the one texting the RFA members, building those relationships, and getting pulled into the drama. The game is designed to make you feel like the central character in every way.

Now compare that to something like Obey Me, where the MC is also somewhat neutral but still has a bit more personality and presence. They don’t have a backstory or a detailed face either, but they do have a clearer voice in the dialogue. Their responses often hint at their own sense of humor or emotions, even if it’s subtle. Still, they’re written to be flexible enough that the player can feel like they are the one navigating the relationships with the demon brothers. It’s a middle ground, there’s some character there, but not so much that it takes you out of the experience of self-insertion.

In LADS, the writing leans more into a story-driven approach and strips you of choice-making that puts you in control of the MC, where she’s the protagonist and you’re more of an observer. This is why it can feel like a novel or a TV show where you’re rooting for the main character but might also feel a little jealous because she isn’t you.

When games like this give the MC their own traits AND takes away the element of choice, it creates this weird disconnect. On one hand, we’re supposed to project onto her because she represents us in the story, but on the other hand, she’s clearly her own person with her own role in the narrative. It’s less “I’m the one dating Xavier” and more “I’m watching her date Xavier,” which can absolutely bring up those feelings of jealousy or distance.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing---it just means the game leans more toward being a story-driven experience rather than a traditional self-insert dating sim!!

Guys I may be mentally insane but ... Why do I low-key feel jealous of MC when I see clips of the upcoming cards... Especially the Sylus one..

IK SHE'S MEANT TO BE US BUT 😭😭

[crguang]

beneath it all, you

“Since I’ve met you, I've felt abandoned without your nearness; your nearness is all I ever dream of, the only thing.” in which garofano finds her equal <3

established relationship, fem!reader (r is explicitly referred to as “girl” a few times), smut, oral sex (garo receiving), fingering (r receiving), some praise because i’m me, uhh age gap, r has very sharp teeth and is normal about cannibalism as a metaphor for undying devotion, 7.7k words

A/N: this is not kafka but i swear she’s coming next… this was for me and like 2 mutuals but i figured why not post it here for the ptn community on tumblr. who doesn’t love a milf am i right??? go play this game if you’re not already

Your pulse is steady under the cutting edge of her sewing needle as it glides down the sensuous curve of your neck in a deliberate pattern, along one of the warm veins she knows lies right beneath this layer of perfumed skin. It thumps softly though not without a care; Garofano counts 52 beats per minute, each of them for her. In turn, hers races with no clear destination. Your head slowly tilts to the side, opening yourself to her burning gaze like a naive, doe-eyed fool, but the look in your lidded eyes only speaks of certainty. Three simple words are written for her in their colored depths: all of me. She welcomes those words like a confession. If you were to use your voice, you would say it isn’t one. Your truth is evident and unashamed. All of you, hers. All of you, laid before her in a perfect picture of vulnerability. Submission. Her pillows support your head, her sheets tenderly caress your bare arms and back with even the faintest movement the same way her weapon of choice traces the hollow of your throat, and her knitted shawl, made with her expert hands, still rests around your shoulders from the moment you absentmindedly mentioned feeling chilly earlier. Now, it embraces you so well she might feel a spark of envy in her gut if her insides weren’t overflowing with something else— desire. Desire to possess more than she already does. It’s never enough as if there constantly exists a crumb of you she has yet to taste, and just when she believes she’s had the whole of you, you meet her eyes with a smile that shows the barest hint of the canines past your lips and she’s certain that there is more to be had. 

Garofano can’t resist applying a small amount of pressure between your collarbones, pricking the skin until a drop of crimson bubbles up to the surface. She watches you and you smile at her little test like you did the very first time. She reflects your amusement with a low chuckle. The needle, dipped in blood, continues its journey down the middle of your chest. If it was a scalpel, she could have opened a cavity and fondly brushed the pad of her index over the length of your breastbone, but she would have gotten greedy and slipped her fingers between your ribs for a graze of your heart. Instead, she trails the pointed end across the expanse of your thorax. She both witnesses and feels the fluctuation of your next breath, a touch faster than the last, and she feels a tingling sensation in her limbs at the sight. Your upper body is completely bare to her leisure touch. She drinks in the rising goosebumps her needle leaves behind. Her gaze follows the glint of metal wherever it glides on your beautiful skin and her mind is unable to conjure up a compliment she hasn’t already uttered on your previous nights together. What new words can she possibly use that will encapsulate all of your beauty? She always has the same ones sitting on her lips: art, sacred, inestimable. Perhaps there is more value in repeating them over and over until her tongue grows numb rather than digging around for novelty. She has spoken every thought, has recited every stanza of poetry she’s found with your name spelled between the lines. Her love for you is anything but new after all. It’s familiar, like walking the same road home at the end of the day so often you could take the path with your eyes shut. Yes, she will repeat herself as long as she can use her vocal chords to form words. If not, she will write. Because love means nothing if she can’t express it for you to know. 

Garofano traces the gentle swell of your breast for a suspended moment. Your eyes are tame as you observe her every move before the sewing tool smoothly draws a curvy line back towards your heart. She keeps it there, watching your chest rise and fall under it. Her bedroom smells faintly of gardenia and stands still against the flow of time beyond its intimate space. You like the sweetness she carries with her, you often tell her. She’s not sure if you mean her fragrance or her. Looking at you now, with your heavy eyelids and an abundance of fondness for her on your face, she thinks you must be in love. The thought lights the embers in her belly, and its warmth spreads to the tip of her ears. 

“You know,” she starts quietly, “right now, your life is in my hands.”

She underlines her point by pressing the needle firmly against your skin without drawing blood. She knows exactly where to pierce for a fatal strike to the heart to take you out before you realize she’s done it, and she doesn’t even have to know your body like the back of her hand for it. Her needles are many things; tools she uses to create personally designed dresses, subtle weapons in snuffing the life out of the Garden’s enemies’ eyes and tonight, an intimate means of exploration. She glides the cool tip along the lines of your body, meticulous and attentive, like she wishes to lose herself in them. Her control and precision are unmatched, she doesn’t harm, only caresses. Though at times, she thinks you wish she would do the former, as if it was the strongest way to demonstrate what she feels for you. She prefers soothing strokes and tender embraces, sincere words and fond looks. It's unfamiliar to you, but she will hold your hand through your learning process regardless of how long it takes. 

Your eyes gleam at her words, prompting a knowing smile from her. You wrap both hands around her wrist and press the needle closer to your chest.

“Yes,” you agree easily, almost breathlessly, “right now and always.”

“Always? That’s a very long time.”

“Not long enough.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle with her growing smile. You release her wrist and allow her to draw patterns on your skin again, half circles and made up letters on your breast, sometimes dangerously close to the stiff peak of your nipple. Her free hand brushes up your abdomen. Her palm is warm, it often is, as she maps out the curves and dips of your stomach with a seasoned touch. Garofano knows just how to steal the breath from your lungs and render you a gasping mess for her. She’s so very skilled with her hands; anywhere they pass, a shudder follows closely. Your flesh is malleable between her fingers and she handles you like one of the expensive and delicate fabrics she works on whenever she has a moment’s rest— she’s careful, patient as a saint, and with a single curl of her slick fingers, a prayer of her name tumbles out of your mouth in half broken moans.

She cups your right breast and your lips part further. 

“You would stay with me forever then?” She asks, her voice a sultry caress. She already knows your answer and she never tires of hearing it.

“Mhmm,” you nod with a cheeky smile because you know what it does to her to see you so eager and devoted. “Forever yours.”

Her eyes burn into yours, you hold her lustful stare with as much heat reflected in your irises. Her thumb fleetingly passes over your hard nipple and the sensation is enough for your hunger to grow. Her hand leaves your breast to trail upward, over your collarbone, and she wraps her slender fingers around the base of your throat. She feels your next swallow under her palm. Garofano leans closer, her thighs now straddling your waist, and lifts the needle to your cheek. It unhurriedly draws a slim heart on your skin, but your gaze stays locked on hers and you tilt your chin, subconsciously gravitating towards her. Her guts clench at your expression, naked desire etched on the lines of your face. She lowers her eyes to the curve of your upper lip, so full and begging to be kissed, with the tip of your white canines visible just past it. She looks back at you.

“You look like you want to eat me,” she says teasingly, but there’s a truth to her words. 

“I do.” Your breath is slightly shorter and you swallow again, pupils blown. You inch closer to her, and your longing for her could not be clearer. “I want to tear into you. I want to sink my teeth into your skin and bite off a piece of you so that your taste never fades from my mouth.”

Her heart thunders in her chest like it’s trying to close the distance between it and your own. The needle pauses its languid movements. Your body is soft and pliant under her and the tips of your fingers loosely clutch the fabric of her shirt, holding onto her even as she’s pressed against you. Your eyelids droop further, your rising chest flushed to hers. You look intoxicated with her presence alone and Garofano feels her commendable patience fraying at the edges. You bring a hand to cover hers holding the needle again and stroke her knuckles. The warmth of your skin seeps into her, expanding to the rest of her body.

“Carve your name into my skin so there’s no doubt as to who I belong to.”

The pad of her thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling it down to see more of your teeth. She thinks your jaw must ache, hungry as you are. 

“And scar this perfect skin?” She smiles, eyes dark.

“Yeah. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Mmm…” 

Her thumb slips past your lips and slowly slides over the upper row of teeth there, back and forth in a soothing pattern. Your mouth stays parted for her and your eyes soften at the gesture. She absentmindedly seeks to soothe the dull ache of your teeth with her touch but all she succeeds to do is fan the fire within you. Your fangs graze her skin yet she doesn’t flinch, used to their cutting shape, or perhaps because she knows you won’t bite despite every instinct screaming at you to do so. Her trust is not unfounded. You kiss her thumb before it leaves your mouth. 

Garofano softly shakes her head and cups your jaw. “No, I think I’ll claim you in another much more enjoyable way.”

She emphasizes her murmured promise with a kiss. Her lips lock with yours like two puzzle pieces made for each other. She’s languid and firm, a hand under your jaw, and she kisses you until the quickened rhythm of your breaths synchronizes. She relishes the sound your mouths make with every brief separation and the feeling of your lips sliding against hers, always greedy for more. One of your hands sneaks under the hem of her shirt to trail up the curve of her spine. A small shiver follows your touch. You chase her when she pulls away, and a short chuckle escapes her before she presses loving kisses across your jaw. Your fingers sink in her voluminous hair in a gentle grip. You squirm beneath her, your skin is already heating up under her soft ministrations because of a few kisses and unlike her, you’re not known for your patience. Garofano quells your growing impatience with a warning graze of her teeth against the edge of your jaw. 

You’d almost forgotten the sewing needle held confidently between her thumb and forefinger. Garofano withdraws from you and immediately earns a petulant sound out of your mouth. Amusement shines in her eyes at the slight pout of your lips as she straightens up above you, sitting on your pelvis, but her fingertips ache to give you everything you want. She will, in due time. First, she wants to savour the feel of your body under her hands and bring you over the edge using only the fingers you love so much. She places the needle on the hollow of your throat and makes her way downward a second time, though this time she ignores the erect buds on your chest and draws a straight line down your abdomen. The pleasant sting of her weapon makes you shiver even as the room’s temperature steadily rises. You regard her with heavy eyes and she follows the movement of her hand down your body while the other feels the curves of your waist, possessively squeezing the flesh now and then. The zone around your navel is sensitive, she leisurely circles it with her needle and her pleased smile widens an inch at your response— the sharp hitch of a breath. 

“Truly a work of art,” Garofano utters appreciatively, more to herself than to you. 

Her nails softly rake your skin, a satisfying contrast to the sting of her needle. It glides over your stomach with no specific destination, etching shapes and broken patterns onto your body. You shift under her. Your hands come to rest on her thighs, fingertips digging lightly into the supple flesh, and Garofano can tell you’re getting a little needy. 

“Mmh? Is there something you need, my darling?”

“You,” your answer is instant and laced with desire, her gaze flickers to your face at your tone. “Always you.”

Your eyes are aflame with lust, and she thinks it’s a wonder you haven’t tried to take things into your own hands yet. Your need to be touched by her, to feel the love confessions she writes on your body with her nimble fingers, constitutes most of your inhibitions right now. Your restraint is endearing, as is the way your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet your drying lips. 

“It’s taking everything in me not to pounce on you,” you continue honestly.

Garofano’s mouth quirks up into the beginnings of a smirk. “Is that so…?” 

She brings a hand to her collar and deftly undos the first few buttons of her shirt, drinking in the darkened color of your eyes on her. She exposes the slope of her neck to your hungry gaze and goes as far as popping open the fourth button so that you get a teasing glimpse of the smooth expanse of her chest. She feels your grip tightening on her thighs, but you still make no move to pounce on her like you said.

“Nothing?” She taunts you one more time, dipping a finger between the opening of her shirt and pulling the fabric down only an inch. 

You look at her with pursed lips. She laughs quietly and leans forward to plant a lingering kiss on your mouth that you quickly reciprocate, your eyes fluttering shut. Her breath fans your lips when she pulls away.

“You’re being such a sweet girl for me tonight,” she mutters against your mouth, “allowing me to indulge in you like this even though you’re itching to touch me. I can almost hear your thoughts, what you’ll do to me later.”

“I’ll put my mouth on you,” you say like a promise, “my tongue, my teeth. They long for you, you know— my teeth. They ache at the mere sight of you.”

“I know, darling girl…” Her nose brushes your cheek with the next kiss she presses on the corner of your lips. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“No. I can never be close enough, immersed enough, it’s driving me crazy.” Your hands move from her thighs to the curve of her ass, and a small gasp escapes her at your firm grip. “You’ll be covered in the shape of my mouth once I’m through with you.”

Your words make her pussy clench. The mental image of your marks on her, bruising her skin until it turns a beautiful shade of purple and leaving behind a dull ache she’ll still feel the next day, swirls around in her head. You’ve previously shared your displeasure at her choice of clothing, how she prefers long sleeves and high collars, and complained about your handiwork going unnoticed because of it. You’ve taken to leaving lipstick marks on the underside of her jaw instead, and she finds your wish to claim her for all to see maddening. You share her passion, her visceral desire to possess and never let go. You cling to her with scorched fingertips and sweet vows on the tip of your tongue, your yearning for closeness mirrors hers in all the ways that matter most. It takes her breath away each time to bear witness to the profound way you love, and she has to admit that she hasn't yet gotten used to standing in the heart of it. 

Garofano guides your lips to hers for another insistent kiss. She readily swallows the quiet sounds out of your mouth and keeps her body flushed against you for a moment longer. Her tongue runs across the seam of your lips, and you part them wider to welcome it. Your shared saliva meld together with no clear idea where yours begins and hers ends, until there is only the feel of you, impossibly close, taking over senses. You often kiss her like you’re running out of air and she’s the one breathing it back into your lungs, as if she held the essence of your being on her lips. She attempts to withdraw from your mouth enough to catch her breath and your fingers flex on her ass as you lean forward to capture her lips again. A pleased hum sounds from her throat at your eager kiss but she still punishes your gluttony with a controlled press of the needle at your stomach. The sudden sting makes you gasp in silent surprise, and Garofano takes the opportunity to straighten up above you once more. 

“Patience,” she reminds you, “you’ll get what you want soon enough. But for now, let me enjoy you.”

You don’t respond, your legs shut in an effort at restraining the heat between them. Her gaze tracks the needle in her hand as it moves across your skin and she revels in the slight tremble of your limbs wherever it passes. The tip is a teasing sensation on your body and she feels a deep satisfaction at the shivers it earns from you, your hands obediently back on her thighs like the good girl you can be. She can hear some of the breaths you exhale every now and then. Your chest thumps with need, your fingertips clutch at her skirt and your dark eyes are fixed on her form sitting above you, but you reign in your urges like she so gently demanded. Luckily for you, feeling you quiver underneath her, exposed and open, has Garofano’s hunger flare up in her guts. 

She moves backwards to settle between your legs and your thighs part almost instinctively to accommodate her. Your thin underwear clings to your skin, already damp from her earlier attention. Garofano shoots you an amused smile.

“I’ve barely touched you.”

“Garo, have you seen yourself? I get wet watching you sew.”

She laughs and you mirror her expression with a small one of your own. “So that’s why you insist on hanging around when I work…”

“Busted,” your smile widens when she playfully pinches your inner thigh. “Can you blame me? You’re the sexiest person in this garden. Don’t tell Mentor. Though she’d probably agree.”

“You’re impossible.”

The air is thick with anticipation and Garofano’s eyes are full of adoration. She runs her splayed fingers flat down your torso from your breast to your pelvic bone, stopping just above the waistband of your panties. Your hips shift under her touch but she pulls her hand back to take hold of your left thigh instead and you bite back an indignant protest. She teases you with the needle in her other hand, trailing the tip up your right inner thigh firm enough to sting pleasantly without causing harm. The subtle weapon draws closer to the edge of your underwear, and the muscles of your thigh flex with the restraint it takes you not to squirm restlessly. You’re aching for her to touch you properly, she can see it in the way your breathing picks up a beat when she kneads your flesh, her nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. Still, you don’t pressure her to quicken her pace. Garofano rewards your good behavior with a kiss to the heated spot in the crook of your thigh. She can smell your arousal, intoxicatingly obvious. You’re ready for her and she’s barely done anything. She almost groans. 

Garofano effortlessly discards the needle with a flick of her wrist. She wants to touch you properly, feel your quivering muscles and raised hairs under her palms as she pleasures you. Two fingers toy with the band of your underwear and slowly reveal the curls underneath. She can hear each of your heavy exhales as she bares the rest of your body to her gaze. Your last article of clothing is discarded next and Garofano sucks in an inaudible breath at the sight of the telltale glisten of your lips exposing your arousal. She runs a single digit over your pussy, from your short, slick hairs down to your slippery slit and through your warm folds. Her finger shines in the low light of the bedroom. it ignores your aching clit and explores your cunt like it has a hundred times before. Your hips chase her touch, silently asking for more, but for some time it’s all she gives you. She spreads your lips to admire the pretty colors of your cunt and spreads your wetness all over your sex until it steadily drips down the crack of your ass cheeks. You sigh softly, a touch irritated despite the pleasure that courses through you at her reverent ministrations, looking down at her expectantly.

Garofano smiles; your lips part wider to speak— to whine for more, no doubt— and she applies pressure on your clit before you can utter a word. Your breathing stutters, she hears it more than anything, and your body desperately jerks further into her. Whatever sentence you were going to say is replaced by a quiet moan that makes her stomach clench in pleasure. Your pretty little sounds, so unashamed, always get the same reaction from her. She rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud and kneads the flesh of your thigh with her other hand, relishing the feel of it between her fingers. You get wetter by the second and she hasn’t even pushed a finger inside of you yet. 

“Hah, Garo…” you breathe out her name; it sounds softer in your mouth. 

She teasingly flicks your clit with a fingertip and tears another lovely noise from you. “Yes? What are you aching for, my darling? Tell me.”

“More… Your fingers.”

“What about my fingers?”

Her smile widens at the short whine you respond with. You can get so needy when she touches you like this, you forget yourself and easily lose your mind to the stimulation she provides you. It’s such a contrast to when you have your fingers around her throat and are stealing the air from her lungs with incessant kisses. She enjoys both versions of you, especially since you look this gorgeous, pleading and at her mercy. 

“Inside me,” you gasp brokenly, “God, just fuck me like you mean it— Mnh!”

“Bossy.”

You’re interrupted by two of her fingers slipping inside your cunt with no resistance on your part. Her digits are immediately enveloped by your dripping heat and curl inward to brush your inner walls, earning a proper moan from you this time. One of your hands gropes your own chest, thumb swiping over your nipple and adding to the assault of sensations your body is under.

Garofano’s thrusts don’t reflect her gentle personality, she adds a third finger that has your back aching off the bed and your eyes fluttering shut. Her hand leaves your thigh to toy with your momentarily neglected clit and you shudder with the first touch of her index on your pulsing nub. She can feel you clenching deliciously around her fingers. The wet sounds of them thrusting in and out of your needy pussy and your soft cries of pleasure fill the room in an erotic harmony. It’s music to her ears, she can’t tear her eyes from the arousing picture you make as you get closer to your peak; your hips eagerly meet each hard thrust, your brows twist in ecstasy and your lips are forever parted to let out those maddening moans you can’t contain. Her stimulation is unrelenting, she watches the way the pad of her finger rapidly teases your clit then further smears your arousal over your sex. Your glistening curls are temptatious, she thinks of all the ways she’ll taste you in the upcoming hour and the sinful thoughts only serve to fuel her desire to make you cream around her digits. She buries them inside you to the knuckle, savouring the warm and velvety feel of your cunt on her skin. 

She neglects her own arousal to focus on yours and your throbbing clit under her thumb, her need growing between her thighs. You pinch your nipple with two fingers and she briefly abandons the bud to bring a wet thumb to your other breast. She leans forward, never slowing her pace inside you, and lifts the plush mound to her mouth. Your eyes rapidly blink open, head tilting to gaze down at her, and Garofano’s pleased smile reflects in the crinkles around her eyes as she meets yours. Your free hand tangles into her long locks. Your grip is tight and desperate, a way to hold on to her closely. Your desire is written on your sweaty skin, it’s in your heated stare and in the flash of your tongue peeking just past your open mouth, and it’s all for her. All of you. Her tongue swirls around your hard nipple and suckles in time with the thrusts inside your cunt. You won’t last long like this, she knows your body’s tells better than you do and the way you clamp around her hand is the most obvious one of them all. 

Your breast slips out of her mouth with a slick sound. You respond with a small noise of protest.

“Don’t stop,” you almost whine, pushing her closer to your chest with the hand in her hair, “don’t stop, baby…”

“So greedy,” Garofano places sweet kisses on your breast, but it isn’t enough. Your fingers tighten in her hair and she curls her fingers in retaliation, knuckles brushing your sensitive walls. Your sharp intake of breath is as intoxicating as your taste. “You were such a good girl, don’t forget your manners now. It’d be a shame to stop right before you come for me.”

She slows her pace to a tantalizing rub to illustrate her point and draws another indignant mewl from you. She chuckles in amusement. 

“Garo, don’t tease…”

“But you make such pretty sounds for me.”

“Mmnh, I sound better when I come.”

“Oh, I know.” Her reply is low and honeyed, dripping with want.

It’s true, you do sound the most beautiful when you’re coming undone around her fingers or on her tongue. Your breath hitches, your eyes lift to the ceiling, and high moans meant only for her tumble from your pretty lips. With the image in mind, Garofano thrusts her fingers as deep as they can go, hard and fast, relishing the widening of your eyes at the sudden shift. Your soaping wet cunt clamps around her digits, sucking her in and refusing to let her go. The upper row of her teeth graze the heated skin of your breast and just barely touches the stiff peak, but it still earns her a breathless reaction from you. Your skin is burning with the desire coiling tight in the depths of your stomach. Garofano’s tongue darts out to swipe over your nipple just as the coil bursts and your orgasm crashes over you in electrifying waves of pleasure. You gush around her fingers and she merely rubs your inner walls to help you drag out your orgasm. Her name is a sinful drawl out of your mouth, her ears tingle with the rousing sound. Your desperate grip on her hair is almost painful, and she hums low in her throat at the pleasant sensation.

Her fingers effortlessly slide out of you once you’ve come down from your high and she lifts them to her line of sight so you can see the telltale glisten of your cum on her skin. Your lashes flutter open as you catch your breath and Garofano plants a parting kiss on your chest before sitting back on her knees. She meets your eyes with a satisfied glint in hers and brings her hand to her mouth, slowly sucking one cum-covered finger at a time. The digit disappears past her lips then slips out with a wet pop! that has your irises cower from the darkness of your pupils. Garofano makes a show of licking her fingers clean while you watch with parted lips, your pussy still pulsing with unabashed need. You lift yourself on your elbows. Your gaze is smoldering, full of promise, and she merely has the time to smile before you lounge yourself at her, wrapping her in your arms and bringing her back onto the bed with you. A surprised laugh escapes her as she willingly steps into your embrace. Her back softly collides with the firm mattress. Your lips are already on her jaw scattering kisses here and there, and the sudden movement has swept some purple locks into her face, tickling her cheek. She’s forced to shut her eyes when your mouth reaches the slope of her nose, her smile stretching wider. Her hands sneak around your bare torso and travel along the path of your spine in loving motions, as if writing those words that make stars burst in your eyes directly onto your skin. You hum contentedly near her brow in response. 

“My turn, now,” you mutter into her temple, a finger already tracing the hollow of her throat. 

You feel her next swallow under the pad of your fingertip. You pull away from her face to gaze down at her, and her eyes open to hold your stare, warm anticipation sending shivers through her limbs. Your fingertip is replaced by your palm, your fingers wrap around her throat and lightly squeeze the sides of it once. Garofano’s breath hitches, not due to the hand around her neck but rather to the heady veil over your half-lidded eyes as the tip of your tongue trails over your upper teeth. She recognizes that hunger, and her pussy throbs at the sight. 

“The world may not see my marks on you with all of these shirts you like to wear…” your free hand runs a straight line from her collar down to her abdomen, forcibly popping buttons on the way and effectively ruining the garment until more of her skin is revealed for your viewing pleasure. Your lips part wider, molars aching at the expanse of creamy skin before you. “But you’ll definitely feel them.” You lift your gaze to hers. “You’ll ache, like I do for you.”

“Is that a promise?” She asks cheekily.

You smile sharply. “Just a heads up.”

You lower yourself over her to capture her lips in a wet kiss. Your thigh slots between hers, bending in a way that applies delicious pressure to her covered cunt. You swallow the throaty moan that spills from her mouth and caress her tongue with your own. Garofano easily meets your intensity halfway. Your connected mouths move in a sensual dance that steals the air right from her lungs. Her hips shift under you, shamelessly seeking the dizzying friction of your thigh against her cunt. For one moment, you lose your mind to the intoxicating feeling of her kiss and melt into her body a little more. She tastes like sweet tea and the cum she sucked off her fingers just now, a strange yet addictive mix to taste off her lips. You normally could waste hours kissing her like this with no complaint, but your current impatience has other plans. Your hand trails up to her chest and sneaks under the pad of her bra, cupping a handful of her breast. It squeezes and kneads and caresses, manipulating the smooth flesh like clay.  Through your locked lips, Garofano’s sharp exhales become yours along with each quiet noise you pull out of her. Your thumb circles her stiff nipple and you feel the familiar shape of her nails on the skin of your back, digging ever so slightly. 

You can’t resist a minute longer, Garofano can practically see your restraint snap in two and she tilts her head to the side preemptively once you withdraw from her mouth. Your teeth on her skin always bring forth the same buzzing sensation in her lower abdomen; you litter marks along her neck, biting and licking everywhere your mouth reaches. The light sting paired with the wet warmth of your tongue as you suck the skin, painting splotches of purple on her body that rival her hair color, arouses her more than anything. The ache between her thighs is almost unbearable. Her clothes make it impossible to get the friction she needs to relieve herself, her hips uselessly grind into your thigh and she lets out a bothered sigh.

“Darling, ah,” she calls out breathlessly; your teeth sink into her collarbone before your tongue wets the spot there, covering her in your saliva, “a little help?”

Her hands leave your back to rake up the fabric of her long skirt up to her hips but are blocked by your thigh between hers. 

“M’not done,” you mumble, kissing the newly made bite marks across her collarbones. 

You absentmindedly pinch her nipple and tweak the erect nub between two fingers. Garofano swallows thickly. Despite her urgent need, she can’t find it in herself to reprimand your one-track mind. It’s cute how focused you are on your task while playing with her breast, relieving the ache of your jaw by nibbling on her like a chew toy. Your lips travel down to her chest and you take a few seconds to take off her ruined shirt and expose the dark bra underneath. The straps are sliding down her shoulders the next instant and the clasp is undone by an expert hand. Once she lies bare beneath you, you resume your ministrations on her chest. The flesh of her breast is soft and pliable, you spend the longest time stimulating her chest with lovebites and quick suckles, your eyes falling shut. Your tongue swirls around her nipple and your hand kneads her neglected breast. Garofano gazes down at your blissful expression as you suck her glistening nipple into your mouth once more, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy. She lifts a hand to the back of your head, a low moan reverberating through her chest. Her skin shines everywhere your tongue has touched and covers her in a soft glow under the bedroom lights. It’s littered with reddish indentations and purple bruises, courtesy of your desire to consume her, but you never go far enough for them to feel unpleasant. You kiss where you want to chew, lick where your molars throb with the instinct to tear and mutter reverent words when you best express yourself through the bite marks your teeth leave behind. Your restraint is commendable, but more than that, it is proof of a long-lasting devotion with her at the very center. 

Your mouth finally abandons her chest and travels to the soft curves of her stomach. With the movement, your thigh no longer stands in the way of Garofano bundling her skirt at the waist. She holds the fabric in place with one hand and spreads her legs enticingly, revelling in your immediate reaction to the sight of her drenched panties. Your fingers dig into her inner thigh, pushing it further apart, and you feel her stretch marks with a caressing hand. 

You tug the waistband of her underwear and glance at the wetness that connects the flimsy material to the slick hairs of her pussy, then lift your eyes to hers. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“I am. Why don’t you do something about it?”

“Mmm…” 

You leisurely drag your index up and down her covered slit, enjoying the sight of her lips emphasized by the pretty fabric. You hear a trembling breath and tilt your head to the right, pondering. 

“What are you waiting for?” Garofano shifts on the bed, brushing some locks out of her face and smiling down at you fondly. “Need some encouragement?”

“I’m just wondering how I want to fuck you. But… a bit of encouragement never hurts.”

“In that case… Be good and make me feel nice, won’t you, my darling?”

You bite your bottom lip in a futile effort to contain your growing smile. A swift movement has her underwear sliding down to her ankles and another  has a thigh resting over your shoulder. You turn your head to mark the warm skin at your disposal, taking your time to pepper bruises all over her inner thighs so that she won’t be able to close her legs without thinking of you. The colors are gorgeous on her, her body is a canvas you paint with your teeth and tongue, adding a few additional shades to the pink flush of her skin. She’s ready for you— has been ready a while ago— but you decide to tease her some more for what she pulled earlier, taunting you like that. Your lips follow a predetermined path towards her slick, aching cunt. Garofano tuts impatiently when you take too long, a quiet sound that amuses you.

“Patience,” you repeat her words from before and lick up a thin string of arousal smeared on her thigh, “I’m enjoying you.”

Her hand on your cheek brings your gaze back to hers and, despite yourself, you lean into the touch. Garofano strokes your face in a way that always has you melting, her thumb gently swiping over your cheek in a soothing pattern. It moves to your mouth and pulls your bottom lip downward. Almost instinctively, you suck the digit into your mouth. The low hum of satisfaction that you earn is enough to make you forget about your previous intentions to edge her. For a suspended moment, you simply look at her.

“You won’t keep me waiting, right?” The sultry and expectant tone of her voice coupled with the evident heat in her eyes make your insides clench. “I need you…” 

Her free hand lowers to her pussy, and she spreads her lips with two manicured fingers, giving you an unobstructed view of her dripping folds. Her thumb slips out of your mouth and wets your lips.

“I need your mouth, my darling,” she continues, a breathiness in her words, “that talented tongue on me. Will you be a good girl for me?”

You nod wordlessly, mind hazy. The lines of her face are more pronounced when she smiles, and you barely tear your eyes away from them as you taste her, tongue slithering up her slit to collect her arousal. You watch her with heavy eyelids while you lap at her like a thirsty kitten. You flick her erect clit with the tip of your tongue a couple of times, and Garofano moans in pleasure, still keeping her pussy lips open for your hungry mouth. The back of her head hits the pillows, her hips chase the sensations you bring her, and her chest falls heavily along every breathy sound that flies out of her mouth. She’s stunning, a sculpture that’s been given the breath of life. Her long locks of hair are like tendrils framing her face, her brows twitch with each pass of your tongue over her cunt, and lower, her nipples sit on her rising chest like precious gemstones. Your mouth waters. You long to suckle on them a bit longer, but that’ll be for later. You wrap your lips around her clit instead and suck, hard and fast. Face pressed to her drenched cunt, your chin and nose are rapidly coated in her essence. She fills your senses; her taste on your tongue, her scent in your nose, the flesh of her thigh beneath your fingers, those raspy, honeyed moans in your ears… She’s everywhere at once. Your world is reduced to her immense presence all around you. She’s not looking at you, her eyes are shut in pleasure. Her hand has turned into a claw on your cheek, her nails carving crescent moons into your skin, and her heel is pressed to your back to keep you against her. She clings to you as she grinds her pussy on your tongue, and you can’t help pushing a finger past her pulsing entrance. It slides in easily, she’s more than wet enough for it. 

“Hah, mmmn,” Garofano’s beautiful sounds above you encourage you to thrust into her at a steady pace. “Yes, just like that…”

You briefly withdraw from her cunt to marvel at how effortlessly your finger disappears inside her wet heat. The squelching noise it makes with each thrust is sinful yet it melds perfectly with her deep lustful moans. Praises fall from her lips like she’s uttered them a thousand times, and perhaps she has, your head spins with need and you forget to count. You slip a second finger into her and don’t let up on her engorged clit, suckling the nub until it twitches on your tongue. Garofano keeps her thighs spread prettily for you, though the muscles flex and relax in succession, a sign of her impending orgasm. Your tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring her over the edge, unrelenting and determined. You recall just how attractive she is when she comes, how her back makes this perfect arc over the bed and her pussy clamps around you, and you curl your fingers inside her cunt to hit the spongy spot that has her eyes rolling back in their socket. She’s so aroused, so wet, it doesn’t take much longer for her to get close to her peak. The pleasure steadily mounts within her, snaking around her guts and squeezing, and she lets you know through drawled out words of encouragement.

“You’re doing so good, darling— I’m so close, don’t stop.”

The assault of sensations is sending shudders through her body. She wantonly bucks into your mouth, chasing her high with no care in the world. You enjoy her the most like this, when she simply takes what she wants without question. She is greedy and you give freely with the burning desire to satiate her. Your fingers pump inside her dripping cunt, your muffled sounds of pleasure vibrate against her folds, and it’s not long before Garofano comes down your throat. Your soaked digits slip out of her and you latch onto her gushing entrance to swallow every drop of cum that that leaks out of her pussy with her powerful orgasm. Her strong thighs press against your ears and you let them, too focused on her tangy taste to do anything more than drink what she gives you. You lap at her a moment longer as she regains her bearings. Her hand lifts to the back of your head and strokes your hair while you clean her up. You look up to see Garofano already gazing at you, warmth etched in her eyes. She catches her breath and returns the easy smile you send her way with a soft chuckle. 

“Come here, sweet girl,” she beckons you closer and you obey instantly, pressing one last kiss over her dark, slick curls before climbing on top of her to reach her face. 

Garofano tenderly cups your cheek. The tip of her nose brushes along the side of yours, then she kisses your cum covered lips and sighs contentedly into your mouth. Her skin is as warm as the embers simmering in your belly. She kisses you sweetly, slowly so as to relish the feel of you against her, and you want more. You want so much more of her— you hunger for more of her taste on your tongue, of her curves under your fingertips, of her mouth on your body. She is there, lying beneath you, open and giving, and it still isn’t enough. Your weight on her is a welcomed one, she sneaks an arm around your waist to trap you on top of her body while she gets her fill of your kiss swollen lips. 

“Mmh, Garo,” you reluctantly pull away to speak, but she chases your mouth and presses some more kisses on it as you talk,” hope you’re not… tired…”

“Oh?” She tilts your chin upwards with two fingers and gives you a dark look. “And why’s that?”

“I’m in a playful mood.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm. I wanna play. And I have just the toy for it.”

Garofano laughs quietly at your raised eyebrows. Her forefinger absentmindedly rubs the cartilage of your earlobe. 

“Well, now I’m curious.”

Your excitement is adorable. A glint appears in your eyes at the thought you planted in her head, and your canines peek just so through your wide smile. Garofano simply observes your features in the low lighting as you ramble about your newest discovery.

“Okay, so, since I can’t actually get you pregnant, I got the next best thing…”

She’ll definitely entertain that thought later. For now, she only holds you close and traces the shape of your ear to commit the feature to muscle memory. In the sanctity of her bedroom and past these colored walls, you belong to each other. She smiles to herself. So precious, so beautiful, and you’re hers. Perhaps some hardships are worth suffering through if they lead to you.

[alottiegoingon]

hc! jackie has a crush on you and she doesn't hide it well.

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: jackie having a painfully obvious crush on you while you remain completely oblivious.

warnings: characters are aged up, oblivious reader, jackie being possessive, jealous, clingy and over-the-top affectionate, jackie being awkwardly sweet, jackie as the most dramatic lesbian alive, not proofread.

a.n: oh hi! its been a long time...

jackie taylor, the golden girl of wiskayok high, was not known for being subtle. like, at all.

when she developed a crush on you? game over. everyone could tell. the team knew. her parents probably knew. heck, even the cafeteria staff were rooting for her. everyone... except you.

she would insist on walking you to every single class, even if her next one was on the other side of the building. "it's fine, I need the cardio," she’d say, hair bouncing as she kept pace with you.

whenever you sat together at lunch, jackie always had some excuse to sit as close as humanly possible. your thighs would brush, and she’d casually drape an arm behind you on the bench like this was some romcom where she was the suave lead.

her attempts at giving you compliments were both endearing and slightly chaotic. “that shirt looks really good on you! not that it wouldn’t look good off— wait, no, not like that!” cue her face turning an alarming shade of red as she stammered, completely flustered.

jackie was all about grand gestures. she'd bring you your favorite snacks without asking, even if it meant "borrowing" them from her teammates' lockers. r she'd "accidentally" sign you up as her partner for every school project ever. that was probably just her 'marking territory'.

her jealousy was comically bad. if someone so much as looked at you for longer than five seconds, jackie would swoop in like a hawk, throwing an arm around your shoulders and flashing her biggest, most obviously fake smile. "Oh hey, let’s go! you promised to help me with... uh, math homework!” (she had a solid A in math, by the way. that girl is smart.)

sometimes, her crush got the better of her, and she’d trip over her own words. “so... you wanna make out? i mean go out— I mean, hang out? like friends! or more than friends! or—" you’d just laugh it off, assuming she was being her usual goofy self, while she tried not to combust on the spot.

her teammates would not let her hear the end of it. “just tell her already!” van would groan during practice. “she’s not that clueless.” jackie would shoot them a death glare because, in her mind, this was a delicate, slow-burn process. it's all about romance!

she wasn’t above using petnames to test the waters. “hey, sweetheart, pass me that notebook?” she’d grin when you handed it over, your only response being a confused, “uh, sure?” her heart would leap even at that small acknowledgment.

one time, during a party, someone asked if you two were dating. jackie nearly choked on her drink while you laughed and said, “no way, we’re just friends!” jackie’s forced laugh after that? absolutely tragic.

despite all her awkwardness and dramatic flair, jackie genuinely adored you. she’d memorize all your quirks, from the way you scrunched your nose when you were deep in thought to how your laugh sounded when you found something genuinely funny.

if anyone asked her why she liked you so much, she’d have an entire list ready: you were smart, kind, gorgeous, and somehow still completely oblivious to the fact that she was hopelessly in love with you.

spoiler alert: eventually, her feelings would spill out in the most unplanned, dramatic way possible. probably during an argument where she’d blurt out, “because I like you, okay?!” only to immediately cover her mouth in horror.

and even though you’d be stunned into silence for a moment, when you finally smiled and said, “you should’ve just said so sooner,” all her embarrassment would melt away in an instant.

because, honestly? it was all worth it for you.

post planecrash!

after the crash, jackie’s crush intensifies tenfold. with no distractions like school or soccer, all her attention is on you, which becomes very obvious to everyone.

jackie insists on sticking close to you at all times. “we need to stay in pairs, it’s safer that way,” she’d argue, even though it’s clear she just wants to keep you within arm’s reach.

she’d hoard little things she finds that might make your life easier, like an extra blanket or berries she foraged. she’d always frame it like it’s no big deal: “i just thought you’d want this, that’s all.”

jealous jackie? oh, it’s dialed up to 100. if someone else offers to help you with something, jackie will immediately swoop in. “she doesn’t need your help, i’ve got it covered.” even though she could barely lift a bucket of water.

arguments would break out among the group about leadership and survival, but jackie’s main concern? you. she’d constantly check in on you, asking if you’re warm enough, if you’ve eaten, or if you’re scared.

shauna would initially try to protect jackie’s secret, but even she’d get tired of the whole thing. “jackie, just tell her. you’re already risking frostbite just to sit next to her by the fire.”

during the long, cold nights, jackie would find excuses to be near you. “body heat is the best way to stay warm,” she’d say, but the blush on her cheeks would give her away. that damn fag. (affectionate :D)

if you ever got hurt or sick, jackie would lose her mind. she’d hover over you like a worried mother hen, snapping at anyone who wasn’t taking your condition seriously enough. “she needs rest! and better food! and-” you’d have to calm her down before she worked herself into a frenzy.

and even though the wilderness is brutal and unforgiving, in that moment, her confession would feel like the warmest thing in the world.

[bonefall]

Prev naming the foster kit disco really fits considering she can't sit still, maybe you should incorporate that into discopaw's personality

Discopaw is coming easy to me! She does fit the personality of the kitten quite a bit, with a few differences.

I want to make sure Discopaw doesn't take up too much "screentime" that other characters could get, so I plan for her to consistently be in the background of conflicts

A voice shouted in a Gathering argument, one of Deerfoot's rebels, seen tangling ferociously with a bigger warrior in battle, etc!

In every way, she's perpetually sanguine. She has a zest for life. Discopaw loves to dance, join chants, sing loudly and play games.

That's based on her canonical appearance, shouting for Ravenpaw to tell his battle story. She's definitely a Gathering friend of his.

(Thinking about it, I should give her a line where she asks Fire about where Ravenpaw is at a Gathering. Good way to sneak in exposition/recap in book 2, that he feels sad that he needs to lie to her about his death to keep his friend safe. Especially when she takes the news pretty rough.)

So being "unable to sit still" is very fitting. Background character who would casually be changing places, vanishing from crowd shots in between camera pans.

Since I need to pad out some mass death events in ShadowClan, she's going to go down in one. She's a "high priority" kill since she's a Glitch Warrior, but I am hoping to get her to survive TPB at least.

So probably Yellowcough at the latest.

Also, I'm unsure who her mentor is. Deerfoot is an obvious choice, though I'm unsure if Brokenstar would want to reward him as one of his major critics. Russetfur is who I'm leaning towards right now.

Or maybe even have her old mentor be one of the cats driven out with Brokenstar, such as Tangleburr, and Nightstar reassigns her. Something like that.