#TRYING REALLY HARD TO MAKE SURE THIS IS BLACKLISTABLE

[necirusalka]

fellas is it yuri for two women to die together because one followed the other into the very bowels of the earth on a doomed mission to protect her, despite knowing she would lose herself to the virus assimilating her into its hivemind. is it yuri to put your life in someone else's hands knowing she's not really herself anymore, and still be unable to pull the trigger until it's too late. is it yuri to accompany one another to hell. to protect each other until you can't any longer. to consume and be consumed

[cicidraws]

im not well.

[nanamiskentos]

★ ☄️🪽 ARMAGEDDON ! jujutsu kaisen. 呪術廻戦.

prologue ⋆ ★ what if gojo satoru was the king of curses? or nanami kento, the suave n' disdainful cult leader? ryomen sukuna, the strongest at jujutsu tech? welcome to alternate reality jujutsu kaisen.

pairings ⋆ ★ gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab/she+her!reader, fíngering (f), metaphysical séx, reader is called 'whóre', the most incorrect use of unlimited void ever, óral (m), consensual éxhibitiónism/voyéurísm (nanami), mentions of violence, wall séx, hate séx (choso), jealous séx, car séx (toji), ríding him to tears, córruption kink, overstím, angry séx, lore swaps in a way that would make shonen jump blacklist me forever

word count ⋆ ★ 5.1k a/n ⋆ ★ been teasing this since november last year and i lost motivation and forced myself to pick it back up and get it togetherrr 😭 my formal apologies extended to gege

GOJO SATORU ៹. the king of curses

"i h-hate you, i really, really do!" funny, isn't it? how the words that fall from your kiss-stung lips don't quite match at how you're writhing and squirming in the lap of a being that could easily snap you in two, should he so wished.

clearly, gojo satoru seems to find you, his vessel, just as amusing, for he thinks he's grown rather used to your antics. to the way that you claim to detest him, and that you'll never entertain his offers ever again. and yet here you are, always crawling back to the king of curses when the long hours of the night don't allow you to rest.

"that's possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," gojo coos, chiming sweetly while two fingers work their way through your insides, crooking and curling to find your sweet spot. sighing as though he wasn't affected by your bare form, draped across his throne, "you know what i really admire about you? your unshakeable principles. how you say that you just can't stand me, heh, and yet, always beggin' like a whore for me."

"fuck, gojo, r-right there, –" eyes rolling to the back of your head, revealing the whites, as translucent gloss practically drips down one of the demon's four hands.

"yes, yes," gojo mutters, "i'll get to that, jus' gotta' be patient." luckily, your back is pressed against his bare chest, the muscles and flesh littered with bold, ivory markings. the very edges of ice-kissed hair tickling at your cheek as sharp fangs sink into the shell of your ear, almost tender.

each push and pull of gojo's slender, sturdy fingers between your swollen folds leaves a resounding pop! that echoes through this...well, you're not quite sure where you are. all you know is that, as gojo satoru's vessel, you're prone to sharing his domain — particularly when you're trying to sleep. frankly, you should be a little more concerned about the frequency of these metaphysical meetings, but it's hard to think of little else but how his fingers are so thick, hitting all the right spots in you.

"hey, have i ever told ya' about unlimited void?" gojo suddenly murmurs, jostling right over the nasty bulge that the king of curses packs beneath those loose robes. you tiredly droop your head back, too busy rolling your hips, so close to that dear climax that you've been chasing ever since your soul popped up in gojo's throne room. your eyes meet four blue irises, each one cunning and sharp.

"is t-this really the time for a, hah, a lesson?" you scowl, feeling gojo stiffen and curse underneath you when your pretty cunt sets a steady rhythm over his clothed shaft, "you were no help earlier today, y'know that, right? when that c-curse was –"

gojo nips at your neck, those strands of snowy hair kissing your neck once more, "you were doing just fine without me, always got somethin' to complain about, don't you, eh?" lifting your hips to hiss at the arousal that's leaking out from underneath you, pooling in his wide lap. muttering something about how a human and a lowly vessel like you should be honoured to receive a teaching from the incarnated king of curses, "now pay attention, 'cause i'm not gonna' be repeating myself. 's about t-time you learnt more about this domain."

bleary eyes cracking open to try and capture the sight of a floorless throne room, as though the night sky had been captured to form the base, flickering often as a starless, yet stormy sky, "i k-know unlimited void," you whine, "always showin' off in my head 'bout it," seething as gojo stills his fingers inside you, tutting as he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck.

two beefy arms still hold you aloft, while one has fingers buried within your cunt, and the fourth? deft, rough pads of his fingers begin rubbing soothing, tight circles over your clit, rendering most of your mind to mush, "not just a realm, sweetheart. heh, guess you could say it's a curse. at least for anyone foolish enough to find themselves trapped there –," patting your thighs gently, "present company excluded, of course."

resuming his gentle, punishing pace once more, still curling upwards where he's most eager to reach, that special spot that will see you falling apart so beautifully, "see, when most lesser beings enter, it's like – mhmm, how should i put this?" gojo's musing, voice curling melodiously behind you, slapping away your eager hand that reaches for his cock, "not yet, where was i? well, unlimited void stretches one's mind, traps ya' in an endless sea of information. trust me, yer' gonna' know every atom and particle out there."

"ah, gojo!" lashes fluttering with crystal tears that pull at the corners of your eyes, for he's hit the arrowhead right on the mark, right where your climax is poised to wash over you any second now.

but gojo's ignoring your needy cries, two fingers flexing so tense against your gummy, sticky walls, "so the mind can't really handle unlimited void, and most are just...shut down. but only when i activate it, does that make sense?" he's musing, not waiting for your answer, "yeah, it does, hah. but we are not most lesser beings, right?"

you're not even sure what on earth he's going on about, desperate to chase the orgasm that teases you, licks flames at your groin, "n-no, we're not, fuck, gojo, 'm so –"

"close?" gojo chuckles darkly, and you should have known. truly, you should have guessed that he would have never been so generous with your pleasure if he wasn't planning something. for just as you ripple with the dazed pleasure, you can feel gojo crook one finger in you, one behind the other, curling the digits just so he can mutter something you only catch when it's too late.

"unlimited void."

what follows next is earth-shattering, for you feel as though its the ultimate surrender to the king of curses, where time and space, and thought all blend together into something overwhelming perfect, rather than suffocating. your lips part, soundless as a silent cry is ripped from you, your thighs quivering atop gojo satoru's muscular lap, release absolutely spraying and gushing out from your swollen, eager folds.

you've never had a release that's quite so...clear and inviting, and you can hear gojo's amused, aroused laugh against your back, and if you didn't know better, you would assume that the king of curses is running pale claws through your hair, letting you ride out the crystalline wave of your orgasm.

"hahh, oh my – oh my god, satoru," you're probably babbling, clinging and creating a bigger mess over gojo, who just narrows all four eyes, tipped with white, long lashes. he's smiling, as though he knows something that you don't, and he looks almost pleased, "should we continue the next lesson tomorrow night?"

NANAMI KENTO ៹. the cult leader

you should have known better, you really should have been a bit smarter about all this, about flouncing into the hall where nanami had been holding court, or rather, cult. for the mats had been set up the previous day for the wealthiest benefactors to come and see the great, golden man in the flesh.

and you doubt your husband had been...pleased, when you had poked your head past the great sliding doors, clad in nothing but an open robe in swathes of rippling navy. so all those who turned their head would have caught sight of nanami kento's beautiful wife, nipples pebbled in the cool air, drawing their line of sight to the apex of your thighs. so, that's how you found yourself here, lips pursed around the fat head of the cult leader's shaft.

"she's doin' so well, isn't she?" nanami intones, gentle hand guiding the nape of your neck, loving even. well, he always was, despite the games that the two of you played. the show that he was always eager to put on, hazel eyes gazing over the gaping maws of the benefactors who could only watch, shifting on their mats as you lifted your head up with a pop!

he's chuckling to himself, running a limp hand through thick waves of amber hair, "heh, 's okay. no-one needs speak, i need to be hearing her properly." her being the slick sounds echoing from the hollows of your mouth, the lips that you used to press creamy kisses onto his cock.

"doing, mmph – doing good?" you mumble, that heavy slurp! of your tongue against the broad underside of his cock sending him to heaven and back. he's adjusting his glasses, guiding a shaky hand to the base of his cock, where golden curls coil thickly, slowly sliding his member from your pretty mouth. smearing your waiting lips with the translucent smears of pre that you've pulled from him.

"the best," nanami assures you, patting at his thick, muscular thighs for you to lay your head, "and t-they all think so too, i bet." he can see the gleam in your eyes, knows that you're enjoying this just as much as he is.

wondering at all the creative ways that he can take you right after this, perhaps splayed out on his lap for all to see, back against the teal robes snug on his chest, so the benefactors can see his cock slide between the fat folds of your cunt. tempting.

you're pursing your lips once more, wiping a stray, clingy strand of nanami's arousal from your chin, before diving back to the head task at hand. each wet, sloppy sound of your glistening lips against the fat, blushed tip of his cock has nanami's thighs shaking, quivering. determined not to whine and lose composure in front of the men who fork over billions of yen to his...temple each month.

but it's your hands that are the most dangerous, nanami concludes, for while you flatten your tongue against his tip, your fist tightens around the base of his cock, teasing gentle fingers against the folds of skin right underneath, and his mind goes absolutely blank.

shooting ropes after ropes of thick, buttery release against your lips. watching with glimmering, hazy eyes as your fingers catch the droplets of his release, reaching in between your thighs to slicken your cunt further with his climax, god, nanami truly thinks he's going to burst.

there's a faint, muffled groan from someone in the audience, and he can see the pitying, disapproving look in your eyes. for someone's broken the golden rule of silence, and well, the whole room is gonna' pay for that now. and miss out on a truly magnificent show, he'd wager. what a shame, but no big loss. he's truly extracted whatever funds they had, so these men are of no use to him now.

he gently runs slender fingers over your chin, dipping at the plush flesh of your lower lip, helping you up, "come, my love. i don't want you seeing this," pulling your open robes tighter across your heated flesh, he's guiding you to the door, past the rows of slack-jawed men. nanami kento certainly doesn't want the love of his life hearing the sounds of errant curses ripping flesh apart.

CHOSO KAMO ៹. the assassin

you not really sure what's stopping you from plunging the tip of a blade into the throbbing veins that bulge against choso kamo's neck. it would be so easy, and well, it would be fair too. you could claim self-defence too, for had the sorcerer killer not arrived to take your life?

but fate has a funny way of doing things, for there's a hazy smile playing across your lips, fingers twisting into loose strands of dark hair that fall to choso's shoulders, gasping as he rickets his hips into you, greedy as his cock drills you against the damp alley-wall.

"you're not t-that good at y'job, are ya'?" you're teasing, gasping as you can feel every inch of choso's thick shaft pressing disorderly pecks against your cervix, deeper than you really thought possible. and god, the assassin looks ruined. how ironic that you were the one who took him out instead, with nary a weapon but the one that he loved between your thighs.

the taller man's groaning, amber eyes misty, squeezing shut as dark lashes flutter across pale, blotchy skin like brush strokes on an oil canvas. "s'good, oh, f-fuck," choso's lips bloom a pretty shade of bruised pink, "yer' killing me, baby."

he's jerking his head back, partly from the sheer pleasure running through his veins, and partly due to your nails bestowing a harsher, tighter tug to the back of his head. it's got him sheepishly giggling, utterly pussydrunk on you, "sorry, bad choice of words, huh?"

whatever retort was blooming on your open lips falls apart when you feel the cherry head of choso's cock punch at you, pistoning slick smears of pre against your sweet spot, hot and heavy. he's filling you up in the most delicious way imaginable, and you take the moment to run your hands over his back. over the tight top that clings to his build like a second skin, melded into the ashen pallor of his bulging upper arms.

choso's effortlessly got you poised on one arm, jostling and cursing as his fingers loop around thick, coiled chains dangling from the spear strapped to his back. he's fumbling for a split second, throwing the weapon on the ground with little care, all so he can hold you better. cold fingers pressing against your mouth, a waiting command for you to wrap your tongue around the tip of his finger. tasting yourself, from when you had first guided his hand to the apex of your thighs.

"c-close?" choso murmurs, questioning and chasing after your lolling tongue, looking equally wrecked, as he slams the very last of his inches into you. bottoming out with a thick, sticky pop! the final push has him hitting the perfect spot to make you writhe and squirm. sealing him into a kiss this time to muffle the whine that threatens to erupt from you.

knowing that that choso's got you pinned to the wall of an alley in one of the most run-down districts of the city, where none travel save for ill intentions, and yet, anyone could still turn the corner and see exactly where the base of choso's cock meets your hips in clingy slaps of arousal and pre swirled up together.

"the f-first time i've never been able to finish the job, heh," choso muses, his tone almost gentle despite the mean way that he's delving into your walls, "don't think i can face m'boss after this, tch', o-ouh, fuck," choso's leaning into the crook of your neck, sinking pointed canines into soft skin. leaving marks that will surely bruise and bloom in shades of deep violet, when he separates his tacking, syrupy lips from the juncture of your swan-arch.

you groan, unabashed, when choso stills for a second and bestows you with a heady kiss, all before plunging right back in to you, "who would have thought i would be the o-one to bring the sorcerer killer to his k-knees?"

choso's giving you a half-lidded, lazy look, flushing a brilliant shade of blossom-pink, as though he's got all the time in the world, smoothly dragging his hand down further until its patting at your mound, "p-patience, i'll give ya', that too."

TOJI FUSHIGURO ៹. the office worker

"oh, it's you." that was your disappointed, flat intone when toji fushiguro pushed through the elevator doors after you, earlier that day. the man was the office's terminal underachiever, barely even showing up on the clock, but it was hard to complain when he proved such a delicious sight for the eyes in a rumpled black dress-shirt, rolled up to reveal glorious thick forearms dusted with faint, dark hair.

"oh, it's t-too big, toji!" and that's how you somehow ended up, practically pressed flat into the most brutal, nasty mating press in the backseat of your car. toji's large hands splayed across your thighs, legs achingly hooked over his bent form — but the ache between your legs was far more pleasurable. glossy strands of slick snapping and clinging to your skin where his thighs snapped against yours, steady at a pace that wouldn't rattle your isolated car too much in the basement lot.

"didn't think i was gon' show up today, doll?" toji groans, slowly bucking his sharp hips forward so every inch of his cock explores the walls of your pretty, pretty pussy. "that's why y'were flirtin' with that stupid –" the man's muffling back a heavy moan, "that stupid worker on the s-second floor?"

you're not quite sure how toji manages to do it. defying the laws of physics and matter to somehow reach in between the two of you, to slap around the treacly mess gathered at your pressed groins. toji's circling your throbbing clit in faux pity, all as you heave, "you're jealous? t-that's what this is, hah?"

toji's jade, sharp eyes narrow as though he's hesitant to put a name to the emotion, settling to roll and pinch at your swollen bud, hoping that you can feel every vein and fold of skin rummaging through your syrupy cunt, "n-no." but the quake in his voice gives him so brutally away, and it has you grinning. pulling toji fushiguro down for a clash of your lips against his, so that rough scar brushes against your skin, twitching almost as though toji's smiling into the kiss. what a bastard, you hate how he's ensnared you.

you hiss, pulling at soft, silky strands of raven hair, "keep it down, fushiguro –" heart racing with every ricketing motion of your poor car, swaying back and forth, tucked away in this dim little corner of the office basement lot, "s-someone could see, could fire us, hnghh', b-both."

it's clear that toji fushiguro doesn't quite share your concerns, that shark-like grin beaming in brilliant ivory, nipping at your neck, tugging the corners of your blouse with his teeth, "someone, as in – fuck, ya' got a killer grip, doll. someone, like that fucker on the second floor?"

you roll drenched hips further into toji's abdomen, feeling dark hairs tickled at the very lowest base of your own groin, "if ya' wanna be exclusive, t-toji, just say so." head thrown back for toji to bestow heated kisses all along the expanse of bared skin, tossing your employee lanyard aside.

toji punctuates his answer with a sharp tack of his hips against your clit, "yeah. exclusive, you n' me, doll." the burly man must be close for he's flushing, babbling at you as though you're undoing every stitch holding his slacks (and sanity) together, "i'd do a-anything. clean up my act for ya', show up every day jus' to see that pretty fuckin' face."

your own hazy, shaking climax washes over you, just as toji stills, pumping rope after rope of translucent, creamy cum right into you. creating an awful, sticky mess that leaves you writhing, panting toji's name into his open mouth, "do all that, f-fushiguro, and y'can have me in any way you want."

GETO SUGURU ៹. the death painting

"please," the half-curse is whining now, prattling as you run hands over the dark, cotton robes that envelop him, "dunno' what this is, but it feels so –"

you're cooing, pressing soft and slick kisses to the corner of geto's pink mouth, "feels good, suguru? i guess you could say, hmm," running nails through the dark, silky strands of the death painting's hair, "you could say it's pleasurable, right?"

geto's nodding, adam's apple bobbing as his peach-fine features flush the most beautiful shade of crimson. looking nothing like the hardened warrior with an arsenal of special-grade curses, those of his own blood, at his side. he looks positively ruined, and you can feel the curve of his bulge underneath your teasing hands, running softly over the clothed shaft in the most innocuous way possible.

"can you, ouh –" geto stutters when your lips press a searing kiss into the throbbing vein on his creamy neck, where his shaky pulse jumps in staccato, "touch it? feels s-so good, love."

you're batting your lashes, tilting your head as though you have no idea about the effect you hold over the half-curse, "what? touch, oh!" slipping your hand past the band of his loose pants, underneath the deep violet fabric cinched at his waist, "here?"

resting your hand against the very base of his abdomen, right above where he craves you most. geto's bucking his hips up desperately, hoping that you'll get the hint and move past where you've hovering, right over a thatch of raven-curls.

you thinly smile, feeling the heat of his skin sear into you, before you've even touched his muscular, broad thighs. to think that you've got quite the warrior begging underneath you, well, it's got your own thighs damply clenched together. but that's a lesson for another day, for today, you want to see geto suguru gasping in your hold.

"hmm, suguru, y'know you've gotta' be a bit more specific," your nails run dangerously against his shaft, and you won't admit this to him yet, but the sheer length is making you gulp. all before you've even laid eyes on the magnificent inches that he's packing away underneath his robes, "do y'trust me, sugu'?"

geto nods, quickly and sharply, already shivering from your touch, "of c-course, 'course, i trust you." and the admission makes your pussy flutter, the idea of having this girth packed in you, drilling into you until the two of you see stars.

you press another gentle kiss to the corner of his lips again, reaching up to free his hair from the clingy knot resting on the back of his head. marvelling as ink-dark hair pools in sleek swathes, falling to his waist, giggling as geto chases after your lips, "hah, 'm gonna make you feel so good, baby."

you gently tug his robes to the side, revealing an expanse of chiselled skin, and clear-cut muscle. giving geto a coy look as you pull out his weighty, hot shaft, searing in your hands. it's just as pretty and big as he is, crowned with an angry-red head that seems to throb and pulse in your grasp.

"fuck," geto gasps, already looking drunken from your touch, "keep doing t-that, don't stop that, please." he's addicted to the way that your fist starts gently pumping him, slowly applying more pressure as you move from base to tip. dipping your tongue to taste the first, clear drops of pre that have already escaped.

you clearly didn't account for the physiology of those with cursed blood in their veins, for geto's already making a mess. you're certain that barely no time has passed at all, but there's already slick, gooey strands painting your hand. creating loud squelches as you roll your fist, thumb pausing to flit at his weeping slit.

"hey, suguru," you're murmuring, experimentally parting your lips over his bulging tip, "what would happen if i –"

you get your answer when you're barely enveloped his shaft, thick wads of stringy cum exploding out in glossy torrents, painting your chin in slow, clingy drips of geto's seed. geto, who's twitching and flushed in your hold, ears beaming red as he gnaws at his lower lip, "baby, you shoulda', fuck, should have warned me." pausing to give you a shy look, "wanna' try again?"

RYOMEN SUKUNA ៹. the strongest

"what the fuck was that?" you've never quite seen sukuna like this, this furious. this loss of composure just didn't quite suit ryomen sukuna, the strongest sorcerer that walks the earth in this day and age (though, rumours say that he may even hold a candle against gojo satoru, the famed king of curses).

over a decade you've known the gruff man, graduated alongside him, worked and fought alongside him at jujutsu tech, and yet you've never, ever seen sukuna as he is now. not even when itadori yuuji broke his favourite mug before class.

he's blinking crimson eyes in some sorta' haze, dark lashes fluttering as his mouth hovers an inch away from yours. you're not sure what sort of lecture this is, but the throbbing in your groin is a dead giveaway that you don't mind.

a large hand is resting on the nape of your neck, as though sukuna's not sure whether to pull you away or towards him, numerous silver piercing clinking as he shakes his head, "what did i say to ya' earlier, hmm?"

"erm..." no, not your best work.

but it's truly hard to focus when sukuna looks this good, painted in the evening light that filters through the window of the abandoned classroom, long after the students have retired. toned, deceptively fierce arms pushing against the navy jujutsu uniform, rose-pink hair mussed — no thanks to that special grade that was giving the two of you a hard time not so long ago.

he's pushing closer against you, and you're catching that scent, intoxicating and heady, "wasn't a rhetorical question, woman. didn't i tell ya' one important thing?"

you realise how easy it would be to wrap a leg around his slender waist, to pull the tall man in against the two of you were pressed flat against the desk but you tamp the lecherous thoughts down, time and place, yeah? "you said...," you falter, wandering if it's worth tilting your head to brush your lips against the man, "y'said not to get in the way."

sukuna's long fingers are curling at the shell of your ear, running over a stray strand of hair that's come undone in the earlier scuffle, "mhm, good girl. and what did ya' do, then? when i was busy using dismantle n' cleave?"

you sigh, already feeling sukuna's temper roll off him in waves, "yes, i got in the way," intoning flatly, looking anywhere but the concentric rings in sukuna's eyes, "look, if you're gonna' chew me out, can you make it quick? i ended up you helpin' anyway, and i dunno' why you're so pressed about –"

sukuna presses his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up in a kiss that leaves you whimpering, moaning at the desire (and something else that you know sukuna's gonna have a hard time naming) that erupts. bruising lips meeting yours with a fierce urgency, teeth scraping, and hands pulling your own uniform to the side, as though sukuna may lay down his life if he doesn't get to feel you this close to him.

sukuna's muffling something into the kiss, calling you senseless (well, hey! not true) and oblivious (maybe) and gorgeous (true enough, that's fair). you're not sure when his large, tattooed hand managed to pry its way up to your thighs, but you gasp at the feeling of your suddenly drenched panties being torn off with little bravado. sukuna's grinning, all sharp fangs, as he tucks them away into his uniform pocket.

"fuck me." you're groaning, gasping at his thumb hooks over your clit, rubbing hot, tight circles into your most sensitive spot. you're not sure if it's exasperation or a plea colouring your words, but sukuna seems pleased, quirking a brow, "yeah? that's what you want? think it'll get ya' off the hook?"

"please fuck me," you correct yourself, reaching for the metal buckle at sukuna's hips, fulfilling that vision of hooking sukuna in. rocking him closer to your bare, dripping core so he can align his fat, heavy tip against your glistening entrance.

your eyes flit down to the very base of his cocks, where coarse, pink hair teases your flesh, and — oh. sukuna's tracking your line of sight, flushing when he sees your eyes widen, taking in the dark, tattooed ring encircling the base of his shaft.

"don't ask," sukuna grunts, ears flaming red as you giggle, nipping at your ear, "hold on f'me now, can ya' follow that instruction, at least?" the man truly thinks he may lose it, right then and there, watching how your puffy folds bulge around the head of his cock. how it's you, the woman that he's been in love with for ten years, giving him a dazed, lopsided smile when he finally, finally slides it in.

"fuuuck," sukuna groans, pale-pink hair tickling at your forehead as he leans in, "yer' taking me well, heh. not too big for ya'?" he's grinning, even when you swat a droopy hand at him, clenching hard around his girth, "don't flatter yourself."

but it's only when he starts rocking his hips back and forth, imprinting his cock right against your walls, that sukuna begins to lose his mind, losing all sense of other duties and responsibilities. thoughts of the report that he has to submit to the fuckass higher ups, the quizzes he has to grade for the dumb, little first years, oh god, the bills he has to pay. poof! gone, vanquished by the sticky-sweet hold of your intoxicating cunt.

"wanted this for sooo long, woman," sukuna grunts, "you got no idea, wanted you," he punctuates his words with a sharp tack of his hips, "only you. always you, only one for me, heh. i'd take out anyone who says otherwise." and your sweet, pretty whimpers in his ear only make him all the more desperate, ready to slam bullseye on that sweet spot. thank god, classes are over for the day and the campus is empty, for he's got you allll to himself now.

[casuallyanidiot]

can you please do a surgeon reader with pathetic rich yandere? please and thank you for making so many good fics!

Thanks for the support!

Ooooh a needy, clingy, Yandere patient.... I like your thinking anon.

Tw. For self harm mention

Yandere patient grew up as a rich, spoiled kid with plenty of daddy's money and not enough spine. He's never had someone care about him if it wasn't for his money, even his parents don't really seem to love him beyond the basic obligations of making sure he wasn't dead or feral. His friends are all assholes who are also rich, university students that only seem to like him when he's drinking past the point of passing out, or when he buys them fancy dinners and meals as gifts. He knows that they are just leeches, but he doesn't have anyone else.

Yandere patient who gets pressured into doing a stupid stunt. He was drunk at the time, so he doesn't really remember much about what exactly he did, but he knew what happened afterwards: Broken legs, a spinal injury, a shattered wrist, and 15 stitches on his cherub like face.

You're assigned to be his surgeon, as it turns out. You tell him that since his injuries are so severe, he'll need to have multiple surgeries and come in frequently to ensure he's healed.

He understands, though a bit weary and exhausted.

Through the period of time that's he's kept in the hospital, you notice how no one ever comes to visit him. Yandere patient becomes withdrawn and almost a bit despondent, and you knew you needed to do something. He wont recover if his mentality isn't there, after all.

You spend a lot of time comforting him, spending time with him later in the evenings before you go home, and you chat with him for brief periods of the day.

Yandere patient feels the most affection he's ever received while bedridden in your care. He knows that for once, it's not just about money. Yes, this is your job, but he knows for a fact that you pay more attention to him than you would some of your other charges.

Yandere patient decides to move himself into the hospital until he recovers. There's not real point in being locked away in his gloomy yet opulent room, tucked away in some countryside manor. No, he'd rather be here with you so that he may relish in your constant doting. You are a bit hesitant when he tells you the news with such a bright, beaming face. You don't want to hurt the poor man's feelings since he's been through so much already, but you'd rather prefer to see him getting out a bit more and trying his hand at socializing. Still, you don't press him too much on the issue.

Yandere patient who realizes that whenever he makes a bit too much progress, you distance yourself ever so slightly. It gives him pause, and it makes his heart race in a not good way. He can't have you leaving him. Not when he's already begun to rely on you so much.

Yandere patient who messes up his stitches constantly. He looks up at you with big, watery eyes when you find him covered in his own blood. He feigns his clumsiness, but he can't help the pleasurable shudder that runs up his damaged spine whenever you fret over him.

Yandere patient who starts to try to make you move into one of the many family manors he resides in. He'll pay you an extraordinary amount if you'll let him be your only patient. Plus, it's in the countryside! Fresh air, beautiful gardens, privacy: What more could you want?!

He tries so hard to sell you on it, but you don't budge. He pouts like a child for a while afterwards, though soon he's back to his usually smiling self.

He's figured it out. He doesn't have to ask you! A simple multi million dollar bribe to the hospital here, a scheme to blacklist you there, and soon you'll be happy to only have eyes for him!

Yandere Patient is practically beaming when you show up to his estate, bags in hand. The money, the pain, the isolation... all of it was just a small price to pay for you to never leave his side again.

[accio-victuuri]

THANK YOU, FILMMAKER WANG YIBO… 💕🫶🏼

this is a sort of recap post for the huabiao awards and basically a post to celebrate yibo and the amazing actor that he is. i know that we all have mixed feelings about this, and every other nomination that he didn’t win, but it’s important to go back to why we are here and support him. it’s because he is yibo and his works do not disappoint both the fans and the general audience. we already won when we watched those films — whenever that was for you.

we were all holding our breath if he will make it to the red carpet, sadly, he didn’t. that actually went on hs. his schedule was already so tight with the race and flying to qingdao. thankfully, his team took some excellent photos of him and with all the racer 85 related props 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

then as soon as he sat down, he was a bit late to the ceremony too, the host cued him and mentioned his name. he stood up and bowed to the audience. i love the cheers for him!

the award for outstanding actor was early, i guess all of us got nervous and hopeful that he will get it. he didn’t but he was so gracious. he was nodding and clapping. the tag on hs for him is how you can’t lipread what he’s saying. some are guessing that he said that it’s not easy, meaning it’s not easy to win it. and considering he was up against zhang yi, it makes sense.

you probably read about how hard it is to get nominated for this category. this award is given every 2 years. no distinction between supporting and main actor and there are only 2 nominees. just imagine all the eligible movies and actors — but still, yibo was chosen. he is the first post 90s actor to get nominated. and this is technically, within his first year of being a movie actor and releasing his works.

i have no bad blood with zhang yi. he is a well loved actor and what a coincidence that they both posted about each other’s movie before, and now, they ended up being nominated side by side.

yibo recognizes excellence. if anything, i’m sure this makes him want to strive more to be on that level. i’m trying hard to not quote timothee chalamet’s SAG speech here but it fits so well — “ i know we’re in a subjective business, but the truth is I’m really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don’t usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats.” and he is on his way to becoming one of the greats. it’s a privilege to watch him grow into that, and i hope we all stay on for years to come and see it happen.

the surprise was how he was actually gonna be onstage. not only that, he was there with zhang ziyi and jackie chan to give a tribute to Chinese Cinema. it makes me proud to see him be the representative of the young generation. because he really is. and he doesn’t even need to pretend and perform to be that — he already is. it comes natural to him.

overall, he was in a good mood. why wouldn’t he? he is attending an event celebrating the movies he worked hard for. tho my favorite is when he smiled like a kid after he presented on stage and how he was interacting with his seat mates — especially Ma Li.

lastly, i’ll talk about some pre-awards chatter. weeks before, people were talking about if yibo would go or not. moreso, if he will be nominated. it’s so ironic cause his antis were babbling about how people that are not invited are blacklisted cause it’s the 120th anniversary celebration. but lo and behold — not only is he attending. all the films he participated in are nominated. he is nominated as best actor. and during the broadcast, he went onstage with jackie chan and zhang ziyi. 😂😂😂😂

it’s the usual song and dance. it’s yibo’s favorite past time. proving his haters wrong.

same thing with them saying he is “banned” because it’s been a while since his last movie project - mermaid. clearly not. tonight’s program showed how he is the movie darling. he is just doing what he said he will be in his past interview, that he wants to experience the world to be able to be better in his craft. i couldn’t get that out of my head when he said it and that explains all his decisions. he is gonna be so selective with his next movie project and i’m excited what he picks next! he’s always had an excellent intuition of what roles will work well and challenge him. the rest can breathe for a while cause he is not coming for their wigs — yet. lol. i have a feeling that as soon as mermaid is out, he is gonna raise the bar again. we just have to wait patiently.

anyway, that’s all. the road ahead is long and we will continue to accompany actor wang yibo! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Predetermined.

Written for the very lovely @mars-syndrome.

Pairing: Yandere!Azul x Reader (Twisted Wonderland).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Non///Con, Tentacle Sex, Unprotected Sex, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Long-Term Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

For everyone except you, the Monsto Lounge closed at ten.

It was an unofficial rule. Octavinelle freshmen would try to turn you away, but it was a mistake the Leech twins made sure to correct by the next morning, and everyone who’d ever worked more than a shift at the lounge knew better than to kick you out at the end of the night. That was why you were allowed to get away with something Azul would usually blacklist a customer for – staying balled up in the corner of a booth until midnight, your attention either on your nearly-dead phone or the untouched milkshake Floyd had wordlessly put in front of you when he came down to make one for himself, like a zookeeper offering a pound of meat to a caged animal. Riddle was absolutely going to kill you for staying out after curfew, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how many sugar cubes you’d have to add to your lemonade tomorrow or how many roses you’d have to paint. You were tempted to spend the night here, to beg Azul to let you use one of the unoccupied rooms and just sleep your misery away, but you’d end up collared for the next week if you didn’t come back at all. The price of being in the best dorm in NRC – you were at the mercy of the strictest dorm leader on campus.

Sometimes, when you couldn’t help yourself, you wished you’d been placed in Azul’s dorm instead. He’d let you get away with anything.

 With a heavy sigh, you pulled your legs into your chest and buried your face in your knees. You felt the bench shift under someone else’s weight and raised your head just enough to see Azul sitting in front of you. He’d already discarded his jacket and scarf, his glasses propped low on the nose of his bridge and his shirt more unbuttoned than he usually cared to keep it. He’d probably just wrapped up his own work for the night. You thought you remembered him mentioning a study guide, but it was hard to tell with Azul. He always had something up his sleeve – it was hard to keep track of which scheme he was on, today.

Silently, he slid a mug of something dark and murky in front of you, steam still rising from the top. Although Floyd’s offering went neglected, you took Azul’s up without protest, letting the warmth seep into your hands. You’d been through this a thousand times. You knew better than to ignore his little remedies, by now.

After you’d taken a healthy sip, he spoke. “Who is it now?”

“Muscle-tee guy, from Savanaclaw.” You groaned, shutting your eyes. “He promised we’d be exclusive, but apparently, he thought that included his roommate, and a girl from Pomefiore, and some idiot from Royal Swords. A boy from his class had to tell me – he had pictures and everything.”

Azul offered a skeptical look. “You’re crying over him?”

“I’m not crying!” You hadn’t cried over anyone since middle school. He should know that – he’d been there then, too, to watch you sob your eyes out when your newest crush tore up your confession letter before so much as opening it. You were a third-year, now. If you were going to cry, you were going to do it alone in your closet where no one would be able to judge you.

You were more tired than anything. You could already feel today starting to weigh on you, your shoulders held at an odd slant and your remaining energy dwindling further by the second. Reluctantly, you uncurled, letting your legs fall over Azul’s lap and taking another drink before going on. “I’m just so exhausted. It feels like it always ends like this. I let my guard down, meet a guy I really like, get him to really like me, and then I find out that that he’s an asshole and somehow, I’m the only one who didn’t know.” You groaned, shaking your head. “I don’t know how this keeps happening. Are all men this bad, or just the ones I choose to date?”

“Unfortunately, your taste is the only common factor.” You let out a dry laugh, shooting Azul a narrow glare. He only shrugged, as composed and as disinterested as always. “Honestly, it’s your own fault. How can you expect to find a quality product when you’re latching onto items you’ve only known for a few days?”

Another groan, this one louder than the first.  You really were tired – it was a struggle just to keep your eyes open. “I don’t sulk in your restaurant ‘cause I want to be lectured, y’know.”

“And I didn’t open a restaurant because I wanted people with pathetic love-lives to sulk in it.” It was his turn to sigh, now, to settle closer to you. A hand came to rest on your back, rubbing small circles into the space between your shoulder blades. He was never especially touchy – you’d caught him cringing after shaking hands with a business partner or being nudged by another clumsy student in an overcrowded hallway more than once – but you could tell he tried to an exception, for you. You appreciated the effort, no matter how much it apparently hurt him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it wouldn’t hurt you if stopped rushing into relationships with people you barely know. Taking your time might save you a little heartache.” He paused. You weren’t looking at him, but you could picture the thin frown playing over his lips, the way his eyes narrowed in concentration rather than anger (because when Azul was angry, hr only ever smiled). He was smart, but predictable. Maybe it was just because of how long you’d known each other, how long you’d spent standing at Azul’s side while he looked down on everyone else, but either way, you could read him like the back of your hand. You didn’t have to see him to know exactly what he was thinking. “Or, if you really have to rush into something, you could try starting a relationship with someone you actually know. It might not be as much fun, but it couldn’t be worse than—” He gestured to you, your hunched posture, your wrinkled uniform. “—this.”

You perked up, letting out an airy laugh. It was rare for Azul to hand out advice without asking for a healthy fee, so you tried to nod, to smile, to look like you weren’t on the verge of passing out and forcing him to carry you back to your dorm. “I… I’ll think about it. I’ll try.” And you would. You’d try, at least, like you always did when Azul pulled you aside and told you to stop embarrassing him with your week-long flings. “If I wait long enough, I might even be able to find someone like you, Azul.”

There was a long, silent lapse.

Then, Azul’s hand fell to the small of his back, and you felt your strength snap and give out. You thought, distantly, about batting his hand away, about teasing him for how uncharacteristically affectionate he was being tonight, but you just couldn’t seem to make yourself move, to keep yourself upright. You felt your body slump against Azul’s side, and without missing a beat, he caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and letting out a shallow sigh.

“Right,” he muttered, as your eyes finally fell shut. You felt like you’d been hollowed out, sapped of something warm and vital and left to gently float into an unwelcome unconsciousness. You tried to scream, but your mouth wouldn’t open, your lips sealed and your tongue useless. You tried to wake up, but that only seemed to drag you down farther, to pull you that much deeper into that awful, exhausting fog.

“Maybe one day, love.”

~

You woke up to the feeling of something inside of you and cold water lapping against your skin.

In your drugged daze, the latter somehow seemed to take priority over the former. It wasn’t just cold, it was freezing, worse than the Coral Sea in the dead of winter, when the ice drifts blotted out the sun and a stray current alone could send you into hypothermic shock. It only came up to your waist, but you felt the chill run up your spine, spreading through your veins and turning your blood to ice. If you’d been able to move, you would’ve been shivering. If you’d been able to think clearly, you would’ve been more afraid.

But you could move, even if you couldn’t think. You managed to lift your hand, bringing it into your line of sight only to find a slick, pitch-black tentacle wrapped around your end, its suckers latched onto your skin and its dull point tangled around your fingers. You recognized it in an instant – Azul’s, down to the lilac-grey underside and the permeant compression marks etched into the tip, earned through countless hours of writing up contracts. You hadn’t him in his true form since you enrolled in NRC. You wondered what would be important enough for him to break his streak now.

Another wave of frigid water broke against your midriff, and you felt something quirk inside of you. It was a tight, bad feeling – a string of tension wound tight enough to coil in on itself, to ache and throb as your cunt stretched around something thick and awful and a soft, blunt head rubbed and flicked against your inner walls. Wait, that was right – something was inside of you, thrusting as it curled and twisted and thrashed. You felt it curve in on itself, the base rising to grind against your clit as it moved, and you bolted upward, taking a gasping breath. It didn’t stop you. The tentacles wrapped around both your wrists and draped over your legs weighed you down but offered no resistance as you straighten your back, as you panted and blinked and ran your hand over your stomach, half-expecting to feel a bump where it was stabbing into you. You didn’t find what you were looking for, though, or maybe you did, you couldn’t tell, your attention already moving on to the wading pool you were laying in, shallow but wide and full enough for the water to spill over the sides, and then the thing on top of you, your eyes eventually land on–

On Azul.

Azul.

Your mouth fell open, a plea for him to help you dying in your throat. He looked as strung-out as you felt; his hair pushed away from his face, giving you a perfect view of his half-lidded eyes, his parted lips, the dark blush painted across his cheeks. His hands were braced on either side of you, edging too near to your hips for comfort, and you were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you, his chest a breath from pressing into yours. Even that distance was a temporary luxury, gone as soon as your eyes met and he let out a hitched groan, falling forward until his face was buried in your neck and you couldn’t so much as imagine getting away from him.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, your legs thrashing weakly as you attempted to push him away, but now, now he chose to restrain you, his spare arms dragging yours down until they were pinned to your sides. Your legs were caught up in his tentacles, too; a pair wrapping around your thighs and spreading them apart, dragging you deeper into the water and leaving you unable to hold yourself up. His breath was as cold as the water, fanning over your skin and making the heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thighs that much more unbearable. You heard him whine, the noise pitchy and desperate, going on for seconds before he seemed to find the will to actually speak. You weren’t sure which would’ve been worse – hearing his voice in a place like this, or watching him abuse your body without so much as an apology.

“You’re tight.” There was a stilted inhale, a trembling groan. “I— Fuck, I knew you would be, but it’s like your body’s been waiting for this as long as I have. It’s like—” His voice gave out, a manic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “It’s like we were made for each other.”

He sounded so happy. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him excited about something other than schemes and contracts and profit margins measured down to the last stray cent. Usually, the closest you got was a sense of smug condescension – a certain light in his eyes and a manic zeal in his grin. This was different. This was so, so much worse.

You felt his mouth latch onto your throat, pointed teeth nipping at the skin just above your jugular before burrowing into you, drawing enough blood to drip down your chest and tint the water pink. He wasn’t satisfied with a single mark, either; his attention falling lower, to the curve of your shoulder, then the vulnerable flesh just above your collarbone. As his concentration wavered, you were allowed to slump forward, but yet another tentacle found its way to your neck, wrapping loosely around your throat, applying just enough pressure to keep you upright. It reminded you of how Azul would correct your posture when he caught you hunching over your desk, or how he’d tell you to stand just a little closer to his side while he was talking to the other dorm leaders, to sit next to him rather than across the room while he was meeting with a student who spared anything more than a stray glance in your direction. He’d never been afraid to pose you. This was just an extension of that, really – a more honest version of the same bad habit.

The rough underside of the tentacle inside of you rubbed against the walls of your pussy, and you imagined digging your nails into his cheek, clawing at his eyes, kicking and thrashing and yelling until someone heard you, until Azul decided the risk wasn’t worth the reward, but you couldn’t bring yourself to so much as attempt to move, to fight against his bondage. It was all you could do to watch him from a distance, to force yourself to be vaguely aware of what he was doing to you. The tentacle inside of you fell into a steady rhythm, and Azul’s hand fell to your clit, clumsily circling the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. His inexperience was apparent, his usual air of confidence discarded in favor of seeking his pleasure and forcing the same misplaced bliss onto you. You didn’t resist, but you jerked away from his touch. If he noticed that you were trying to get away from him, though, if he could see your pained expression or grit teeth, he didn’t seem to care, to think of it as anything other than you bucking into his hand. He tilted his head back, his pale eyes flickering towards your face, a wide smile plastering itself across his lips. Slowly, joltingly, he pulled himself back to your height and before you could brace yourself, his lips were crashing into yours. Teeth scraped against teeth, his tongue pressed into yours, and you thought, through the daze, that this might’ve been his first kiss. You couldn’t remember him mentioning anything, ever telling you about a pretty girl or cute boy who’d caught his eye. In fact, you couldn’t remember him ever mentioning anything about love or romance at all.

Huh.

It made sense, once you took a step back.

You didn’t kiss back. Obviously, you didn’t kiss back. Azul didn’t seem to care. He was panting by the time he pulled away from you, his blush darker and his pupils blown out with lust. You felt the tentacle inside of you twitch, and thought for the first time that it might not be a tentacle at all but something too terrible to name. You were almost thankful when the tentacle around your neck slipped past your lips and forced your teeth apart, giving you something to think about aside from that awful, slick thing inside of you, aside from the revolting heat slowly beginning to curl and flicker in your core. The tapered tip brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged violently, the air hitching in your throat and your body lurching against his. Azul’s grin grew broader, his pace rougher. “You’re going to cum.” It wasn’t an order or a question, just an assessment, an observation. A prediction you could only hope wouldn’t come true. “That’s alright. That’s perfect. I want you to. I’ve waited so long to—”

His voice cut out with an airy groan. He pressed himself closer to you, his stare boring into skin and his lips ghosting over yours. You tried to turn away, to clench your eyes shut, but his hands came up, cupping your face and pulling you back to him. The tentacle assaulting your mouth jutted deeper, forcing you to open your eyes, to meet his. He was crying – you could see the tear tracks running down his cheeks, carving trails across his pale skin. He was smiling, wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.

“I tried to give you a chance.” He was muttering, now, the words barely audible and entirely deafening all at once. “I tried, but this is what you drove me to.” He rested his forehead against yours, drove his nails into your jaw. “This was the only way I could show you that we were made for each other.”

Made for each other. Made for each other.

The conviction in his voice was so steadfast that, maybe, in another scenario, you probably would’ve believed him.

A tight, searing heat washed over you. Your body went rigid, tensing up as your vision burnt white and your cunt clenched around his tentacle. At the same time, something burst open inside of you, filling you with something hot and horrible and so much worse than the water you were still submerged in, the water you wished would’ve drowned you minutes ago. Rather than pull back, you felt Azul draw closer, wind around you tighter, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t.

Going limp, you leaned against the edge of the pool and closed your eyes, letting your mind drift far, far away. Azul let you, his hands falling away but his tentacles persisting with their grinding and groping and invading. It didn’t matter. It was like Azul said – you were made for each other, right?

You could only wonder how long ago he’d decided that.

[scekrex]

thanos making a bet with his fwb that he can’t keep quiet if thanos is fingering him, so once everyone’s asleep they sit in the top bunks with thanos forcing several prostate orgasms out of him (m reader) while he tries not to make any noise

idk it’s late and the thought lowkey seemed fire

Nah that prompt IS fire. Fuck hard w it ngl. Hope ya like this lil thing and I'm sorry it took so long, work holds me in a chokehold. I also spent way too fucking long on the banner whoops

'Cause tongue is overrated

pairing: Thanos x male!reader

warnings: language, anal fingering, dirty talk, mention of drugs

note: not beta read bc fuck you

“You’re too loud for that shit,” the man with the vibrant purple hair grunted as they headed back to the room where the beds for the attempting players were set up along with the neon marks on the floor that indicated their voting positions. They were heading back from the second game, the adrenaline still rushing through their veins just like the effect that those sweet, colorful pills the former rapper stored in the cross pendant that hung from his necklace was. Oh the high those candy looking pills could cause, it was the most intense high you had felt in a while.

In response to the words spoken by the purple-haired junkie walking next to you, you snorted, clearly disagreeing with the words spoken by him. Sure, you were more vocal than most men would be, that wasn’t something you’d deny given that it was the simple truth, but having Thanos telling you that you were too loud for a quickie in the bathrooms? Yeah, that man was definitely being dramatic there, you weren’t that loud - at least from your very own perspective you weren’t. And you yourself should know best if you were loud in bed or not, right? “I’m not that loud, bitch.”

Those words caused Thanos to roll his eyes at you, clearly not buying it - you on the other side believed those words were true, if demanded - and the circumstances you two found yourself in were demanding it - you definitely were able to keep quiet and tone down the noises you made while being pleasured. Well, at least you really thought that was the case, before you never really had to keep quiet while the former rapper fucked you. Sure, sometimes in bathroom stalls in shitty clubs with equally shitty music and drugs that were even worse Thanos had asked you to at least try and not let the other people around know how good he did you - but that had never been anything serious. The worst outcome out of such situations was that security would kick you two out and blacklist you. In this little game you and your best homie had signed up for? Shit, that was life or death type shit and as much as you were willing to risk your life for money while playing stupid kid games, you’d rather not take a bullet to the head while getting your world rocked by the pierced dick of the former rapper.

“Bet,” the purple-haired druggie responded with a lazy shrug of his shoulders. And maybe that should’ve been the point for you to realize that he would go and try his hardest to in fact prove you wrong. But your mind was working slower than usually due to the drugs, so you simply - and honestly quite dumbly - agreed to the bet.

Which was how you found yourself in his bed in the middle of the night. The announcement for the lights to turn off had been hours ago and the only noise that actively filled the room in which you, Thanos and 454 other players stayed in to sleep, eat and possibly bond were the rather soft sounds all those strangers made in their sleep. Well that and the rustling of fabric that was caused by the guy who had once been an active rapper. Because Thanos was on it - kicking away the blanket that was truly too thin to provide any form of comfortable warmth in a room that felt cold. The blanket wasn't the only fabric being removed.

Soon, your face was buried in the pillow - it was a shitty pillow, that you could tell, not nearly as soft as the pillows Thanos himself had in his own bed. It smelled like the purple-haired man positioned behind you though, so that was something positive.

With your ass in the air, the cheap, green tracksuit pants pulled down to your knees Thanos held you in place. One tattooed hand strongly held onto your hip, making sure your ass stayed up no matter how much your body would jerk and squirm under his touch, the other hand was occupied otherwise. Two fingers were buried knuckle deep in the heat of your body and that asshole had not bothered to take off his rings. So with every thrust that the former rapper aimed against your prostate, that ring he wore on his goddamn index finger caught onto the tight, clenching ring of muscles. The thing that bothered you most about the slight pain that silver jewelry caused was that you liked it though. Like it actually felt good, the way Thanos managed to let the pain bleed into pure pleasure.

Your teeth were sunken deeply into the fabric of the pillow, biting down on it to prevent noises from slipping from your lips, hoping dearly that those small whimpers that did escape your throat whenever the former rapper behind you hit the prostate with a little more force than necessary went unnoticed by the man causing you pleasure. “Fuck-” you grunted around the pillow between your teeth, squeezing youreyes shut in pleasure as those skilled fingers hit the G-spot of your body over and over again, causing your erected dick to leak a drop of pre-cum.

With nails clawed into the rumpled sheets and a body that trembled from how good it felt it was safe to say that you were a mess through and through. “Good boy,” Thanos growled from behind, letting his colorful painted nails sink into the flesh of your hips a little as his torso leaned forward, the clothed chest of the former rapper pressing against your bare back. And it wasn’t that you had taken off the jacket or the shirt that were part of the tracksuit you had been woken up in, no, the shirt had simply slipped from your back to bunch up around your shoulders when Thanos had forced your face down into the pillow. “Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.”

The purple-haired man’s voice gave away how aroused he was by the pure doing of fingering you, there was no need for him to actively fuck you, to split you open on his own erection that trobbed under the fabric of both his boxershorts and his tracksuit sweats. No, the sight of you all needy, trying so very hard to prove that you could in fact stay quiet was enough for him, he did not need more. And yet Thanos was confident to eventually make you lose that silly little bet he had thrown in the room earlier. There was no way his ego could take a loss like that, especially when he knew how vocal you were.

Stars danced over the darkness that surrounded you when you closed your eyes in order to focus on staying quiet. Stars that exploded into bright dots when your orgasm eventually crashed over you. It was a little embarrassing, if you were honest, the way you spilled your load onto rumpled and messy sheets without a hand on your dick to provide the friction you had been craving. The way you had simply managed to fall apart in a room filled with sleeping people, completely and utterly untouched and onl be the heavy stimulation of your prostate.

With laboured breathing you were confident that those skilled fingers that were still penetrating the swollen G-spot inside of you would leave your body within the next few seconds, that Thanos would simply lay down next to you, maybe jerk off and go to bed afterwards - you had orgasmed and you had managed to stay somewhat quiet after all. But that wasn’t what the former rapper with the wide grin on his face intended on doing, though, so he kept those two fingers buried inside your ass, still pounding, clearly causing overstimulation. He would prove you wrong, would show you how loud and messy you really were, no matter what you yourself thought about that. He’d show you that having a quickie inside the bathroom stalls was not possible with someone as loud as you.

With a whine you reached out, trying to catch his wrist in order to get his fingers to stop. But before you could do so, before you had even the slightest chance of touching him, his hand was the one wrapping around your wrist, pinning our hand against the thin mattress right next to where your head laid. Your eyes searched out his - which was kinda hard to do in the dark - all while skilled fingers kept rubbing and pushing over and against the sensitive spot hidden away inside your body. Shudders ran through you, shudders so obvious that they made Thanos smirk, that caused him to apply ever so slightly more pressure and thrust his fingers a little harder, a little more forceful.

“Too much-” you were able to gasp out as your hips jerked, not sure if they should chase the pleasure that was indeed becoming too much or if they should try to wiggle away, to put distance between your body and his hand. Thanos, though, only kicked his tongue in response, followed by a shake of his head - not that you were able to see that though - as if to tell ‘No, not too much. Take it’, and maybe you could. Maybe you could take what he was giving and push through the overstimulation that forced a pitchy whine out of your throat, followed by multiple gasps. It was sort of insane, the way constant prostate stimulation could affect the body so intensely.

Because it didn't take long for your dick to harden again - which earned an approving grunt by the former rapper kneeling between your spread legs, not even attempting to pull away. No, Thanos was clearly enjoying this, enjoying how slowly you began to grow louder and needier, how your body chased his fingers while also trying to push them away, reject them. He was watching closely, the way you reacted to his touch, to his words and reactions. “Shut it and take it like a good slut.”

Before you could wrap your pleasure-drunken mind around it, another load joined your first one on the already messy sheets. It was accompanied by a scream - a scream of pleasure definitely, but a scream nonetheless and even the attempt to muffle it by biting onto the pillow was only doing so much to dampen the loud noise that your body made.

Okay, so maybe a quickie in the men's bathroom was a bad idea. Maybe you were too loud. Because if those were the noises you let out by only the feeling of his fingers, then it was quite obvious there were louder ones, needier ones reserved for his dick.

“Told you,” the former rapper with the vibrant purple hair grunted behind you, leaning over your back which caused his chest to press against it - all while those fingers made once more no attempt to leave your spent body to rest. “Loud ass bitch can't keep quiet. They all heard you. Proves my point, don't ya think?”

[bulbabutt]

i dont know how to put this delicately. i dont know how to put it in a way that doesnt get me put on a fucking blacklist. but HONESTLY? im so tired right now.

please kill the cop in your head. like some of you are so into being a fucking surveillance state of 'this person talked to that person who followed this person who promoted this' and i just... guys. if no one is actually fucking being hurt?? and nothing 'inappropriate' is actually BEING promoted? why the hell are you telling people about shit you STALKED THEM to find out?? you genuinely dont fucking know people and you have a warped sense of morality about it. THATS whats going to get people hurt. when shit in this world starts goes south really soon and you start noticing the more open kinks of queer people on the internet, i sure hope you dont start selling them out as perverts just to justify yourself as 'one of the good ones'. cuz thats the slippery slope youre on with the way you talk sometimes. learn some fucking history about the ways in which these kind of justifications have been used in the past.

im a visibly queer adult with other shit going on i do not fucking care if someone has a side thing they arent fucking telling you about. its weird that youre telling me. im TIRED of you trying to tell me. im never gonna fucking answer these things because its MESSED UP! im not joining a fucking hate parade!

fucking kill the cop in your head. i mean that. its an important lesson to learn, and i get some of you are young and you dont get why yet, but one day youre gonna regret being like this. one day when you realize youve made people unsafe you will feel really fucking bad about it. this world is hateful enough right now without needing to fucking dog pile on people who are keeping to themselves. and if theyre not? block them and move on. why is that so fucking hard?

a fucking hate campaign game of telephone only serves to make people feel unsafe. I FEEL UNSAFE around you people. have you never been on the receiving end of group harassment before? i have. as a teenager! back when the internet was MORE anonymous than it is now! got my shit plastered on bigoted sites where people were sending me death and rape threats to my inbox every day for weeks. thats the end result of what youre doing to people. it WILL become co opted by those kinds of people.

just because something gives you an ick, it doesnt mean someone is a morally reprehensible person. it doesnt mean they deserve to feel unsafe in the world. block it and move the fuck on. youre going to get someone hurt. you probably already have.

[fishyvamp]

I think Tarhos, Trapper, Danny, frankly all of the killers really, would come with me to my doctors appoitment and threaten the doctor if they weren't taking my issues seriously, love them for that

This hits close to the chest, doctor's ignoring signs brushing you off. Suddenly your notes include hypochondria, history of severe mental illness, or some other way to discredit you for every cynical half assed doctor who sees your notes. Maybe not every killer, but enough of them for sure and these are violent and passionate killers. If you are their world, oh boy the doctor better hope that they only piss the one off who isn't stab happy dump their body in the woods kind of person.

Just for my sanity and so I can live vicariously through my own writing this will take place in a modern!AU though if you want a more period accurate one I'd indulge.

Evan Macmillan, The Trapper, is from one the most influential families in the city. What the fuck do they mean his doll is a lazy and should lose weight?! You're trying everything to get better, but you can barely get out of bed. Your limbs feeling like lead most mornings. He shows up holding your hand as he listens to the doctor adress him and not you. Telling him, not you that it's all about diet.

Evan Macmillan is short tempered, he tries to hard to control it, but the fact that the doctor is talking to him and not you and asking him for the information has him screaming at the doctor as you try to calm him down. The man is seeing red, hating himself for prioritizing the work at the mine instead of your health. If the doctor doesn't agree to at least test Evan will make sure the doc is blacklisted to hell and back, because you don't deserve to live like this without at least answers.

Tarhos Kovács, The Knight, is a veteran, turned mercenary, who enlisted way too young. He's seen too many fall apart from neglect and you are his world. He knows you are trying and he knows you want to get better. Your eyes full of tears whenever you come home a new bottle of pills in a brown paper bag. You hurt all the time, your head hurts all the time. Days on end in bed, you feel bad that with little time he is home is spent with him caring for you. Surely he would want someone less broken.

One too many times this has happens and he's driving to the doctors office leaving you at home just so he can yell at someone. The doctor would be preferred, but he'll settle on an administrator to threaten and scream at. They haven't done any scans ever for you and you've dealt with this longer then you have known him. It hurts him to know that you're being ignored. For some strange reason you get a call saying the doctor wants scans on the book for a more comprehensive look.

"Jed Olsen", The Ghostface, is silent rage kind of guy. You insisted that he didn't need to come. You're still freshly dating only a few months, but he knows your ill and knows you've been ignored Everytime you've asked for help. You're afraid he's going to scream at the doc make a scene and just generally be embarrassing. You know he's angry, he's got that look in his eye that You've only seen when he said he had business to take care of weirdly smelled of bleach the next day. However that didn't happen instead you watch him pull out a thick pocket journal opening it up.

Turns out he's been monitoring you closely and that smart watch he got you was him preparing for this. He starts rattling off any and every unusual thing he's noted and is even willing to give a copy to the doc to go over. Hard to say it's in your head when the details are all written down. The doc says he needs to look over it to figure out what tests he wants to run but there was enough there for him to justify it. "Jed" is just happy to see that look of relief on your face knowing that something might finally happen even if there is no cure at least you're a step closer to finding out what it might be. He also starts taking your vitals more openly now that his secret is out.

Philip Ojomo, The Wraith, has been ignored enough time himself to know who is the right doctor to go to. Someone who will actually listen to you, someone who looks horrified as you explain why you just stopped trying to figure out what is wrong with you. Philip doesn't care how far the two of you have to travel for you to get proper care, he'll take work off to drive hours to get you to a specialist. He doesn't see it as a chore, he loves you and this; this is just him caring for the one he loves more then the air itself. He'll even carry you inside when you inevitably pass out on the drive home.

[simphornies]

Vox with an overlord s/o hmngg. He’d get such an ego boost from having another overlord submit to him, especially if they’re close in power but also… he’d never admit it but he’d fucking love to get dommed SO hard

A/N: He's giving switch/service top honestly. Maybe a hint of power bottom. (definitely adding this to my lengthy headcanon list). Bonus points if you can guess who the first unnamed character is

Word count: 1.1k (1,152) Warnings: suggestive content, implied sex, dominant reader

Power Hungry - [ Vox x Overlord!Reader ]

“And stay out.” Your voice was stern, laced with anger. You glared at the mafia head that disrespected your meeting. “Your business is no longer needed with us, imp.”

He hissed, “Whatever bitch. Your loss. You’ll soon realize this decision of yours was a mistake.” He got up, dusting himself off as he glared at you. You glared at him back, your demon form on the verge of exploding out.

“Get out of my sight before I take your head. You better hope I never see you again because next time, I’m displaying your skull on my wall. And that’s a promise.” Your voice distorted as you pointed your angelic spear to his throat, cutting him slightly. He backed down, shaking slightly as he ran off. You pulled your spear aside and huffed. “The nerve of that little shit.”

Vox put his hand on your shoulder, the touch immediately calming you down. “I’ll keep eyes on him, make sure he doesn’t try to put a hit on you.” He beamed with pride at your display of power, “Come on, let’s go back in.”

Your spear vanished as well as your demon form, reverting back to your usual self. “I will squish him the next time I see him I swear to god!” You screamed. Vox held your waist, pulling you close as you two walked over to his office.

“If he’s in the area, I’ll make sure to get him up here for you babe.” He grinned at you.

You smiled at him, “You know exactly how to make me happy, Vox.” You gave him a quick peck on his lips.

“That was hot as fuck though.” He winked.

“Oh hush it! You say that every time you see me in my demon form. Remember when I almost killed you?” You laughed, “You faced a second death and what did you say?”

He laughed with you, “I think I said ‘Holy shit you’re hot.’ or something along those lines.”

“Insane. Threw me off guard and saved your life. Glad you said it though.”

The two of you entered his office. He sat on his chair and you sat on top of him with no hesitation. “You really gotta get me my own chair here.”

“Hmm…No. You have a seat right here.” He flirted to which you rolled your eyes.

“I guess that’s true.” You rest your head on his chest as you watch him tap away at his computer. “So what’s the agenda?”

“Nothing. That was the last one for the day and it looks like he already left.” He sent a message out to block any future business with him and you sent a message to Carmilla to make sure he can’t get any weapons from her either, completely blacklisting him from her company. She happily obliged considering you were a close friend of hers and helped her greatly during her rise in power.

“And I just blacklisted him from Carmilla’s company. That little shit isn’t getting any angelic weapons anytime soon.” You laughed.

“That’s my girl.” He smiled at you. You two share a passionate kiss before getting interrupted by Valentino slamming his door open.

“Vox! You won’t fucking believe wh-Oh! Am I interrupting something?” He grinned and leaned up against the doorway. “Can I stay and watch?” He winked.

You glare at him even though he probably couldn’t see your expression. You threw a stapler at him which Valentino dodged last minute. “Fuck off! We’re having a moment! Come back later!” He ran out, slamming the door behind him. “And no you can’t watch! Gross.”

“Oh the headaches you save me from.” He held you close to him, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Anything for you, baby.” You grabbed his hand to kiss it, “I’ll kill for you, you just say the word.”

His ego was filled to the brim knowing he had you by his side, willing to do anything he asked of you with no hesitation. You and him were on par with each other in power but in terms of fighting, you had the advantage. You had more experience fighting considering you had to work hard and kill anyone in your way to become an overlord, even almost killing Vox when he met you. He came to save Valentino from getting killed because he tried to force you into becoming one of his girls. Your patience already ran thin so when he asked you more than 3 times, you nearly squashed him. Vox came to save him of course and your love blossomed from thereon out.

He loves watching your angry fits, even sitting back with some popcorn as you killed an entire gang of sharks that tried to force themselves on you once. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by your power. You weren’t afraid of speaking up for yourself and you most certainly will do anything to have people listen to you. Any demon would be doomed to die if they ever looked down upon you for anything. There were times that he spoke back to you and he found it attractive whenever you’d assert yourself on him. He was as power hungry as you were. But if you were the power? He was starving. He craved you more when you showed power but he never wanted to admit it in the bedroom.

“You know I love it when you’re assertive. It’s so hot.” He whispered into your ear. Shivers went down your spine at his deep voice, triggering something inside of you.

“Yeah?” You turned, straddling him, “I bet you’d love it if I did that to you in private, hm?” You smiled, slightly grinding on the tent in his pants.

“Mmm. I don’t know, baby. Would I?” He smiled up at you, a teasing tone evident in his voice.

You kissed him, tongues intertwining and curling around each other. You were both out of breath by the time the two of you pulled away. He was about to get up to take you to his room but you stopped him. “No.” You said, your hand on his chest, “Stay. And lock the door while you’re at it.” You smirked at him. He nodded and with a flick of his finger, his door was locked. Before you two could get it on in his office, you both heard something behind the door.

“Fuck! You guys didn’t have to fucking lock it!” Valentino yelled, his voice muffled behind the door. The two of you laughed in response before averting your attention back to each other.

“Now. I think I have some…anger to let out.” You grabbed him by his collar and dragged him over to the couch, pushing him down on it. “And record this for yourself, baby.” You winked.

“Yes ma’am.”

He’d be lying if he wasn’t going to beg for you to dominate him more after that night.

[usagi-chwan]

Ouch!! It stings!!

🌸 Characters in this chapter: Ranpo, Atsushi, Chuuya, Dazai and Poe.

🌸 Spoils: none!

A request from AO3, completed and delivered! I had been asked to imagine the characters' reactions to an injection, and without spoiling you.... Some of them are braver than me :)

For those who fear this sort of thing, I think you can read regardless; I have not detailed anything about the injection itself, so it should be fine!

Happy reading ~

Ranpo

- Did you expect him to be the one who struggled the most? No way!

- Against all odds, he remains totally stoic, completely out of character... He is a grownup, after all, is he not?

- But is he really? And... Ranpo, accepting an injection without saying a word? How odd!

- And yes, you are right to want to dig a little deeper to discover the hidden truth. After the injection, Ranpo simply extends his hand to Fukuzawa or Yosano, who place a HUGE packet of sweets in his hand.

- Yes, you are not dreaming; our best detective is being bribed. Like the child he is deep down inside.

~

Atsushi

- Before arriving at the nurse's office where he is to receive his injection, he tells himself over and over again that it is nothing at all, and that it will only last a few seconds.

- However, before he even gets the injection, he nearly faints in his seat, shakes and sweats profusely, so much so that the nurse cannot even do her job.

- And then... Even before the fateful moment, Atsushi's unintentional puppy (tiger) eyes makes the nurse feel guilty, and she no longer dares to give the injection.

- In the end, one of his colleagues always ends up accompanying him and holding his hand, and this is most often Dazai.

- Why Dazai? Quite simply because, this way, he at least does something with his day... But also because it prevents Atsushi from turning into a tiger and running away :)

~

Chuuya

- This is one of his biggest, best-kept secrets: he is scared to death of needles.

- So, if he could bite the nurse's head off while the latter was giving him his injection, he would do it without hesitation; but, nevertheless, the last traces of his reason (those not yet lost amidst a sea of intense stress and the desire to give a few kicks) are screaming at him that the poor nurse had nothing to do with it, and that this injection is essential to keep him healthy... But Chuuya could do without it, that is for sure!

- Still, the scream he utters as the nurse pricks him is bloodcurdling.

- And we are lucky that our Chuuya refrains from using his power...

~

Dazai

- He is not the least bit afraid of injections (in fact, it is almost the opposite: it is the nurse who is afraid of him); for Dazai, it is just another part of the day. But which also means he misses a few precious hours of work... Oh noooo :(

- The only downside is that he is beginning to be unable to find a facility that will accept to welcome him; in fact, he has already been blacklisted from several hospitals where he has been for injections...

- And why? Quite simply because constantly flirting with the nurses and repeatedly asking them to strangle him with their dainty little hands was not to everyone's taste...

- Nor was trying to steal a few dangerous products when everyone (or almost everyone) had their backs turned.

~

Poe

- With him, the adventure begins long before the D-day.

- A bit like Atsushi, he starts stressing even before he enters the nurse's office, but to the power of a thousand. And, more importantly... Weeks before. For a moment that will only last a minute at most.

- He is bound to faint at some point during the "event", no matter how hard the nurse tries to keep her patient conscious. But at least, this way... All the nurse has to do is do her job and wait for the patient to wake up!

- The most unusual part of the story... Poe, before he even arrives at the nurse's office, took the habit of grabbing the first thing he can reach (often a tree or a post), while Karl, with all his meagre strength, desperately tries to pull his master in the direction of his injection.

- Moral: beware of anyone, even your own pets. Treason is never far away.

And that's it for this chapter, hope you enjoyed it! Have a nice day/evening, and see you next time~

[data-fag]

Hello, I'm a developer for Fallout: Ashfall. I'm pretty sure the Ashfall tumblr account belongs to one of the developers on Ashfall, the problem is no one seems to know who exactly is the guy in charge of the tumblr account. Everyone I ask about the tumblr account points fingers at either a different developer or someone else. That Ashfall tumblr blog only ever gets super active whenever other people in the ashfall developer chats start talking about it, so it is at least one of the developers. This feels like another one of the guerilla marketing campaigns. I know we tried to make Xanderhal do another video talking about Fallout: Ashfall by spamming his youtube live chat and trying to antagonize him in the comments but that didn't yield any fruit. There's a lot of conspiratorial thinking and finger pointing in the Ashfall development team and a lot of blood and animosity between developers. Lots of rumors flying around, it doesn't feel like a very healthy work environment. People on the Ashfall team are implying that we'll get blacklisted from the Fallout community and have false allegations thrown at us if we try leaving the project. You have no idea how bad things really are until you're at ground zero.

{{Hey man, hope you don't mind but I'm publishing this ask for visibilities sake-

Because it means a lot you'd take time out of your day during this clearly stressful situation to put out an answer to our very small potatoes blog. So, I'm assuming this is in good faith-

Getting back around to the topic at hand. I'm so incredibly sorry the team at large is going through this type of drama.

I understand first hand that projects like this are a labor of love so when shit hits the fan it can be incredibly hard to just up and leave. Especially seeing as you all have put in some damn good work.

But at the end of the day, the safety and mental health of your team should take priority over this. It's ultimately not up for me to decide as I have no connection with y'all and I'm just some random community member. That being said however, I can assure you that just about everyone else community wise would probably agree.

I highly doubt anyone would oust you for falling in with a few bad eggs. It's the internet and things happen, all I can say is I wish you guys the best and hope things work out alright in the end. -Six}}

[marvelobsessed134]

Kinktober day 6: possessiveness with Gene Simmons

A/n: I always imagine Gene to be like really big and muscular so sorry if you don’t like the descriptions I give him

Pairings: Gene Simmons x Fem!reader

Warnings: possessive!gene, use of the name princess, hes so hot his voice is so deep mmm, semi rough smut, quickie (?), daddy kink I’m adding In because look at him he’s so daddy.

Summary: Your boyfriend is always possessive of you

Gene’s always been possessive over you. And you like it. It’s so hot when he gets jealous and tries to hide you away from everyone else so he could have you all to himself. Though, you being a model kind of makes that difficult for him.

One day you were hanging out on stage before rehearsals, the bassist’s arm wrapped around your shoulders as he laughed about whatever Eric (Carr) was saying.

“What do you think, princess? Should we all go on stage naked?” You giggled at that. “Noooo,” you dragged out the word with a smile and laugh, “you would literally be blacklisted from every arena and stadium. Plus kids come to your shows! You’d get some pretty pissed off parents.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Eric said with a cheek smile.

“Of course you do, Carr. I don’t know what’s with drummers but they’re always so immature.” You’re referring to the other drummers you know and met, Tommy Lee and Steven Adler.

“Hey I’m not nearly as bad as Tommy ok? I don’t go swinging my dick around.”

“I know, I know.”

Suddenly, Paul walked in and got a little too close to you, he was trying to give you a hug because he hasn’t seen you yet today. But you felt Gene’s embrace tighten and you could almost feel the glare he sent Paul’s way.

The singer knew that his bandmate was possessive of you, but had figured giving you a hug after he hadn’t seen you all day would be fine. Apparently not.

It was awkward for a moment before everyone had to get ready for rehearsals.

Gene dragged you into his dressing room, shutting the door and locking it before backing you against it.

You giggled and blushed under his intense stare, “What’s wrong baby? The demon take over you again?” You always joke about how his character is his alter ego which is very true.

“No, I just don’t like seeing anyone go near my stuff.” Fuck, it’s so hot when he refers to you as his things, his stuff. Sure it could be derogatory to some but to you it makes your panties damp.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, trailing a finger down his clothed chest.

“Yeah,” he rasped, “I think we have a few minutes to spare.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement before pulling your panties down from under your skirt. Gene immediately pulled you over to the couch. He took his very large cock out that was already hard.

“Looks like someone’s excited.” You teased before straddling him, not needing much foreplay because you’re already so wet.

“How could I not be? You in this little outfit. Wanted to take you right on stage.” He responded and moaned when you slowly slid down on his cock.

“Yeah, daddy? I wanted you to bend me over the stage and fuck the life out of me. Show everyone who I belong to.” You began riding him and he gripped your hips, controlling your pace.

Slowly but steadily, he got more rough, and you bounced up and down moaning loudly as you felt him repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh yes!” You moaned.

“Good fucking girl. You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum? I’m gonna cum too, I can feel it. Ah- fuck!” You clenched around him. And he shot his load into you.

You panted, leaning forward and burying your face in his shoulder. His large hands rubbing your back soothingly.

“Alright, as much as I loved this you’re gonna have to get off me. But hey, I’ll let you do my makeup.” Gene knows how much you love doing his demon makeup.

“Yes!” You said excitedly before getting up.

[blind-fic-exchange]

Blind Fic Exchange

What It Is: This is a monthly event inspired by the Blind Date with a Book events that are sometimes done in bookstores and libraries. The idea is to try something new, maybe something you wouldn't normally read, as well as getting to recommend some fics that you really like.

How It Works: On the 1st of every month, sign-ups will open for anyone interested in participating. Sign up by sending an ask that includes the maximum rating you want to read and a list of anything you are NOT interested in reading that month, e.g. certain categories of relationships, triggers, tropes, etc. (You don't have to explain your list at all, and your list can change from month to month if you want. You're not necessarily saying you would NEVER read a fic that includes those things, just that you don't want to this time. For example, if you've been reading a lot of whump lately and just want something soft and gentle, you could put "whump" and/or "angst" on the list.)

Sign-ups will close at 11:59 p.m. Central Time (UTC-6) on the 13th of every month. On the 14th, I will randomly match up names from the list and let everyone know who their partners are. (For now, the plan is to tell everyone secretly so it will be a surprise, but if a lot of people sign up, that may change ^^') At that point, you will pick three fics for your fic-reading partner to choose from, abiding by their list of what they don't want to read. Ideally, these will be fics that you have NOT written yourself. The point of this event is to share good stories with each other, not self-promotion. Send links to the three stories to your partner, along with a vague description for each that doesn't give away the title, category, or characters in it. For example: "two characters stave off boredom during a long trip" or "deathbed confession of love" or "a dragon slayer is saved by a dragon and has to rethink his entire life."

When you receive your selection of fics, pick one that sounds interesting, and enjoy!

Do's and Don'ts:

DO try to send your fic recommendations in a timely manner as soon as you find out who your partner is. There's no hard-and-fast deadline, other than the end of the month, but please be courteous and give your partner time to read it.

DON'T try to slip in something from your partner's list for any reason. Even if you think it's silly they asked for no fics with mentions of marshmallows, that doesn't make it okay to send them your favorite story about people sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows. If you end up reading someone's recommendation that has something you specifically asked not to be there, please feel free to reach out to me. Such violations will be dealt with on a case-by-case basis, because accidents happen, but do understand that if the determination is that it was deliberate, you WILL be blacklisted from participating in the future. This is supposed to be a fun event, so please don't jeopardize it.

DO remember to leave comments/kudos/etc. on the fic you read! Show some love to both the author and the person who recommended the fic!

DON'T hesitate to recommend a long chapterfic, nor feel obligated to read the whole thing in a certain time frame if you receive one. The general expectation should be that you will read at least the first chapter of whatever you're sent if you sign up for this event, but beyond that, it's up to you.

DO feel free to recommend incomplete fics (unless that goes against your person's preferences). We all know that one amazing fic that hasn't updated in five years, but is still worth a read. Just make sure you mention in your description that it's incomplete, in case that becomes a deciding factor.

That's all I can think of for now, but I may be adding to this later as things crop up. Please feel free to reach out with any questions, clarifications, or concerns! The official tag I'll be using will be #blind fic exchange

[pouncequick]

The Balance

More from Boorman's book.

Chapter 7:

The timeline is a little fuzzy at the start of this chapter. It starts with Simone debuting her Amanar at the 2012 WOGA Classic and says this is when she was invited to camp, and then on the next page goes on to discuss camp experiences in 2011. The 2011 experiences were when she got blacklisted, so I'm guessing that the 2012 Amanar was when she really made herself undeniable and got invited back

The 2011 camp, most coaches were impressed with Simone, but Martha just tore into her and they declined the next invitation. They then weren't invited to the next selection camp (or any others)

When Aimee asked Valeri for advice on helping Simone improve with press handstands for physical abilities testing, he told her not to worry about it too much, noting Nastia was always last in physical abilities

More timeline confusal, because it sounds like she wasn't actually at many camps in 2012, but just qualified for the big competitions and earned an automatic spot on the National Team despite it (and Martha's disapproval)

Aimee feels that part of the reason Kyla was asked to exhibition at 2013 American Cup was to mentor Simone and Katelyn. After Simone fell on beam, she did help comfort and encourage Simone

Aimee was very nervous for this, Simone's first international competition, but Valeri helped her calm down and pointed out that the competition at American Cup was less intense than a major US domestic meet

At Jesolo, Aimee ended up partnering with Martha at canasta (which she had just learned to play at the Ranch) and held her own--it felt like a rite of passage

During Jesolo, Martha and the National Team staff arranged for three cakes for Aimee, Sarah Janzi, and Jenny, who all had birthdays during the trip

During the next meet in Germany (same trip), Al Fong snarked that Aimee didn't have to worry about where Simone would be in line ups because "She had the 'Golden Child.'" Pissed Aimee off

Heading into 2013 Classics, Simone wasn't having good practices--skipping assignments, low effort, not really trying to stay on the equipment. A teenager's way of exercising control. The goal was primarily to make sure she didn't hurt herself in practice. They didn't push--there was not point in pushing if Simone was determined to fall. She did tell Simone she wouldn't let her trash her gymnastics. They went out and let her perform poorly, only pulling her when she got lost in the air on vault so she wouldn't hurt herself

Aimee very much takes a "Tomorrow is a new day" approach to practice. First positive thing she says about Martha in the book is that Martha was also very good at that approach

Simone debuted the Biles I to crowd acclaim here, but put everything into it and crashed her FTDT because she hadn't been doing her conditioning

They developed the Biles I because backwards landings were hurting her shins, so they added a half twist to have a forward landing instead. Shin pain turned out to be a bone spur in her tibia.

After this, Simone had explored the limits of where her talent could take her without doing the work, and she decided she wanted to do the work. Only 3 weeks to Nationals

Ended up winning Nationals by .2 over Kyla and sweeping silvers--she had trained hard, and they'd improved their communication

Chapter 8:

Luis, her co-coach, was concerned Simone was being paced too quickly

At the training facility in the Netherlands before Antwerp, the vault landing ended in a brick wall--it was scary to vault at, and the team all had big vaults and were pulling their power. Brenna couldn't complete her assignments, and instead of saying "It will be better at the real facility in Antwerp," Martha declared she'd be the reserve and wouldn't compete. Everyone was afraid they would be next. Aimee says Brenna was an excellent teammate despite her disappointment

Aimee really doesn't seem to care for the two-per-country rule

Coaches were behind a curtain for the AA medal ceremony. Aimee ran up to the nosebleed seats in the stands so she could watch and left her credentials behind. Coming back down, she couldn't get back on the floor, and she also didn't have a ticket to get back in the stands. She had to call Luan Peszek to bring her her credentials, but she couldn't get to Simone before she was whisked away for pictures and autographs

Simone's $ beam mark was originally an accident--she drew a line for her dismount, and then put an S through it so she would recognize it

Carlotta's comment: Aimee was furious. But she was also Simone's white coach, and it wasn't her place to be more furious than Simone's own family, and she let them lead in handling the situation. Carlotta's apology was obviously undercut by the Italian Gymnastics Federation's president's remarks afterwards. She praises Ron and Nellie for their parenting and helping Simone with the situation

Chapter 9:

Martha Bannon sold the gym to Luis, and the professionalism and sharpness of the gym were waning. They were losing a lot of students and their ege. He was also less interested in Simone's journey. USAG gave the gym a stipend to upgrade their equipment for Simone, and he didn't ever seem to get around to doing it. USAG gave a stipend to hire a substitute coach while Aimee was gone with Simone, but he never did it

Aimee knew she was ready to leave and reached out to Nellie about the situation. She admits that she wanted to ask if she left, if the Biles' would follow her (Adria was still competing as well). Nellie surprised her by telling her they'd been thinking of building a gym

Aimee told Luis she was leaving. Rumors began to swirl and another coach told Luis that Aimee had tried to recruit her to start a new cheer program. When Luis confronted Aimee over this, she knew the trust was completely gone and walked out then and there

Simone was pretty in the dark about everything and was frantic when Aimee left like that

The plan had been for Aimee, Simone, and Adria to leave at the same time in an organized fashion, but the Biles' left about a month later. Aimee arranged for them to train at AIM for six months during AIM's off hours

Aimee made up with Luis. However, another coach had chosen to leave with Aimee. This coach downloaded her team list so she could contact her athletes to let them know she was leaving--but it looked like she was trying to poach them. Luis got a cease and desist against both that coach and Aimee. Aimee and Luis haven't spoken since. Six kids followed Aimee, none recruited

Losing her gym and her teammates was really hard on Simone, and Aimee encouraged her to strengthen her ties with her National Team teammates

Chapter 10:

Lots about dealing with injuries in this chapter

Aimee pulled Simone from 2014 American Cup because of shoulder pain, wanting to rest it before it became serious. They also skipped Jesolo because she couldn't train bars at all. They had Zito come in to do her choreography, but she struggled with it because she was so frustrated her shoulder was preventing her from tumbling much

Aimee's philosophy is that if you have to guess if an athlete is injured, you should assume that they are. If they're faking it, there's a reason and you'll figure it out. If they aren't, it's dangerous. (If they're faking it, it might still be dangerous)

Pain doesn't make you stronger. It's your body telling you something it wrong

Athletes have to learned the difference between something hurting because they're pushing themselves and pain from an injury

Her rule is you can tape for two practices, then she needs a doctor's note with medical guidance on how to proceed

Simone's shoulder started hurting again at Pac Rims. Martha said it was because Simone was fat. When asked for guidance on how to finish a workout, Martha said she didn't care if SImone just crawled across the floor. They withdrew on guidance from a training and Aimee never told Simone Martha's comments. Martha was done with Simone if Simone wasn't winning

They finally found a doctor who could diagnosis and treat the shoulder (needed specific strengthening exercises). She's grateful they didn't push the injury

Nationals was when Simone really started distancing herself as an athlete--winning by bigger margins, getting silver with a fall on beam (careful to note she tied with Peyton Ernst)

At the time, they'd left AIM and were training in a quickly converted warehouse while they waited for WCC to be built. Aimee was invovled in setting up the warehouse and the planning for WCC and was spending a lot of time on operational things. Simone eventually told her she was upset because Aimee never coached her anymore--she was always in the office. Aimee had to admit she was right and started delegating as much of her admin tasks as she could, because her first job was taking care of Simone.

[deliriouslyshipping]

I feel like Jan would hold up a pretence until smthg serious happens. Like a really adamant sub keeps rudely commenting on his body (and Jan is still senstive about how his body looks like, he's worked hard to look the way he does) and objectifying in demeaning ways. Usually carlos would snarkily defend Jan but Carlos isn't there this time. The rest of the comments try getting him shadow-banned but the damage is done.

Carlos private:

Foxiecarrot: you're my favorite.

Foxiecarrot: there I said it. now come back.

Foxiecarrot: please.

And carlos (the idiot) is in the middle of a tourney so doesn't reply for a few days. He comes back from the winning high to the message but the please throws him off. He tunes into a session and the guy is still there torturing Jan by being mean to him. He emails the website of the company to get the guy blacklisted. Cue to another bank call.

Bank lady: sir is it true you paid £50,000 to get a client off a porn site?

Carlos (absolutely shamlessly): yes I did. And I'll do it again

Bank lady: sir, you are aware that if these account transactions get leaked your career is at stake?

Carlos (sassily): Well its your job to make sure it doesn't right? It's my money, how I use it shouldn't matter if it makes me happy right. That's your motto, "Spend money, be happy" (Carlitos' financial advisor facepalms in the distance)

Bank lady: Sighs.

carlos starts devotedly tuning into jan's sessions and he gets nicknamed No.1 foxiecarrot defender. Rumour that he got the creep banned goes around and Jan goes O.o

~Jay

We're building a whole fic here. hehehehhe <3

Carlos spending all of his earnings on Jannik jeeeeez. He is completely infatuated. I can envision how upset Carlos would be once he sees what happened while he was gone, his determination to fix it.

OHHHH when Jannik hears about it he has to confront Carlos because how tf did he do it?

Foxiecarrot: who are you? and don't bullshit me

Charly03: You want to know who your favorite viewer is?

Foxiecarrot: I just said don't bullshit me

Charly03: I am no one