#Yes I'm still trying to make this a thing

[bruhstories]

touch-starved

summary: dante is touch-starved, and he thinks the only way for him to feel something is to get punched by you

pairing: dante x afab!reader | based on the netflix version but definitely canon divergent

warnings: dry humping, unprotected p in v, creampie, degradation kink, very light choking, lots of swearing, kind of soft dom dante and light pain kink if you squint, idiots in love, friends to lovers, bit of praise, fem bodied reader

w/c: ~3.2k

a/n: this is definitely not my best work but it's a warm up ig. lol anyway i absolutely loved the dmc netflix version, and i'm considering getting the games

"Punch me."

Not a question, but an indisputable demand coming from the demon hunter, which made you do a double take, place the barrel of your M4 carbine on the table, and flat-out refuse.

"No."

He snarled, yes, snarled at you, slamming his pistol against the table with a loud bang. You looked up from your own weapon, taken aback by Dante's reaction, concern written all over your face. Was he high??

"Come on, Y/N, just do it. Just one punch, one tiny little punch. I know you want to." His cocky grin did numbers on your nerves, but you still refrained from giving him the satisfaction of hitting him. It’s been years since you met Dante, by this point you were used to his shenanigans.

"Why, though?" You decided to focus on cleaning your weapon, the sharp smell of isopropyl alcohol filling the room.

"Because," Dante groaned, snatching the bottle of liquid from you, causing you to glare daggers at him, "I'm touch starved."

You blinked once, twice, trying your hardest to process both his honesty, and the logistics of his request.

"Why not ask for a hug, then? Or, I don't know, go to therapy?"

"Hah! I'm sure my therapist is gonna have a field day with me! So, my dad, a demon, disappeared without a trace, then my mother and twin brother died, but actually my brother is alive somewhere. My therapist is gonna need a therapist."

"Okay, okay, you made your point. Still, you could just rephrase it. Maybe leave out the demon bit." You wiped the barrel clean before setting it aside.

"I'd rather get punched. Now, please."

"Dante, a punch isn’t gonna solve it. Are you sure you don’t want a hug? I could cook you something. Or we could grab a few beers and watch a movie, or talk about your feelings." You shrugged.

Both of you had done this before — went out for drinks, danced, cooked together, fell asleep together — it was so intimate, almost like you were a couple. But the reality was that you weren’t. Not by a long shot. Unfortunately for you, Dante was protective of you in the way an older brother was. You thought that, perhaps, he missed Vergil so much that you were the closest thing he had to a sibling in years.

"A punch would be less time consuming. Cooome on, babe, just hit me!"

You hated when he called you babe. He called other girls babe, girls that were hot, pretty, girls that were his type, and it was the nickname that made you clench your jaw and purse your lips.

"Ugh, fine!" You sat up, rotated your wrist and flexed your fingers. "Are you sure this is going to help in any way?"

"Positive. Right here." Dante pointed at his cheek.

"What, in your face?"

"You're stalling."

Without a single ounce of hesitation you swung your arm, hitting the demon hunter square in his face, but it caused you more pain than it did him, and you stumbled back, holding your fist in your other hand.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" You cried out in pain, knowing damn well that would happen. Still, you couldn't say no to him. Ever.

"Are you okay?" Dante was visibly concerned — a rare sight since he was always cool and edgy, even when his own life was in danger.

"Fuck no! Feels like I punched a brick wall!" You practically growled at him, gaze quickly softening when you saw the pure look of terror in his eyes. "But hey, nothing a little ice can't fix, right?"

"Right." He nodded and got up, making a beeline for the freezer.

There was no ice in it, but there was a pack of frozen peas somewhere at the bottom of a drawer, which Dante picked up and brought to you. When you reached for it, he, instead, took your sore hand in his, gently pressing the cold legumes onto your knuckles. You winced, instinctively trying to retract your hand, but he held it in place, his fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you from backing away.

The pain wasn't gone, but it was becoming bearable, and a relieved murmur escaped past your lips, one that sounded closer to a moan than a sigh. Dante's cheeks burned, tinted red with embarrassment and arousal because you were yet another girl in his life who just didn't want to be involved romantically with him. Not that he tried anything with you, because he always thought you deserved better. Sure, he was cocky and flirtatious, but he wasn't a dick. If no one reciprocated the flirting, he didn't push his luck. It was simple. And he wasn’t the type who did one-night stands, despite the rumours. Dante enjoyed having a connection to the people he took to bed, he became sexually attracted to those he knew on a deeper emotional level. But sometimes, when he was really, truly desperate, he would download Tinder and hook up with random girls.

And he reeked of desperation.

"Dante, you can let go of my hand now."  You told him, part of you hoping he wouldn't.

Who could blame you? He was an objectively attractive man, with a charming smile and a body sculpted by the gods themselves. Why would he ever want to get involved with you? Dante was your opposite — he talked, he sang, he danced, he was obnoxious. You were quiet, most of the time, and shy. In fact, when he first met you, he thought you had some form of speech impediment, with your nose in Boccaccio’s The Decameron, a book you stole from the public library because you were much too young to read. That’s when knew you were trouble, just like him.

"Yeah, of course." Dante stepped back. "How's your hand?"

"Better. How are you feeling?"

"Me? Why are you asking?"

"Hello?" You scrunched your nose and frowned. "You wanted me to punch you because you were touch-starved. Did it help?"

"I'll be honest, it felt more like a tickle than anything." He shrugged. "Are you sure you didn't pull your punch?"

There it was, the one thing that turned you from an introvert to a bat-shit crazy bitch — his stupid little mouth that he opened without ever thinking.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're telling me I risked breaking my bones so you could feel better, only for you to not feel anything? I swear to fucking God, Dante, this is the last time I'm doing anything nice for you."

"Nice? You punched me!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, while your blood boiled inside of you, sending you into a blind rage.

"You asked me to punch you, you maniac! You should've fucked me instead!"

Your eyes widened at the sentence that came out of your mouth without a single thought, mortified at your own stupidity.

"Hugged. I meant hugged. Shit."

"No, no, hold up, you didn't say hugged." Dante tilted his head, one hand rubbing his chin. "Isn't that called a Freudian slip?"

"I- well- how the fuck do you even know what a Freudian slip is?" You tried changing the subject but he didn't bite.

"Google." He closed the gap between the two of you, and for the first time you felt intimidated by him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

The bluntness of his question, coupled with the sudden change in the pitch of his voice made you feel like a cornered prey. There was no possible way he was serious. But he wasn't wrong — the nature of your jobs made it impossible for either of you to have partners, and besides, you've known each other for years. It was only natural that some form of physical attraction would have developed between you two, right? But why you? Why now? And the worst of all your questions, why not?

You didn’t want to think about how this would ruin almost a decade of friendship. All you could think about was the look of pure lust in his eyes as he held your gaze, and how months upon months of sexual frustrations accumulated inside of you, bubbling and boiling and exploding when you dropped the pack of peas on the floor.

"Yes. I want you to fuck me."

Without a sliver of hesitation, you felt him pick you up with ease, hands roaming up and down his back as he slammed you down onto the table, desperately pushing away all the guns and knives. How thoughtful of him. Your hands slithered under his blood red coat while he tugged at your t-shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bare breasts to him.

"No bra? Kinky." Dante stopped to take a better look at you.

"Stop talking." You firmly told him, but the chuckle that erupted from your throat betrayed you.

He was the one person you felt most comfortable around, so much so that you didn't feel weirded out by him pressing his lips onto your neck, or his fingertips bruising the plush of your hips, or his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. No, it felt natural, too natural, like your skin was made to be touched by him.

With his coat on the floor, you tackled his shirt, effectively tearing it off of him because you were just as desperate as he was, and Dante pulled your body closer to his, your clothed cunt accidentally rubbing against the bulge in his trousers. You were aching from the lack of sex, and you uncontrollably moaned at the tiny bit of friction before mumbling a weak 'sorry.'

"Fuck, don't be. That's actually kind of hot." He shamelessly admitted, and you rose a brow.

"Yeah? Then you wouldn't mind me doing it again?" You chewed on your lower lip, but he could see past the fake innocence when you rolled your hips, frantically and feverishly rubbing your clit through the layers of fabric. "Shit, I could come just from this."

For a split second, Dante wondered if this was all real. What happened to your shyness? How was it possible that his best friend, the quiet, nerdy girl he'd known for such a long time, was worse than any demon he'd ever encountered? Not that he was a saint. Far from it, because when you threw your head back, desperate to climax, his is eyes darkened, black seeping into his sclera. It should've made you afraid, but it had the opposite effect. The thought that he could activate his Devil Trigger and quite literally snap you like a twig turned you on.

"Do it, then." Dante's hand snaked behind the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. "Show me just how needy you are."

Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you fucked yourself on the half-demon, fog settling in your brain with each breath, each movement, each beating of your heart. Faster. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.

"Oh-" Any sentence you tried to utter stopped in your throat, replaced by a string of whimpers and curses. Whatever you were trying to babble was reduced to incoherent words.

"Well shit, I didn't know you were such a filthy little slut."

"Just- oh- shut up-"

"Hmm, I don't think you really want me to shut up." Dante sneered when you picked up the pace. "I think you like it when I talk like this."

"N-not true!" You yelped as he pinched your nipple, barely doing anything and yet you were a mess already.

"So, you don't want me to call you a fucktoy, then? Bet you're dripping right now. Bet you want me balls deep inside of you."

"Fuck, I'm gonna come!" You proved his point when your entire body quivered under his, mind blank and vision blurry.

"There, there." Dante pressed his lips onto your forehead. "I got you."

The noise of his belt unbuckling made you snap your eyes open, filling you with newfound desire and guilt — poor Dante, his cock was probably aching by now while you had the time of your life. He stepped back, letting his trousers pool at his feet, and you lifted your skirt to peel your panties off. You caught him staring at you, taking the sight in, and what a sight it was — locks of hair fell out of your bun, sticking to your sweaty temples, your legs still shaking from the orgasm, and your cunt dripping wet.

"I'd love to eat you out, babe, but my balls are genuinely gonna explode." He confessed, earning a giggle from you. Even with his eyes pitch black and his Devil Trigger on the verge of activating, Dante was still Dante. And you loved that about him.

"Hurry up and fuck me, then."

"Are you that desperate that you forgot your manners?" He dug his fingertips into the plush of your hips, violently pulling you closer to him.

"Please hurry up and fuck me?" You pouted.

"Good girl, that's better." Dante pushed your leg to the side with his elbow, dragging his cock up and down your slit.

You didn't get the chance to take a look at it, but the tip felt huge, so much so that you gasped, propping yourself on your elbows to see better, and you were not disappointed. In fact, you were concerned. You could not take it.

"Dante, it's not gonna fit."

He shook his head with a half-smile, finding your concern quite cute.

"I'll make it fit."

It was both a promise and a threat, but you trusted him. God, you trusted him with your life. He slowly and gently pushed the tip, your slick more than enough to lubricate his cock, but he stopped every time you looked uncomfortable to make sure you were okay.

"Tell me if it's too much."

"No, you can- it's fine, keep going." You closed your eyes, the discomfort causing you to clench around him instead of relaxing, which made Dande forget how to breathe or think.

But the worst came to a halt when he was fully in, stopping briefly to allow you to accommodate to the size. Your breathing went back to normal soon enough, and the last ounce of pain in your body was swiftly replaced by a surge of electricity when Dante moved, slowly and softly rolling his hips, unable to abstain any longer. And you didn't want him to when his cock filled you up so good, reaching places you didn't even know existed inside of your body. Your fingernails dug into his back, clawing at his skin with desperation and impatience, like you needed more than what he was already giving you.

"See? I told you I’ll make it fit. And you take me so well." Dante said, dragging his mouth over your neck, your scent overloading his senses.

But it just wasn't enough. No matter how painful, you wanted it-

"Harder."

Assertive, demanding, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he pulled back to look at you, as if not believing your request.

"A minute ago, you were wriggling in pain, now you want it harder?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "I want it harder, faster, please-"

You were shushed by two digits forcing open your mouth, and you instinctively wrapped your lips around them, sucking obediently.

"You talk too much." He gave you a taste of your own medicine. "Should've known you were just a dumb little cocksleeve."

The degrading words caused you to moan and drool around his fingers, tears welling up in your eyes. Each thrust had you clench tighter, the tip of his ridiculously large cock punishing your cervix. Pain and pleasure bubbled inside of you, sparking through your body as Dante practically ripped his fingers from your mouth, only to wrap them around your throat. He was a hungry man, and you were dinner — arching your back to get closer, deeper, you fucked yourself on his cock with his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, and he revelled in your worship.

"Shit, you like it when it hurts, don't you?" He whispered, squeezing harder while you nodded eagerly. "Of course you do."

Of course you did. How could you not when he fucked you so good that your dignity and modesty were long forgotten? When Dante stripped you of your decency to bring out the worst in you? You felt your second orgasm build up, causing you to twitch under him, eyes rolling back as you slipped your hands under his arms, holding on for dear life.

"Again- gonna come again, Dante! Fuck!"

"Atta girl." He held your quivering body, his own hips stuttering, brutally thrusting into you with raw, animalistic passion.

You came undone on his cock, fingers carding through his hair, pushing away white locks to look at his pretty eyes while his arm slithered under your lower back to both support you and bring you closer to him. Dante was close, his throbbing cock still stretching your sore cunt out. He bucked his hips, splitting you open while you latched your arms around his neck, tits pressed against his chest and your lips ghosting over his earlobe.

"Almost there, babe." Dante promised. "You're doing so well." He pulled back, nearly on edge, but you squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

"Don't pull out." You demanded, and that was enough to help him reach enlightenment.

He filled you up, and when he did pull out, watching his cum slowly leak out of you, you could've sworn he whispered 'marry me' under his breath. Surely it was just the brain fog, or the post-orgasm high. Your whole body was numb, and you stumbled into Dante's arms when you tried to get down from the table, muscles sore and aching.

"You wanna get pizza?" He nonchalantly asked, as if he didn't just fuck his best friend.

"I- shouldn't we talk about this?" You avoided looking into his eyes, opting to stare at the floor instead.

"About what?"

God, he was either insufferably oblivious or remarkably good at pretending.

"Us." You sighed.

"What's there to talk about?" Dante's fingers found your chin, and he gently lifted it up, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't make this harder for me, please. You know things won’t be the same now. We’re not in a relationship and-"

"I don't follow." Confusion was written all over his face. "Do you not want to be my girlfriend?"

"Girl- I- hold up, what? Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" You tilted your head, baffled by his question, because of course you wanted to. You just never had the guts to admit that you like him. It was even more shocking that he liked you back. Wasn’t this all just a one-time thing?

"I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious when I fucked you. What, you thought I nut and dip? That I shoot a load and go back on the road? That I cum n go?"

"Wow, please never use those euphemisms ever again." You cringed at his words, trying your best to hide the smile that crept on your lips.

"Christ, babe, you know I don't do one-night stands unless I’m really desperate. And here I thought you were my best friend. Guess I was wrong." Dante gasped, dramatically feigning offence by placing a hand on his chest.

"I’m not your best friend anymore." You said, voice serious and cold, and his charade was quickly replaced by actual worry and offence. "I'm your girlfriend now. And your best friend."

"Okay, I was genuinely concerned. Fuck you." He flipped you off and you sneered.

"You already did."

"Wait, that's my line!"

"Skill issue."

[muntitled]

Boa

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're just a kid, caught in a gangster’s crosshairs. What happens when you don’t deliver like you should…

Warnings: Language, Dom!Seongje, Gangsterism, Bullied!Reader, Coercion, Bullying, Extortion, Mentions of Rape, Smut +18 (mdni), Dark fic, Dubious consent, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Desperate Sex, Humiliation, Degradation

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume. I wrote this for me so...

Ever since you've started working for him, you've learned to get extremely acquainted with the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir…” your voice is brittle as you try to make yourself heard in the suffocating internet cafe, “I'm short on delivery today..."

Hardwood. Tile. Linoleum. It's become all too familiar to you. The floor is all you see in his presence.

You never looked Seongje in the eyes unless he addresses you first. He likes that, you suspect.

It's kept you alive this long so you must be doing something right.

"I got assigned a kid to tutor and..." you clear your throat, not daring to make direct eye contact, choosing instead, to keep your eyes trained on the dirty, cold floor.

The internet cafe is the very last place you'd want to be on a Friday evening. You were caught right in between two challenging essay due dates- one for English and one for AP English. Both hung gravley over your head, threatening to set off your sympathetic nervous system and have you fainting from academic stress. Seeing him was the very last thing you needed.

"That tutoring time fucked with my system and-" despite all your achievements, despite the academic prestige and the boundless knowledge… in Seongje's presence you feel insignificant.

A bug he's letting scurry around for no other reason except his enjoyment. You didn't want to get stomped on. You saw what happened to the other kids under his thumb and it kept you up at night. All that blood. All the merciless sadism.

You aren't dumb enough to hope an exception would be made for you.

"I'm sorry,” you conclude, and for a second, you get no response. He plays his game. His friends remain silent.

That's all until he pushes the bridge of his glasses up further against his nose. A calm, quiet sigh leaves his lips.

“Before you started working for me, do you know what you were?" Seongje doesn't take his eyes off the screen. His fingers run deftly over the keys as he speaks to you without ever really acknowledging you, "You were in an alleyway, about to get raped by Eunjang scum."

"Yes, Seongje, I know-"

"And in return for my kindness, what did I ask of you?"

"FUCK- COVER ME BRO!" Your eye snaps up to the source of the loud and sudden burst of energy. Your frightened and pitiful eyes find a boy seated adjacent to Seongje and his goons. He's bent over his screen, clearly not a part of the group. Clearly far too young.

Your heart sinks when you realize Seongje's eyes are trained on the boy too.

"Ya…” Seongje raises his voice a decimal above the cacophony yet it has you flinching. “Too loud,” he says to the boy, “Didn’t anyone teach you shut up when adults are talking?” he asks monotonously to the boy- a child really- still mourning the loss of his avatar on the screen. He doesn't pay Seongje any mind.

Of course he doesn't. He's a kid.

How could he have known?

He came to an internet cafe to play a game with his friends.

It's the boy's innocence that hurts the most.

He doesn't know that the monsters under his bed are very real.

They walk where he walks.

They don't hide.

They move about freely.

Your heart makes like the titanic and sinks.

"Excuse me for a second." Seongje addresses you politely, finally giving you a fleeting glance before pushing himself out of his gamer chair. You see his entire row of friends (if that's what one could even refer to them as) remain unfazed as Seongje rounds the table to stand directly behind the young boy.

He’s bigger, far bigger as he pushes the rims of his glasses up, staring directly at you

"I know you're smart so you're probably aware that your fuck-up won't be tolerated-” he says to you, despite slithering his arm around the boys neck like a boa as he squeezes. Everyone keeps their eyes trained to their computers. Your fist curls at your side. You want to look away but you can't because you're speaking to Seongje. You wouldn't want to aggravate him further by showing him his mindlessly violence bothers you. So you try not to flinch.

You try not to let the casual violence scare you. How nonchalantly he speaks while an elementary school boy flails in his arms, begging to be released from the headlock making his lips turn blue

“You knew there'd be a punishment,” Seongje is still speaking to you. You hold your breathe in solidarity with the boy choking in his arms, “-for fucking up your delivery-” crimson blossoms onto the little boys face but Seongje keeps his eyes on you, appearing unfazed by the boy flailing like an animal in arms, "And yet you came anyway. That's the kinda work ethic, I like-” he smiles, “I like it alot-"

Eventually, after what feels like forever, he lets go of the boy. You finally breathe as well, watching as the kid slumps forward ingesting the air in horrid gasps.

Seongje bends forward, patting the boy on the back.

"No more interrupting when I speak, yeah?" Whether the boy was new to this particular internet cafe, it was unclear, but you hoped to whatever divine being that he wouldn't dare come back.

"So I'll let it slide-" He turns his attention back to you and you watch, still shaken up as Seongje leaves the little boy to make his way back to his side of the table. When he breezes past you he smells like nothing. Like his eyes, everything about him is empty.

"Thank you, Seongje-"

He nods before adding, "After you get on your knees." The goon sitting nearest to you, all the way at the end of the table, his fingers hover over the keys, and just like before, the room is rid of all air.

"Excuse me?”

He pulls out his chair for you, like some mimic of a perfect gentleman he opens his arm, gesturing you in.

"I want you on your knees, under the desk.” His words hang above you all. It has tears threatening to spill. Bile rising.

“What’s with the face? Its not like I’m asking you to suck my dick,”

"Seongje, I need to get home-"

"If you can't do it yourself I'm more than happy to help."

That has your legs moving into action. In your periphery, it feels as though everyone's watching you. A thing in psychology called the imaginary audience. When you're so self-conscious you concoct this idea of being the center of attention… only this time, it's real. You know they're all watching you. You know no one will do anything about it.

"Under the desk you go," he chuckles before sitting down and pushing his chair back in. You back away, creating intense distance between you. Your back hits dirty wires and your knees press hesitantly down onto the grime just to achieve a more comfortable position. Everything you see is his legs, his friends legs and you're suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to cry.

You want to scream at him to let you go. He's hijacked you from your endless pile of homework and yet the very thought of standing up for yourself causes a sea of nausea.

So you sit there in the dark, not knowing when this punishment would conclude. When would he let you go home? That sends you into another spiral. You've heard Seongje could game for 24 hours straight. Maybe more if he was in close vicinity to food and a bathroom. You knew this internet cafe would close eventually, that gives you the smallest sliver of hope and so you do your time.

Never once does he acknowledge you- the girl under his desk. Unbeknownst to Seongje, you catch one of his fellow gang members sneak multiple glances at you under the table. They all do. Like they enjoy seeing you under here. As time passes, and you slip further and further away from the stress, you realize that down here, on the floor, under his desk, the world is small. It's quite comforting actually and that wasn't the trauma talking.

You've always liked small spaces.

It definitely beat dealing with whatever he had going on up there half the time.

Slowly, your body begins to shut down. Your energy plummets from all the stress and all the thoughts. This is the first time you've been forced into a spot for too long doing nothing. No essays. No tutoring.

Due to tendencies from your childhood that you should've gotten rid of, you find yourself curling up against his leg. He stiffens and you snap out of the exhaustion long enough to reel back. Especially when you see his hand reach under the table. Your heart hammers in your chest, not a single word spoken as his hand searches for something. You move a bit closer until his hand catches on your hair. You wince as he drags you closer, pushing your head against his leg as you had done.

He leaves you there. You try to regulate your breathing as you feel him adjust in his seat above you.

You shift as well. Not your head. He clearly wants you there. But your legs are uncomfortable. You try to kneel and it's ridiculous because your head never leaves his leg.

No position seems comfortable enough until he stretches his leg out, right in between yours and you're made to straddle it. Above you, his fingers are still hitting the keys and you try to disassociate from the fact that his leg is pushing against your cunt. You try to sneak a peek at the surface, his glasses are trained on the screen. Not knowing whether it's your exhaustion making a reappearance but you could've sworn you hear the words, "good girl," release from him in a low drawl.

Something in his tone has you shifting over his leg. Your cunt warms against his leg and you fight the urge to buck against him. All you had to do was remember who it is that you're currently touching. That conscious reminder has you once again hellbent on doing your time with concrete resolve.

That resolve breaks.

It shatters when he eases his back against the chair, enough to once again slither his hand down towards you.

He curls his fist into your hair and tugs.

He pushes you down and lifts you up and you mindlessly follow his movements until you realize he's coaxed you into riding his leg.

He lets go of your hair, satisfied when your hips move out of their own accord.

You hate how good it feels to quite literally be beneath him. You look up and you whimper oh so quietly when you see that small smile play on his lips while his eye remains on the screen.

He's given you new instructions now and so you don't dare to stop moving your hips against him. Despite the damp spot forming on the seat of your underwear. You're not sure what it is that allows you to lose yourself so easily. Perhaps it's all the expectations that melt away when you're doing something so pitiful. You're breaking for him and he's letting you. You're not in control of anything and there's freedom in that.

“F-Fuck-” you didnt mean for the words to slip. There are still other people here but you also couldn't help the wave of pleasure that pushed up so suddenly. Your clit is moving against the fabric of his pants just right and your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head.

The second that whimper escapes your mouth, he stiffens again.

You watch as he leans back again, this time his hand isn't reaching out for you. It's to ghost over the bulge forming in his pants. Somehow that spurs you on more.

You grind against him desperately and before he can take his hand away, this time you reach up for him.

You watch him closely. The glare from the screen reflects on his glasses. His jaw, tight.

He controls the game easily with one hand, while you bring the other into your mouth.

You're not sure where this other side of you came from. This vixen who rolls her tongue out and forces his index and ring finger into her warm mouth.

He becomes more and more restless… His breath hitching. Seongje's fingers hit the keys more aggressively, while his right hand forces his fingers further down your throat. His hips buck upwards and you can see the damp spot forming where his cock is straining against his pants. He's about to cum in his pants and you're about to cum on his leg and it's far too much for you.

You know his friends are about. You try to preserve even a sliver of dignity but it all goes out the window.

“Fuck-” he spits out, slamming his fist on the table before abandoning the game. There's a fire in his eyes as he sits back to watch you peer up at him with complete and utter desperation.

“What a fucking slut-” he snarled, cleaely audible enough for not only him but his friends too. It has your mouth snapping open. Your back arches as you try to watch him watching you cum on his leg.

You've never held his attention for this long and it sends you off the edge.

“S-Seongje-” you barely squeak out as your cunt spasms against his leg. You rut uncontrollably, spurred on by the name That fell from your lips as if your body needed a reminder of just who it was making you cum. Your tormentor.

It has you seeing stars.

For all of 11 seconds.

Until it comes crashing down on you. Your pitiful act has you reeling. Mind spinning.

You don't want to look up at him but you have nowhere else to look. Your heart sinks when you see a smile form slowly across his lips… Somehow you knew you'd never be rid of him.

[stockyardsyndrome]

I was gonna put this in the tags, but it was getting long, so fuck it, here we go. Just my semi-relevant rambling.

When people ask for languages that are easy to learn, a lot of the time they're looking for a language that is "simple". And yeah, that makes sense, because the idea that some languages are "more simple" (or "more ugly") than others is still such a widespread thing. But the only way that works is if language supremacy and bigotry (racism, ableism, etc) are also still a fundamental part of the public consciousness. So that's upsetting.

I'm about to finish undergrad with a major in linguistics, and the number of times these arguments have apparently had to play out in respected academic spheres is also legitimately distressing. Like, you come into a linguistics class and on day one they tell you: Rule #1: be descriptive, not prescriptive and Rule #2: every natural language is equally complex and valid and no language is better or worse than any other. Because keep in mind, historically people calling another language simpler or less complex than their own were trying to say that the people who spoke that language were less intelligent or civilized (though sometimes they went the opposite way and tried to portray another language as being unnecessarily complicated, but still with the same goal of proving their own language was superior).

So then you read the historical documents of (attempted) linguistics and find some racist nonsense and you think okay, glad we got rid of all that.

And then you read some more modern stuff and find out that no, it's all still here.

Here's a list of shockingly recent bad takes I've come across, from published experts and respected professionals (and some of my classmates), in no particular order (and please if someone who knows more could correct me on stuff I get wrong, that would be great because I'm not digging any of these documents back up just to make sure my nonsense Tumblr rant is 100% accurate)

1. "Creoles (languages that are usually a mix of a European colonizer's language and the languages of the locals or slaves they ruled over) are simpler than the languages they came from" No they really aren't

2. "Creoles are just a version of the lexifier language (usually the European language) than has been simplified enough that the speakers of the substrate languages (usually the non-European languages) can understand it" sir are you perhaps a time traveler from 17th century Europe

3. "Okay maybe creoles aren't simpler, but pidgins are" again, no, also I'm gonna need you to define "pidgin" in a way that doesn't assume unequal levels of complexity and also doesn't rely on "data" collected by slave traders

4. "Sign languages are less-" NO.

5. "-complex because they're just gestures-" who tf do you know that is able to have entire arguments about complex topics like philosophy or biology or whatever entirely through gesture

6. "-and are more basic and universal because they're mostly iconic"  if signs were actually mostly iconic, you would be able to understand sign languages without being taught. Also, being iconic doesn't mean it's not complex, and doesn't mean it's universal. See also: onomatopoeia

7. "That whole idea about all natural languages having equal complexity is just a truism" if that were the case, we wouldn't have to keep having this argument

8. "Equality of language isn't proven" well it sure as shit hasn't been disproven. We have tons of evidence for it, and the only evidence against it comes from racists and religious fanatics, which makes it about as well-proven as the theory of evolution at this point

9. "Certain phonemes are objectively too difficult for an entire population to waste time learning to produce" yes, and those are the phonemes that no language uses. If it's in a natural language, then it's not too hard to produce, it's just hard for you because you didn't learn it as a kid

10. "Certain languages (or aspects of them) are just objectively ugly" so are you, but apparently your mama didn't think you were ugly enough to eradicate. For real though, you might have a couple phonemes or rhythms you just personally find less attractive, but none of them are universal. The rest you've been culturally conditioned to dislike

11. "Information density is potentially a good measure of efficiency" information density is a good measure of information density. Hope this helps

12. "All languages are valid... Except French, hahaha!" *Heavy sigh*

Idk man. I just wish people would stop trying to be bigots about language, because I study language because it's beautiful and intricate (but yes also terrible and will kick you in the nuts) and I love them all.

Also, I would like to join the very-large-fish brigade. Minority languages are cool. Be nice to them. Learn them if you're lucky enough to get a chance.

Here’s how to tell if a language is easy to learn

None of them are easy

They’re all stupid and terrible and will kick you in the nuts

That being said

Languages similar to ones you already speak

Languages you have a lot of motivation to learn

Languages that have a lot of resources and media to watch and/or listen to and/or read

So, if you’re reading this with relative ease (aka you speak English fluently) probably French or Spanish

Do whatever you want though idk

Don’t just choose a language based on how easy it is

Unless that’s what it takes to keep you motivated idk

Go learn Frisian or something

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Hiiii! Could u maybe write for skz being in a secret relationship (like secret from the public cause reader ain’t an idol) and getting caught by paparazzi during a date? U can just make 3racha pls if u don’t feel like doing all 8 ! Feel free to refuse too ofc! I loved your Spotify wrapped hcs btw! Seungmin’s was so funny! 😆

I made them reaction bullet points! But if you guys like them then I'm totally up to making them into longer fics!!

Stray Kids | Secret Relationship → Getting Caught by Paparazzi

Bangchan

Chan is so careful usually.

Dates are always super lowkey - private cafes, quiet beaches at night, movie nights at home.

But today was your birthday, and he wanted to do something special.

He rented out a tiny rooftop restaurant just for the two of you, candles, flowers, the whole thing.

Everything was going fine...until you both laughed too hard at a joke and he leaned across the table to kiss you.

Flash.

Click click click.

Both of you froze mid-kiss like-

🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️...

Chan immediately tensed and went into protective mode, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the ledge.

He spends the rest of the night furious at himself, feeling like he failed to protect you.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful, baby, I’m so sorry…”

You have to literally cup his cheeks and remind him that you knew the risks from the start, and you still chose him.

Later when the photos surface, they’re actually really sweet and respectful - the caption is like: “Bang Chan spotted in sweet rooftop date - fans speculate he’s in a relationship.”

His company releases a statement saying they won’t comment on private matters, and surprisingly, most people are supportive.

In the end, the incident kinda soft-launches your relationship 💛.

Lee Know

Lee Know thinks he's a secret agent.

Always plans escape routes. Dresses down. Times everything.

“Trust no one. Speak to no one. Blend into the crowd.”

But you went out for bubble tea one afternoon, and he just couldn’t resist teasing you.

He poked your straw when you weren’t looking, got your drink all over your shirt, and then tried to "help" wipe it off.

You were laughing and swatting at him, and he kissed your forehead without thinking.

Flash.

😐😐😐

Minho freezes.

“Did you see that?”

“...Yes.”

“Abort mission. Run.”

Grabs your hand and books it through side streets like a literal action movie.

Later, when the photos go viral, they’re weirdly cute - you’re laughing, he’s looking at you with soft eyes, and fans are melting.

He doesn’t say anything publicly, but a few days later, he posts a dance video wearing a shirt that says “Not Sorry.” 😎

Changbin

Changbin is PARANOID about getting caught.

He wears hats, masks, sometimes even sunglasses at night.

He’ll make you walk separately in public and only link up when it’s super empty.

But today, he was feeling bold.

You were walking by the river, and he just couldn’t help it - he grabbed your hand.

You warned him. He didn’t listen. He was too busy smiling at you like an idiot in love.

Then:

Click click click click.

Changbin drops your hand and looks around like a scared puppy.

“Was that what I think it was-”

“Yes.”

“@$#%&.”

He immediately pulls you into a side street, calling his manager with one hand while trying to shield you with the other.

“I think we have a problem.”

Despite his panic, you kinda find it cute how protective he gets, constantly glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re okay.

The photos blow up fast - he’s recognizable even under the hat and mask because of his build.

Surprisingly, the fans argue that he deserves to be happy and start trending “#HappyForChangbin.” 🥹

He won’t relax until you both sit down and personally go over every nasty comment and good comment together, promising to only listen to the good ones.

“They don’t know our love, jagiya. Only we know. That’s enough.” 💌

Hyunjin

You were museum-hopping for your date - very chill, very lowkey.

Hyunjin wore glasses and a mask, blending in as just another artsy boy admiring sculptures.

You thought you were in the clear.

Then you reached to point at a painting at the same time and your hands touched.

Hyunjin looked at you, smiled all dreamy, and brushed your hair behind your ear like a damn movie scene.

THAT’S when the paparazzo got you.

Flash.

Hyunjin didn’t even flinch, he just kind of...blinked and kept smiling.

“Let’s keep going. Pretend nothing happened.”

(Internally he was PANICKING.)

Later he has a minor meltdown about it, pacing and chewing on his sleeve.

“WHAT IF THEY FIND YOU? WHAT IF THEY HARASS YOU? I SHOULD’VE BEEN MORE CAREFUL!”

You calm him down with forehead kisses and pinky promises.

The photo goes viral because it’s just so beautiful - you two look like characters out of a romance drama.

Fans nicknamed you “Hyunjin’s Mona Lisa.” 🎨🖌️

Han Jisung

Jisung is...not careful. Like at all. 😭

Like, he tries - really he does - but his excitement always gives him away.

You two went on a simple late-night drive, windows down, singing along to whatever’s on the radio.

You driving of course since the chubby cheeked boy still had yet to get his license.

You pulled over to a convenience store to grab snacks,

When he came back with a pile of candy and two hot coffees, he opened the drivers door and buckled you in as if you were sitting in the passenger seat.

After making sure you were secured he shut the door, and leaned into the car window and kissed you.

Like full-on swoon-worthy type of thing.

…Right in front of a paparazzo who was tailing idols that night.

FLASH.

You both screamed. Like actually screamed.

Jisung dropped everything he was holding, candy and coffee flying into the air. ☕🍬

“RUN!” he shrieked, diving into the passenger seat as you two sped off like a maniacs while you gasped laughing in the drivers seat.

Later, he’s freaking out. But tries to cover it up with joking.

“Do you think they got my good side?” (You smack his arm.)

The photos come out with the caption "Mystery lover? Han spotted on late night date!"

The company tries to spin it as “just hanging out with a friend,” but nobody buys it because of the kiss photo LOL.

In the end, you two have to lay low for a while, but honestly, Jisung just jokes about it constantly.

“If I’m gonna get caught, at least it was a kiss that looked straight out of a K-drama, am I right?” 💋

Felix

Honestly?

Felix would straight up take you on a nature walk for your dates.

Forests, hidden parks, lakes - anywhere with sunshine and minimal people.

You were sitting by a lake one afternoon, feeding ducks, and he kissed your cheek.

A photographer hiding in the bushes (like a weirdo) got the shot.

(Felix: 🫠)

(You: 🫠)

He immediately covers your face with his hands in the CUTEST protective way.

“Stay still, baby, don’t look, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Back at home, he hugs you and promises it’ll be okay no matter what happens.

“If they hate me, it’s fine. If they hate you, it’s war.”

The fandom goes wild, but mostly in support because...well...it’s Felix...

Even people who don’t stan Stray Kids are like, “If Felix found love we’re all cheering for him.” 😭

Seungmin

Seungmin is sneaky with dates.

Like, coffee shop hidden inside a bookstore levels of sneaky.

But today, you convinced him to just do something normal - ice cream at a park.

You were eating together on a bench, Seungmin roasting you for dropping your scoop.

“Are you five years old?”

“You’re gonna be single if you keep talking.”

He laughed, leaned in, and kissed your sticky nose.

You heard a camera shutter.

Both of you paused.

Seungmin squinted at the photographer like 🧐.

“You dropped your scoop and got us caught. Great job, genius.”

(He’s teasing. But he’s freaking out inside.)

Later when the pictures come out, Seungmin’s fans are laughing because he looks so deadpan in every photo.

Someone even memes it:

Caption: "When you drop your ice cream... and the fact you're in a relationship, too." 🍦😅🍦😂

I.N

Jeongin is careful because he’s still the “baby” to a lot of fans.

But he really wanted to take you to the little zoo near the city.

He wore a hat so low it almost covered his eyes, mask up to his nose, hoodie two sizes too big.

Adorable.

He was so focused on making sure you were comfortable he didn’t even realize a paparazzo had been tailing you guys.

The moment that got caught?

You feeding him a french fry outside a food stall.

Jeongin holding your hand to guide the fry into his mouth.

Giggles and hearts in your eyes.

The flash that the paparrazzo had forgoten to shut off startled you two.

Jeongin dropped the fries in horror.

You were more worried about the wasting of the fries more than anything else.

Panic.exe.

Later he’s apologizing over and over, voice so soft and guilty:

“It’s okay if you wanna break up with me...I get it…” 😔

(You bonk him on the head, lovingly of course.)

Turns out the fans think it’s the cutest thing ever.

“Our maknae is growing up 😭💖.”

Jeongin turns bright pink every time someone mentions it for the next month.

You say he owes you a large fry.

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

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

[baby-yongbok]

Like a good boy - Bang Chan Hard Thought

⤷ WC - 0.2k ⤷ CW - sub!bang chan x dom!reader, slightly hard dom? Slightly. ⤷ Chan tries to be a good boy while taking your strap. ⤷ a/n - I'm posting this at 2:35am, from my phone, half asleep. I just wrote this. Sorry if the format is shit. I'll fix it in the morning. Enjoy ♡

He’s wrecked.

Sweat-soaked hair sticking to his forehead, mouth hanging open in a silent cry, his whole body trembling with the effort of not coming without permission.

His cock is leaking all over his stomach, untouched, painfully hard, twitching every time you grind in deep.

You don’t let up.

You grab his jaw, force his glassy, tear-drenched eyes to meet yours, slowing your hips to a brutal, punishing pace that has him shuddering under you.

“You’re gonna take my strap like a good boy, yeah?” you growl, voice so dark it borders on cruel. “Gonna come only when I tell you to?”

He’s sobbing now — not because he’s hurt, but because he’s so fucking desperate it’s breaking him.

“Yes—yes, please, please, please—” he chokes, thighs shaking, trying so hard to be still even as his whole body screams for release.

You slap his cheek lightly — just enough to make his head jerk — and his cock jumps again, like he could come from that alone.

“Words, Chan,” you hiss against his ear, thrusting deep and sharp until he keens like a wounded thing. “Who do you belong to? Whose cock is this?”

You take his length in your hand, teasing the leaky head and Chan nearly chokes. His abdomen tenses, his lips part and he mewls.

“You—you—only you—fuck—” he cries out, voice raw, begging without shame, wrecked in the most beautiful, broken way.

“Good boy,” you purr. “Now be even better — and hold it.”

He lets out a shattered, wrecked noise, nodding frantically, knuckles white where he grips the sheets like a lifeline. His whole body trembles under your control, teetering right on the knife's edge — exactly where you want him.

Then you move your hips again.

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[heavyhitterheaux]

Make Me

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Just as every other argument in the Burrow household, it ends with you telling your husband to "make you."

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Tensions were still high in the Burrow household because of an argument that had taken place mere hours before. Your husband was currently getting the silent treatment from you as well as an occasional eye roll here and there any time he said something.

It was getting closer to ten at night and it was a known fact that in this particular household, no one goes to bed angry or mad at their significant other. It was a rule that you two had established once the engagement ring was placed on your finger by Joe.

All you wanted to do was go to sleep, but you had to get past your husband in order to be able to do it and he was currently staring right at you.

Noticing this, you once again rolled your eyes and asked him what his problem was.

“Why are you in my face? Take a picture, it lasts longer.” You told him as you went back to playing on your phone.

“You still have that attitude I see.”

“I wouldn’t have it if my husband would listen to me. All I'm going to do is ask you over and over again. If your answer is no, I'll keep repeating myself because obviously you didn't hear me the first time. But now I'm finished asking. I've been doing it for literally two weeks.”

“Too fucking spoiled for your own good. If I tell you no, it's obviously for a good reason. And I never actually told you no! I hardly ever tell you no! I said not right now since I had so many things to do. When did you actually hear me tell you that my answer was no?”

“And WHOSE fault is that!? And no is not in my vocabulary. I don't know what that word means so it doesn't matter. You probably said it and I blocked you out.” You replied as Joe sighed while making a face at you.

“We aren't going to bed until we fix this and you lose that attitude. Because it's unnecessary at this point. We can still do both.”

“Not on the same day and the same time! My attitude stays until you fix that part.”

“Well it's going to be a long night then for the both of us. It's not like I can cancel this, its been planned for months.”

“Hmph.” Was all you said in response as you curled yourself tighter into your Bengals blanket.

“Baby, come here.”

“No. Don't try to sweet talk me. I just divorced you for five minutes. I'll let you know when your time is up and we're married again.”

“Why do you have to do all this? We can do both.”

“Joseph Lee, I will give you THREE seconds to reword that sentence. I have been asking you for two weeks to go to this restaurant and when you finally told me yes, I booked the reservation only for you to have an event on the SAME day and at the SAME time. THAT YOU KNEW ABOUT AND FAILED TO TELL ME.”

“Princess, I'm sorry. It was an honest mistake and I'm going to make it up to you. Now bring your spoiled ass over here. We're both tired and don't have time for this.”

“You still have three minutes until we're married again.”

“I'm only going to ask you one more time.”

“Come over here and make me because I'm not moving.” As soon as those words left your mouth, your eyes went wide as Joe raised his eyebrow at you.

“Uh oh.” You quietly said underneath your breath as you saw the look on his face.

“What did you say to me, Mrs. Burrow? I didn't quite hear you.” Joe asked as he got up from the couch opposite of you.

He was towering above you after three strides and was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, so we're quiet now? What happened to all that mouth you had before?”

“Two minutes.”

“Fuck all that. Repeat what you said.” He told you while still peering down at you.

“I will kick you in the forehead if you don't get away from me. And you know I'm flexible and can get my leg that high. One minute and thirty seconds.”

Joe grabbed his phone out of his pocket and opened up his clock to the timer and set it for one minute and thirty seconds as the two of you were having a stare down.

As soon as the timer went off, he promptly ripped the Bengals blanket off of you and threw you over his shoulder as you let out a yelp and a protest to put you down.

“Hey! Put me down!” You said as you were dangling.

“No.” Was the simple answer you got as Joe started climbing the stairs.

“It seems like you only listen when I'm in you so if it has to be like that then so be it.”

“Keep your dick away from me. I'm still pissed enough that I'll bite it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

The only response you gave was slapping his butt as hard as you could which made him stop halfway up the stairs.

“Oh, so that's how you want to play?”

“Don't know what you're talking about, Burrow. I'm innocent and you are now holding me hostage.”

“You are not hardly innocent and be careful what you wish for because I will tie you up and really be holding you hostage as I make you cum over and over again.” He told you as he gave your ass a slap in return making you hit his back.

He continued to walk up the stairs and once the two of you were finally in your bedroom, he gently threw you onto the bed and you sat on the edge of it as Joe stood in between your legs and leaned down to kiss you.

“Mrs. Burrow?”

“Yes?” You replied as you gazed up at your husband.

“Strip.”

[oopbangtan]

Astrology Observations pt. 5

Hey guys!! I know it has been a while, but I actually got to know a shit ton of people in the last months. So I do have some fresh observations 👀

Please remember to take everything with a grain of salt because an aspect you have can manifest itself slightly differently based on other aspects you might have in your chart or the house the aspect is in! These are only some things I've noticed in my years of existence.

Aquarius rising and even aquarius sun people tend to have one specific feature that makes them so uniquely beautiful. It seems to me that those people usually manage to make some not so common features look absolutely stunning!! They might actually be insecure about the thing that makes them stand out, but God, don't they make them look amazing...

Everyone is set on Scorpio placements and 8th house placements for being stalkers. Have any of you witnessed a Virgo that's interested? Or at least slightly intrigued? They might not show it when they see you in person, but a Virgo mercury/ mars WILL stalk you. They will want to see more and try to figure you out in some way. This might apply to Virgo venues too, but I am quite sure about Virgo mars and mercury. Yes, even the men. Especially the men, actually.

Gemini venus men are very possesive? They absolutely hate the fact that you might entertain someone else while talking to them. They could still be talking to all their exes, have another 3 talking stages at the same time as you two are talking, but how dare YOU do that to them. I have a theory that they lowkey want someone who would crash out over them, be jealous af, but it might just be bcs they're men, not because they're a gemini venus ))

libra moon people love teasing. some playful jokes, maybe a little bit of sarcasm in there, too

evolved leo placements will treat anyone that's close to them like family. they truly can be so warm and affectionate, but if it isn't reciprocated, they will get cold as time goes by

a Capricorn moon/ venus will NOT chase you, especially if you weren't that close to begin with. I'm not saying they don't care about rejection. They just won't... embarrass themselves like that. They can be loyal individuals, but attachment takes quite some time for them.

That's it for now! I have seen some very beautiful comments, and I would like to thank you for all your support and appreciation 🫶

[valeisaslut]

i'm making a collide pinterest board based on collide cause i'm obsessed, and i'm doing sections for every album. do you have a name/aesthetic for readers debut album, or is that all up to us :3

AHHH THIS IS SO CUTE OMG first of all, i’m genuinely honored you’re making a collide board, i could sob. second — YES, i can totally give you the vibe i imagined for reader’s debut!!

COLLIDE POPSTAR!READER'S DEBUT ALBUM:

in the collide au, reader’s debut album is canonically called "diary of a disaster."

it’s the album that exploded after she won the voice — the one that took her from "talented winner of a singing competition" to "america’s sweetheart" and "pop princess."

she’s young, barely 19. she’s reckless. she’s in love, she’s pissed off, she’s messy, she’s magnetic. this debut feels like a diary someone ripped open and read under a disco ball — the confessions are too loud, too raw, but also too good to look away from.

its super 2000s inspired (and yep. people compared you to early britney spears all the time.) synths that sparkle and crackle like electricity, basslines that feel like heart palpitations, vocals (her baby voice aww) dripping with desperation and sugar all at once. it's pop music that knows it's pop music — but it's self-aware, slightly unhinged, a little dangerous.

lyrics like i love you. i hate you. i want you. i don’t need you. come back. don’t you dare come back. full of contradictions — and that’s the point. it’s the soundtrack of someone figuring out who they are while breaking their own heart a little along the way.

the lead singles (click to listen):

୨ৎ “make me like you”

୨ৎ“my attitude”

୨ৎ "deja vu"

୨ৎ "teenage dream"

this is before the reader we know now — before all the scandals, the grammy kisses, the tabloid chaos. this is when she was still trying to be "good," still wrapping barbed wire in pink bows. but even here, there’s something a little too wild in her smile. something that says i want everything, and i’ll burn for it if i have to.

people say now it’s one of the most chaotic and genuine debut albums of its generation. it’s still the blueprint for her career. diary of a disaster wasn't just an album—it was a warning. one nobody listened to.

(ellie has the original vinyl in her LA apartment. signed. stolen. not returned. she says your baby teenager voice is the cutest thing she has ever heard.)

is it TOO obvious i had this all planned and i was just waiting for someone to bring it up orrrr

ALSO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND THE PINTEREST BOARD WHEN YOU FINISH IT PLS PLS PLS I NEED ITTTTTTTTTTT

[cameronsbabydoll]

Scc! Rafe ever notice how depressed and lonely his wife is? Does he ever think how she is still a young woman who didn’t get enjoy her life bc he trapped her? She doesn’t have any friends, anywhere to go, nobody she can talk to etc does he ever try to do anything to make her happy and not feel so lonely? If he truly loves her, he wouldn’t want to her to regret marrying him, right?

yes — rafe notices.

he’s not oblivious to how sad and isolated his wife is.

he sees it in the way she moves around the house — quieter, smaller, less like the bright, soft girl he first locked down.

he notices how she hesitates when he asks for a kiss. how she never picks up the phone anymore because there’s no one to call. how she looks out the window too long, like she’s somewhere else in her head.

and it bothers him. deeply.

but he doesn't respond to it in a healthy or self-aware way.

instead of thinking:

"i hurt her. i took away too much. i need to let her breathe."

his brain twists it into:

"she’s unhappy because she doesn’t understand how good she has it."

"she's lonely because other people would hurt her, not like me."

"she just needs me to love her harder, keep her closer."

so even though he truly loves her, it’s a selfish, possessive kind of love — not a freeing love.

he doesn’t want her to regret being with him, no — but instead of fixing the real problem (her isolation), he tries to paper over it by spoiling her:

buying her expensive things

insisting they have more babies to "fill the house"

pulling her closer when she looks sad, like he is the cure

he doesn’t understand that he is the problem.

to answer the heart of your question:

does rafe ever try to make her happy?

yes — but only in ways that keep her tied to him.

he might plan a date night.

he might randomly take her on a trip — somewhere remote, somewhere only with him.

he might bring home a new car, or jewelry, or fancy clothes.

he might kiss her forehead and murmur:

"i'm gonna take care of you forever, baby. you don’t need anybody but me."

but he never really gives her back the things he stole — her freedom, her friendships, her right to a real life.

because if he gave her real freedom?

he's terrified she might realize she’s better off without him.

in short:

yes, he notices she’s lonely and sad.

yes, he cares — in his way.

no, he doesn't truly fix it — he tries to own her happiness, not heal her loneliness.

deep down, he’s scared that if she ever got a real taste of freedom again, she’d leave.

[redbuddi]

I straight up dont understand what you're even trying to say then. Why do you care about the niche of people who think AI is an accessibility aid but oppose it? Obviously that is ableism, which is obviously wrong, but that's such a specific type of person and I don't see what's constructive about bringing that up in the first place if you agree with me anyway. Like is your point just "yes I agree but some people who agree with you can still be ableist and that's wrong?" Cause like yeah I guess but that's a different discussion at that point then.

I wasn't trying to make a strawman out of you, I just took issue with you saying that it's ableist to say someone's bad at art if they can't make it without AI, which is A) not even close to what I was saying in the first place, and B) a weird thing to bring up when the whole point of my argument is that everyone can make art without AI and it's gross for people to assume that disabled people can't without needing the steals-and-destroys-the-planet machine. If you agree with me like you said then why do you even worry about these contradictory hypothetical situations?

Also in order to "no u" someone you would have had to have called me ableist which I don't think you did? I only accused you of it cause I thought it was weird that you automatically lumped in disabled people with people who can't draw as if the two are inherent to each other. Its not ableist to criticize a lack of ability that a person can then improve on, that's just basic artistic discourse that everyone needs in order to grow. Now if I were bringing up physical/neurological factors outside their control that would be a whole different story, but literally all I'm saying is "disabled people have not and will never need AI and the people who think they do are just taking the piss." Obviously actual disability aids to assist with the process of making art is fine if they would like to use them and in general there should be more of them but AI does not count as one.

Also for the record I do think you suck if you can't make anything without AI, and I don't think it's ableist to say so because no disability can keep someone from making art.

not to be that guy but i think it's a lot more ableist to assume that disabled ppl can't make art without ai than it is for me to not like ai

[secretlyazombi3]

hallo!! (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝* ⋆ ⁺ ₊

i'd like to request a royal reader x knight!leon smut, if it's totally okay + within your comfort zone! i'm leaning towards a more submissive leon here, he's a man of a few words and typically doesn't chat a lot with people he isn't close with but he's reaaaallyy whimpering and whiny with reader when he gets his world rocked, much to their pleasant surprise :3 some overstimulation and praise thrown in would be nice too if you'd like hihiii

-🍮

⌞⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Armor .ᐟ⌝

leon kennedy x afab! reader

๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count:  3.9k ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ NSFW !!!, 2nd person, leon is a bit subby, reader and leon r both desperate for each other, unprotected (as always, pls don’t do that), riding, a bit of overstimulation + praise, ‘forbidden’ in a way, leon is implied to be a bit older, squirting

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ summary: Your knight in shining armour catches you trying to sneak out past midnight. 

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: HII 🍮TYSM FOR THE REQUEST ! :3 sorry i’ve been slow on writing, i’ve had writer’s block and been busy w school (i have finals coming up soon :c) but my requests r still open and i’m working on the requests i have ! ty all sm for the support :3 <3 sorry if there r any errors !

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You stood against the wall, mostly covered in shadow as you watched everyone on the floor of the great hall, all dancing and having a good time. Your arms were crossed as you puffed a bit until your knight approached you. 

He was a calloused man, very quiet, very protective of you. His parents ordered him to follow you around like a damn lost dog to make sure you were safe at all times, despite being an adult. Your parents always babied you and affected how Leon treated you. Like some sort of damsel in distress. He’d always try to dismiss it with some comment about how important it was for your parents to have an heir to the throne or whatever. You didn’t really care about it; it was just bullshitting excuses to keep you from living your life. 

“May I go now?” you asked him as you eyed the dancefloor. Your parents were hosting the yearly Spring Ball at the castle again; this was your first year you were actually allowed to attend the damn thing. Every past year, your parents had insisted that you were ‘too young’, and they were only ‘trying to keep you safe’. Of course, to an extent, it was reasonable, but that didn’t make it totally justified. Everyone at the ball had been personally invited, and the other knights were at the front of the castle approving each guest, so it wasn’t like there were any real threats they were worried about. You knew the real reason - they didn’t want you meeting anyone from outside the castle walls. 

Your parents never explicitly stated it, but you were sure that you were going to be packaged into an arranged marriage one day. They didn’t want anyone less than perfect to sit beside you on the throne one day, so it’d likely be someone they’d trust and someone who knew how to rule over a kingdom. 

Leon nodded his head at your question, grunting out a quiet “yes”. You moved away from the wall and towards the crowd of others before Leon gripped your wrist and pulled you back. “Not so fast.” he started. 

You squirmed a bit out of Leon’s grip, despite it being gentle, all while Leon spoke to you in his usual cold, monotone voice. “Your parents want me to keep an eye on you the whole evening.”. He didn’t wait for your reaction before he sighed, he already knew you’d be upset. 

“I’m not a child; I don’t need to be babysat.” You replied as Leon’s grip finally faltered and you headed off to the mass of people dancing together, only for Leon to follow after you. Typical. That man acted like a baby duckling following their mother duck. He was practically chained to you. Couldn’t your parents see that you didn’t need to have some helicoptering over you at all times?

You hurried away from the corner, not wanting to spend any more of the evening alone in the corner. This was your first time ever attending a dance, after all, and you were going to make the most of it.

Every girl in the palace was all dolled up in ruffle-covered dresses and fancy up-do hairstyles that accentuated their facial features. All the men were dressed up in fancy suits, detailed with gold, tailored specifically for them. It was your first time seeing everyone up close like this, so you took a moment to admire every detail. 

“You just going to stand there staring, pretty thing?” a man asked you from behind, making you turn around. It was some guy you’ve never seen, you hadn’t a clue what relationship he had with your parents that let him get invited, but you didn’t care. He was cute, and you barely ever got social interaction with anyone besides the knights and the maids here. 

He took your hand and offered you to dance, and God, how could you refuse such a pretty face? Time had gone by rather fast; the lack of windows nearby did not aid your blindness to the time. You hadn’t been able to see the sun fall past the horizon and the moon begin to take its place. You wiped your forehead clean of all the beads of sweat that had accumulated from spending so much time dancing in a hall packed with so many other people. Leon had just been standing a few feet away, just watching… Guy probably had nothing better to do, you thought. 

“Are you going to be attending that, uh, afterparty for this ball tonight? The one east of the village?” the man you’d been dancing with had asked you once you two had paused for some air and water. 

“Huh?” you replied, tilting your head a little. It was your first time hearing about anything of that sort. 

“The king- or, your dad, I mean… his friends host an after-party of sorts. Lasts from dusk till dawn. Are you coming?” You hesitated before replying. You hadn’t even heard about it, probably because your dad knew that you’d want to go if you had known about it. And your parents would never let you outside the castle walls during the night. Even if Leon came to chaperone you. 

“Ah-” you started, stumbling over your words until you felt a large hand prop onto your shoulder. Turning to look back, you saw Leon moving to stand beside you. He leaned down a bit closer to you so he could talk just softly enough for you to hear. “Your parents want you back in your quarters by midnight. It’s five past.” he said to you quietly. 

“God damnit, I’ve got a bedtime now too?” You replied as you glanced at Leon, then back at the man you’d been dancing with, dying to kiss all night. Years of being cooped up behind castle walls made you desperate. 

Leon didn’t respond, his expression as unamused as always. The man hadn’t cracked a smile at all the whole night, it was honestly depressing. He was a dedicated knight alright. He had the opportunity to dance with anyone he wanted to - admittedly, he was quite handsome. But instead, he spent the hours just standing there, watching you have the time of your life simply because your parents told him to. 

Leo had a firm grip on your arm as if he were anticipating you’d try to flee with the guy you’d just met - yeah, you were desperate, but not that desperate. 

You paused for a moment, trying to think of how to reply. You didn’t want to cut the night short, you knew there was a zero percent chance you’d ever see this guy ever again if you did. But you felt Leon beginning to tug on your arm, insisting that you two leave. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll… I’ll find a way.” You replied before reluctantly walking away with Leon. It was somewhat less pathetic than letting him drag you away. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The past hour or so, you’d been keeping the closest eye on the status of the Spring Ball you could form inside your room. You’d waited a full hour to hear the music from the grand hall to stop, and you did, you’d heard the liveliness of the dance slowly die out like a flame being extinguished. 

You still waited a few moments until you were sure most of the castle had been put to rest. By now, most of the staff would have returned to their quarters and gone to bed, right? You were sure it was safe to make your move now. Sneak out. You knew it was super risky, but you were also desperate. Desperate to something not controlled by your parents. Desperate to see that man. You hoped that of all people to be arranged married to, it’d be him. Maybe that was because you’d had little interaction with many men before this, but you were head over heels. 

You took a lantern in your hands and exited your room, quietly tiptoeing down the corridors of your quarter. The halls weren’t too dim thanks to some moonlight peering in through the windows. 

You weren’t exactly sure where this after-party was, all you knew was that it was east of the kingdom, meaning you’d have to move toward the moon for guidance. You could probably ask around to try and locate a specific manor it’d be held in. 

You were only a few feet down the hall, just a little bit away from the round staircase tower you’d need to go down to reach the exit, barely away from your bedroom before you saw Leon approaching you from the dark. “Shit.” You muttered to yourself. Of course, you should’ve expected this. Leon had dark circles under his eyes, the guy never slept, and he was there when you told that man, you’d find a way to get to that party. 

“Come on now, back to bed.” Leon said simply in his gruff voice as he gestured to your room, his movements still somewhat stiff thanks to his armor that he was still wearing. He knew your plan; he didn’t even bother heading back to his quarters to change. He’d probably been waiting right there at the end of the hallway since he’d insisted, you’d go to bed. 

You stuttered out a reply, trying to talk your way out of it, make up some lie that you just wanted a midnight snack or something, but Leon saw right through your bullshit. He held your wrist again and brought you back to your room. 

“Your parents would be so disappointed.” Leon said, his tone sounding like he was scolding a naughty dog. 

You sat down on your bed, glancing out the door to the balcony. Climbing down would’ve been a more viable idea than trying to leave out the main exit. 

You crossed your arms and puffed out a sigh as you looked down at the floor. “I know.” you replied simply. 

“I’m not going to tell them, though, don’t worry.” Leon added as he gazed down at you. 

“That’s a shocker.” you mumbled out.

Leon tilted his head at that comment, he raised an eyebrow. That was probably the most expressive you’d ever seen him before this moment. 

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“You’re so loyal to my parents, you do every damn thing they tell you to. You spent the whole night standing against a pillar and watching over me like a stalker just because that’s what they ordered you to. Could’ve danced with any pretty girl or guy in there you wanted to.” You replied as you looked up at him, standing up to look him in the eye. 

His expression softened slightly, lips moving upwards although it wasn’t entirely a smile. Not yet at least. 

“You think I did that just because your parents asked?” he asked you, sounding somewhat amused. It wasn’t usual for Leon to be this expressive, even though now he was still barely showing any emotion. 

“Yeah, why else would you do that?” You asked, still looking up at Leon. You felt his hands gently brush against the side of your neck. He wasn’t very touchy - at least, not like this. You were used to him grabbing your wrist whenever he wanted to keep you in sight, but this? “I… I wanted to dance with you.” he admitted, his words coming out with a sigh, his voice still as soft and gentle as ever. 

You were puzzled by that response. Surely, he was joking. Surely, he didn’t actually mean it, he didn’t actually have feelings for you. 

All your thoughts became a messy blur as you felt his lips crash against yours and pull back just as fast. His cheeks were slightly pink, he looked more embarrassed than anything. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. He felt like he’d done something dirty. He was your knight, hired to protect you, not to fall for you and kiss you without at least asking first. What happened to his chivalry? Leon revoked his hand from your neck, looking down as if he were ashamed. “No, it’s fine.” You assured him, wrapping your fingers around his hand and gently guiding his hand onto your cheek. “Don’t apologize, I… I liked it.” 

All these years you’d longed for a man had turned you desperate. Tonight, you’d been willing to sneak out alone in order to go see one. All this time, you’d had a man head over heels for you right in your reach. Perfectly attainable. You just didn’t realize it. 

How could you? Leon was quiet and reserved. Tonight was the first time you’d seen his face change from an always annoyed one to literally any other emotion. How could you have known? 

Your head was flooded with thoughts, the rational part of your brain was drowning in all the thoughts yelling at you to kiss him again. You were so, so desperate. You pulled Leon in for another kiss and felt him wrap his large arms around your waist, kissing you sloppily. Clearly, he was as desperate for you as you were for him. You pulled him onto your bed, underneath the frame with the pretty canopy, resting against the cushioned headboard.

You sat on his lap; he pulled away from the kisses and gasped. The armor he was wearing was probably the worst thing he could have a boner in. He shifted around uncomfortably and bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“Fuck.” he grunted, out of breath. 

“What is it, what’s wrong?” you asked quietly, as if you were scared your parents would hear. You knew logically they wouldn’t - their quarters were across the whole damn castle. You could moan like a slut all you wanted all night long and they’d still be resting peacefully, not a clue in the world you’d been up fucking your knight. 

“I’m-I’m hard...” Leon admitted, audibly embarrassed by his situation. You pulled back a little from his lap, allowing him to pull off his bottoms desperately, tossing them aside. 

Despite your room still being dim, the only light source coming from the moonlight sneaking its way in through your sheer curtains, you managed to see the large bulge in Leon’s boxers, a few tiny wet spots from some pre-cum. 

Leon had been waiting to fuck you for what felt like forever. He’d been head over heels longer than he’d like to admit, and he’d spent more nights in his private bathroom pumping his cock with his fists while staring at pictures of you than he’d like to admit. 

You felt yourself begin to drip in your panties at the sight. You were horny, you were so fucking horny. You hadn’t felt the touch of a man ever. At least, not like this. And you were just desperate to experience this intimacy. You longed to feel a man’s cock inside you, as embarrassing as it was to admit. Leon removed the chest plate armor on him, tearing everything off of him like a wild animal. Like he couldn’t contain how bad he wanted to fuck you. You did the same, you stripped down on your bed until you were just in panties. 

You took a moment to admire Leon’s body all while he admired yours. He’d seen the outline of your body when you’d worn tight clothes in the past, but you were a thousand times sexier than he could’ve imagined. He felt his dick throb as his eyes fixated on your nipples, your pretty tits… 

You’d never seen Leon in anything other than that stiff armor, so you had spent the years completely unaware that he’d been jacked this whole time. His arms were toned and muscular, not to mention his abs… where did he even get the time to work out when he spent so much of his time watching you. 

“So fucking hot...” you whispered to Leon as you felt on his abs, feeling his happy trail brush against your hand. Leon let out a pathetic whine at the touch. 

He stared up at you. He’d been working here to protect you. He was working with your parents; he agreed with them that he’d protect you. But he’d gotten too close to you, and now… He couldn’t help his feelings. Even though he knew he should do anything but fuck you, even though you seemed so willing for his dick, he couldn’t help himself. You were the forbidden fruit he just couldn’t resist. 

Leon gently grabbed your hips, his grip on you gentler than ever. You gently grinded against him, rubbing your clothed pussy against his dick that was still restrained by his boxers. 

“Oh fuck, don’t we need protection? We should use some, right? I-” Leon stuttered, his face visibly becoming more and more pink with every word that he let slip from his lips. “Fuck it, it’s fine, I just want you… I-I need this.” you stuttered out desperately. It was almost cute how desperate you two were for each other, in a pathetic way. 

You peeled down the fabric of Leon’s boxers slowly, a smirk crawling on your lips as you watched his hard cock spring out excitedly, the red leaking tip desperately begging for your pussy. 

You gently slid down your panties, down past your ankles before tossing them aside, not caring about where they’d land. 

Leon’s face was bright pink at this point, he was resting back against the headboard as you gently stroked his cock, sizing him up mentally, imagining how good it’d feel when you finally felt this long dick inside you. Leon whimpered as he felt your soft fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“Please-” he gasped out, his tone abnormally whiny. He looked at you with puppy eyes, silently begging you to stop teasing and just bounce on his cock already.

You leaned closer to him and gently kissed him before positioning yourself on top of him, his tip right at your entrance. You whined as you slowly lowered yourself down, feeling his dick slowly slide between your legs. He felt incredible.

Leon was already hot and sweaty just feeling you on top of him, seeing your face contort with pleasure as you took his dick inside you. 

“So… so fucking tight…” he grunted out between desperate pants and gasps for air. Leon shut his eyes as he leaned back, staring up at your ceiling as he tried adjusting to the sensation of your tight walls practically milking his cock. 

You were whining loudly, not used to the sensation just yet, but after a second you managed to quiet down. 

“Feels so fucking good…” You moaned quietly as you placed one hand on Leon’s cheek. You leaned back slightly and sighed, taking in a few deep breaths before beginning to push yourself up and down, bouncing on Leon’s dick. 

Leon’s whimpers grew louder with each bounce; his eyes clenching shut for a few moments as you rode his dick. He was never one to be vocal in any situation, but now? He couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers that were escaping his lips. He was moaning like a whore. 

God, this felt wrong. He was supposed to protect you, keep you safe for your parents, now encourage you to ride him raw. But God, it felt so right, and your parents didn’t need to know about your fun time with your little knight. 

“Ah... ah… Leon...” you breathed as you kept bouncing on his cock at a steady, somewhat swift pace, your pussy desperately clutching onto his dick, not wanting this moment to even end. 

Your hand moved down Leon’s cheek as you admired his beauty. His eyes were welling up with tears, ashamedly. Leon’s dick was so sensitive, he hadn’t fucked a real pussy in years, this just felt so damn good to him. 

Leon moaned your name desperately as you leaned forward to kiss him, wanting to soothe his tears. “You’re doing so good… you feel so fucking good in me, Leon...” You moaned out, not bothering to quiet yourself. Leon’s eyes were glued to your chest, enjoying the way your tits bounced with each movement.

You were progressively getting louder and louder as you kept riding. Leon gripped your hips a bit tighter. “Your pussy feels amazing, baby…” Leon grunted out quietly, some tears beginning to slip as he felt his balls tighten up slightly in anticipation of an orgasm. 

Poor boy had been trying to hold it in this whole time. He’d been leaking precum since you pushed him onto the bed. If he wasn’t trying to wait for you to cum with him, he would’ve come while you were stroking him.

“You’re doing this so well, ah, fuck...” he added, his eyes shutting involuntarily as you moved your hand up and down his abs, your touch was intoxicating. “You ride so damn good…” he whispered to you, his hand rubbing your side. You began bouncing a bit faster, feeling his tip occasionally brush against your spongy spot. You moved your fingers down, gently rubbing circles into your clit.

“Ah! Fuck!” you squeaked as you felt his tip finally slam against your spot, making your whole-body twitch with pleasure. Leon felt you clench around his cock, causing him to whine out as his hips involuntarily bucked up into you, his tip pressing deeper into your spot. 

Leon bit his lip as he felt more tears leak, his vision blurry as he looked up at you. You wiped his tears as you kept bouncing on his dick. “So fucking good, you’re going to make me cum, you feel so good…” you breathed.

“Fuck… so tight, so wet, so perfect I- I’m gonna cum..!” Leon gasped out, his hips thrusting up involuntarily and beginning to stutter as he watched you squirm. You leaned your head back, squealing desperately as you felt yourself peak, squirting warm juices all over his abdomen. Your head was fuzzy, and you were dizzy in the aftermath of your orgasm. God, you didn’t even know you could squirt. Who knew Leon’s dick was all it took? 

Leon tightened his grip on your hips, forcing you down and still as he came, releasing his hot seed deep inside you. He sat there for a few moments before finally relaxing back down onto the bed as you pulled off of him, his cum dripping from between your legs. 

“Oh, fuck, baby… I should’ve pulled out, ‘m so sorry…” Leon said quietly as he gently rubbed your back. 

“It’s fine…” you assured him, your lips gently pressing against his neck as you rested against him. You were both sweaty, laying together in your bed as you pulled over the fluffy comforters to cover up your guys’ nude bodies. 

God, your parents would be pissed if they found out. If they knew the man they hired to protect their precious kid, heir to the throne, had fucked them raw in their bed in the castle they all lived in. And they’d be upset at you, too, for developing a relationship with someone that wasn’t arranged. The other staff would talk. The knights would be shocked that one of them had been so bold to do such a thing. The maids wouldn’t be happy having to clean up your bed. 

But right now, that didn’t matter. All that mattered to you was lying down next to a man who loved you; something you’d been wanting for forever. 

[k3n999]

Aight aight~ here are my thoughts on TS 2.0 demo. SPOILERS.

About Exile origin

There's smth I'm confused abt with MC and their curse

My thoughts on LIs in this new update <3

Yes ofc I'm gonna yap more abt Leander

Useless 1am thoughts but genuinely terrified me

(Also please excuse my ENG (^^;;; )

I alrd gave my opinions on the replacement with the Hound to the Exile before but @/slyfire gave a perfect rundown on this topic! (Read here if you're interested~) Perfectly summed up everything I thought abt it. One of the things I want to highlight from their breakdown is this:

It seems the exile can unlock this red option:

It makes sense because they have an 'uncanny intuition for detecting danger'. That made mereally anticipate what's going to happen when we finally face the Soulless soon...To my surprise, they changed the options for this scene as well and I was excited 'Fight back' is an option, and ofc I chose it, eager to see what would happen but the result wasn't so pretty💀

Nope, I didn't expect for MC to pull off some sick move to fight the soulless, but what I was hoping for to see them AT LEAST DO SOMETHING or ANYTHING to survive, after all they're 'seasoned survivalist' and 'well-versed in deciphering Soulless'. They also have been taught how to survive in the wild.

So maybe dodging some attacks and do something to distract the soulless before Mhin arrives. But instead they tried to use their curse to purify the soulless temporarily. I mean, yeah cool, would love to see that happen, but at the time, it felt like a bad idea??? and yeah it was hdakdasks

This is exactly the kind of thing I was hoping for when I picked the Exile origin.. MC doing something that ties back to their background. I KNOOOWW, I know, it is still a demo, but, give us something-- a little bit that shows exile is good enough to be a replacement to the Hound. *sobs*

Also, did i miss anything abt how MC KNEW they could purify soulless? I'm aware I have a memory of a goldfish so maybe there's something that I forgor😔 Please let me know I'm actually curious (><!! I was surprised we got to see them unwrap the bandages, even attempt to try purify the soulless this soon.

And that's that.

ANYWAY *throws some glitters and sparkles*

My thoughts on LIs <3 just a basic rundown, nothing serious...kind of.

Kuras

Is it just me or does our pristine doctor seems to glow a lot more brighter in this update? Did I accidently turn the brightness up to max?? Because his beauty blinded me for sure, ESPECIALLY HIS EYES!!! I think I'm obsessed...so many pics it's so hard to choose! but something about the 2nd pic gives off softness, purity, innocence and sincerity to me uuuueeegghh and maybe I'm overthinking it bcuz it looks glowy to me🥺🥺🥺 Anw, love the lil ahem ahem...date..we had by the river (ughh the scenery was beautiful😔) I don't remember from previous demo but in this version,Kuras seems much more likely to show that he has a strong interest in the MC. I found myself more and more..dazzled by Kuras this time...I think he's gonna be my 2nd favourite I fear🥺................................ (Leander is behind me isn't he?🧍)

Vere

Well well weeellll~ looks like the fox has lost its tongue. Happy to see Vere is not just about wanting to snap our neck and eat us alive (yet). I didn’t know that we had chosen to ignore him and resist him(??) is what makes us interesting in his eyes? Not sure, but whatever made him react that way made me think of someone *side-eye Ais

[Is it kind of his type or something?...]

Mhin

Mhin is more approachable and um less snappy? than before, which I'm happy about (and can't wait for the moment when they can fully trust and feel comfortable with MC😭 I really want to see that happen so bad....) I love we got to see their nerdy side when they analyzing the soulless asjdasj That honestly caught me off guard. And how they show a little smile and get a bit bashful whenever we catch onto something they like🥺

Ais

[LOOK Y'ALL HIS OTHER HAND IS DOWN *head in hands**copium*]

*sigh* ...I love him..........*slaps face* I um, can't really hide my disappointment when we got less sprites of him. I know... because I remember every single expression and the movement he makes. Yes, I sound like a creep. Only for him tho~- *gets shot* I was hoping to at least him show his fang when he grins,-- pout OR BLUSH. But hey *sobs* we got bloody knuckles. I'm not complaining. Oh and no Princess sprite either *cries* I also hoping they also make the exterior of Ais' place. I am very curious how it look.... And this right here:

means thousands for me <3

(Do you think I'm done? Of course not. Yes I'm holding myself back from saying more because I'm gonna do a separate post just to talk about him😔)

Leander

[I want to kick him in the ass]

And at last, here we are. Of course I have to leave him for the end. The highlight of this updated demo; our lovely Mr. Chokey, Leander. What kind of sorcery and flavor did they put into this man. WHY IS HE SO MUCH DIFFERENT THAN THE OLD DEMO?!!!??? He used to be much more tolerable and I- I thought I could fix him, BUT NOW this man is nothing but glaring red in my eyes😭NINONINONINOOOO🚨🚨🚨 the alarm in my head went off when he said this:

What the actual fck do you mean by that mister💀☝️

At the time, I thought it was just Leander being the haha silly guy he is!! --and then he starts making UwU face and saying things like; 'You don't owe me anything' 'I'll help you all the time' 'You're not believe me?' 🥺👉👈 Yeah it's cute and all but all this makes me...strangely uncomfortable...UNTIL HE LOCKED THE DAMN DOOR. I couldn't help but foolishly screamed for Ais, hoping he would pick me up and comfort me😭

The whole scene in the room; gave me nothing but smth close to claustrophobia. My legs wouldn't stop shaking, I kept biting my nails (afraid to see what would happen next) The whole time I felt trapped. All his sweet words felt some kind of spells in my ears- like MC couldn't do anything but 'Yes' to every word he said... AND THAT MC IS RASVAN DAMMIT AAAAA😭

Me through my monitor screen:

"RASVAAAAANNNN GET OOOOUUTT ITS A TRRAAPPPPPP DONT LISTENN TO HIMMMM PUSH HIM AAWWAAYYYYYYY RASSSVAAANNNNN"

I was already off my seat when it get to this part, LIKE AINT NO WAY Y'ALL GONNA DO IT??? and they don't🧍somehow I feel relief.

Dear Leander fans/simps out there, please don't hate me for having this kind of reaction (I was once one of you but now.........) ajsdghasd OVERALL do I hate this big massive changes on Leander? No. Absolutely not, in fact I like it even more. It shows that Leander might potentially be the scariest one among the LIs, despite being human. And I'm very much looking forward to seeing what kind of sht he'll pull in the full release.

Before I forget- can I just say how much I love his introduction? It's so much better compared to the old demo (I have more to say to this but brain is giving up on me rn)

And now here come my silly 1am thoughts; it's abt both Ais and Leander...

Since, ofc, we don't know what exactly Leander wants from us-- what if the feelings are genuine? The way he acts, all stuff he says to us, sure, some things might raise a brow.. but- but what if he actually sincere and this is just him wants to have us in his (somewhat) twisted way. WHILE AIS THO, all the stuff that I've been saying how soft he can be is just an act???? What if he’s fooling us, only to throw us away later???? What if the devs want to trick us (<Ais fans)??? Maybe there's some kind of twisted plot twist waiting at the end???----

I told you these are just silly and stupid thoughts, but idk why I decided to deep dive into it💀 Sometimes I like to think worse things that could possibly happen. It's fun to get lost in these thoughts even part of me know it won't likely to happen. But heh WHAT IF am I right? I'm still on abt with the theory and analysis with; Leander is green but is the reddest red flag ever while Ais is red but is greenest, most foresty flag ever. I'm so into it and want more ppl to talk about it *looks at you with my sparkly eyes*

ANYWAY, I'm gonna be sound more stupider if I keep this going. I'm going sleep and dream abt aisvan 🚶.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. Hope all of you have a wonderful day and keep playing demo until the full release comes out🥰(me).

[differenteagletragedy]

Heyyy !!

So i had an idea.

Since Simon doesn’t celebrate birthdays at all, let’s imagine a world where reader’s birthday comes before his.

How would he react?

I thought that maybe he would ignore it just like anyone else’s birthday which would sadden reader A HELL LOT.

I absolutely live for angst so I believe that Simon would be crushed once he realizes his mistake and try to fix it.

Anyway, I hope that was understandable! Your writing is so good, I’m a 100% sure you’ll turn this into a masterpiece !

THANK YOU!??!!?! I live for the angst too, big big time, I hope you like it!!!

Simon keeps a watchful eye on you as you get ready for a night out with friends. He watches you do your hair and makeup, slide into a tight little dress, and it's a pleasant sight to see, but something's off. There's a tenseness in your shoulders, and he can't figure out the source.

"Everything all right?" he asks from his spot on the bed while you move to the closet to find a pair of shoes.

"Yep," you answer in a tone that tells him that everything is not, in fact, all right.

He stands, making his way to you, and you still when he puts his hands on your hips, pulling you so that your back rests against his chest.

"Can't fix the problem if I don't know what it is, love."

"The problem," you tell him, sliding around to face him, "is that I'm going to be late if you keep being handsy."

He lets you slip away from him.

Later that night, when you come home, you're buzzed enough to be honest but not enough to be belligerent about it. He meets you at the door, kneels to take your shoes off for you, and you begin.

"I'm sad."

He sets the shoes down and stands, taking your hands in his, and says, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

"It's my birthday," you tell him.

"As of midnight, yes."

"... You knew?"

There's hurt in your eyes, and Simon understands immediately that he's played this all wrong, but he's still trying to work out where exactly he failed.

"'Course I knew," he answers truthfully. "I know everything about you."

"Then why didn't you say anything? My friends took me out for my birthday, and you ... you didn't even say anything. You didn't want to come. Why not?"

"Because I knew you'd have more fun with your friends than you'd have with me."

It's another truth, but it's just the tip of the iceberg.

You sigh, then drop one of his hands, taking the other and leading him to the couch. You've been together long enough that he knows what this is -- you've just realized you've uncovered another piece of Simon Riley that is a little bit peculiar, and you want to talk it out.

"So here's the thing," you begin, sitting next to him. "I love you. I love being around you. And I want to be around you on my birthday."

He fights against the din that begins immediately in his mind -- the too-loud thoughts about how he doesn't deserve this understanding, doesn't deserve your kindness, doesn't deserve you, and he tries to speak.

Nothing comes out.

It's too many things, too many mistakes. It's the deep-seated feeling that plagued him at the beginning of the relationship, that quietened over time but is now back in full force, screaming through the silence in the room and making the patience in your stare painful: he's not cut out for this.

Finally, in a small, defeated voice, he says, "I was going to tell you happy birthday."

You pull him into a hug, then push him down until he's half-laying on the couch, his head in your lap and your fingers running through his hair. He closes his eyes, part of him waiting for this to be the final straw for you and part of him knowing, somehow, that you love him too much to let him go.

"Listen," you say softly, "I know sometimes you feel like you're not enough. But I need you to know that you are, ok? You're more than enough for me, Simon, you're everything. And that means spending birthdays with me and holidays and good times and bad times and everything else that makes up a life, because I want to share my life with you. Is that what you want?"

He can't say it in words, he doesn't know any that would suffice. He tries to say it in actions, in the way he gives you the first cup of tea, how he scrapes the ice off your windshield when it frosts and how he stops the radio in the car on your favorite songs, even when he can't stand them. He tries to press it into you too, through his hands and his mouth when he holds you.

Now, in the moment, he nods, his head still resting in your lap, and he hopes you can feel everything else. How hard he tries.

Your touch turns softer, and you pause to lean down and press a soft kiss on his temple.

"So tell me."

He hesitates, then turns to lay on his back so that he can look up at you. He feels the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a smile, small but genuine. It still feels strange, even after all these months, like a muscle that's never quite developed. It aches a little less every time.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he says.

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh God, I loved this! I was rolling on the floor and cackling like a maniac throughout most of this 😂😂😂

🥧 Dean:

Ah yes, classic man with his "I'm fine." He'd probably still say, halfway through bleeding to death 😂

"You're not fine," you testily reply. "You're not even 'Winchester fine.' You wanna know how I know? I'm driving the damn car right now!"

Hahaha such a good point! Hard to argue with that 😆

That's because he's more of a "pour some whiskey on it," patch it up, and forget about it kinda guy.

Yup, and have Sam stich you up with tooth floss, right, big boy? 😂

You detail his history and current symptoms to the best of your ability, and you make sure to jot down certain visits to free clinics in his past that he'd probably gloss over.

While she's filling out his form, I had Ross and Joey in my head, too 😂

The doctor informs Dean that he likely has a kidney stone.

Come on, I had to...

But underneath the embarrassment, the shit, I'm getting old bit cropping back up again, and the Dean Winchester quirk of not wanting to be fussed over, not wanting to be seen as weak or ridiculous — what finally surfaces past all that is you.

Awww, yeah ❤️‍🩹 But that's such a good point! Since Dean survived the finale and nothing ever happened in that barn, he has to face his mortality in a way. The "Fuck, what happens when I'm old and wrinkly" phase 😅

The ending was so wholesome! And I imagined the reader from Midnight Espresso. She was so warm, caring, stubborn, and sassy, too. Totally gave me the same vibes! 😭💜

Beau:

Oh, Beau... Not the prostate exam 😂🫶 Btw, I loved how you switched up the different doctors for each of them! The kind of doctor fit their personalities so well too and made it even funnier 🤣

"You know what, my throat still feels weird on the left side, especially when I swallow. Feels scratchy and, uh, kinda hurts. You think I should get it looked at? What if it's laryngitis, or pneumonia, or God forbid, throat cancer. I mean, throat cancer, honey! That's nothin' to laugh at."

Aaaah, I love that you incorporated this!!! Totally sounds like something he'd do too. Probably Jenny, Denise, and Cassie heard the same thing. He went on about it for days lmao

But when it comes to one exam in particular, he's your typical male of a certain age.

Ugh, so true... Been trying to get my husband to go to one (and also been trying to get him to have a weird mole checked out for ten years. The argument: it hasn't changed in all that time, so it's probably fine 🙈😂)

"You're just teasin' the cave. You're not looking for coal."

Dead 💀🤣🤣🤣 (And on a side note: that aspect should be more featured in fics lol)

"All right, fine. I'll go," he says. "But I don't want to hear a damn peep out of you when I get back."

Oh, I'd make so many jokes when he comes back. Probably buy him donuts and other hole-shaped treats 😆

Soldier Boy:

Fuck, Alex... Ben fucking killed me! The fact that you picked a therapist was just hilariously delicious 😂

"I'm fucking crazy, is that it? That what you're trying to say?" His voice raises, notch after notch. "I don't need a goddamn shrink!"

Oh, of course his argument is the "Only crazy people see shrinks." Classic (like him) lol

It's hard not to match his volume, but you manage to stand your ground while he huffs and puffs and eventually storms out.

So true! I imagine it's hard staying level-headed with this man-child when he throws a tantrum. You almost have to talk louder to get through all of his white noise 🙈

He volleys back with empty words. "Fine, fucking leave."

*sighs* Benjamin! 🙄 But completely agree. He'd do and say all of these things – as frustrating as that is lol

"It's different now. You know that, right?" you say quietly. "If we're going to do this, you and me together, then I need you to protect us. Protect us from you."

That broke my heart a little, although it's so true 😭❤️‍🩹

("What kind of quack fucking doctor goes by his first name, anyway? Christ.")

Pffff 😂 Reminds me a little of that Rick & Morty episode where Rick refuses to go to therapy. I already feel bad for that psychiatrist 😆

He has a willing (heavily paid) audience for all of his stories from "the good old days." Every gushy detail.

Like I said – I feel bad for that poor doctor, but oh my God, he so would! He found a sounding board for all his stories 😂

Russell:

And of course Russell, much like Dean, is too "tough" for a doctor. A bullet wound you say? Nah, totally heals itself lol

"Hey, baby," he greets you tiredly, even tries to kiss you, but you're too busy running gentle hands over his arms and chest. Searching."Hmm, someone's missed me. Miss Handsy-yy-ahhh..." His playful quip dies the moment you find it.

Hahaha I fucking knew she was checking him for injuries! Would've done the same thing 😂🫶 (Also, Russell, what did you expect? Sex? In this condition????)

"Ehh, yeah, but no biggie. I've got some tools in the car—"

You need a hospital not a hardware store, you big idiot!!! God 😂🙈

Only now does he begin to realize just how fucking unfair that is.

Yes, honestly, please quit. I wouldn't be able to sleep dating that man. What if he never comes homes from a job? 😢😭💔

And I'm really curious what her punishment would've been. I'd make him eat veggies only for a month. That would break him 😂😜

These were all so wonderful and so effing funny, friend! You nail these HC every time!!! ☺️💜

HEADCANON: Doctor's Appointment

HC: How would Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw react when you try to take him to the doctor?

Pairings: Dean x Reader || Beau x Reader || Soldier Boy x Reader || Russell x Reader

AN: This one is a request from my lovely friend @spnbabe67 over on Patreon! 💜

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, literal man children, medical stuff, angst, mentions of PTSD, hints of spice, fluffff

Dean Winchester

"I'm fine."

Ah yes, the same two growly words you've heard for an hour already.

"You're not fine," you testily reply. "You're not even 'Winchester fine.' You wanna know how I know? I'm driving the damn car right now!"

Dean shoots you a warning look.

One, you can tell he wants to say watch it on how you talk about his Baby.

Two, he doesn't want to admit that you're right.

He shifts in his seat with his arms crossed, trying to cover up a wince. It's the only tell that he's uncomfortable, even in pain, other than the fact that you've managed to hijack his car and take him to this damn doctor's appointment.

Dean can count on one hand the number of times he's been in a doctor's office for a genuine ailment, and not just trying to fish for information while impersonating some form of law enforcement.

That's because he's more of a "pour some whiskey on it," patch it up, and forget about it kinda guy.

And if we're talking about hospital stays, then that's usually a "one step away from death's door" kind of visit.

But when you first noticed something was off with Dean (confirming with Sam on the side of your suspicions), you did your damnedest to convince the man that he should see a doctor.

You even make the appointment for him as convenient as possible, around midday, so he doesn't have the excuse of it being too early to disturb his morning, or too late to mess up his afternoon.

Dean is a grumbly grizzly bear who only rolls his eyes in the waiting room when you offer him the clipboard to fill out his medical history.

"This is stupid," he says. "It’s probably just gonna clear up in a week or so anyway."

"You don't know that," you say. And you heave a sigh. Sometimes this man requires every last ounce of your ever-thinning patience.

You reclaim the clipboard and do this part for him too, filling out his fake-ass insurance information with his fake-ass name.

You detail his history and current symptoms to the best of your ability, and you make sure to jot down certain visits to free clinics in his past that he'd probably gloss over.

When the nurse opens the door and calls him back to see the doctor, Dean still glances over at you, mostly annoyed. But underneath, you sense his hesitation.

You slip your hand into his and get up with him. You grace a kiss over his knuckles — a moment of solidarity — and you go with him to one of the back rooms.

You later have to bite your lip against the vindicated urge to say I told you so.

The doctor informs Dean that he likely has a kidney stone.

If possible, Dean is even more sour the whole car ride home. He's convinced all the vegetables you've been trying to get him to eat are the culprit.

"This is what I get for eating fucking rabbit food," he grumbles. He levies a finger at you. "See? I told you. Nothing good comes of it."

"Right," you snort. "Zucchini is what's got you're, uh, pipe all blocked up."

But seeing the disgruntled look on his face, you remember just how much pain he's been trying to cover up for the past week. How many times you've found him hunched in the bathroom, dreading a piss.

You reach over and try to soothe him, gently stroking his thigh.

"It's okay, baby. We'll get the official test results soon. In the meantime, just keep drinking lots of water and get some actual rest."

"Whatever," he mutters.

But underneath the embarrassment, the shit, I'm getting old bit cropping back up again, and the Dean Winchester quirk of not wanting to be fussed over, not wanting to be seen as weak or ridiculous — what finally surfaces past all that is you.

Specifically, how much you push him to take care of himself.

Besides Sam, you're the only one who manages to keep him in check, the only one who cares that much, that you'd literally try to steal his car.

Yeah, I love you tends to cut through pretty much all the other bullshit.

Dean might not always express it words, but he does it now, taking your hand off his lap and pressing a kiss to your wrist, right over your pulse point.

You briefly take your eyes off the road to glance over at him, smiling. He's going to be out of commission for a while until this little problem clears up, in more ways than one.

The great Dean Winchester.

Beats Death itself, too many times to count.

Felled by pebble in his...well...proverbial shoe.

You try to hide your amusement, if not your affection. You bite your lip hard.

"Shut up," he warns, even though his lips twitch upward.

Your snort of laughter escapes before you can reign it in.

Beau Arlen

Beau is resistant at first, but he's probably the easiest to wrangle into seeing the doctor, whether it's yearly checkups or a man flu gotten out of control.

("You know what, my throat still feels weird on the left side, especially when I swallow. Feels scratchy and, uh, kinda hurts. You think I should get it looked at? What if it's laryngitis, or pneumonia, or God forbid, throat cancer. I mean, throat cancer, honey! That's nothin' to laugh at.")

You wish he'd have that "proactive" mentality with other areas of his health too, like not overworking himself at the precinct.

But when it comes to one exam in particular, he's your typical male of a certain age.

No matter how many times you remind him and write down the appointment on the calendar stuck to the fridge so he doesn't forget, he conjures some excuse for why he couldn't make it.

At first it's begrudgingly amusing, but by the third time, you're concerned, and even annoyed that he isn't taking his health more seriously.

"Look, I know it's not exactly pleasant, but this stuff is important. You gotta take care of yourself," you say.

You know you don't have to remind him that he has a daughter, but you will pull that card if you have to.

"Yeah, I know. It's just, uh..." Beau trails off, hands on his hips. He doesn't know what to tell you to make you understand how much he'd rather not go to this appointment.

"It's just a prostate exam, babe. I'll bet it's not half as invasive as a pap smear," you say wryly.

Beau shakes his head at you. "That very well may be, but believe you me, no man wants a latex finger up his..."

You raise your brows and tilt your head with a smile. "Well, you know. Some guys actually—"

Beau waves a hand at whatever you were going to say next.

"You know what, forget I said anything. I'd rather just live my life not knowing what's down there. Really, I'm good."

You utter a laugh, but you sidle up to him and grasp the open edges of his jacket. You turn your face up to him with a more sensuous smile.

"You don't mind when I do it," you tease.

Beau actually blushes. His cheeks and the tips of his ears tinge pink.

He clears his throat, his hands settling on the curve of your waist.

"Well, that's different," he says. His voice pitches lower, his green eyes taking on a slight mischievous gleam. "You're just teasin' the cave. You're not looking for coal."

Laughter bursts out of you like a gut punch. Your forehead falls against his chest as your entire body shakes with giggles.

Beau wraps you up in his arms. He tries and fails to temper his grin, even though his cheeks are still burning.

"All right, fine. I'll go," he says. "But I don't want to hear a damn peep out of you when I get back."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

(Oh, good fucking luck on this one.)

Ben rarely, if ever, gets sick. Of course, he's also nearly invulnerable.

However, you've been trying to get him to see a different kind of medical professional.

"Excuse me?" he growls. The first time you suggest it, he dismissed the idea with a roll of his eyes, thinking you were just trying to get a rise out of him. He doesn't appreciate you bringing it up again. "You better be fucking kidding."

"Ben..." You try to ply him with a gentle hand on his arm, but he shrugs you off, too irritated to curb the impulse.

"I'm fucking crazy, is that it? That what you're trying to say?" His voice raises, notch after notch. "I don't need a goddamn shrink!"

"I didn't say you were crazy!" you say. It's hard not to match his volume, but you manage to stand your ground while he huffs and puffs and eventually storms out.

You get discouraged and frustrated yourself, but you cling to every scrap of patience you can muster up for this man.

It's gonna take a few tries.

You start to suggest that maybe he should start easing up on the weed and the booze too.

Any time he snaps at you, you remind him that for as much shit as you've put up with him so far, this is the kind of shit that'll send you packing. Leaving his ass. For good.

He volleys back with empty words. "Fine, fucking leave."

You know they're empty, because every time you've called his bluff and packed a bag, he stops you.

"All right, enough. You've proved your fucking point."

After that, he tries to cut back on the booze, at least. He watches you pour out the Grey Goose and the Patrón.

Fucking fine by him. He's lost the taste for vodka, let alone that frilly French shit, and the cheap tequila.

But choking off the vein of one vice just makes another twice as strong.

Ultimately, it doesn't fix the problem either.

There's the time Ben blows a hole in the roof of your house (after a nightmare, he refuses to admit).

And there's a second time too. A third close call, and Ben pushes you clean off the bed so you won't get hurt.

If that didn't do it, he finally gets the picture after the second pink line appears on that white stick.

It now lies on your nightstand while you and Ben lay tangled together, bare skin against bare, flushed, sweaty skin.

A celebration, if you will.

His big hand lies splayed over your belly, protective, possessive, and deep down...grateful.

You glance up at the patched ceiling. Ben follows your gaze. His contentment fades into a frown, just like yours.

Both of you are thinking the same thing, if in different flavors of concern. Anxiety. (Guilt.)

"It's different now. You know that, right?" you say quietly. "If we're going to do this, you and me together, then I need you to protect us. Protect us from you."

At this point, you know he won't see a psychiatrist for his PTSD; not if it's to help himself (God forbid he admit that he needs it).

But if it's to protect you and your child, his own child...

Ben swallows a few acidic ounces of his pride.

Despite every cell in body that fights against it, he gets in his car the very next day and shows up for the appointment you made for him with Dr. David.

("What kind of quack fucking doctor goes by his first name, anyway? Christ.")

After the first couple of painfully awkward sessions, it's not so bad, Ben discovers.

He has a willing (heavily paid) audience for all of his stories from "the good old days."

Every gushy detail.

Russell Shaw

Russell is always quick to give reassurances, to downplay, to tell you that he's good.

But the day he comes home from a job with his bag hanging from his fingertips, almost dragging on the floor, his movements stiff as a rail — your heart sinks into your stomach.

"Hey, baby," he greets you tiredly, even tries to kiss you, but you're too busy running gentle hands over his arms and chest. Searching.

"Hmm, someone's missed me. Miss Handsy-yy-ahhh..." His playful quip dies the moment you find it.

Under his jacket lies the shoddy patch job on the bullet wound in his arm, located a few inches below the shoulder, just barely hidden by his sleeve.

"What the fuck is this?" you snap, half in anger, half in worry as tears spring hot in your eyes.

Russell immediately goes into damage control, soothing a hand down your arm and meeting your gaze.

"Hey, I'm okay. It's just a graze."

"Yeah fucking right. You're still bleeding!"

"Ehh, yeah, but no biggie. I've got some tools in the car—"

"No! We're going to the hospital."

"Sweetheart—"

"Right now! Let's go."

The man doesn't have the heart to argue with you too much after that. He knows he should've taken proper care of this before he got home. He really just wanted to, well, get home. To you.

But he regrets scaring you. He regrets making you worry.

He brushes the tears from your eyes and is grateful you don't ask what happened. He can't really tell you, even if he wanted to. His contract work with Horizon keeps his lips sealed for your safety, above all other reasons.

Only now does he begin to realize just how fucking unfair that is.

It really hits him when you sit with him for an hour and a half in the Emergency Department, waiting after the guy who fell off his moped, a kid with a little green army man stuck up his nose ("Hey, retro," Russell whispers to you), and a lady who can't seem to stop hiccuping.

Russell takes in a deep breath. He leans over to your ear.

"You know, we could just fix this up at home. A little needle and thread and some alcohol. Perfect First Aid kit," he says.

You narrow your gaze at him. "We're waiting to see a doctor. And don't think I'm done with you. When we get home, prepare to get punished."

A little smirk tugs at his lips. He brushes said lips across the back of your ear. "What am I, a little kid?"

You smile slightly as well.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me when you're hurt and try to cover it up like a little kid, that's how I'm gonna treat you."

Russell chuckles. His hand slips over your thigh.

"Gotta say, I'm kind of liking the sound of punishment. What'd you have in mind, sweetheart? Gonna spank me?"

And he's willing to give you more ideas.

You roll your eyes. Despite wanting to remain strong, his touch, the sensation of his lips brushing your ear sends a shiver curling down your spine.

"Oh, you just wait."

AN: lol I always have so much fun writing these. Let me know which one was your favorite this time! 💕

@waynes-multiverse You gave me another perfect little tidbit for Beau on Man Flu that made it into this one. 😂

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Dean Winchester Imagines

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Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato

@mostlymarvelgirl @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @0ccvltism @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Hi there, I don't know if you're taking requesting at this moment but I'm gonna leave it here either way. I was wondering if you could do something regarding skz(any member you like or all of them, up to you :'D) where their s/o doesn't have any friend but hides it from them, thinking it might be embarrassing or pathetic, cuz they all have each other and she doesn't. But they find out somehow. Maybe she said she's going out but found her alone somewhere( park, library idk wherever you want lmao), and the rest is up to you ToT <33. Hope this makes sense. It's been way over a year since I moved abroad for studies and still stuck in the outer part of every circle lmaoo. Love love ABSOLUTELY LOVE your work. I'm so glad I found your work ToT. Thank you for existing with your creativity <333333

First off, youre brave for leaving home to go study. It’s takes a lot to uproot everything you know and love and go chase your dreams. I admire that kind of courage. So sorry for the late response, but I hope this brings you comfort ♥️

You tell him you’re going out. You even smile when you say it, and that’s the hardest part. Because smiling shouldn’t feel like lying, but lately, it does.

“Gonna go meet some people from class,” you say, slipping on your shoes, tying the same laces twice just for something to do with your hands. “We’ve been meaning to catch up.”

He smiles back, trusting you. Because why wouldn’t he?

Chan doesn’t question it. He doesn’t follow up, doesn’t pry, just gives you that soft nod he always does when he’s trying to be supportive without hovering.

“Have fun, yeah?” He leans in, brushing a kiss against your temple. “Text me when you get there?”

You nod.

You lie again.

You don’t go to class.

You don’t meet anyone.

You walk.

Not even aimlessly- which in your mind would have made it the slightest bit better. You know exactly where your feet take you. The long path toward the quiet park just past the river bend. A spot you’ve gone to more than once, with a worn bench that overlooks the water and a broken lamppost that flickers, even during the day. It’s safe here.

Silent.

You sit and watch the wind skim across the water’s surface, pretending it’s talking to you. Pretending you’re listening. Pretending this isn’t the only place you don’t feel out of place.

This city is full of people. You are surrounded by thousands every day. When you walk the streets you realize just how beautiful and intricate the world is, seeing new faces and sights everyday. So, so many things around you. People.

But it’s never been harder to feel seen. No matter how many circles you dip your toes into, the water never feels warm.

You hover on the edge of things, always invited, never included.

No one really waits for you.

No one really calls.

No one but him.

But he’s different. He has them. Eight brothers that orbit around each other like they were born to do just that.

They have matching hoodies and inside jokes and nicknames. They show up for one another- loud, chaotic, and whole.

You show up to group projects and fade into the background. You sit in full classrooms and still feel invisible. You eat lunch with your phone on the table, pretending not to care when no messages come in.

You don’t want Chan to know that.

You don’t want him to see it.

He’s warm and soft and kind and caring in ways you’ve never been able to describe without falling apart.

He gives you space, yes- but that space is filled with love.

It wraps around you like a sweater two sizes too big and just heavy enough to feel safe. You don’t want to ruin that with your loneliness.

You don't even know how you first met Chan, let alone how this… romance happened.

How his warm, snuggle, strong embrace became a part of your daily routine when you couldn't even find someone to stick around long enough to learn your name, your fears, your dreams.

So you lie.

“Going out with friends.”

“Group study.”

“Coffee with the girls.”

And then you sit on this bench, hands in your lap, watching the hours pass.

This.

The only other routine of your life. The same thing over and over.

You wondered how long you could keep your loneliness hidden.

You don’t even hear the footsteps until they stop right beside you.

“…You said you were going out.”

Your heart drops.

You don’t have to look up to know it’s him.

But you do. Slowly. Like maybe if you stall long enough, the truth won’t crack open between you.

Chan stands there, hands in his coat pockets, hair windswept and cheeks pink from the cold. He looks at you like he’s trying not to jump to conclusions.

Understanding and patient as always.

But his voice is already soft, too careful, too warm. And that’s worse.

You laugh. It’s thin. “I…did.”

“Out with friends, you said.”

You nod, but your throat’s tight. “Yeah.”

He looks at the empty bench. The overcast sky. The paper coffee cup by your side that’s clearly been there too long. The way your cuticles are already ripped from picking at them since he made his arrival known.

You didn't have to know he had been standing their longer than you realized. That he had sensed something was up for a few weeks.

Maybe he was wrong to have followed you. But he cared too much to not see if there was something that was bothering you.

You were too busy watching his face to acknowledge the gears in his head turning from the scene.

You swear his heart breaks a little when he puts it all together.

“How long?” he asks, quiet.

You swallow.

“I don’t know.”

He doesn’t ask what you mean.

He knows. God, of course he does.

“How long have you been coming here?” he tries again, gently, slowly sitting beside you like he’s scared you might run. “When you said you were meeting someone?”

You stare at your hands. “A while.”

Silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your voice breaks without your permission. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

His breath catches. That’s the one that hits him.

You force a laugh again, but it’s wet this time, your vision already blurring.

“I mean, look at you. You have them. You have a family in every way that counts. You’ve got people to lean on, talk to, yell across rooms to, joke with. I don’t even have anyone to text that I got home safe except you.”

You blink hard, trying to keep it together.

"Not that thats a bad thing!" You backtrack. "But...it’s pathetic. The only person I have to talk to is my boyfriend. Its burdensome. Embarrassing. I didn’t want you to see me like that. Like- some lonely girl who can’t even make a single friend in a city full of people.” You swipe at your tears furiously.

Chan says your name softly, but you shake your head.

“I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

There’s a pause. A heartbeat.

And then he says, quiet but firm:

“I could never.”

Your breath hitches.

“I mean it,” he says, turning to face you now, knees knocking yours. “I could never think less of you for something like that.”

“But I-”

“You moved across the world, alone. You chased your goals, even when it meant starting from zero. You’re brave. You’re strong. You don’t have to hide how hard it’s been. Not from me.”

You want to believe him.

But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

“I didn’t want to burden you,” you whisper.

Chan takes your hand. Carefully. Tenderly. Like you’re glass, but not as if you're fragile- just precious.

“You’re not a burden,” he says. “You’re a part of my life. I want to be there for all of it. Even the parts that hurt.”

Your chest caves in. A quiet sob escapes before you can swallow it down. And he’s already there, wrapping you in his arms, pulling you against him so your cheek rests on his shoulder and his hand cradles the back of your head like he can shield you from the weight of your own silence.

“I’m here,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not alone. Not now. Not ever.”

You cry harder at that.

Because it’s the first time in months it feels true.

He holds you until the shaking fades. Until your breaths come slower, easier. Until the wind quiets and your fingers find his, holding tight.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” he says, brushing your hair back from your face. “Not with me.”

You don’t talk much on the way home.

You think you should. Maybe say something light, make a joke, smooth over the awkward edges still hanging between the things you said and the way you cried into his hoodie. But Chan doesn’t rush you.

He walks beside you in silence, his hand in yours, and it’s the kind of silence that doesn’t ask you to fill it. The kind that just says I’m here. I’m still here.

You lean a little closer than usual. He doesn’t mind.

It seems he is deep in thought.

And when you step inside your apartment, the quiet settles again but this time it feels different. Not empty. Just calm. Like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.

Chan toes off his shoes, shrugs off his jacket.

You linger by the door.

“Want tea?” he asks, already heading to your kitchen like it’s second nature.

Because it is.

You nod, not trusting your voice yet. But your fingers twitch toward him, aching to hold something. Anything. Him.

He notices. He always does.

Without a word, he places two mugs down on the counter, crosses the room in three soft steps, and wraps his arms around you again. Just like before. No pressure. No questions. Just warmth. Just home.

You breathe in. He smells like chamomile and winter air.

“I didn’t mean to cry that much,” you murmur, voice small against his chest.

“I know,” he says, fingers threading through your hair. “But you needed to.”

A pause.

“I’ve cried over less,” he adds. “Like…when Felix dropped my protein pancakes that one time.”

You laugh, a little choked, but real. “You really liked those pancakes.”

“They had peanut butter and bananas. And the brand was discontinued. You don’t come back from that kind of loss easily.”

You bury your face in his hoodie. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

Your heart does a tiny somersault. You don’t say anything. Just squeeze him a little tighter.

Later, when you sit on the floor with a blanket wrapped around your legs while Chan moves around your kitchen like he’s been living here for years. He hands you a bowl of soup, still too warm to hold properly, and sits beside you, his shoulder against yours.

“You know,” he says, voice low, “you don’t have to keep it all in like that.”

You stare into your tea. “I know. It just…feels safer.”

He hums. “I get that. But carrying everything alone doesn’t make you stronger. It just makes you tired.”

That lands.

He lets it settle before he speaks again. “I’ve been there too, you know.”

You blink. “You?”

He nods, sipping from his cup.

“When I moved away from Australia…I didn’t know anyone. I had the guys, eventually, yeah. But at first? I didn’t have anyone to talk to. Even the people I did talk to...those relationships didn't feel...real you know? I’d go whole days without saying a word to someone who wasn’t part of a schedule.”

You look at him. “That’s hard to imagine.”

He smiles, but it’s small. “It was lonely. And I didn’t tell anyone, because I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t handle it. But pretending to be okay didn’t help. Talking about it did. And that's where I met true friends."

You don’t say anything. Just listen. Just feel.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me,” he says, nudging your knee with his. “Or strong all the time. Or happy if you’re not.”

You glance at him, suddenly shy. “Do the others know? That I don’t really…have people here?” You whisper quietly.

“No,” he says, gently. “But if they did, they’d never judge you for it.”

You nod. You almost believe it.

“Felix would probably cry and then bake you something. Changbin would probably introduce you to a bunch of the girls at JYPE- which I can do for you. They've seen you around a few times and ask me about you. I'm sure they'd love to be your friends.” Chan adds. He bites his lip in thought. “Hyunjin would probably ask you to be his muse for a piece of artwork- just to make sure you weren't alone. Seungmin would pretend he doesn’t care and then start inviting you to everything making some excuse to make sure you tagged along. Jeongin would bring you snacks. Food is something he loves and he'd want to share it with you. Since it makes him happy. Han would- well, he’d find a way to make it worse and then somehow better. He'd also probably be with Lix on the crying boat.” He chuckled.

You laughed softly too.

“And Minho?”

“He’d act like he already knew. Then he’d tell you you’re part of the family now, and you've been a part of the family, so deal with it.”

Your eyes sting, but not from sadness this time.

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong anywhere,” you admit. “Like I keep showing up to things hoping something will click, but it never does. And I start to wonder if it’s me. If I’m just…not meant to be part of anyone’s circle.”

Chan sets his cup down and turns to face you fully.

“You belong with me.”

That sentence cuts through every doubt like warm light through fog.

“I know it’s hard when the world feels like it’s moving without you,” he says. “But you’re not invisible to me. You’ve never been. I came up to you first, didn't I?"

Your breath catches.

“And if the people around you can’t see how amazing you are, that’s on them. Not you.”

Tears threaten again, but you manage a watery smile.

He reaches out, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re not a background character, alright? You’re the main one. And I’m not letting you forget that again.”

You lean into his touch. “You make that easy to believe.”

“Then let me keep doing that.”

He pulls you close again, and this time, you let yourself fall into it fully. No hesitating. No wondering if you’re too heavy, too quiet, too complicated to hold. No calculating the space you take up in someone else’s life.

Just…surrender.

You melt into his chest, your arms curling around his waist, and for the first time in what feels like months, your mind goes quiet. Not empty, not numb- just quiet.

Like the part of you that always keeps score finally sat down and closed the book.

Chan doesn’t say anything right away. He just breathes with you. One slow inhale, one slower exhale, like he’s teaching your body a rhythm softer than survival.

“You feel safe,” you whisper, before you even mean to say it aloud.

He smiles, lips brushing the top of your head. “Good. That’s what I want.”

And when he says it like that, you believe him.

His hand moves gently up and down your back, slow and steady, like he’s memorizing you by touch. Not to fix anything. Not to rush you out of what you’re feeling. Just to remind you: you’re here, you’re loved, and you’re not too much.

“I used to be scared of this,” you admit, voice muffled against his shoulder. “Of being known like this. Of letting someone see everything I’m trying so hard to keep together.”

“Yeah?” he says softly.

You nod. “But it’s different with you.”

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes- those warm, dark eyes that never ask for more than you’re ready to give.

“I know how to hold things gently,” he says. “Especially the parts of you you’re scared to show.”

You blink, and the tears come again but this time they fall without fear. No shame. No guilt. Just soft, steady release. And he’s already there, catching them with his thumb, brushing them away like they were never something to hide in the first place.

You don’t say thank you. Not because you’re ungrateful but because you know he knows. Because gratitude is stitched into the way your fingers cling to the edge of his hoodie. The way you let your weight rest against him, trusting him not to flinch.

You stay like that for a long time.

No pretending.

No hiding.

No masks.

Just two people in the quiet, where being known doesn’t feel scary anymore. It feels like breathing. Like healing. Like the beginning of something steady.

And when Chan finally speaks again, it’s in a whisper just for you:

“From now on, even if it’s just me- you’ll always have someone to come home to.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° he is in love

( bllk boys x gn! reader )

♡ a/n — part 2 to this little thing :)

♡ word count — 630

♡ content — multiple characters x reader, characters probably repeated , fluff, cutieness, gn! reader, NEL era, influencer! reader (one part), i think that's it, way longer than part 1- more fit with my new style

♡ synopsis — soft launches with the bllk boys!!

── .✦ you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home

never on social media. some would say that he simply is an enigma- one that has a social media presence with 3.4 million followers, but no posts. hardly posts on his story.

the most in depth look fans have ever gotten into his life was when he accidentally posted a story of them watching the little mermaid...does he scream the type of person to watch disney movies? maybe.

but fans are nosey, and as they zoomed in on the tv- in the smallest black part- they swore they could see another body- one that was wrapped around their soccer superstars!

it'd been months and the rumors of them having a secret relationship were still going strong, so imagine the fans reactions when they actually get a notification

' ... made a new post ! '

a new post? HIM? you bet your bottom dollar people immediately clicked, seeing the pictures with the caption

' where it's better :) '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, HIORI YO, shidou ryusei

he's known for traveling...a lot. yes, as a pro-soccer player, it's important for him to actually be at practice, but in the off season? he's on a plane 3 out of the 4 months he has off.

as long as he's not in an overseas scandal, his agency is okay with it- and his fans love the constant posting.

especially when he's in a tropical place and they get to see his stories of him with no shirt- but one day he posts a story and there's something strange...

his fans see it. he obviously doesn't.

the shadow taking the photo- it's hand has a strange shape- almost like it's making a heart towards him to get him to smile for the photo.

over night, his fans come up with many different speculations- some talking about how he must be in love with whoever is behind the camera because of 'the look in his eyes'

as if they'd noticed it before.

so when he makes a new post and his fans see those photos with the caption

'the eyes, chico. they never lie.'

yeah, they're goners.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ KARASU TABITO, oliver aiku, NANASE NIJIRO, jingo raichi

you're known for chronic brain-rot posting.

he's known for not posting at all.

for years he's popped up in your vlogs, being dubbed as your 'best friend' while your fans jumped on every single chance they could to prove you two were secretly together.

a hand on your waist so he could move past you? edits were made in the hour.

you two staring at each other and trying not to laugh? people swore they could feel the tension radiating off the two of you.

and...what are you two if not entertainers?

you were actually the one who posted it, tagging him as a collaborator so his fans and followers would see it too- with the caption

' god forbid the girlies want a secret relationship '

the comments didn't dissapoint

user59020: 'secret' yeah right, we saw you basically rip each others clothes off with your eyes

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, otoya eita, CHIGIRI HYOMA, michael kaiser

all he posts about is his cat. is he a pro soccer player? yes.

does he have a million fans that watch his every move, story, and post? also yes.

but what does that matter if he can't post about his beloved cat?

out of almost all of the soccer players in the world, he keeps a pretty low profile- mostly posting once a month to wish his cat a 'monthday'

the day he adopted the cat- by the month. i'm sure you understand.

so when his fans see that he posted...and it's not his cat? (kind of) they're shocked.

' kitty approved '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, alexis ness, BAROU SHOEI, kiyora jin

{ + YOUR FAVES!! }

the way i wrote the first part and THAT'S what rlly blew my account up...gosh :,)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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