#and if we're not doing that then whats the fucking point

[softness-and-shattering]

Thats a good point, I see all kinds of neurodivergence in my family but only a couple of us in my generation, afaik, have a diagnosis.

However, my gp attended a recent talk about overlap of queer folk with neurodivergence and also a group of comorbid illnesses including, iirc, POTS/MCAS/EDS/CFS theres a couple others Im just blanking. Digestive issues? Things that we've broadly noticed as a community, and it seems like its starting to be studied.

And also, everyone has some kind of trauma, idk how many people if any have no kind of disability whatsoever, humanity is vast and diverse. And we're wired to look for patterns. Interpret this information how you will, I certainly cant say for sure if these patterns are broader than trans people, or are more people trans than we expect, are we seeing correlation or causation or is there a mechanism in common with all these labels thats the deeper cause, is queerness an interchangeable/'sometimes' factor or a central one, we are way too early to know that yet.

I think its probably not nothing. But we're also not uniquely fucked up. Maybe we're just sticking out, so to speak, so thats where the research is starting. Many people werent taking ME/CFS seriously until long covid prompted more research bc, iirc, there was now a lot more people affected who were harder to ignore. And who were seeking help. Like a lot of people have an allergy or a dodgy wrist or "that weird thing with my digestion" and they dont consider it a disability or seek treatment, yknow? And especially mental health and especially what runs in families, it looks normal to you so why would you ever bring it up to a dr? "Everyone struggles with these things. Everyone feels this way" well you do and your parents and aunts and uncles do and your siblings do, and maybe you told a dr forty years ago you were in pain and they brushed you off so you thought everyone was walking around in agony.

And that gets into an adjacent conversation about medicalising and diagnosing and when does that help and when is it like, making a negative thing of normal human experiences and variations, its not a disorder till its negatively impacting your life, if youre surviving but treatment could help you thrive is it worth the side effects etc etc plus the whole discussion of psychiatry in particular which can be an amount of guesswork and diagnostic labels are often just patterns of symptoms that we see oftrn go together and we dont always yet understand the underlying neurology. (One of my all time best therapists kept up with the latest neuroscience and always had very good and effective suggestions. I only stopped seeing her bc I moved away. If you can be seeing professionals who are keeping up with research, definitely prefer them over someone who hasnt learned anything since they completed training 50 years ago. Always.)

Tl;dr I agree with OP and also this stuff is extremely complex and we're always learning new things about us!

something that should be taken with a grain of salt are the statistics talking about the high rates of mental illness + neurodivergence among trans people (ocd, bpd, adhd, autism, etc)

I see both sides of the political spectrum taking these studies at face value - conservatives say we're broken, and trans people try to come up with reasons why for example autism + gender dysphoria makes sense and why one of them feeds into another

at the end of the day you have to remember that we're the one category of people on this planet who are legally required to go see a psychiatrist in order to receive non-psychiatric medication and surgeries.

more trans people are in therapy by law than any other demographic of people, and as a result, this captures more comorbidities.

if I had to look at my own family & rates of mental illness?

mom, dad, 2 maternal aunts, maternal grandmother, paternal grandmother, sister, sibling, and me all have OCD.

7/9 of them are cishet, never been to therapy, never diagnosed. 2/9 are trans, required therapy for hormone treatment, and were diagnosed.

you don't have to do any math to just see that the resulting statistics end up intensely skewed.

and we can think back to how autism was virtually never diagnosed more than 50 years ago - ruling out any grandparents being included in statistics - and even my parents' generation (they're in their 60s now) wouldn't have been included either.

I don't think it's to anyone's benefit to accept these studies uncritically. a lot of these things are hereditary and far more prevalent in the overall population than people realize

[wileys-russo]

don't look back II l.williamson

don't look back II l.williamson

your body clock putting in a shift lately you weren't surprised to see it was hours later than you thought you'd be up, leah of course still very much dead asleep beside you, back turned and you could see her shoulders rising and falling a little the only sign of life.

you turned and attached your body to the defenders, slotting your leg in between hers and placing a tender kiss to her bare shoulder blade, the blonde not even stirring as you called her name softly a few times.

when a gentle approach didn't work, leah's eyes still shut and not even a grunt sounding, you sat up and shook her a few times, a tired exhale and some mumbled gibberish in response.

"lee, baby come on, wakey wakey." you cooed, poking at her cheek as the older girl scrunched her nose and grumbled something, pushing your hand away and scooting across the bed right to the very edge, clearly trying to move away from you making you scoff.

"leah how often do we both have the whole day off? it's like midday, we're running out of sun. please get up!" you groaned, shoving your girlfriends limp body as she sighed heavily, once again pushing your hands away.

"cmon don't be a pest babe, just let me sleep for a couple more minutes." the blonde mumbled tiredly, arms snaking around her pillow as she pulled it closer, eyes not even flickering open.

"you can sleep when you're dead leah. come on lets go for breakfast, coffee on me?" you scooted over from your side of the bed and ducked down to kiss her cheek a few times, getting nothing but silence in return.

"leah catherine!" with a huff you grabbed the extra pillow from the floor, sitting up and repeatedly whacking the older girl in an attempt to get her to stir.

you knew she'd been out late with the team last night after a big win, but mid season it was rare she'd drink enough to have this bad of a hangover, though you also couldn't quite remember what time it was she even joined you in bed.

"you're so annoying man. just fuck off and let me sleep if you can't lay here with me!" the defender snapped harshly, finally opening her eyes and snatching the pillow off you, hauling it to the other side of the room and turning onto her stomach with a grun.

"seriously? you're in this much of a mood? what did you do drink the bar dry last night?" you scoffed, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes down at her, rolling them at the singular middle finger which popped out in response to your question.

"m'not hungover, m'tired."

"leah you haven't even let me sleep in the same bed as you without a pillow wall for the last couple of weeks. i'm gone of a morning when you get up and you're gone of an afternoon when i get home. we both have the day off, and isn't the point of a relationship that you want to actually spend quality time together occasionally?" you accused, glaring down at her where her eyes remained firmly shut.

"need i remind you love the pillow fort is because we made a pact no more sex till the end of the season because it tires me out. and cause you've been on a weird sleep schedule with switching out from working nights. if you get in here with me and even so much as touch my thigh, one of us will crack and then it's no stopping from there, its a few more weeks babe you'll live." leah sighed, arm extending out and smacking around blindly until she found your leg, giving it a little squeeze in what she likely assumed was supportive, but really you were more than a little hurt by her blunt honesty.

"right. so I'm basically only here to fulfill your needs when you're horny, run to and from collecting your shit when you leave it laying around and can't find what you need, cook your meals, do your laundry and clean the place up when you trash it because you can't keep it tidy enough to find anything?" you started in disbelief.

"so basically i'm a glorified maid? yeah perfect enjoy your sleep in leah, maybe i can find someone else to give me a kiss every now and then, wish me good morning and grab a coffee with me like i'm not some chore." you spat, swinging out of bed and making a beeline for the door as your girlfriend hurried to sit up.

"no no hey babe wait you know that's not what i meant-" the girl started with a sigh, running a hand through her hair and pausing for a moment, blinking with a wince as her eyes adjusted making yours roll.

"actually no you know what? i don't need to explain myself you know i love you and just because i want a lie in on my day off doesn't mean i don't. stop being so sensitive!" the defender blew it off, flopping back down and turning her back to you.

even further in disbelief at how little this seemed to bother her and that she'd seem to only hear half of what you were saying your mouth was open and ready to really let her have it, all the two of you seemed to be doing together lately was to argue anyway.

but not bothered for the sharp tongued comeback which leah wouldn't mean but would no doubt hurt your feelings even more you decided to leave it.

pulling on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, grabbing the first shoes in reach you left, making sure to slam the door behind you to really send a message.

the winter chill settling in you looked back at the front door, contemplating going back for a jacket or a vest of some kind but with a sigh you decided against it and ran a hand through your rather disheveled hair.

really the only person first and foremost you wanted to talk to right now was leah, and when you'd first started seeing one another it seemed that all the pair of you did was talk.

for hours and hours you covered every topic big and small, you'd often even fall asleep on the phone together, playful teasing following the next day about whose fault it was you were both so exhausted after staying up much later than needed.

you were a paramedic so you were much more well adjusted to a lack of sleep than leah, in fact you weren't sure if leah actually could survive without eight hours a day, well warned by the blonde herself that she was not a morning person and incredibly grumpy.

though you seemed to be the exception to that, leah waking up purposefully early to meet you after your night shift for breakfast, bringing you flowers and showering you with compliments that had your ears turning red and her face painted with a victorious grin at the sight.

you'd always heard of the 'spark' of a relationship dimming, especially from older married coworkers who complained about a lack of romance and spontaneity, feeding this back to leah who would always reassure you with a soft kiss that only happened to 'boring old people'.

yet here you were drowning in the same reality your girlfriend had always gone above and beyond to assure you would never be so, quelling your fears and anxieties with her undivided attention and unconditional love as much as she could spare it.

sometimes you'd think back toward the first year of dating leah and your chest would hurt, all of the romance and the dates and the late nights and the flowers, and you found yourself wanting to scream for taking it all for granted.

nowadays it seemed you and leah were no longer dating, merely...co-existing perhaps? you couldn't quite pinpoint when the 'spark' had begun to dim but what was once a fully lit bonfire was now barely a smoldering ember and the worst part of it was how blind leah was to that even happening.

so though you craved your girlfriend, there was really only one person you felt like going to talk to now.

~

"so you're hanging out with me on a day off." your best friend commented as she sipped at her coffee seemingly amused.

"meaning?" you raised an eyebrow curiously, the blonde smiling with a small shrug. "i love you, but i am not normally your first call for a friday coffee anymore." alessia chuckled as you flushed pink with embarrassment.

"hey i'm just joking, unclench." the striker teased, kicking you under the table seeing the apology about to be hurled her way and the obvious worry in your eyes that she was actually upset.

"i've had years of coffee's with you, you know i've quite enjoyed the break really." the blonde hummed as you now kicked her and rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips.

"so not that i don't like seeing you, but i'm guessing there's a reason you called? you don't seem yourself." alessia guessed, tone softening and laced with concern as you sighed heavily. "oh its that bad? right come on then." the girl stood, nodding for you to follow her into the living room.

you wasted no time leaving your coffee on the side table and flopping down on the couch you'd slept on a few times now after other arguments with leah, though back then they'd usually blow over by the morning where she'd pick you up with flowers in the front seat and a hundred texts apologising.

but lately your arguments had been different, more personal, more hurtful, you knew one another like the back of your hand and as beautiful a connection that could be, it also meant that leah knew every little insecurity and doubt to pick at in order to hit you where it really mattered.

"okay. let it out!" alessia made herself comfortable in the armchair she'd dragged to sit across from you, legs crossed and somewhat resembling a therapist as you laid down on the couch and exhaled, taking a pause before word vomiting what you'd been holding in for weeks now.

"-and now its like she doesn't even care if i'm there or not, so why am i even there?" you finished, throwing your hands up as the room fell silent and alessia seemed to take a moment to process everything.

"oh my god she's your captain and your team mate and your friend less shit this wasn't appropriate!" you had a sudden realization as you sat up panicked and the blonde hurried to sit down next to you.

"hey hey no, it's fine, breathe." alessia inhaled and exhaled deeply as you copied her, nodding once you'd managed to slow your heart rate a little.

"yes leah is all of those things, but you've been my best friend since you cried at the school gate on the first day of school and my mum made me come over and ask if you were okay." alessia teased as you groaned and covered your face with a pillow.

"less that is not how it happened!" "that is absolutely how it happened."

"but meaning, leah is also my best friends girlfriend, and besides who was it that introduced the two of you anyway?" alessia reminded as you exhaled and she yanked the throw pillow from your grip, tossing it to the floor.

"i love leah yes, but the way she's treating you isn't okay. you're way more than just something warm she comes home to or someone who pairs up her socks and does her laundry." alessia squeezed your knee as you puffed out air in an attempt at a chuckle.

"she really is terrible at keeping her socks in pairs."

"you're also the girl in the stands she looks at every time we do the post game lap, and who makes her smile at her phone like an idiot, who she is always proudly boasting about and why she lies about needing to leave training ten minutes early so she can pick you up food before you get home from work." alessia smiled sadly which you returned, sighing when you realized you couldn't actually remember the last time those things had happened.

"but, i really think you need to tell her all of this though. i love you but you do sometimes think people can read your mind and know how you're feeling without you expressing it in the slightest." alessia poked your forehead as you huffed.

"thats not to excuse how she's been acting, but i think she needs the wake up call of hearing from you how she's been acting is actually making you feel." alessia promised as you nodded, the blonde pulling you in for a hug as you sighed and rested your head on her shoulder.

"i love you less." "i love you too, even if my mum forced me to be your friend." "that is not how it happened!"

~

pulling into the driveway you cut your car off and took a moment to collect your thoughts, having been driving around rehearsing what you wanted to say for awhile now until you'd charged up the courage to go through with it.

letting yourself inside you were surprised to see leah had actually moved from the bed, head turning to look at you from where she was sat on the lounge watching something, draped in a vintage arsenal tracksuit.

"you're back! babe where'd you go? i texted you, no reply." the blonde shook her phone at you, clearly having paid no mind to the argument you'd had this morning or else her first words may have been an apology, but you on the other hand weren't letting it go that easily.

"oh sorry i went to go and learn how not to be so sensitive." you pouted sarcastically as her once happy expression dropped, but you ignored it and walked off to the bathroom.

"christ i look a mess." you mumbled, wincing at the bags under your eyes and looking around for your brush to pull through your semi knotted hair.

"hey love come on don't be like this, i didn't mean what i said." leah rasped, arms encircling your waist from behind and resting her forehead against your back with a hum. "you know how i am in the mornings. how about we go for lunch yeah?" leah suggested as you rummaged through the vanity cupboard.

"fuck off leah." you muttered, pulling her arms off of you and finally grabbing your hairbrush, trying to walk off but her hand grabbed your wrist tugging you back toward her.

"babe i'm really sorry, you know i love you more than anything." the defender husked quietly, grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing your palm to her mouth with a kiss and a soft smile that normally would melt you like butter.

but today, all it did was make you angry.

"of course you do. i do whatever you want, whenever you want it. we fuck when it suits you, i go to your games, go out with your friends, come home from working a twelve hour shift and do your washing so you have a clean uniform for training." you wrenched your hands from hers and poked at her chest with every accusation.

"but when i want to actually spend a night sleeping with my girlfriend and have her touch me in a way thats filled with love and not just lust. thats not okay because you're like some horny teenage cretin who gets a metaphorical boner when i touch your thigh? we're both in our twenties and sleeping with a pillow wall between us, do you know how ridiculous that sounds leah?" you laughed but it was one of desperation and panic, not a drop of humor to be found.

"so i'm here for what? moral support? to look at? to play with when you're bored?" you questioned rhetorically, shaking your head and throwing your brush to the floor, making a beeline for the bedroom as you heard her scoff behind you.

"i am trying to make up for this morning and trying to show you that you're so much more to me and you won't even look me in the eye. if you don't want an apology then what the fuck do you want?" leah called out, tugging at her hair in frustration as you paused.

"what do i want? how about my girlfriend back i'd fucking love that leah, because whoever this is-" you spun around and paused to gesture at her. "-sure as shit isn't my girlfriend, or at least the one i remember falling head over heels in love with." your tone dropped in those last few words, pausing to squeeze your eyes shut and take a breath.

"baby i'm still here. i'm still me. i'm still your girlfriend and last time I checked you were still mine." leah replied with an air of confidence that made your stomach drop, really solidifying for you that she may have been listening to you but she wasn't hearing you.

"really? because last time i checked when you have a girlfriend you go on dates with them, you make time for them and you actually enjoy that time with them." you shook your head and threw your hands up.

"and you hold their hand, and you talk to them about anything and everything because you want to. you kiss them out of love and not obligation, you say good morning and goodnight and when you lay in bed with them you can hold one another without it turning into sex. and when it does turn into sex it's supposed to be filled with intimacy not just a quick fuck with no feelings attached and where you ignore the person afterwards and put up a pathetic pillow wall leah!" you spat, wiping a single angry tear that escaped.

"and if you can't see that lately you haven't been acting like my friend let alone my girlfriend, then maybe I should go stay with my parents and wait for whenever my girlfriend comes back, because I miss her leah." you finished as your voice cracked and your chest heaved with shallow breaths, waiting for her to say something, anything.

but when the silence became suffocating you shook your head and made your way to the front door. throwing it open you gave one last look back and could see the blonde begging you to stay with her eyes.

but you didn't want a look, you wanted words. words you knew she'd say after you were gone, words she thought you wanted to hear and that would get you to return to her but wouldn't contain any actual substance.

words that would come through voicemails and text messages and that would kill you to ignore, but if she wasn't hearing you through words, maybe silence was the only way to get through to her.

"i'll come back for some of my stuff later, goodbye leah." you muttered dejectedly, forcing your eyes away and stepping outside.

you paused to take a breath before wrapping your arms around yourself, giving the comfort and hug you'd been after from the blonde behind you for far too long now.

maybe your girlfriend would come back to you, or maybe she wouldn't.

[zepskies]

Heyo! So not sure how youd even write this from a story perspective— maybe headcanons r easier idk— but! What would Current SB/Ben say to his younger self (your choice on age) about his future? Whether it be from an introspective place, him talking fondly about his future family, etc — all you boo👍 Hope youre doing well!

Hey there! Thanks, I'm doing well and hope you are too!

Strictly speaking on story/fic requests, I'm only doing full fic requests on my Patreon, but occasionally I'll be able to do a short imagine/HC when something strikes me. For example, you pose a really interesting question. I think the answer would depend on Soldier Boy/Ben's level of growth/character development.

Like, if we're talking about Break Me Down version of Ben, for example, I've actually thought about this a bit before! If he had the opportunity to talk to his younger self, let's say in the 80s (shortly before Nicaragua):

What (BMD) Soldier Boy/Ben Would Say to His Younger Self

"You just think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ben says, crossing his arms at his younger counterpart.

"What? I'm at the top of my game?" Soldier Boy says. He smokes a joint, blowing up smoke casually and arrogantly.

Ben chuckles. "That's what you think."

Soldier Boy frowns. "The whole fucking world worships me. Whatever I want, I get. Women, picture deals, a fucking statue in front of Vought tower-- Hell, I've got hit after hit record on the top of the charts, for fuck's sake."

Ben just shakes his head. His rueful smile irks the other guy, but not as much as what he says next.

"And you're bored," Ben says. "You've got it all... But nothing's ever good enough, right?"

Soldier Boy's lips purse, but he doesn't have an answer. Not one he's willing to voice. Ben nods in understanding.

"It's all right. One day you'll find it," he says.

Soldier Boy frowns, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean, find it?"

Ben doesn't want to give away the punchline. This guy hasn't earned it yet. Not the way Ben knows he'll need to. Otherwise, he'll never understand what it all meant. What all those years struggling alone in the dark, and what betrayal, loneliness, and pain were worth.

No, he won't give it all away. But he'll give him this, at least.

"It's the simplest thing in the world," Ben says. "You're gonna meet a woman."

Granted, the way he met you was anything but simple. The way Ben sees it now, though, it is simple.

Soldier Boy's frown fades, his face turning wry. "A woman, huh? Think I've got plenty of those. Any time, any place, any way I want."

"Not this one," Ben says. He can't help a small, reserved smile when he thinks of you. "Matter of fact, she's going to test your last ever-fucking nerve, every day of your life...but you're not gonna be the same."

Ben thinks about the life he's built with you. He thinks about his daughter, Lila, and his son on the way. Ben pictures the house in his mind--Christmases, birthdays, wedding anniversaries, along with missions gone awry, and the fights and arguments that reverberated on those walls. Moments where his temper got the best of him, or your stubbornness made you dig your heels in. All of it is worth it.

"Then one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've got everything you need," Ben says.

Soldier Boy seems to take that in. He's still skeptical, but maybe secretly interested in the bright future lying in wait behind his older self's eyes, even though he doesn't want to show it.

"Yeah? And then what?" Soldier Boy asks, in a tone that scoffs, but Ben sees that he's serious too, and he's listening. He knows it as well as he knows himself.

Ben levels a pointed finger at him.

"All you need to do, is protect it."

AN: It's like the old Spiderman meme where he's pointing at himself. lol 💚

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[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: The Kooks show up on the beach and JJ defends you

I was with the Pogues all day, like any other day. The sun was shining and the waves were awesome. We woke up that morning and quickly went to the beach. It seemed like everybody had that idea, the beaches filled up within ten minutes it seemed. We got the Twinkie to the beach, well John B did, but not without almost crashing since he was drinking. I tried to tell him to stop, but there was no telling that kid what to do.

I never really was taught how to surf, but that didn't stop me from going out there and just sitting on my surfboard. JJ has tried to help me, but I'm just not very coordinated, to say the least, but he still loves me. I watched everybody surf for a while before deciding to go back to the beach. As I was walking back to the Twinkie, I saw a Jeep start driving over my way. I knew it was Topper and his goons as soon as I saw the vehicle. I sat down on one of the folding chairs we had set up before going to the water, trying to ignore them. I watched as he parked next to us. "What the hell is he doing?" I heard someone ask, looking to see Kie walking over to me.

"I have no clue," I replied, "I just hope no drama happens. It's a nice day and I would hate to have it ruined by them.” I looked over to see Topper, Kelce, Rafe, and Ruthie. I've never liked Topper, but I don't think he's a bad person. I think he's so focused on Kooks versus Pogues, that nothing else matters. It's always been a competition between the two. "I don't understand how he goes from Sarah," I gesture over to Sarah, still surfing, "to Ruthie." I look over to where the Kooks are and see Ruthie glaring at us.

"Well, it's simple," Kie started, "he had the best with Sarah, and now he's just, well, desperate." We both chuckled. I looked over at Kie and saw her grabbing a beer from the cooler, she raised one up to me and I shook my head. I know that there should be at least one of us sober to drive home. "Kie, we're being real mean girls-esque right now," I pointed out. She shrugged her shoulder before responding to me, "Trust me, she's said way worse about us." Kie came over and sat next to me. We sat there for a while before we heard someone walking over to us.

"Hey, can you tell your asshole boyfriend to stop hogging all the waves?" I look up and see Ruthie talking to me, not even acknowledging Kie. I look out and see JJ standing up on his board, noticing Topper doing the same thing before jumping off into the water due to JJ getting in front of him. If it was any other situation I would mention something, but I also know JJ wouldn't do that to someone else. "Ruthie, I can't control what he does," I look up to her hovering over me, "he's out there and I'm over here." She rolls her eyes at me, "You're such a bitch. Can't you just do something for once in your life?" she asks me, it was more of a statement than anything.

"Ruthie," I stand up and walk in front of her, "if JJ comes over here, I'll say something, but until then, how about you go back to your friends and leave us alone." I turned around and started to walk over to the Twinkie, looking at Kie and rolling my eyes at the whole interaction. I didn't get too far before I felt hands on my back, pushing me forward. "What the fuck," I heard Kie shout before coming over to me. I looked back at Ruthie and rolled my eyes at her. “Can't believe you were ever a Kook," she said with attitude before walking away from us.

Kie started to go after her, wanting to protect her friends, but I pulled her back, "Kie, it's not worth it," I told her, "they'll just turn it into our fault if you do anything." She tries to argue with me, but I just sit back down in the chair, trying to forget the interaction. I'm fiddling with my nails when I hear someone ask, "Hey, you good?" I look up to find a shirtless JJ jogging over to me with his board under his arm. I look over and see Sarah and John B getting some drinks from the cooler. I didn't even notice they were back. I nodded my head at JJ and gave him a small smile. He came and squatted down to be level with me, he took my hands, "What happened?"

"Ruthie," I replied looking back down, "she came over and was talking shit. Normal Kook behavior." I looked up at him before I heard Kie, "She pushed her, but your girlfriend over there decided to take the high road. Wouldn't even let me go after her." I looked over at Kie and gave her a look, not wanting her to have said anything. I look back to JJ who is looking over at the group of Kooks. "JJ, it's fine," I tell him placing my hand on his cheek, trying to calm the storm that is forming. He quickly stood up and started walking over to them. I quickly got up and went after him to stop him, but not before Topper yelled over at us, "Oh, look who it is, the Pogue prince and princess."

I took JJ's hand in mine, trying to calm him down. I felt him squeeze my hand tighter, letting me know he was fine. "Topper, let's cut the bullshit," JJ said in an annoyed voice, "all we wanted to do was enjoy the waves and the nice weather but you always seem to be right there, ruining it; your girlfriend too." Topper chuckles at JJ and gets closer to him, "I'm not the one ruining it. You pushed me off my board, and Ruthie here was just defending me."

"I didn't push you off your board, you jumped off," he stated with a small smirk on his lips. "Plus, you had been getting in front of us every other time, I thought it was a competition." Topper scoffs at JJ. I had only seen JJ get in front of Topper that one time, but it didn't surprise me that they had been getting in front of JJ beforehand. "Yup," Topper dramatically throws his hand up in the air, "it's always the damn Kooks fault with you guys."

"Seriously Top," I interrupted getting closer to him, "You've always hated the Pogues, don't act all high and mighty. You've started shit with them so many times I can't even remember. Even when we were friends you were an asshole to them." He looks at me with wide eyes, "I can't imagine what Sarah ever saw in you." As I turn my back away from him, I'm quickly pushed to the ground. "What the fuck!" I hear JJ yell before helping me off the ground. I wipe the sand off my legs and turn to face them. Ruthie was smirking at me, proud of herself. Topper was staring at her with a hint of anger in his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch her again," JJ said to Ruthie, but it was directed towards the entire group. I started walking away, not wanting to even be on the beach anymore. I overheard JJ add, "Don't even come near her or I'll fucking end you."

I heard his feet shuffle in the sand to catch up with me. He took my hand and faced me towards him. "I'm so sorry princess," he said before he engulfed me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and he placed a kiss on the top of my head. "If they ever bother you again," he says and places his hands on either side of my face, looking at me, "please tell me." I shook my head at him before he put his arms around me and pulled me into another hug. I've never felt more safe than when I'm in his arms.

We walk back to where the rest of the group is standing. They started asking questions about what happened and we told them. "How was I ever with him before you," Sarah asks looking over at John B. He shrugs his shoulders before we all chuckle at her, trying to in fact imagine what she saw in Topper. We packed up our things and left soon after, not wanting to be on the beach any longer.

We drove home and quickly unpacked our things before we went to the house. We were stopped at the door by Pope, with bloody hands. The atmosphere taking a drastic change from earlier.

I started this with a different ending in mind, but it didn't go in that direction so here we are... Not my favorite but it's what I got lol

[necarion]

Ah, yes. A raging imperialist who *checks notes* voted for full statehood for Puerto Rico and had a major campaign platform for bringing economic development and recovery funds to it. Who wants to ensure that Ukraine is not conquered by Russia, according to the wishes of the Ukrainians, and who supports a strong NATO that keeps Eastern Europe from being attacked by an imperialist Russia. Who, along with Joe Biden, has been pushing (ineffectively, I agree, but much of that is because Israel and Hamas and Hezbollah do not appear to want ceasefires) for a ceasefire in Palestine and a two-state solution.

Yes, she supported a strong US military. But it drives me fucking nuts when people call America "imperialist" when it is not, in fact, conquering anyone, or planning to! Who supports the current status quo of "nobody gets to conquer anybody!"

There are currently two imperialist countries right now, in the sense that they rule over people different from their core ethnic identity who do not want them there, and do not get any sort of representation in the national government. Russia is the last remaining European imperial power, having conquered a huge land empire, and which wants to regain its territories in Ukraine and Eastern Europe. And China has instituted repressive concentration camp-style actions in Tibet and Xinjiang, and seriously wants to conquer Taiwan so it can have it back on the map. The US is no longer in Afghanistan, and is in Iraq at the request of the democratic Iraqi government (which we've been letting call basically all its own shots since about 2015) and have fewer military bases around the world than basically any point since World War II.

Is the US a sort of world hegemon? Sure, I guess. We're biggest and richest and most powerful. People take seriously what we say because we have muscle to back up the claims. But also, there are a lot of problems in the world that would be better if the US actually did have the ability to force other countries in our sphere of influence to do what it wants. A bunch more democracies in Southeast Asia. Turkey and Hungary that aren't autocratic and a Turkey that isn't attacking the Kurds. Germany that isn't fucking useless right now. A goddamned two-state solution in Israel/Palestine (which the US has been pushing for for decades). Any fucking democracy at all in Saudi Arabia.

Could you call Kamala Harris a "jingoist", then sure, I guess. Primarily in the "make our military strong enough that Russia and China don't try to invade anyone else" sense. An "America, Fuck Yeah!" politician, then yeah.

But I'm really sick of the "imperialist" line.

I just saw someone say “Im glad Kamala didn’t win because I don’t want our first female president to be a raging imperialist.” What do you think the president of the United States of America is?

[biancadoes1]

Remember when Nicola said people want her to marry Luke in probably one of the most esteemed articles about her to date? And she gushed about how special their friendship is but didn’t say that they’re only friends or even didn’t say “like cute but that’s never going to happen”, in fact she didn’t even have to mention him because she wasn’t really asked about him?

And remember that Nicola is doing an audiobook about an actress on a regency era show falling in love with her costar after feeling a spark doing their scenes? And it’s coming out the day before Luke’s birthday?

Those are all fun things to remember

Yeah the amount of people that tried to reach to explain why she brought up people wanting her to marry Luke was far too many and the excuses that came with them were very entertaining.

While I may have questions about why that quote was likely added to the online version and not to print (speculation but the paper moon she gave us only had one meaning that week), there's really no explanation that equates to being just friends or only friends.

The fire was simmering on the ship until that point. She poured gasoline on it with mentioning Luke and marriage in the same sentence.

Combine this with the damn audio book she's got coming out?

We almost wouldn't need chaos week - but I'm so thankful we do have it.

I know it gets hard being on the ship when we go long stretches with nothing and everything from everyone else but just remember to have patience. We're all here for a reason and we've all stayed (I feel like I've been put through the fucking ringer man) because of what we've been given.

Hopefully we're getting closer to something.

[space-blue]

I wish it would be any other example... If only because I live in a hostel community, and we had a guy literally called "creepy Carlos" aka "the chicken fucker".

The issue is that he was a major creep who would try to flirt his way into the pants of any breathing woman around him.

He made basically everyone uncomfortable.

Then one day his dorm got too bad, and the head cleaner had them do a deep clean, and Creepy Carlos wasn't home. So someone else found the raw chicken and stick of butter that he was keeping in his bed.

He got kicked out. It was kind of an excuse at this stage.

My issue is that even in this situation, the only harm done was potential contamination for others who didn't consent to live with raw poultry in their bedroom, and women at large being uncomfortable.

No REAL harm was done. But you can't walk out of such an incident, having lived with creepy Carlos, and not be predisposed to distrust a raw chicken fucker.

I've also rubbed elbows with some unhigenic guys who didn't wear protection, and if I learned the one flirting with me was fucking dead chickens, I'd be very concerned with his dick. It is his own, yeah, but what if he's trying to get it inside me? I'd want to know it's spanky clean, that he uses protection before going in that chicken carcass. And even then, if I'm coming after the chicken, I feel like I have a right to be emotionally creeped out and back out.

Is there a moral wrong in not disclosing you fuck dead chickens occasionally?

When does "it's his dick, his freedom" loses meaning because he's trying to get that same dick into someone?

Finally, if he goes in that chicken unprotected, it's a risk of disease, and if he knows that, then he's potentially creating extra work for an already heavily burdened medical system. If he isn't honest about his practices, it could take a while for a GP to figure out it's salmonella on his penis lol anyway, if he's a difficult enough case, he'd be literally slowing access to care for other people.

So while I may not apply my morals to someone's sex life, fucking a chicken CAN have social implications and could lead to harm, unless we're making actual straw men who are perfectly moral and extremely careful in the practice.

And if your persona outside of chicken fucking is that of an enormous creep with no strong understanding of consent, then it's not shocking when a bunch of people develop a strong feeling around raw poultry as side pieces.

Just to be clear, I don't think you're wrong on any point. I just feel like it's a bad example. Especially considering someone's sex life can very easily become "your" sex life. This example is just way too convoluted.

Oh my god. I need to share another story of my new friend making today. So my friends husband says, very casually, as we’re about to leave for the ren faire, “Yeah, it’s like my story about fucking a chicken.”

And of the four people present I was the only one who was shocked. The others all nodded as if to say, yes yes, we know, the chicken fucking.

So he explained, when a progressive person is analyzing a behavior they will typically use the metric, Harm/No Harm. They may not like things in the No Harm category but they wouldn’t object.

Conversely, a more conservative mindset used something like eight metrics. Authority/No Authority Moral/Not Moral, things like that.

So, he posited if you want to sound out someone’s mindset (and you’re willing to live with the repercussions) you can ask: if a man buys a dead chicken from the store, cleans it thoroughly, then fucks it, and then eats it himself…?

I listened in dawning horror, both rapt and disgusted. But into the growing pause I whispered, “No harm…” because it really has no effect on me or anyone else if a man fucks a dead chicken. I don’t like it, I think he’s a weird dude, but like. That’s his dick. But a more conservative person will hear that and object on moral grounds despite not being harmed.

It’s been haunting me all day, so please enjoy.

[xerotiny99]

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day // Our Precious #6

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day (Our Precious #6)

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Pairing(s): main - Park Seonghwa x Reader. Side - Reader x Jeong Yunho, Reader x Kang Yeosang

Warning: smut, hardcore smut, soft dom!seonghwa, dom!yunho, dom master!yeosang, sub!reader/slave!reader, breast stimulation, teasing, biting and marking, DD/LG, seonghwa has a feeding kink (does not overlap with fat fetish), praise kink, food play, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming, thigh riding, nipple play, bits of master-slave dynamic, rough sex, manhandling, cum play/cum shot, dirty talk/degradation (just know yunho has a filthy mouth), size training (vaginal), etc.

Note: do not proceed if you’re uncomfortable or triggered by any aforementioned tags.

Gist: it’s the weekend and you finally get the time to spend it with your “boyfriends”.

Taglist: @t3kandson @therealcuppicake @sebastianswhore13 @solisyeah

Total Word Count: n/a

Part Three [6.3]: That's a Long Stretch

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader (ft. Choi San, Jung Wooyoung, Song Mingi)

Warning: dom!yunho, sub!reader, fingering, size training, spit play, degradation, dirty talk, frottage (non-penetrative sex), etc.

Song Rec: Cloud9 by Alex Lustig ft. Makk Mikkael, Night After Night by Black Atlass

Gist: Yunho's and Mingi's blow up ruins the peace of your evening, what's even more disturbing is that they're feuding over you. The aftermath of their altercation leads to Yunho fucking out his frustration on you.

Word Count: 12,347

           "Fuck, marry, kill," you drag your words to the point of slurring them with enthusiasm and tease.

"Alright, but what are my options?" San mumbles.

"Wooyoung, Yeosang and Jongho," you mutter the bits, clasping your teeth on your lower lip to prevent any further noises slipping off your tongue.

"What in the fuck—these options are skewed," San whines, narrowing his eyes on you. "But gun to my head, fuck Jongho, marry Yeosang, and kill Wooyoung."

You mimic a pesky gasp, "you'd kill your boyfriend?"

"We're not dating," San deadpans, fingers pressing along your calves. "In the current times, we would probably go by some silly term—oh, like fuck buddies."

"Does he know that?" you pace your words slow, taking in the slightly twitch on his face as you mention it.

San begins with a little shrug, "One might argue that I may—okay, you're so irrelevant right now. I thought we were playing twenty-one questions." as his voice raises at you, he rolls his eyes and lets a curl tug at his lips. "It's my turn now, isn't it?"

"I guess," you shrug your shoulders and lean back onto the armrest of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

You hear San musing in mere mumbles before he speaks up, "who in our loft, given the opportunity, would you be interested in dating or getting serious with?"

"We're not in middle school, San," you joke, slightly raising your head to meet his eyes, which were fixed on you. "You already know it, don't you?" you mutter monotonously, groaning, "geez, you just want me to say it out loud." 

"Accept it, Angel," he gushes, his dimples popping on his cheeks, "you like him. You turn into a sixteen-year-old when he's around you."

"I so do not."

You pout and look away; the alluring haze of sunset shines over every surface in the living room, including your phone kept on the coffee table. Spending your evening with San was never on your bingo card, but when every other person in the house had gone out to carry on with their nightly plans, you had no choice. San worked as a bartender at a local bar, he had no where to be until the dawn of the night. So, he was the only one keeping you company. Though, you weren't exactly alone with him; Wooyoung was cooped up in his room, his and San's room, but whatever, he had locked himself in and no one knew what he was doing.

To tally your thoughts, it was you, San and Wooyoung in the loft. Touché. You weren't familiar with San, and him suggesting a game of twenty one questions, wasn't a bad idea. It was actually helping you two to bond with each other. In much more sterner perspective, you couldn't really get Yeosang and your's session out of your mind; you weren't sure if it was his personality which was unforgettable or the fact that he never really got those orbs out of you. He'd be a jerk if he did it on purpose. Maybe he left them in because that was his way of punishing you. Oh, he really was a dick if that was his intention.

Every time you moved on the couch, you could feel the balls rub against each other and your walls, clenching your cunt around them to stimulate a plodding orgasm. You laid on the couch with your legs sprawled onto San's lap. Your phone buzzed with a melodic song — some random song which started playing from your liked songs playlist. The sinking sun, a much euphonic melody in the background, and San's causal touches which drifted along your calves and legs, you were living the best of your evening. Until San teased you with the question you had been dreading to answer.

"There's no harm in admitting it, Angel." San's chortle grows a notch louder, "you're not the first one to have a crush on him. Besides, he definitely likes you back."

You grow eager listening to him, almost as much as to sit up straight and wiggle your legs in his lap. "You think so?"

"He really does," he emphasises and rolls his eyes, "between us, he didn't agree to our proposition at first. You know, the whole sharing thing."

"He didn't?" you gawk, "I thought it was his own suggestion."

San's brows draw in together on his forehead and he mumbles, "just to be on the same page, we're talking about Jongho, right?"

"I mean," you look away, twirling a tendril of your hair around your finger, "Jongho is a great guy. I admire him. But..."

"I'm kidding, I know you were thinking Yunho in your head," he leans back on the couch, smirking at you. "I was talking about him anyway."

"It's just—it's something about him, you know. He drives me insane," you purr, "he'd be doing nothing, and I'd still drool over him. He will be drinking his morning coffee, and I'll be getting wet just watching him drink it."

"T-M-I Angel," San spells out, eyeing you with an amused gaze, "and on an honest note, you, my friend, are dickmatised." his lips flip into a frown, "you got dicked down by him once, and now you're obsessed. Like, his dick was so good it permanently altered your brain chemistry, forcing you to worship him."

"I hate you for being so right," you grumble, "you're absolutely right. It all makes sense, whatever you're stating. Have I really been turned into a ditz who likes to suck dicks?"

San nods, his lips casing into a soft pout, "yet I've never gotten mine sucked from you."

You roll your eyes, slumping back down on the couch, "don't ask me. After getting viciously throat fucked by Yeosang, I don't have the energy to."

"Did not asked for it, though," he mutters, sliding his fingertips along your exposed thighs; his soft touch sends shivers through your cunt, especially since you were still being tortured by the two metallic spheres snugged in there.

"How was your first time with Yeosang, by the way?" genuine curiosity crosses over his face, eyes twinkling into thin lines as his lips curve.

"Surprising, bewildering, insanely unexpected," you muse, rolling out your shoulders; you stare at the ceiling and ponder, "don't mind me, he seems very closed off, reticent even to be into those kinks. No one, not a single soul, in their wildest dreams, would imagine him as someone who dabbles in sadomasochism."

"The quiet ones are always freaky."

You retort, "Wooyoung is freaky. And he's not even quiet."

"My theory can be flawed." He shrugs and slides his hands further up on your inner thighs.

It was not a good idea to wear a skirt. After your "little" session with Yeosang, you got back to your room and changed into your clothes; Yeosang's sweatshirt was kept in your closet, with neat folds and the whiff of his scent mixed with yours. You grabbed whatever you could from your closet, and it turned out to be this outfit: a simple oversized graphic tee, and a plaid skirt. Laziness got the worst of you, so you didn't bother diving back in for better clothing options. Besides, you were beyond lethargic, feeling spent and tired after your affair with Yeosang, to plan your outfit.

When the lunchtime rolled around, Jongho invited you over to his room with the promise of Chinese takeout. So, you spent the lunchtime in his room, the one he shared with Mingi; you ate, watched a random chick-flick movie and halfway through it you started making out with him. Things did not escalate further as Seonghwa barged in and asked Jongho to accompany him to the gym. And so, your boredom drenched evening kicked off. Eventually, it was only you, San and Wooyoung in the apartment. Everyone else had gone out to do their usual routine of a weekend night; Hongjoong was busy at his boutique, Seonghwa went to meet his work colleagues at a restaurant, Jongho was forced outdoors to a frat party by his college friends, and Yeosang said he had to meet a prospect client for some design work. You had no idea where Mingi and Yunho were, though. And their absence was too loud in the loft. Besides, you were even bewildered to know Yeosang, the man who never really left the loft, had gone out to a buzzing cafe at night.

Pouting, you sulked on the couch, with a random book in your hand from your reading heap, and waited around to catch anyone's attention. And you caught San's attention. He found you listlessly lying on the couch, the book in your hand strewn across the coffee table and your phone blasting some songs he had never heard of before. Looking at him and taking a note of his outfit, which by the way, was a simple sweatshirt and joggers, you could tell he had no plans of leaving the apartment any sooner. So, as time ran past its end, you and San got together on the couch and played the very austere game of twenty questions to get to know each other better.

"Well, but I agree. Looks can be deceiving—what are you doing?" you whimper, noticing the warmth of his fingers ascend along your inner thigh and closer to your dripping cunt. 

San simply offers you a halfhearted shrug of his shoulders and continues with his ministrations; his fingers trace in straight lines, dipping into your flesh as they tickle your skin. Sitting up straight to your own desperate whims, you catch him with a mischievous smirk across his face. You want to squirm away from his touch but being pushed to your utmost limit on your satisfaction, you stay in place and let him do as he pleases. Some part of you was eager to know how it would unfold. Untamed by your avidity, you wrap one of your hands around his wrist and give him a nudge. A gentle push to have his fingertips graze your wet cunt; you whimper at the soft caress which soon delves into an aggressive stroke of all his fingers.

"You're really wet, sunshine," he mutters under his breath, his eyes fixed on your face. "Let me guess, Yeosang?"

"Yeah," you breathe out, nodding your head lightly, "he—he kept them in..."

San hauls a gentle titter before shifting himself in his place to turn himself around, facing you with an absolute haughty grin. "And you did not take them out because?"

Your body shudders, "because I know he'd punish me for it. And that he's a jerk—he's a jerk behind the whole innocent facade."

A wrinkle in time bubbles out your desperation and San pulls you close to him by your waist; his other hand stays in between your legs, drawling out delicate brushes of his fingers. Halfway propped up against his lap, your legs are folded from your knees while you angle your back in a way to give him better access. He has you trembling under his touch. Willing to the oncoming consequences, you spread your legs wider. The sight in front of him was a sheer delicacy to feast on; your wet panties, showing off the dark patch in the centre and how flimsy material was to wrap around your folds, defining them. Your skirt furls around your waist, fluttering down as San continues to palm your mound through your wet panties.

Tears well in your eyes, ready to pour out any given minute as it becomes too much for you to handle; it reels you back to Yeosang's room, how desperately you were getting aroused, courtesy to the balls he had stuffed in you. You peek at San, lower lip lolling on your chin, and wrap your hand around his neck to pull him in. He hesitates a little when your lips meet his, lapping up and teeth tugging at his lower lip. San continues to rub you through your panties, grumbling into the kiss as his other hand rests gentle on the side of your waist. Starved in lust, you devour his lips, pressing the kiss further into a hot and heavy make out. You pull back only a little to drag your tongue along his chin and up into his parted mouth; his warmth forces you into a frenzy of desperation, your tongue slithering with his and lapping up against every cranny in his mouth.

You start rolling your hips into his hand, wanting more of the heavenly friction his fingers offered. "Fuck, San. Your fingers feel so good."

"Hmmm," he moans softly, and paces the grinds of his fingertips in a placid manner, teasing out your arousal.

Too bothered by his warm tongue wrapping yours, you let him continue with the gentle fidgeting he drawls on to move your panties to the side. You straighten your back and withdraw your tongue from of his mouth; spit glimmers against his tanned skin, it covers up an inch till his chin, more of it dribbling down his lips. Tightening your fingers in the tuft of his hair which sits neatly on the nape of his neck, you push yourself back into the kiss. This time you roll out your tongue over his lips, prompting him to do the same. Both of your tongues tangle into each other, spit drooling down your chins and lips. San pushes the tips of his fingers along your slit, having finally gotten your panties to the side. Your gummy walls clench around the balls, while his forefinger brushes against the nifty chain dangling from your hole. Pulling back and disentangling your tongues, you peer at him with your teary eyes. You wanted to guilt trip him into taking the balls out of you; it was starting to get painful, teasingly painful. For once and for all, you wanted to achieve the high of your release without having been put through the torment.

"Take—take it out, San. Please." you plead with sheer despair, inching your hips forward for his finger to slide up and down your slit.

San grunts through his chest, "I can't—I can't help you, sunshine. Yeosang might discipline both of us, if I do, and he won't be gentle, not at all."

"But—"

"—I know, sunshine. I know," he smiles pitifully and leans in with his tongue sticking out; you pout and roll yours out as well, lapping it up with his until you wrap your lips around his tongue and give it a good suck.

Amidst the heated pleasure, San's forefinger and middle finger prod at your hole, slipping in with ease because you were beyond aroused; your wetness had coated every inch of your folds, making it convenient for him to slide his digits in. When his fingers curl inside you, alongside the snug little orbs, you hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself straight. Nails digging into his skin through his sweatshirt, make you realise how riled you were. Your lips are still wrapped around his tongue and eventually the kiss dwindles to soft suckles of each other's tongues. Squeezing San's shoulders in between your hands, you throw your head back and arch your neck. San takes it as an opportunity to dip his head in and trace light kisses up your throat and then gradually under your jaw. His fingers pushed and pulled, the tips grazing against the balls to stuff them deep in you.

"San, don't stop. Go deep—"

Thud!

"How many times have I asked you not to go there?" a loud voice booms through the vestibule after the door is slammed shut. The mere vibrations echo out to you, startling you and San with the sudden intrusion.

Flinching away from each other, you and San exchange wide eyed gaze before another voice yells back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry I didn't take your permission before going to meet my girlfriend!"

At this point, you both knew the row between the friends had gotten heated, both sounding too frustrated for any good. You always took Yunho for a soft-spoken guy, the kind who would never raise his voice at anyone; although, you couldn't say the same for Mingi, you always assumed he'd be loud enough in arguments. Unfortunately, you couldn't have been more wrong about your baseless judgements. Yunho's voice was the most prominent one, a little high pitch underlining his coarse and raspy baritone. On the other hand, Mingi muffled his words because of his sonorous voice.

"Are you being fucking serious right now, Mingi?!" Yunho yells, the sound too boisterous for you two.

San ceases the movement of his fingers and pulls his hand away from you; footsteps get heavy, ascending your way. You're shushed by San, his finger on pressing your lips before you could vocalise your concerns. The pair shuffles in, however lost in their own squabble to notice your presence in the living room. Eyes wide and mind in the state of bemusement, you watch Yunho bite down on his lower lip as he storms into the kitchen, Mingi following right behind.

San brings his hand around yours from your lips, tugging on it gently to get your attention, "you do not want to be in this crossfire."

Prompting you by your hand, San drags you from the couch and you willingly follow him upstairs; the two of you hadn't been under the light for Mingi or Yunho to realise you were there. Maybe, they were too fixated on their fiendish disputation to notice anything around them. Your feet are soft on the stairs, preventing any creaking or sounds to usher the two of your presence; San halts himself at the top of the stairs and so do you. There had been an undying urge in you to listen to their stentorian argument, so you acted on your curiosity and leaned against San, both peering into the living room to catch a glimpse of the two hotheads.

"And what, you don't get to derogate me while being a fucking hypocrite!" Mingi squalls.

Yunho retorts with a belittling laugh, "at least that's better than fucking around with a bitch who has no affection for me."

"Keep Lani out of this," Mingi lowers his voice, but it's almost threatening, "I haven't dragged Angel into this. Not yet."

"And dare if you do," Yunho replies, "unlike Lani, Angel has some standards."

"Yeah, I'm sure that whore does."

"What did you say?" Yunho retaliates, his voice booming loud against the four walls.

"Nothing," Mingi sternly replies.

Silence befalls, taking you off guard; you turn to San and whisper with a pout, "what is happening?"

You wanted to voice your concerns you still had the chance to.

"It's one of those times," he mumbles, "they both get too worked up over minor matters. And I don't need to tell you bout this one, do I?"

"Yeah, I got the gist of it from their colourful language, but why me?"

San shrugs, "you know, they both can be really stubborn when it comes to someone..." He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around your waist, "someone they, ummm, care for."

"Oh..." you trail off, latching yourself onto San's arm and leaning forward to get a good listen to what was happening downstairs, "but it's not like I'm purposely trying to wedge a fight between them."

San takes a deep breath, heaving it out with partial unease as you push your chest into his arms; your tits smush up against his bicep, the fleshy sensation flustering him to the point where you peek up at him unknowingly and find his cheeks in the prettiest shade of red. He's timid and shy, probably not the kind of guy to initiate anything; even if he does, he will weigh all the consequences in his mind and hesitate to act on his feelings. Though, you're disgruntled by Yunho's and Mingi's argument. It was clear you were the centre topic of their altercation. You had no such intentions however.

"Right—right, you are not. But—"

"—fucking watch your mouth, Mingi" Yunho grunts, disrupting San's sleek words. "Agreed, you and Angel don't get along, though that doesn't mean you'd talk about her in such a vile manner."

"Weren't you talking shit bout Lani before I brought her into this?" Mingi's words reverberate densely in the air, percolating within the dead space, "so it's okay for you to run your mouth but I can't? And the validity of your opinions and judgments is only biased towards me, isn't it? I can't talk about Angel to you because you like—"

"—It doesn't matter. And you're wrong, so wrong. If you're going with that theory, shouldn't I question your affection for Lani too? I'm sure I'm justifying myself well." you could hear Yunho scoff, the disbelief clearly evident. "I don't know what it is that makes my gut twist this way, but I do not trust Lani one bit. Every time I hear about her from you, or from anyone else for that matter, my stomach does a wretched flip, and I don't feel good in my bones. Not at all." There's a pause between his words, as if he was measuring the degree of anguish his speech could cause to Mingi...

In a complete distraught segment of your mind, you were focused on the way San's arm was slotted between your tits and his palm was profusely ghosting its touch along your cunt through the skirt. This might be an off putting notion to many, but the slightly raised voices of Yunho and Mingi were turning you on; had you always have had such kink? Or did it come alive after listening to Yunho defend you with his coarse and rugged vocals? Probably yeah.

You heave out a hot breath, fanning it against San's shoulder when you lean in, almost throwing yourself onto his side. San is taken back, surprised to find you riled over the insistent bickering between the two best friends. Still, as his cock strains in his sweatpants a little tighter, he goes along with it. The nifty touches his fingers cascade through the hem of your skirt and trace under. His fingertips prod against your drenched folds, the flimsy material of panties clinging too close to your skin; he rubs his finger pads along the slit, pressing them harder with each rub.

"San," you mewl, desperate for him to yank out the balls snug in your cunt. "Please, please, please. Take them out."

San breathes in sharp, succumbing to your whines and desperation; but he knows better than to act on his commiseration. "Angel..."

He spells out your name in a delicate haze, almost rupturing every syllable with a yearning of his own. You look up at him, tears swelling in the corners and lower lip jutting out. It could be possible that you were really close to crying. Only if Yeosang was there to see it, after all he finds it pleasurable and delightful when he sees a pretty woman cry. Regardless of your sentiments having affixed on Yeosang, you couldn't resist whining under your breath again, teary eyes glimmering at the man in front of you.

"Please—"

Crash!

The twinkling noise of glass shattering fills up the space between you and San. Perhaps you were on edge when you flinched away from San and grappled holding onto him. To your knowledge, the latter had been taken off guard as well, it was clearly etched on his face and raised eyebrows. Before the two of you could speak up, a door swings open and a high pitched voice comes booming out.

"What's happening...." Wooyoung's eyes go wide for a mere second as his attention rakes over you two and his words die in his throat, "downstairs? If you two are here...who's downstairs?" he whispers, stepping out from behind the door and into the hallway. 

You take a minute to notice him; wet hair (almost), and a silk robe around his body. He must've taken a shower. You thought. With gradual steps ahead, he comes to stand in front of you, arms folded over his chest. The robe slips from his shoulder, only enough to give you a glimpse of his chest and the left pec; besides, a swirl of black peeks from underneath. A tattoo? Perhaps.

"Mingi and Yunho," San spells out in his hushed voice, "they're—arguing. A feud. Or whatever. Lani and Angel are involved."

"Oh, I get it." Wooyoung nods in acknowledgment, focus shifting on you, "are you two eavesdropping on them? Cause if my memory serves me right, weren't you two in the living room as well?"

You clear your throat, scuttling away from San by a step, "your memory is sharp. We had to get out of there before the place blew up. That is all."

"That is all?" his lips curve into a smirk, gaze following a straight line to San's pants, "it seems to me, by me I mean by an outside perspective, that you two had your minds set on fucking each other in this very hallway."

"No—"

Your heart drops into your gut; not because Wooyoung had spoken your mind but because you could hear ascending footsteps speeding up the stairs. All of three of you split in a fraction of second, scurrying into your respective rooms. Wooyoung and San were in theirs and you were in yours, back pressed up against the door the moment you closed it behind you. The same heavy and lurking footsteps follow, paddling further down the hallway. You held your breath till you heard a door close thud. It was Mingi. Doesn't require a lot of thought to know who it was. And guessing from Mingi's deliberate storm off, you are sure Yunho would follow him to his room.

That's what you thought.

When you take a minute to compose yourself and step away from the door, you hear the doorknob rattle ever so gently before the door flings open inside and in marches Yunho. Your head spins in its place, wondering how you were pushed up against the door while being entangled in his arms. Time doesn't know its bounds; trapped by his body, you're pushed back into the hard door, and his arms are around your waist, his lips on yours.

How did it happen? Everything's a blur.

The kiss isn't gentle or passionate as it should be, it is rather aggressive and impatient; this isn't how you know Yunho kisses, he's typically slow and likes it sloppy. His kisses give you enough time to adjust to his roughness and warmth. You couldn't say it for this one. Not when he had already shoved his tongue down your throat. Easing yourself against the door, you slant your body along his and grab onto his shoulders to support yourself. He already has his tight grasp on your waist to keep you steady to his ministrations; how sternly he prodded his tongue beyond yours and suffocated you with it.

You want to shove him off. But at the same time, you want to pull him closer to you. You want to feel every inch of his body against yours. Yunho grunts, the mellowed out vibrations strumming through your mouth and heading straight to your pussy; as if the metal orbs weren't enough to stimulate your release. Your arousal drips through your panties, drenching them fully. Hearing little crinkles of his beaded bracelets and necklace, you're left to take a breath of fresh air when he pulls back, his tongue slithers out of your mouth, spit coating every bit of his lips and yours too. Translucent strings of saliva connect your lips to his, falling out in perfect curves till he's leaning back in to abuse your mouth. It took one snap in the dense air between you, for his eyes to lose their light before he began sucking your lips. His tongue is back in your mouth and you don't hesitate, you let him in instead, letting him use his tongue to rile you up.

The warmth of his hands cups your face, chilling up every bone in your body when he bucks his hips into yours; there it was, the warning ache in your lower belly. You were close. So close. The stimulation was overbearing at this point. First, Yeosang's sadistic little sex toy bothered you, then it was San who couldn't ease out his temptation to rub you out, and now it's Yunho, eventually grinding his hips into yours. You have your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hoping he'd let go of you. He doesn't. His tongue drags across every corner in your mouth, over and under your teeth, before plunging deep in your throat; your moans and whimpers are muffled, purposely by him. You were voicing out your protests, but there was no use, was there?

Shushed by his lips on yours, a meagre second breaks apart the littlest serenity in your body; weak and feeble, the astonishment of being weightless catches up with you. Your back slams against the wall where the futon is situated and he is all over you, pushing you into it, trapping you under him. His hands sear their touch on your waist, keeping you confined in one place as he continues to do what he had been doing. The ache dissipates almost immediately due to Yunho's warmth enclosing your face and body, rapturing your senses beyond your perception of pain. Your hands slide up his shoulders, fingertips tickling the sides of his neck, as soft as they could, before tangling them in his seemingly frail faded blue locks. Earning a grunt, reviving from the back of his throat, you moan and he pulls you into his body. The push and pull was inexplicably agonising; you were all into the roughness Yunho had to offer, but wasn't this too much?

And perhaps, your desperation to feel every ounce of pleasure slashed out your rationality, but you were definitely aware of Yunho's aggressiveness slipping up every limit your body could endure. Even if it was only kissing, and toying with your body as if you were a mere puppet on strings for him, you had your spine bracing with perturbation.

You're out of breath, yet choose to make no effort to push him off you. His lips are devouring yours, as if he were made to starve for the entire day; though, all the noises of your mind are silenced by his tongue, rubbing in the farthest corner of your mouth, almost touching your hanging uvula. It triggers your gag reflex, and when he find you twitching because of it, he pulls his tongue back to yours, toying with it to satisfy himself. You were struggling beneath him, preventing yourself from crying because your desires were getting pent up in your chest. It'd be one thing to get teased, but it's another when you're overly stimulated by him and the sex toy Yeosang chose to keep in you. His breath tangles with yours when he breaks off the hungry kiss and wrings his tongue of your mouth; he seemed absolutely ethereal, a little maniacal with the red in his eyes, but besides that, he appeared too fuckable to you. Red and plump lips, a sheer coat of spit covering them and chin, and the drool which dribbled down. You were tempted to act on your inhibitions, wanting to touch him in ways you had only imagined before.

"Oh fuck," he grumbles under his breath, watching your pant and have your chest collide into his. "Fuck, princess..." the probable incoherence is due to him having his chest convulse the way you do, yet he scours his sound and smirks lightly, "I am—I am sorry in advance. But I'm not going—I'm not going easy on you."

With that, he's reeling back in to taste your lips on his. The kiss wild, manic-frantic, almost too devious for you to keep up with him. He drops his hands from your waist and slides one them under your skirt, skipping across your thighs to your drenched panties. You didn't think he'd be gentle with you, and he really wasn't; you gasp into his mouth when his fingertips nudge against your dripping cunt. The pads of his long and sleek fingers rub you off, going up and down your drenched panties. He heaves a guttural moan, rumbling deep within his chest when he finds how wet you were. He knows there had to be a catch.

"Princess, why the fuck are you so wet?" he mumbles against your lips, "my little whore of a princess likes it when I get rough, doesn't she? Prefers to be manhandled." He chuckles softly, "and a little body like hers can't tolerate my strength, can it? Hmm, such a good little slut, taking everything without protesting."

You had no sense for self; responding to him felt like a task, and nodding wasn't possible since his lips had trapped yours again, constricting any movement of your head. He wasn't partly wrong however. Ever since he barged into your room and began afflicting himself on you, your body had reacted differently—you liked being tossed around like a mere toy, you liked how rough his lips were getting every passing second, you fucking loved it when he pushed you on the futon and trapped you there. Nonetheless, you were losing your mind when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and slithered right in.

"Ah, is this why..." his words are caught in his throat you clasp down on his lower lip, teeth sinking deep into the flesh.

He had just touched the dainty chain dangling out of your cunt, the one which adhered the orbs together. Yunho's fingers curl around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it out, alongside the orbs. Your walls clench around nothing, leaving you empty. Odd. You felt discomfort creeping up your spine without having anything in your cunt to keep you bulged out, or even to stimulate your release anymore. Yunho lets a dark titter pass his lips, pulling back from the kiss and resting his forehead on yours; he brings his hand out of your skirt, holding the balls in a pinch, swaying them in front of your face.

"Fucking hell, my princess is such a naughty little whore," he states, lips structuring into a mischievous curve, "wanted to cum without having a cock inside that tight little thing of hers, did she?"

You shake your head lightly, nibbling on your lower lip; you were unable to make a sound, or utter what had been clouding your mind.

"Too speechless are we?" he breathes out.

Without thinking much, he tosses the chain of balls to the side and the sound of them rolling down breaks him out of his head. He dives back into the kiss, ferociously devouring your lips, sating his inner thirst; you go along with it, giving yourself to him completely. Yunho's aggression was only pleasant till you were stimulated by the kegel balls Yeosang had left in you. By the time his lips were back on yours, an unknown discomfort started settling deep within your gut. So far, you were bearing Yunho's bellicose attention. It was all fun and games until he shoves one finger into your puckering cunt; your hole eagerly invites his forefinger in, all the slick helping it to delve deeper inside.

You mewl, breathing hard and screwing your eyes shut. "Fuck—fuck too much, Yun..."

The feeling wasn't unpleasant, but your gut kept twisting and knotting in itself to indicate you something was off-putting. He increases his pace, exerting pressure on your clenching walls, causing a sharp ache to run down your spine. You throw your head back, hitting the wall in the process as his body pushes into you; with his head buried in the crook of your neck, he starts sucking and biting on your flesh, creating purple bruises across your skin. Tremors spread throughout your body, making you spasm as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to stable yourself. He didn't pace the thrust of his fingers steadily, regardless, he even added another one; his middle finger and forefinger plunged in and out of you, curling and brushing against your sensitive spot.

Yunho's far gone. He's too distrait to perceive your pained groans, or even your feeble attempts to push him off. The pique of arguing with his best friend was clearly evident in the way his fingers moved inside of you. You let out a gasp when his teeth sink in that one particular spot on your neck and your hands reach into his hair to nudge his head away from you.

"Yunho!" you scream, "stop."

And maybe it was for your amplified voice that he pulled himself back into his senses, snapping cruelly against the reality. Realisation settles deep within his gut, straying him off the spiteful ire and aggression he was caught in. His movements are dawdling thereafter.

"I'm so sorry..." he tries to reason with himself, his conscience breaking down his pugnacity.

Guilt plucks at his heart strings and he pushes himself off of you, eventually dragging himself away from to the edge of the futon. He sits slouched, head hanging low and his breathing ragged. You take a moment to compose yourself, conflicted on your thoughts. Do you comfort him? Do you ask him what's wrong? Do you nullify his behaviour and pretend everything was normal between you two?

Silence consumes every wrinkle of time, dragging both of you down with it, down into your unnecessary inhibitions and sentiments. Still stuck in a dilemma, you kept glancing at him, unsure and hesitant to approach him. It must've been more than an hour since you two had dwindled past the incident. Yunho sat still, rethinking, overthinking, letting everything overwhelm him. There must be a reason why he hadn't uttered anything for the past hour. Maybe his guilt wasn't letting him speak. Maybe he's self aware to realise his mistakes. You couldn't put your finger on it. Leaning back against the wall, your arms wrapped around your chest, and your eyes stuck to him like glue, you really pondered whether you should be the first one to make a sound or not. Maybe you should.

"Hey—"

"—don't," you squeak only to be interrupted by him with a growl. "Don't try to make me feel better about what I did."

You press your lips together, "I don't know what to say, to be honest."

"You don't have to say anything," his head falls further down, his shoulders rolling up, "don't worry, I'll leave."

"Stay," you mumble, crawling towards him by the edge, "please stay."

"Angel, don't let me guilt trip you into doing something you don't want to," he states, as firmly as he could, his voice deep with certain degree of crack at the end.

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his chest from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder; you peek over, wanting to catch a glimpse of the sullen man. "You're not guilt tripping me into comforting you."

Yunho sighs, tracing his hands onto yours and given them a light squeeze. "You heard everything, didn't you?"

You nod, "I did."

His eyes lurk onto yours, lower lip puckering out. "We're not—I can't justify myself. Or even that argument."

"You really don't have to." You reply, "I'm not asking for a reason." Biting your tongue, you sigh, "you should confide in me, Yunho. Get it out of your head. I'm here to listen."

A quiet minute drags on, forcing you to take the matters in your hand. You slip away from behind him, carefully pulling yourself into his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist. Softly tugging his chin up with your dainty fingers, you make him face you, your other hand on his shoulder. There's meagre light in his eyes, shrouded by dense dark of his brown specks. You're not sure what he hides beneath it, what he was thinking, what he had been thinking. His lips push out to a pout, hands instinctively wrapping on either side of your waist.

"Angel, you don't have to do this." His voice is delicate and bleak as he groans.

"I feel like I have to," you bring both of your hands to cup his cheeks, staring deep into his eyes to decipher the lost meaning in them. "It's not an obligation, I don't feel obligated to. Though, I believe we should talk about it rather than sweeping it under the rug."

Yunho heaves out a heavy breath, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin and lips trembling to speak. "Fine," he mutters, clearing his throat to speak much firmer than before, "I lost control. Couldn't tame the frustration in my head and it all had to come out on you instead."

You hear the guilt in his tone, watch it flash across his face when he looks away from you. He continues, "we have an arrangement, I'm aware. Should it compel you to do something you're not comfortable with? No. You don't have to. You could've shoved me off the moment I pinned you against that door. You should've hit me, punched me, slapped me even..." he trails off, catching up on the murmurs of your sniffle, "...hey, I'm not trying to blame it on you. I'm trying to tell you what you could've done instead of going along with me."

You let his words sink in; the farthest corner of your mind replayed the moment where you could've pushed him off of you, but you didn't. Why didn't you? Did a sick part of you enjoy it a little too much to act on it? Had you pushed him off, would he have not felt as guilty as he is now? Were you blaming yourself? You sure were. Was there any point in it? Nope. Not at all.

"Talk to me," he coaxes you with a soft voice, hands tugging on your waist, "it scares me how quiet you are. Please, say something."

You hadn't realised how long were you quiet for, but the desperation in his eyes told you were biting your tongue for quite a while. You shake your head, and let your hands drop to his shoulders, clinging onto him.

"Yunho," you speak up, yet your voice barely reaches him, "I don't..."

"What is it, hmm?" he hums, resting his forehead on yours.

"I think I know why you were so angry," you mumble, sliding your hands on his chest, "but hearing you and Mingi argue over me, kind of turned me on."

You blurted out the one thing you never wanted to. Now, you were terrified to know how he'd react to the piece of information you just passed on. Maybe he'd be disgusted? He'd think you are a freak who...or maybe he'll just want to stop seeing you. Okay, we should put an end to your overthinking state of mind at the moment.

"What?" he chuckles, "oh princess. You did not just say that."

"It's the truth," you retort, "when you were growling at Mingi, trying to defend me, that was hot."

"Really?" he teases you, his hands falling down to your ass, caressing it in his big palms. "And here I was silly to think you wouldn't like that part of me. Tell me princess, do you like it when I get angry?"

Your cheeks turn red at the malicious tone he was using, stressing his words with a seductive voice.

"Yeah, I do." Senses clouded by lust, you give into your inhibitions, wanting nothing more than to be railed by him in the exact moment. Though, this time, a tinge of rationality clutches your dubious desires and makes you squeak, "but, why were you so mad for? What did Mingi do?"

Yunho snickers, sighing out adamantly, "don't act coy, princess. You heard him, didn't you? He called you a whore."

"So?" he cocks his brow at you, "would I let his judgement ruin my mood? Not really. Perhaps, not at all."

Yunho sighs yet again, "are you implying I overreacted to his comment?"

"I'm sure he only wanted to get a reaction out of you," you shrug, tightening your arms around his shoulders and pushing yourself into his chest, "honestly, you two were being hotheads for nothing."

"You don't know that!" Yunho retaliates with a half-hearted whine, his eyes meet yours and he sighs, "look, Mingi's girlfriend and I don't get along. Never have, in fact. And I don't see any brighter lights for the future too."

You ponder on his words and hum, "well, your resentment has to start somewhere, right? You can't just up and hate someone without a reason."

"I think I have a pretty damn good reason to not like her," he murmurs, squeezing your asscheeks, "well, it started when Mingi pitched the idea of going on a double date. We had just started dating these girls from our school and I thought why not?" he licks his lower lip, "I met Lani for the first time then, she was bearable at the least, for the time being. Then as days passed, certain qualities about her began to strike me as insufferable."

"Insufferable?" you repeat, emphasising on your astonishment.

"In a way, yes." He breathes out, seemingly frustrated at the thought, "she only acts affectionate towards Mingi when she needs his help or money. Other times she's surly and distant from him. Wouldn't that annoy anyone?" sighing, he channels his ire out through a breath and peeks up at you, his eyes darker than before, "it annoys me. A relationship is a two way street. You can't expect—well never mind."

You press your lips together and suppress your voice, not understanding what to speak of in this situation. You obviously did not want to add fuel to the already burning and scorching flames; it really does seem that Yunho despises his friend's girlfriend more than anyone else.

"Yes, relationship is a two way street," you agree, gently cupping his face with your hands. The soft touch, he leans in to, causes for your heart to skip a beat. "I'm not saying it just for the sake, but come to think about it. Mingi is a grown up, he surely knows what's going on with him and his girlfriend. Maybe he chooses to not believe it because it's better that way. We all tend to blur out the truth when the lie seems sweet enough to be true."

"But do you not think..." Yunho trails off, his gaze lowering to your thighs wrapped around his waist. "You know, I'm not so fond of this position; I may be fixated on thinking about Mingi's situation but you're not helping with all this. You're really not a good distraction."

You click your tongue, "actually, I'm a very reliable distraction."

"Oh please," he subtly rolls his eyes, a smile stretching his lips. "Prove it."

"Right now?" you ask him wide eyed. "I thought we were setting out for a heart-to-heart talk about your problems with your boyfriend."

Yunho scoffs, "he's one of the major reasons why I need a distraction." He peers up at you, lips lolling out to a pout and his eyes glossing over show an innocent ruse. Though, after a long second, he shrugs and dismisses it off. "But it's fine if you don't want to. Your consent matters."

Not uttering a single word, you lean in and press your lips against his, your arms tightening themselves around his neck. You push yourself further into him, getting the much needed friction of your chest with his; an insatiable desire erupts from the pit of your stomach, gradually rising up until your chest. In the past, the whole of three moments you've had with Yunho, can't be compared to this one. The more your lips stayed on his, the more ravenous your desires were turning out to be. If there was any doubt in your mind, you'd have acted on it. You hadn't yet. Given the few prior instances where you were actually terrified of his demeanour.

Rolling your hips into his, you could feel his cock starting to stiffen up against your stomach as you continue to grind on him. If there's anything you know better, it's riling Yunho up; you don't even have to do much, just turn off your rationality and let your lecherous desires consume you. It doesn't come to you as a surprise, but when you do, it's like staring into a mirror. You're both very alike when it comes to expressing your sexual preferences; maybe a little too similar.

The kiss continues to dwell on both of you, rapturing your senses to the havoc it was creating in your chest and stomach. You could almost feel your guts knotting themselves through, and your stomach grumbling with an unquenchable want. Regardless of how addicted you are to his lips, and likewise, you pull back when your thoughts are rumpled away into forcing you to breathe. Though, he doesn't see it as a stop sign; Yunho buries his head in the crook of your neck and starts nibbling on your sweet spot, just right below your ear. He knows it too well now, you can't help yourself when he toys with that spot—he's too accustomed to your needs and body.

"Fuck," you whimper, pushing out the air from your lungs. "Please—please, I need you. Really—really bad."

Closing your eyes shut, and letting your lips tremble, it was one of the best things Yunho had ever experienced; your face scrunched in an uncontrolled desperation while he carried on with teasing you. His teeth sink deep into your flesh, his tongue swiping and sucking, creating those noises which sound awfully loud and blissful.

"Patience princess," he mumbles against your neck, a smirk twisting on his lips. "I don't want to hurt you like the last time."

The recollection of "that" particular moment makes your stomach flip inside out. Your first time with Yunho, as much as it was pleasant and 'fucking amazing' it was also painful. Meagrely painful. Even though there was involvement of proper aftercare, you were still bleeding for a few days after. Ever since, Yunho had been careful with you, not initiating anything with you until you said otherwise; when you had recovered though, Jongho had taken out and that was a whole thing you didn't want to reminisce about now.

"You won't, I can take you..." you whisper, tracing your fingers on his back while suddenly clutching on his leather jacket when his teeth sink further into your neck. "Hmmm, fuck..." you let out a soft moan, screwing your eyes close even tighter than before.

"There's no way you can take me without bleeding again," Yunho says, "that night, I was way over in my head and I couldn't think straight—and blame it on Seonghwa for making me jealous." He pulls back, slightly smirking with pride as he catches a faint glimpse of your skin dented with his teeth. "This time, or maybe from now on, I won't do anything unless I'm sure you can. I don't want to hurt you again."

You peer down at him through your half lidded eyes and nod your head, speaking of nothing because you know he's stubborn and won't agree to whatever you suggest.

"Fine," you breathe out, "whatever you want."

"Don't be disappointed, princess," he pouts, pinching your nose. "This will be equally...fun."

"Huh, what do you mean?" you gawp, as he starts looking around till his eyes narrow down on the full body mirror next to your futon.

"It's the same mirror, isn't it?" he asks, lips twisting to a devious smirk and it continues growing in his cheek. "I should thank this mirror, honestly. Everything started with it, after all."

You're beyond flustered as the memories come back rushing in; it was never on your list to send a very risqué photo to the stranger you had just made that day, but something made you and now here you were. Did you ever find yourself thinking you'd be living with eight men, with seven of them being so interested in you—sexually? You'd rather be caught dead than caught wondering about these things; this is what your past attitude would've made you feel.

Though in current times, it's all you can think about. Think about these men ruining you to their desires, to their own needs—this can't be healthy, but it sure has taken up every fraction of your mind. And while you're at it, there's no harm in indulging.

"Come here." Yunho shifts about on the futon in a way to face the mirror with you on his lap, your back to his chest. "I've had to do this with some of the women I had entertained. It's a standard practice. And as much as I like a tight little cunt, it is really uneasy to fuck without proper preparation first."

Listening to him, your stomach does that little flip again; you're brought to your senses when his hands slide down your waist, his fingertips grazing along your exposed skin under your skirt till your ankles. He wraps his hands around them and rubs his thumbs against the bone to keep you composed before pulling them up on his lap. The position wasn't awkward, you were resting on his chest with your legs propped on his thighs.

"Look at you," he grumbles, diving his head back into the crook of your neck and leaving gentle flutters of his lips. "So beautiful..."

You're about to close your eyes when you glance at the mirror and find yourself staring at your reflection; you were indeed beautiful—propped steady on his lap, with legs spread as he continues to abuse your neck. Soft caresses send shivers down your spine, making your body shudder when his hands slide on your knees and push your legs further apart, exposing your wet panties.

"Yes, just like that..." he grumbles again, keeping his head buried in your neck. His warm breath tickles you, causing you to fall deep within the darkness of your body and mind. "What, cat got your tongue?"

You shake your head lightly, "no, I'm trying to figure out what all this is about."

"Oh princess," he lets out a silly chuckle, "you'll see."

"Hmmm, okay," you suck in a deep breath, closing your eyes when you feel his teeth biting and nipping your skin again.

He doesn't make a sound and rather brings one of his hands up to your mouth; his fingers nudge against your lower lip and you let them part, opening your eyes to his ministrations. His forefinger and middle finger rest heavy on your lip till you slack your jaw and open your mouth wide for him; without any hesitation, he thrusts his fingers inside your mouth. Those long and sleek fingers reach to the back of your throat, even without much effort or having to slide them down. You start gaging on them the moment his fingertips hit your uvula, but holding your ground, you let him do as he pleases—coating his fingers in your spit. Thrusting his fingers inside your mouth, he gets a good amount before pulling them out and glancing over at them. They glisten under the dim lights of the room, your spit dribbles down from the top to the knuckles; making you wonder how deep he was in your mouth and how deep his fingers had managed to thrust into your throat. You let out a whimper and throw your head back, eyes still on the mirror as you catch him smirking at you. Your chest heaves erratically to what he had done, trying to calm yourself down.

"Come on, you're over dramatic." He whispers as he uses his other hand to pulls your panties out of the way. In a swift motion, he slides them off your legs and keeps them next to him on the futon. "Fuck princess, look at you, dripping already."

The same hand starts tracing up your thigh and eventually rests on your mound; two of his fingers rest perfectly against your folds and he spreads them apart, peering down at your exposed self and your pretty little clit. You breathe heavily, keeping your hands to the side and clutching the sheets tightly in them.

A moan breaks out of your chest, making you cry, "too sensitive—hmmm, fuck Yun—hmmm." You bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up, because nothing coherent would make out after this point.

Without giving you a prior warning, he had already stuffed two of his spit-covered fingers into your cunt; plumbing them deep, he curls them inside, making them brush against your fleshy walls. The squelching sounds grow loud as he thrusts them in and out at a manageable pace. You watch with your lip caught between your teeth, the reflection in the mirror showing how your cunt swallowed his fingers; it was a sight for your eyes, and also for Yunho's.

"Keep watching, princess. Dare if you let your eyes stray..." he warns you with a low grunt, his fingers increasing their pace.

That was it. The moment you fixated your eyes on the mirror, you found him staring back at you, the sleazy smile on his face helping you perceive his intentions more closely and clearly. In the following second, he starts spreading his fingers inside you, scissoring them against your walls and spreading you further apart; the stretch was blissful, so very pleasing for your body to react in this way. He was getting there; he sure was getting there.

Heat rising from your stomach, you start heaving, your chest starts heaving while your mouth parts open and stays like that; there's a scream trapped in the back of your throat, waiting to erupt from your chest with all its might as his fingers now move inside you at an alarming pace. You're so close, so close to having that knot in your stomach come undone. And as you were, his fingers slow down.

"Hmmm, you're not going to cum until I say so," he mumbles in a coarse voice, taking his fingers out of your soaking wet cunt; instead, he grabs your hands and gently rubs the back. "Keep your hands here, hmm? Give me a squeeze when it hurts."

And he's back to thrusting his two fingers inside you; but now your hands were wrapped around his wrists, tightly to give him the signal when it gets too much for you. He starts slow, only fucking the tips of his fingers in and out. This is way worse than before, the slow and mellowed out thrusts were pushing you to your edge, making your knees go weak as the knot reties itself in your stomach. The warmth starts rising again, making you sweat profusely while you have your head resting on his shoulder.

Yunho isn't staring at you anymore, his attention is focused down, on his fingers and your stretched out folds. Your mind is too lost in the conspicuous sight that you almost don't notice him spit out a wad of his saliva on his other hand. Again, he coats his two fingers in his spit, making sure they are nicely covered before tracing them lightly down to your cunt. A few little strokes of the tips against your folds, while his other fingers slow down thrusting in you, and you're losing it all over again. You had no idea what to anticipate anymore; two fingers were already in while other two toyed and pushed against a side of your folds.

"Ahhh, holy fuck..." you curse out loudly when he starts prodding his other two fingers against your cunt, pushing the tips in very gently as to not hurt you. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck....Yunho..." you mewl out with such pure passion, tightening your hands around his wrist while your nails dig into his skin, leaving behind crescent marks. "You're—ugh—too much..."

Again, without warning, he plunges his other fingers inside as well, not even giving you any time to adjust or even comprehend it properly. His fingers stretch you out so nicely, pulling apart at your walls and squelching inside with your flesh.

You're crying, well, on the verge of crying; you already have a few tears streaming down your cheeks. The way you were being stretched and held down by his weight, was too much to contain in your little head—and the knot becomes too intense in the pit of your stomach. You were indeed close, every muscle in your body twitches to let go of the tightness and you were about to when you're, out of nowhere, made feel empty and loose again. Sensing you clench around his fingers; Yunho had stopped doing whatever he was and had his fervent eyes on you through the reflection in the mirror.

"What did I tell you, princess?" his voice comes out mocking, almost; his breath hitches lightly as he continues, "you're not cumming unless I say so."

If it weren't for you holding onto his hands while his kept you occupied, you would've slipped right off his lap and landed ass first on the floor; you were no longer in the sane state of mind, it was a mush from the crippling pleasure and pain his fingers offered. You've been denied the leisure of your release twice now, and you knew it wasn't going to be the only time you would. This affliction only builds up to your restlessness, the slow paced ticking seconds only mocking you to your pique. To say, Yunho worked his fingers in you, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he had nothing better to do.

Would you blame him though? He's trying his hardest not to bust his load at the given moment; he knows he's been driven past the line of his tameable threshold, and what beholds for him beyond it is something he'd rather keep it to himself. Though, unlike the times before, this one seems like a torture to him. Gone were the remnants of his altercation with Mingi, disintegrated almost. Rather, you had replaced them quite adeptly with your murmuring moans and cries. Yunho has a part of his mind fixed on his fingers, while the other domesticated the wild inside of him. The softness he holds for you, is another thing compelling him to be so gentle and lenient with you. In his own way, he too was proven weak against his dilemmas.

Noticing the pace of his fingers slack, you lean back on his shoulder and stare up at him, your eyes tearful and your cheeks tear stained. You read the strained creases between his eyebrows, his shallow breathes brushing with your cheek so lightly, and his lips trembling; his flushed cheeks, reddened ears, and his heaving chest were a sign—he was restraining himself as well. In the heat of the moment, your eyes meet and his heart skips. There's something serene and indistinct in those brown flakes, something so indecipherable. Time wrinkles to a beat of your hearts, both of you leaning in to press your lips against each other. The kiss starts slow, peaceful, almost with a feathery brush of your lips. It's when you both know you could never get enough of each other, it's when you push yourself further into him and taste him fully, from your heart.

The decadent taste of his lips is a magical touch in itself; you're left wanting more, wanting to get everything of him. He's on the same page, pushing his tongue in, thrusting it deep in while he suckles on your mouth. A soft kiss turning to a passionate session of make-out, this wasn't anything new to the either of you. Maybe, the jitteriness of what came before it, was. What exactly was it that made the both of you lean in at the same time? A miscommunication between your eyes, or a direct connection of your hearts? Those questions would remain unanswered for a while.

"Yunho, please..." you whimper against his lips, tipping your head back, pleading with your eyes. "I'm close..."

"Me too, princess." He mutters, letting his fingers slip out of you. His long sleek fingers are coated in a weird concoction of your wetness and his spit. "Fuck..."

"Let's help each other out," you enunciate between your breaths, shifting in his lap to face him while straddling him and pushing him down on the futon by his chest.

"You'll hurt yourself, princess," he mutters again, with concern this time.

You shake your head and press your index finger against his lips. "I'll be fine."

Without giving a second thought, you take your top off, leaving your upper half bare. Yunho's hands rest on the sides of your waist, stabling you while you carried on with your plan; fumbling with the button on his pants, you manage to undo them and then unzip them. From the past hour, you had his cock hard against your ass. You tug his pants down, enough to have his cock out; he was straining in his briefs, twitching lightly when you started stroking him through them.

"My my, what does my princess have in her mind?" he grins up at you, resounding his words with a chuckle.

"Shut up," you heave out in irritation, too riled up by him and too sensitive.

Using your free hand, you lift your skirt up, and keep it pinned against your waist; slowly, you lower yourself on his cock, letting it grind into your slit. You place both of your hands on his chest, giving yourself the leverage to continue the movements of your hips.

"Fuck, princess," Yunho screws his eyes shut, his hands tightening on your waist. His breathing, once again, becomes shallow and heavy, with your hips rolling onto his, with your cunt sliding profusely and with was on his cock.

The harshness of your sensitivity makes you start out slow, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, you decide to pick it up by a notch. Creases on his forehead, his squinted eyes closed shut, and his lips parting with every moan he lets out; it was all a sight full of his sensuality. That was alone enough to push you to your release, the knot coming back in the pit of your stomach immediately. It was when he mumbles out an incoherent curse, followed by a loud moan, that you lose it all and increase the pace of your movements.

Yunho cracks one of his eye open, watching you intently; you were in the same boat as him, eyes closed shut, breathing hard, and your body shuddering to every touch. He lets his lips sculpt into a small smirk, his eyes fully open and never leaving your figure. He starts to guide you along his cock by pushing and pulling on your waist, helping you; eventually, he bucks his hips up, the tip of his cock thrusting in you. A moan ruptures through your throat and chest, your eyes fluttering open to look down at him with tears welling up in the corners.

"Good god, princess, I'm really close." he whispers, "so close—I can't hold it in anymore."

He throws his head back in the mattress, his eyes closing again; he regulates his breathing through his mouth, his hands continuing to push and pull your waist. His cock was so perfectly aligned with your slit, your folds wrapping around the bulging and veiny shaft and the tip rubbing with your clit every time you rocked your hips. It was enough to take him to paradise, it was enough to get him there; his high comes to him like a big wave crashing down against a giant boulder. His chest heaves up hard, the heat in his stomach rising and pushing through. The sensitivity he was drowning under, pushes him to his edge, making his cock twitch deliriously against your slit and your folds, and his tip ramming into your clit; in few seeming minutes, he comes undone, filling up your slit with his cum. Most of it ends up on his lower abdomen and his chest.

"Fuck, princess," he lets out a guttural moan, swallowing thickly and raising his head back to look at you and then inspecting the cum on his clothes.

You peek down, biting intensely on your lower lip, catching the sight of the white strings painting his shirt; surging in a gentle breath, you continue rolling your hips, continue to keep the pace steady till you're close to your release. This would've been less painful if you weren't so sensitive from before, from your time with Yeosang, to here, to Yunho fingering your tightness out, as if his life depended on it.

"Come on, princess," he praises you, "you can do it. I know how much you love making a mess on my cock."

Moaning, whimpering, shuddering, and crying, you're finally reaching there, with his words kept on a replay in your head. The knot ties in with the hit in your stomach—your legs were almost on the verge of giving out, and so were you. Darkness consumes you, dazed in the thoughts of you pushing your limit and wanting to be tipped off your edge. In the hollowed silence, where only your breaths were echoing, you catch up on the dainty vibrations of his words.

"Make a mess, baby."

And they were enough for you to reach your high; it comes crashing down on you, the sensation of his still-stiff cock and the wetness of your cunt, coming together and pushing your beyond your limit. That was it, the knot unfurls in your stomach and you let go of what had been holding it together; your body shudders and twitches uncontrollably, your lips parting and staying parted as you release a series of curses.

"Fuck, oh god—hmm, Yunho," you mewl his name in a pained voice, your face strained and pulled together with the tension easing slowing in your stomach and your gut.

Yunho snickers, his sound lighthearted and teasing, "oh my, my princess really did make a big mess on my cock."

You didn't have the strength to retort or reply to him, your body going limp and collapsing down on his chest. The ickiness of both of your releases starts settling in afterwards, regardless, for the time being, you were seeking comfort from him, with his arms wrapped tightly around you. His warmth is a meagre thought of ecstasy, a sacred feeling you never had experienced before. Resting yourself with him, with his fingers running through your hair and his soft voice humming a song to you, it was your paradise.

The two of you decide to stay in bed for the rest of the evening and the night. Yunho suggested watching a movie while you were both cleaning yourself and taking a well needed shower, but you turned the idea down and asked him if he was okay with just cuddling and talking. And he was. He could never go against your words; there was no way he'd actually disagree to anything you say. But of course, he'd there to correct you with his own opinions and thoughts if he deems you to be wrong.

So there you were, delighting yourself in the post aftercare with Yunho, cuddling and talking to each other, narrating stories from your past. He kept one arm slung around your waist from under you, while his other was draped around your chest with his fingers tracing patterns on your exposed shoulder. A soft blanket covered you both; he got you one of his oversized hoodies to wear while he only slipped on his shorts. 

"It's silly, I know." Yunho's chuckle reverberates in your ear, his smile widening. "But trust me, he's never confessed. He always has this elaborated ideas about confessing, but he never goes through with them."

"And you just toy with him?" you snicker, "if you know he likes you, then why not just end it? I'm pretty sure he'd be out of his misery."

"Nah," he presses his lips on the top of your head, "I'm too used to this game of cat and mouse. I wouldn't mind pulling his strings a little. Besides, he can be a real jerk at times."

"Like today?"

"There have been more difficult times." He sighs, "hey, let's not talk about it anymore."

You nod your head, deciding with it; Yunho had been telling you about his and Mingi's relationship—how those two became friends, how they got along, how they both liked each other in ways more than friends. Neither of them said anything about it though, and that really confused you. But it wasn't your place to say anything.

"So, how are you feeling now?" he asks you, bursting your bubble of thought

"Much better," you mutter, "I feel so sleepy."

"Of course you do," he chuckles. "Sure that little body can handle only so much from us, and considering you were with Seonghwa and Yeosang in the morning, that's—that's completely understandable."

"Shut up," you whine, teasing him. "Did you forget to include yourself? You were a jerk."

"Thank you so much for reminding me again," he clicks his tongue and slurs his words. "Come on, I said I'll make it up to you, I promise." You watch him pout.

"You better."

"Yes ma'am."

And the teasing and mocking continues on through the dwelling night until you find yourself sound asleep in his arms; he's no better than you of course, you had caught him snoring before you could even get yourself to drift off. Though, he looked really cute as he slept, a soft pout stayed on his lips as he did. When you were dozing off, you had many thoughts on your mind, but only one of them stood out. Did you actually like him? So, San was right. You really did dream of having a proper relationship with him.

Oh boy, this little arrangement of yours might leave you heartbroken.

M.list | Previous | Next

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii) Jaune and Emerald are married (Topaz) Jaune and Emerald have a child (Jasmine Esmeralda Arc) Jaune and Emerald are on the run from Salem & Ozpin

Scene : A cheap motel in Argus

==> @cheeseeater2 - What if Nora and Ren find Jaune and Emerald with the kid and let them go if only for the child to be safe. Jaune says even if they hate him forever he loves them and hopes they can be happy one day.

Of all the things Ren and Nora expected after hearing that Jaune had left with Pyrrha during the fall, and then discovering that he and Emerald were on the run from Salem's agents. Finding himself held at gun-point by the man he used to consider a brother, was not one of them.

It had been a stroke of luck, finding out Jaune and Emerald were expecting. It was through idle chit-chat with the other tenants of the apartment building Jaune and Emerald had been living in for the last almost year... before vanishing days before a fire gutted the building. So as they continued their counter operations against Salem's machinations, they kept checking local medical centers and hospitals.

At a stop over in Argus, about a year after the last lead that went cold at the apartment complex. Nora had decided on a whim to check the local hospital, and much to her utter shock she caught site of Emerald leaving with a bundle cradled in her arms. So cautiously she followed the obviously new mother, tracing her back to a rather shabby motel.

A scroll call and Ren was beside her with in twenty minutes. A hint of intimidation and they had the room number. The flimsy wooden door was no obstacle for Nora. She was through it at the first hit of her shoulder. Ren was inside a fraction of a second after Nora burst through the door. The screaming of a startled child, and the yells of a young women, filled the room. But what Ren really focused on was the cold barrel of a rather nasty pistol being pressed against the center of his chest.

"You don't want to do this Jaune." Ren calmly informed his former team leader. "This will just make things worse."

"You right Ren, I don't want to do this, but to protect my wife and my daughter... I will." Jaune replied, his voice measured, and forced like he was fighting the potential of his own emotions surfacing. "Back away Nora."

"Jaune, why?" Nora asked as she stepped back away from the door she had just smashed in.

"I made a mistake." Jaune replied. "Both Em and I did."

"And what do you call this?" Ren asked nodding towards the pistol pressed against his chest.

"Protecting our second chance." Jaune replied. "Em, are you and her okay?"

"We are, she's just a little scared." Emerald answered, as she gently rocked the bundle in her arms. "Shush that's okay sweetie. It's okay, daddy will keep the bad people away from us."

"We're not... bad people." Nora countered.

"Really?" Emerald asked. "You've been trying to find us for years. Chasing us from place to place. Making us uproot, time and time again just so we can have a life away from all the bullshit."

"But..."

"We made mistakes. We were lied to. Led on." Emerald cut Nora off. "We figured it out too late to stop them, so we left."

"And have Ozpin's and Salem's minions dogging us all over Remnant." Jaune added. "We're out. We want to be left in peace. We know nothing, nor do we want to know anything. We're out."

"Jaune, you know..."

"Who says it can't be that way? Ozpin? Salem?" Jaune countered. "Fuck them and their little war!"

"Jaune, language!' Emerald hissed as she continued to placate the fussy infant.

"I'm sorry, but the point remains. We're out. We just want to make a life, for us and our daughter. A quiet life." Jaune expanded upon his original statement. "Both of you away from the door."

"Jaune, this isn't the right way. Come back with us? Ozpin can..."

"Ozpin is a failure." Jaune rebutted. "If he had any brains or sense he would have at least had an idea that Salem was trying something after the breach."

"None of us..."

"No, we didn't." Jaune agreed, "But we we're students, why would we have? The ones in power should have been protecting us. Like I will Em and Jas."

"Jas?" Nora asked as she moved as far from the door, as she could without getting any closer to Emerald or the infant. "Is that her name? Jas?"

"Jasmine Esmeralda Arc." Emerald informed the group. "She's named after our mothers."

Jasmine started to fuss more.

"Is she..."

"She's hungry." Emerald answered as she adjusted how she was holding Jasmine while lifting the left side of her shirt to feed her bundle of joy.

"I'm sorry it came to this." Jaune commented as he moved himself to be standing between Emerald and the now sitting Nora and Ren, his pistol still trained on Ren. "I never wanted to hurt you, either of you. You mean too much to me, but..."

"Jasmine and Emerald mean more." Nora finished his statement. "I can understand that."

"Are you truly happy Jaune?" Ren asked, keeping his hands flat on his lap, in clear view. "I mean really happy?"

"I am." Jaune replied. "I... we made our mistakes, but Jas is the best of both of us, and she deserves a future."

"A future you're willing to kill to protect?" Ren asked.

"You need to understand, Ren. I don't want to, but I will. To protect Em and Jas, I will put down anyone that comes after us."

"What are you going to do now?" Nora asked, trying to lean just enough to see Emerald and her baby.

"Same as we always do when you two or Cinder and Pyrrha get too close. We'll leave, and find somewhere new."

"That's not much of a life." Ren commented. "Always on the run. Is that fair to Jasmine? To Emerald? To you?"

"If I could change it. If I could fix it, I would... but there's fat chance of that happening, isn't there."

"Can I... can I hold her?" Nora tentatively asked. "I won't do anything, I swear, I just... I just feel this need..."

"I don't..."

"It's okay Jaune." Emerald cut him off. "I trust her enough not to hurt Jas. She's not the type."

Emerald stood, up after burping Jasmine, and slowly approached, keeping out of Jaune's line of fire. She loved him, wholly, and she understood is consuming drive and need to keep her and their daughter safe. She had the same compulsion.

"Watch her head." Emerald softly instructed Nora as she lay the precious bundle of joy. Jaune and her little miracle into Nora's arms.

"She's so small." Nora whispered, a sad smile on her face. "She's so small."

"Jaune, put it away." Emerald smiled at him as she crouched next to Nora who was completely enamored with little Jasmine.

Jaune hesitated for a fraction of a moment and then reached up and pushed the pistol back up into his sleeve. Ren heard the click of the mechanism resetting.

"Ren," Nora softly spoke. "We can't keep chasing them. We need to help them."

"Nora?"

"She's so small, and innocent. She shouldn't have to suffer for Jaune and Emerald's mistakes." Nora commented her eyes never leaving the beautiful if but slightly chubby face. "This is a fresh start for them... and us."

"Us?" Ren asked.

"I hate what Pyrrha did. How she used us all. How she broke our trust... but I want to help protect this little one. I want to do that more than chasing Jaune or Emerald." Nora made a kissy face as Emerald smiled. "Everything we're doing is about the future right? Protecting it?"

"I guess." Ren responded.

"Then let's help them. Let's let this little one have the family the Grimm robbed us of..." Nora's eyes started to tear up, emotions she thought long gone washing over her.

"It's okay, Nora." Emerald comforted her one time enemy. "It's okay."

"There might be a way." Ren sighed as he spoke. "Because to be honest I'm tired of chasing you Jaune."

"If it's any consolation, we're tired of being chased by you." Jaune gave his former teammate a soft smile.

"Would you stay in Vale, if we could get you in without anyone knowing? If we could help you get settled? Would you stay?"

Jaune looked to Emerald who was still hovering over Nora, rubbing her back in gentle circles as Nora tried to get control of her emotions. Emerald gave Jaune a smile and a nod.

"I would, if we can be safe. Unmolested?"

"Only Nora and I would know. Not even Ozpin will be any the wiser."

"Tell me why?" Jaune point blank asked.

"I want my family back together, despite the mistakes we've all made." Ren replied. "You're our family Jaune, and we miss you."

"I miss you as well." Jaune responded.

"So, can you really help us? Keep us secret and safe?" Emerald asked as Nora, at Emerald's urging, transferred Jasmine back into her arms.

"We can." Ren replied.

"No," Nora spoke her voice breaking slightly. "We will."

Jaune swallowed hard, and moved forward, his arms spread accepting Nora and Ren into a hug that had been forever in the making. A familial embrace they had all missed.

[thriftyshark530]

Whumper needing to get caretaker off their trail, so they hurt whumpee as an example. Maybe caretaker is investigating whumper's crime scenes, too close to making a big score, so whumper needs to set an example. Whumper tracks caretaker from a crime scene to their home, waiting with their henchmen outside for the right moment to strike. When the time comes, caretaker and whumpee are dragged out of their own home. Two henchmen hold down a struggling caretaker, while another holds down whumpee.

"Whumpee, it's going to be ok, I promise" caretaker desperately calls out to whumpee. Whumpee nods as whumper walks between them.

"Oh, we'll just have to see about that." Whumper scoffs, kneeling in front of caretaker, hooking a finger under their chin. "You have been a naughty little shit, haven't you? Busting my operations left and right, profits going down, trying to find my hideout. No no no, we can't have anymore of that, can we?".

"Please..." Caretaker squeaks out, their lip quivering as they struggle to hold back their tears. "You don't have to do this".

Whumper begins to chuckle, releasing their hold on caretaker's chin as they stand up and begin to approach whumpee.

"You know, they all say that. You don't have to do this" whumper laughs as they motion for henchmen to release whumpee. "WHICH IS WHAT MAKES IT SO MUCH MORE FUN" whumper roars as they slam a kick into whumpee's rib cage.

"STOP" Caretaker cries out, beginning to struggle against whumpers henchmen. Whumpee starts violently coughing as they cover up their body, waiting for more blows.

Whumper begins stomping down on whumpee, breaking ribs and crushing whumpee's hands under their boot, enjoying the sight of the broken whumpee before them. Whumper's henchmen forcing caretaker to watch every blow that whumpee takes. Whumper then drops to their knees over whumpee, moving whumpee's arms, revealing whumpee's bruised face.

"Aw, look at you, already such a mess, aren't you?" Whumper whispers, raising their fist and slamming it into whumpees face, repeating over and over. Whumper ignores caretakers pleads to stop as they keep pounding into whumpee's face. Whumper only stops when their hand is covered in whumpee's blood.

"well, I got a bit too excited there" whumper exclaims before standing up, rolling the unconscious whumpee to their side to face caretaker. Caretaker gasps at the sight of whumpee, not able to hold back their tears anymore as they begin calling whumpee's name.

"So much more beautiful now, wouldn't you agree, caretaker?" Whumper says with a devilish grin as they close the gap to caretaker. Forcefully grabbing some of caretakers hair and making them look up. "This is what happens when you fuck with me" whumper growls. "You'll leave this all in the past, and never interfere with my business again, do you understand?"

Caretaker nods, desperately agreeing to whumper's terms.

"Great, so glad we have an understanding. Well, we're off, hope we get to do this again sometime, right caretaker?"

Whumper motions for henchmen to let go of caretaker. Before whumper and their men get far, caretaker is already over whumpee. Peeling their broken body off the ground, sobbing into whumpee's neck as they hold them tightly.

Bonus points if caretaker does give up the case. And after whumpee recovers, they try to convince caretaker to take down whumper. Caretaker refusing, not wanting whumpee to get hurt again, but whumpee is adamant that caretaker continues their work.

[espionn]

people are so scared of the "cishet sneaking into the community to Do Things" boogeyman but like. what kind of argument even is that. it doesn't make sense to any degree.

first of all, assuming this was a real thing that was happening, what can a couple random people posing as queer possibly do that's harmful? its not like we get government benefits for being queer. its not like we have a limited number of chairs like the person above me says. its not really like we have super secret clubhouses that you have to know the gay password to get into. if your concern is that they'll invade our spaces to hurt us, they can do that without "pretending" to be queer. if your concern is that they're just annoying and attention seeking, sorry, annoying and attention seeking people will always exist in every space. there is no reason why these people are a threat to you.

second, this just isnt a thing that happens en masse. has some random cishet person claimed they "suffered the queer struggle" once? probably. but again, that doesn't actually harm anyone, and there isnt some huge movement to invalidate queer people. if someone isnt adversely affected by heteronormative society, the reality is that they don't really want to be here either. cishets arent frothing at the mouth to sneak into queer circles. again, we dont get any huge benefits, so why would they? the only reason these spaces might be valuable is if someone is affected by our heteronormative culture and wants a safe place to explore queerness. otherwise there's just no reason to be "invading our spaces". sorry.

third, like people have already touched on, excluding people for not appearing "queer enough" is just really fucked and antithetical. it forces people to out themselves unsafely and doesn't allow space for questioning and learning. this "in or out" attitude literally helps no one. if cishet-appearing people can't interact with queer circles, then we're gonna have a lot more queer people hating themselves and not understanding whats wrong with them.

finally, the most powerful argument of all: i dont give a shit. if cishet jacob wants to hang out in gay bars and call himself queer, i genuinely dont care. i cannot express enough how little difference that makes to me. as long as he isnt harassing anyone, cishet jacob can call himself queer all he wants. if he gets some kind of fulfillment out of it, good for him.

i think it's absurd to claim that aspec people don't suffer from heteronormativity, and they are absolutely as queer as any of us. but the point im trying to make is that this boogeyman that exclusionsists are so afraid of does not exist. its not rational at all. you're just hurting people and being some kind of weird purist about it.

does anyone else remember when peoples talking point against asexuality being a queer identity was to make up a cisgender heterosexual but aromantic man who wanted to get in to all the lgbt society meetings or was that just an embarrassing thing people i knew did

[pro-sipper]

where is the post where someone linked a carrd as a source? i need to see it

Here's the post I was referencing

And here's the actual carrd that it links to

To their credit, they do have plenty of "sources". But so much of it has been debunked, is taken out of context, in bad faith, isolated incidents, etc etc. Not to mention how many licensed professionals disagree with their sentiments

Like. They think that proshippers think fiction does not have any impact on reality at all, when more often than not that's not what we're talking about lol. We just say it's not a 1:1 comparison, or seeing something fucked up on a screen doesn't mean we're automatically going to run out and recreate it in real life.

The carrd has a whole section for how saying "fiction doesn't affect reality" is racist when again, that isn't anything near what we're saying. Yes, representation is important, period. We can all agree on that, right? But how does that equate to thinking everyone who watched Game of Thrones went out and fucked their sibling irl? It's not even apples and oranges at this point it's like apples and toenail clippings

Five hundred million people interact with a piece of media, 499,999,999 people walk away from it and go about their normal lives. But one person claims to use it as inspiration for some fucked up crime in real life, then it's automatically the fault of the media and not the fault of the individual. Make it make sense.

[babe-a-yaga]

What was done to Isseya is one of my personal biggest upsets with this game. I loved her in Last Flight. She's a genuinely interesting, complex character, and given the themes of mistakes and regret present through Veilguard, it makes TOTAL sense for her to make an appearance! What makes no sense at all is for her to be reduced to a two dimensional villain with no clear motivation who's just...doing exactly the thing she fucked up in life? Except worse? I'm gonna summarize the events of last flight for the folks who haven't read it;

The first griffin Isseya put through the joining was already blighted in battle, and dying from it. Quickly. Griffins are extra sensitive to the Blight and any attempts made to join them resulted in the animals going berserk and tearing themselves, and anyone else in range, to pieces to get away from what was now in their veins.

In a well meaning, but misguided effort to save one of the animals she loved, she used blood magic to alter the griffon's mind, to convince it the Blight in it's system was just a regular cold, and it didn't need to fight it, then put it through the joining.

It worked, but it changed the griffon. Made it stronger, fight harder. More difficult to handle. The griffon ultimately went out in a spectacular blaze of glory, and people didn't know what she did, just that she did SOMETHING, and that griffon did ten griffons worth of damage on it's way out.

The fourth blight was far worse, far longer than any of the blights we have witnessed first hand. I think it lasted like 15 years? And it was going badly for Thedas. They ordered Isseya to do what she had done to the first griffon again as a last ditch to stand a chance at I *think* Starkhaven (it's been a little bit since I read last flight, so I'm sketchy on dates and what battles were fought specifically when). She hated doing this, but it was orders, and it was exploit this handful of griffons or watch the world die. She's a warden, she signed up to stop the blight at any cost. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.

By the time her brother Garahel slays Andoral, she's had to blight a number of griffons, and the constant blood magic use has massively accelerated the blight in her own body. Her brother garahel is this golden haired pretty boy beloved by everyone who looks upon him, and Isseya looks so much like a ghoul at this point people are uncomfortable being in the same room as her. Even though this is completely due to her service to the wardens.

Then, the remaining joined griffons start going mad. And then it starts to spread to the other, non-joined griffons. In using blood magic to convince the griffons the blight was just a disease, she had caused it to become one. A contagious one.

It's one of the most interesting examples of how dangerous blood magic actually is we ever see. We're just told over and over "blood magic bad, slippery slope to killing people. Bad. Even if you use your own." And we never really see explicitly why it's an inherently dangerous form of magic until this.

Back to Isseya though. Garahel's lover's Griffon had a clutch of eggs sired by Garahel's Crookytail. Isseya, knowing there was no stopping what was now in motion with the griffons, set out to do her one last act of penance. She took, and purified those eggs, hid them in a ward that kept them in stasis, so that they might only hatch once the griffons were gone, and this disease had died with them, so they might have a chance. And then she hid the clues to their location, and begged that whoever find them not let them be used by the wardens again.

And then she went on her calling.

These are not the actions of a villain. Isseya EMBODIES the warden principal of sacrifice. But it isn't glorious battle rewarded by a quick death alongside an archdemon for her. It's death by inches, by blight, knowingly and willingly accelerated in her own body to stop it from consuming the world. Sacrificing her ideals, the animals she loves, her brother, Garahel. Isseya gives it all for the wardens, to end the blight, and is not thanked for it or remembered kindly.

And she did everything she could to seed the slightest bit of hope, that both in spite of her and because of her, griffons might return to the world, as free creatures.

Her Veilguard arc feels like really egregious character assassination, and I wish she had been given an ounce of the sympathy that other characters had been given. It made sense for her to be here, thematically, mistakes and regret, and good intentions still leading to bad ends, but she deserved the same opportunity for forgiveness and/or redemption that Solas, Mythal, Cyrian, even Illario got.

Isseya was done dirty by Veilguard.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if Elsa and Anna’s parents survived their trip to Ahtohallan and back?

The thing is, there were answers in Ahtohallan, but they weren't very actionable or useful for your average person.

Elsa gets something out of it because she dies, turns into snowflakes, and is resurrected as the fifth element. The movie tells me this is the same Elsa we know and love but, well, we'll never know.

For Elsa's parents--they might find out Elsa's the fifth element, but probably not as the guardian horsey isn't going to let them get that close. The other part about shafting the natives that Anna and Elsa found out as the story progressed, well, they probably already have some idea/I can't imagine either of them are naive enough to really believe it was all a terrible tragedy given what happened.

And ultimately, the problem Elsa was having wasn't something that could be solved by the Ahtohallan trip in and of itself. Elsa had to learn not to fear herself, which up until this point everything her parents had done to try and help her had only made things worse.

Which means no matter what they find out, we're right back where we started at Frozen 1. Anna and Elsa have a strained and distant relationship that Anna is extremely frustrated about, but their parents are young and Elsa is highly unlikely to be coronated anytime soon. As a result, the gates are still not open for coronation day and there's no impetus to change (in fact, there might be less, as Elsa's parents are going "fuuuuuuuuuuck" upon coming back and not having an answer to Elsa's problems).

Where things get... interesting... is down the line.

Now, the couple has two daughters. On the one hand, Elsa has been preparing to be queen her entire life, she has sacrificed so much to do so. She's very intelligent, pragmatic, and capable of being queen. But, her powers are out of control with no solution in sight. Sooner or later, she's going to slip, and they can't lock up the fucking country forever.

However, the second daughter, has not been trained for being queen at all and is... Anna. I'm sure her parents love her, they seem to from what we see of them, but Anna, especially as of Frozen 1, does not walk around with the comportment of a queen. Anna's a charming but clumsy goof who is also, at that point in time, swayed by romance and fantasy. Anna wants an adventure, a grand romance, that she might get as a princess who could be married off to a foreign kingdom.... but not as a crown princess/heir apparent.

Not to mention Anna has given 0 indications she wants to be queen, at all, and Elsa really really really does want to live up to expectations.

THOSE POWERS THOUGH.

I imagine there's much debate of "do we send Elsa up north to the wilderness where she can make as many snow things as she likes and cover it up somehow? or do we keep her here and hope for the best despite it just getting worse :/"

And Anna, I imagine, is losing her patience. She's getting close to marrying age, she can get out of this fucking kingdom. She wants to meet handsome princes and LEEEEAAAAAAAVEEEEEEE. This is bad because a) it means no backup for Elsa b) Anna you haven't even met these fucking princes.

But Anna also can't be shut up forever and she really should leave and get married, you know, eventually.

So one of a few things happen:

Under Immense Stress, Elsa Causes Eternal Winter

Sooner or later, probably when some public appearance is mandated with no wiggle room, Elsa fucks up as she did in canon. Maybe Anna is insisting she's going to run off with Hot Prince Hans who is so Hot and Of the Souther Isles, but the way things were going--the pressure was unbearable, and she was near her breaking point.

At this point, we pretty much get Frozen as Anna (probably the catalyst) goes after her sister to find out "what the fuck?!" and is also going after her sister to prove a point to her parents "WHO LIED?! THIS WHOLE TIME?!"

Hans may or may not be involved, but if he is, then he has a lot more royalty to go through this time so is probably not scheming to murder absolutely everyone and "I AM SUDDENLY KING!"

Not quite the same situation as when the king and queen were recently dead, the country in a panic over whether Elsa could handle it, then Elsa's suddenly a fucking witch and oooooof Anna's queen... and she just ran off to the mountains...

Anna of the Souther Isles

Anna gets set up with a match just as she wants and ships off to somewhere warm without any fear of being shut out. Problem is, Anna has no idea who these people are or what she's getting into and it will likely be a fucking mess. Except she's also married to a man she doesn't really know and there's now no easy way out.

"hooraaaaaay" - Anna

[tuulikki]

The funny thing about Jesus shipping is it literally drops us into about 2000 years of Biblical interpretation. Which disciple we pick is an exegesis/headcanon. And, in the most literal sense, it even depends on what texts we decide to count as canon.

Like, if we want to focus on John, we have to note that John is the only gospel that uses "beloved disciple" in the first place. So our source for John is... John.

And obviously "'The Gospel of X' says that X is the most important disciple" is the best fun you can have.

That's why I use "The Gospel of Judas" (c. 2nd-century CE) as my canon, even though it's Gnostic fuckery. tbh I think the "kiss" is the least compelling bit of J/J, because the anachronism of reading anything into that kiss makes it the weakest bullet point in the Jesus/Judas Shipper Manifesto. And the idea of Judas as a zealot is pretty indefensible unless we're just having fun (and we are).

Peter sources are all from the Synoptic Gospels (the oldest Gospels, in chronological order: Mark, Matthew, Luke). We can cherry pick gospels for shipping, but let's be real... Synoptics have Word of God energy lol. We kinda have to concede first place to Peter and then squabble (in good fun) about every other spot on the podium. Peter sure did deny Jesus three times but hey, he didn't betray him to his death.

(Long post, I decided to ramble. Just for my own amusement. Because this was my undergrad degree.)

Judas:

"The Gospel of Judas" is probably the ur-source for Jesus/Judas girlies and I just gotta infodump. Is it canonical to any Christian tradition? No, it’s docetist tomfoolery. But it's a really fun text to pull in because, as you'd expect from "The Gospel of Judas," Judas is Jesus' specialist little disciple:

(Jesus said to the disciples) “[Let] any one of you who is [strong enough] among human beings bring out the perfect human and stand before my face.” They all said, “We have the strength.” But their spirits did not dare to stand before [him], except for Judas Iscariot. He was able to stand before him, but he could not look him in the eyes, and he turned his face away.

You get Jesus selecting Judas as the only one who was worthy while also being enigmatic and fucking off when Judas asks questions:

Knowing that Judas was reflecting upon something that was exalted, Jesus said to him, “Step away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the kingdom. It is possible for you to reach it, but you will grieve a great deal. For someone else will replace you, in order that the twelve [disciples] may again come to completion with their god.” Judas said to him, “When will you tell me these things, and [when] will the great day of light dawn for the generation?” But when he said this, Jesus left him.

You also get an enigmatic nickname and weird lovingly condescending divinity:

Judas said, “Master, as you have listened to all of them, now also listen to me. For I have seen a great vision.” When Jesus heard this, he laughed and said to him, “You thirteenth spirit, why do you try so hard? But speak up, and I shall bear with you.”

And we can’t emphasise enough that while Judas is special and the only one Jesus confides the truth in, Jesus tells him he’ll be reviled pretty much until the End Times. Poor little meow meow Judas:

When he heard this, Judas said to him, “What good is it that I have received it? For you have set me apart for that generation.” Jesus answered and said, “You will become the thirteenth, and you will be cursed by the other generations—and you will come to rule over them. In the last days they will curse your ascent to the holy [generation].”

And although The Last Temptation of Christ was written well before we found the Gospel of Judas, we get the same dynamic where Jesus and Judas both know beforehand that Judas will enable Jesus’ sacrifice, which has a tragic weird intimacy about it:

“But you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.”

This bit really almost reads like fanfic already:

“Look, you have been told everything. Lift up your eyes and look at the cloud and the light within it and the stars surrounding it. The star that leads the way is your star.”

Speaking of The Last Temptation of Christ, I personally find it to be a better, weirder J/J source than "Jesus Christ Superstar." Not least because it tries to reconcile the gospels the most of I've seen in any other piece of media. Side note: When I say "reconcile," I mean narratively dealing with contradictions. E.g., how Nativity plays put both magi (Matthew) and shepherds (Luke) in the same story.

And "The Last Temptation of Christ" film adaptation really brings in the unsettling chaotic energy that I think a story about an incarnate deity destined to die requires. Apart from "Goncharov," it's my favourite Scorsese:

John:

If we ditch the Synoptic gospels and focus on John, of course John will give us John as the "disciple whom Jesus loved," since John is the only gospel that uses that term. And John is the best-written gospel, hands-down, so it's just a winner of a text.

Though, just to clarify for anyone who might have misread what OP said: the word "philtatos" is not in the Bible. The closest concept is the "ho mathētēs hon ēgapā ho Iēsous"/"disciple whom Jesus loved" term that the John author invented to describe John. And since John is the last of the canonical Gospels, it would be absolutely bugfuck crazy Dan-Brownery to make historical claims. But I hope Jesus/John shippers are out there pulling in the Apocryphon of John just because the opening is pretty poignant. And obviously John 13:23 with John leaning on Jesus' chest is tremendously good.

Peter:

For Peter, I feel like having the Synoptics backing up your ship will always give the superior claim to, uh, your ship being canon. But the full bit of Matt 26:33-35 kinda ruins my fun:

Peter replied, “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.” Truly I tell you, Jesus answered, “this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.” But Peter declared, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” And all the other disciples said the same.

All the other disciples chiming in makes it less special. And the fact that he does disown Jesus is a bit... :(

I think my problem is that Peter gives me Kronk energy by running about hopping out of boats and swinging his sword about. It's giving "Peter, dumb as a rock". But I'd be lying if that didn't make for good material.

Tangentially: I'm also in the camp that The Secret Gospel of Mark was a forgery (it's too damn convenient to find an intensely controversial "gay gospel" and then whoops! we lose the gospel à la Joseph Smith's golden tablets) but I respect Morton Smith for giving us this:

“The youth, looking upon [Jesus], loved him and began to beseech him that he might be with him,” it read. “And after six days Jesus told him what to do and in the evening the youth comes to him, wearing a linen cloth over his naked body. And he remained with him that night, for Jesus taught him the mystery of the kingdom of God.”

If only he'd had access to AO3...

jesus/judas isn't even the best jesus yaoi. the betrayal kiss is a powerful symbol for sure and judas killing himself after jesus' crucifixion is of course hugely significant (see: jesus christ superstar). but in biblical canon there is literally a disciple described as jesus' most beloved. his favourite disciple. his philtatos, for the song of achilles girlies. he was the last disciple to die, he leans his head on jesus' shoulder at the last supper (and some scholars believe he was the only one jesus told of the nature of judas' betrayal). and lest we forget peter, who also betrayed/rejected jesus after swearing his eternal love for him, threatened to kill and die for him, was all like "i'll follow you anywhere" and "i'll be with you forever". straight up tried to walk on water for jesus. He was crazy. it was yaoi central in there

[bengiyo]

Sailom from Wedding Plan? 👀 ✨?

Ah, Sailom, my beloved. Thank you, bestie.

How I feel about this character

I think he's one of the best versions of a closeted rich man we've ever had in Thai BL. Sailom works so well because Namnuea isn't poor, and Wiwa Square isn't struggling. He's also got completely valid reasons for withholding information from Namnuea. The way this situation spiraled is so believable, and it's also believable how they got themselves out of it. This is my favorite MAME work because I completely get both Namnuea and Sailom. I will forever love this man for putting his own life on hold to protect his best friend's lesbian relationship.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Namnuea, baby!! My man earned this moment!

But also...I know in my heart that he and Prapai fucked exactly twice in England.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Yihwa is the only answer. The entire story revolves around how much Sailom is willing to sacrifice for her. The reason why they are one of the best platonic OTP's of all time is that Yihwa and Marine never took what Lom was doing for them for granted, and they were also unwilling to let him sacrifice something real with Namnuea for them. He and Yihwa protected each other for over a decade. He was genuinely sad when they couldn't go to England for their wedding. Their friendship is so important to me.

My unpopular opinion about this character

My unpopular opinion is that he's not a bad guy, and Namnuea isn't a damsel being abused by him. I find it a bit difficult to engage in romance stories if we're reading one person as an giver and another as a receiver. It feels a bit reductive, and the characters start to feel inhuman. What I love so much about Wedding Plan is how actively engaged all of the characters are in their stories, even down to the supporting cast. I think this show captured queer peril in a real way. I think I'd feel differently if the show didn't directly confront Lom's actions as he flirted with Namnuea and stressed him out. As it is, they are married, and I love that for them!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I kinda wish we'd see Lom's dad. It feels pretty pointed that he's completely absent from everything that happened, and we know he's around. I'm a bit sad that we only ever saw Lom be flippant with his mom, when we saw Nuea's parents involve with the entire wedding.

For the Character Breakdown Ask Game