#but all the neg tags on here are dead

[barzfrommarz]

does anyone else scroll thru neg posts of characters (specifically dsmp) they don’t like to remind myself why I hate them because I have terrible memory

[crimeronan]

entering the kind of depression era wherein posts encouraging people to think of nice things in their lives make me start crying because i can't think of anything except for things that also just make me hate myself (ie: my family is very nice to me about how i'm too fucking useless to do my job or chores or errands or anything other than lay in bed). probably i will end up logging outta this blog if this continues for much longer because i don't really like who i am currently nor do i have the capacity to pretend to be anything else anymore and i'd prefer to post on this blog when i can actually, like, perform personhood adequately. if i do vanish in the coming days you can assume i'm taking a normal sabbatical unless papika or faewaren post that i'm dead/hospitalized/whatever. peace and love genuinely thanks for all the support ✌️💕👍

[daz4i]

man you ever wanna die just so you don't have to deal with the shit that is real life

[hex-flareheart]

To be angry with others being treated better than yourself is but natural. Such a thing is unfair, and unjust, after all.

But to blindly direct that anger towards those treated better is foolish, for often they hold no fault in your suffering.

Look instead to those who purposely treat you worse, who reward your loyalty to them through pitiful, deficient, outdated means, knowing full well they could treat you better, but refuse to.

Look to those who utter proven lies, who withhold resources and build shoddy, deficient systems, all so they can enrich themselves, rather than you or anyone else. They are the ones that deserve your anger.

Perhaps these may not be distinct groups. Sometimes those who are treated better and those who purposely treat you poorly are one and the same. But sometimes they are not.

Knowing the difference, and knowing who should truly be held accountable, is where true wisdom lies.

[thebibliosphere]

I was talking with a mutual a few moments ago who was like, "I don't keep up with your blog, so sometimes I just go into your chronic health tag to see what fresh hell you've survived this month," and it pinged something else I was talking about in therapy this week when I was complaining bitterly that I just feel like I'm spinning my wheels and getting nowhere with my work despite all the progress I've made with my health and how fucking useless I feel and why can't I just work more? I'm better now. What's wrong with me, etc etc.

And my therapist stopped me dead like, "We're going to come back to that negative self-talk in a minute, but I need to check something. You realize that what you're going through, most people would still consider to be an active health crisis, yes? Like yes, you've made progress, but to anyone who hasn't gone through what you've gone through, this would still very much be a crisis situation. No, let me reword that. Your perception is skewed; regardless of what you've gone through, this is still a crisis situation. You are not better, [Joy]. You're just not at risk of immediate death."

So now I'm just sort of sitting here in the dark thinking my thoughts and feeling some kind of way I don't know how to put into words.

Might have a cry about it, tbh.

[dalishious]

About Davrin's little blurb on the official website for Dragon Age: The Veilguard...

"Though he was raised in a Dalish clan, he craved excitement and adventure. He'd rather make history than reflect on it."

There's actually a lot to unpack about these two sentences.

First off, placing the word "though" in front of being "raised in a Dalish clan", gives such a thing a negative connotation. The word "though" is used in a way that sounds like "despite", as in, somehow wanting excitement and adventure must go against being Dalish. This correlates with sentence that follows. "He'd rather make history than reflect on it." The word "rather" is yet again used to separate Davrin from his Dalish origin. All together, this promotional description of Davrin is insisting that he is "not like other Dalish".

Now, obviously the game is not out yet, so we do not have total confirmation on what the nature of Davrin's relationship to his culture is really like. But there is absolutely something to be said about promoting the character this way, regardless of however he actually turns out in game. There is absolutely something to be said about how, as @/the-eldritch-it-gay put in their tags here, why do writers feel the need to make fantasy minorities hate or distance themselves from their culture? As a selling point?

Maybe this is completely misleading bullshit, maybe it isn't. All we have to go by, is what BioWare chose to say here, and their past track record with elves:

Zevran may talk about his mother in a font way, but he still has the line, "Too many of our kind think we deserve pity simply because we have failed to defend ourselves."

Velanna is one of the two elves we've had who is overtly proud of her culture, yet she is treated like she is unreasonable and too angry because of it.

Merrill too, is proud of being an elf, and of being Dalish. The story punishes her left and right for this, treats her like a child, and in the end she is either ostracized from her clan or they end up dead because... she cared too much?

Fenris has pretty much zero engagement with elven cultures, and spends his time ridiculing Merrill for being proud of hers.

Solas complains about the Dalish from the start, and says plainly that he does not see himself as having anything in common with elves of current time. "Oh, you mean elves" he says, when the Inquisitor asks how he feels about his people; the thought does not even occur to him.

Sera is... Sera is a character who could have been a really interesting examination of overcoming internalized racism, if she was written by someone competent with the subject. Instead, she just cringes at everything "too elfy" through the entire main game, and only has a single line in Trespasser that hints that she may have a personal struggle going on. But it's still left unresolved.

That's a lot a lot of negativity. So of course seeing a suggestion that more is to come with Davrin has people wary and tired.

Let us also consider the fact that Davrin is overtly Black as well, and what that means. Acting as if one must disregard history in order to make it, as his description so claims, is bullshit. It sounds too much like promoting gentrification/assimilation in my opinion; the idea that you cannot keep your culture if you want to be successful.

I also think that it goes even deeper, on a meta level - I think that BioWare is afraid people will not be able to like or relate to Davrin, if he is "too ethnic". I think that BioWare is taking this Black character and instead of questioning how he can best represent marginalized fans - particularly Black fans - they are questioning how to make him more relatable to white fans. And the only answer to that is to, of course, make him seem like he is an exception to marginalization through separating him from his people.

I am still holding onto hope that Davrin will overall be an interesting, well-written character. And I sure as hell will still be defending him from the people who are already hating on him or ignoring him completely because of their racialized biases. But that does not exempt BioWare, and specifically his writer, John Dombrow, from any criticism. This is not about Davrin the character, this is about BioWare the company's handling of Davrin the character. And in that regard, they're not off to a great start with this.

[kimmkitsuragi]

feels like im not qualified enough to live a life

[minus-plus-zer0]

While You're Gone

♡ Genre: Fluff, not as sad as the title sounds ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up, established relationships, clingy/pining/dorky/needy/loser Bakugou (aka regular Bakugou)

You abandoned Bakugou at home to buy groceries alone, you traitor.

Bakugou couldn't forgive this. Currently, he laid flat on the couch, face down. Once you got back, he wouldn't let you rest your weary feet on such a comfy spot. You'd have to deal with him, whether you liked it or not.

He couldn't believe how truly callous you were on the inside. It went against everything he knew of you. Bakugou had dated you for a few years now, and had been in love with you even prior to that. He was dead set on marrying you at this point. And yet... you betrayed him.

He easily recalled the moment, like it was only five minutes ago (it was).

"It won't be long, Katsuki!" you said, while opening your apartment front door. "I promise I'll get you a nice, tasty snack!"

"I'm not a dog, I don't need treats." Bakugou's hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he approached you. "I need my fucking girlfriend. It's our day off!"

"You have your girlfriend every single night," you said, patting his cheek. "You live with your girlfriend every single day of your life. And you kiss your girlfriend every morning before work. You are too needy if you want more than that."

He scowled but did not fight back against your intrusive hand. "A girlfriend is supposed to love me, not leave. Why can't I just go with you?"

"Because if we go together, we'll get distracted again, or you might start another argument with an elderly shopper, or you might even prevent me from making bad purchases! That's why you can't go!"

"But that's--"

"Goodbye, Katsuki! I will see you in a few hours!"

You shut the door behind you. He still couldn't believe it, even now.

As you left, you wondered to yourself one question that had always been on your mind, "What does Bakugou do while you are gone?" If you had a pet camera installed, you would've seen the antics your boyfriend got up to in the following moments...

Time passed by while Bakugou held down the fort. Although Bakugou tried to continue defending the couch, his boredom overwhelmed his spitefulness towards you and it forced him to do something productive.

While you were gone, Bakugou entered argument after argument with anyone he could to blow off some steam. His texts were filled with jabs at Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and more. It wasn't long until they correctly guessed that Bakugou's bad mood was due to your absence. Bakugou swiftly blocked them.

When he couldn't complain to other people, Bakugou sometimes grumbled to himself, speaking to nobody as he vented about his day.

"Stupid couch..."

"Stupid food..."

"Stupid bills! Fuck you!"

Occasionally, Bakugou thought you came home early. He would then poke his head around the house, checking to see if you were home. But more often than not it was just the sound of his neighbors' doors opening and closing, and he grew even more irritated than before. You weren't answering your texts either.

What's worse, there were little reminders of you all around the house. It was only natural, seeing as how you two lived here together. Every time Bakugou started focusing on something negative, he'd be reminded of you and how you'd scold him for thinking that way. It felt like you were still scolding him, even now. He missed it already.

Without you around, Bakugou persisted in his negativity. He would walk down to the ground floor of the apartment complex you lived in to get mail and still managed to yell at a minimum of one person during the trip. Bakugou wouldn't stray far from home knowing that you could be back at any minute, and returned soon enough to double-check if you arrived while he wasn't looking. You didn't.

While cleaning up, Bakugou found some clothes that you stole from him in your dresser. He stole them right back and replaced them with other clothes he owned that he thought would look even better on you, hoping you would surprise him one day by wearing them. He thought of himself as quite clever for doing so, and couldn't wait to see when his masterful plots came to fruition.

After cleaning the house, prepping dinner, and fulfilling his daily quota of pissing off a certain number of innocent individuals, Bakugou was exhausted. He had nothing productive left to do. He couldn't get involved in his normal hobbies like working out or hiking because it would take too much time and the day was almost over. He needed you home.

Finally, you opened the door while lugging around heavy groceries. "Katsuki! I'm here!"

"Dammit, text first!" Bakugou rose from the couch to take a bag from your arms.

"Thank you," you said, as you both set the groceries down on the kitchen counter. You kissed him on the lips quickly, but he retaliated with a much stronger kiss that pushed you back a step.

"Your welcome," Bakugou said, teasingly. "Got so bored without ya here. There's only reminders of you around the house."

"Well, it's probably 'cause I live here." You laughed a little and hugged him. Obviously he hugged back. "You can think of me all the time all you want. I give you my full permission."

"So you're haunting my head now, are ya?" Bakugou kissed the top of your head.

"I've always haunted you!" You kissed his chin. "Even before we were together! And I'll haunt you long after I'm gone..."

"Don't say that. I don't want ya gone." He harshly kissed your sweet lips again to prove he was telling the truth. He held your precious face in his hands. "We'll always be together."

"Always. So, what did you do while I was gone?"

"Tch. Why don't you stay home next time? Then you'd know."

You really needed to install that pet camera one of these days...

(Inspired by videos of "what does your cat do while you're away?", only instead of a cat it's your boyfriend! I think the clingy separation anxiety of these cats left at home perfectly matches Bakugou 110%!)

[cjlouwho]

Bucktommy cuddling in bed, please? Doesn't have to lead to anything, just them being soft.

Since their third date, when Buck told Tommy about his fears after getting struck by lightning and how he spent so long texting Bobby every morning to make sure everything was alright, Buck woke up to a text from Tommy.

Without fail.

Five straight months of 6am texts. Even the days he was working, when he was already awake and had been for a while, he'd still get a text to check in.

That's why Buck's heart nearly sunk directly to the floor when he checked his phone one morning at 6:32am, right after they'd gotten back from a call, to see that Tommy hadn't texted him.

He hesitated briefly, but sent Tommy a heart, followed by a everything okay?

Another thing Tommy had always been great at is answering Buck back quickly. The only time he didn't, or couldn't, was when he was working.

And he wasn't working today.

It didn't take long for Bobby to notice him glaring down at his phone.

“What's wrong, Buck?”

“Oh,” Buck put his phone back in his pocket, waving Bobby off. “It's nothing. No big deal.”

“You sure? Looks like it might be. Everything okay?”

Buck let out a sigh, then explained. “Tommy hasn't missed a morning of texting me for five months. Every single morning, six on the dot.”

“I'm guessing there was no text today?”

Buck shook his head. “No. I texted him, but I haven't heard back. Maybe... Maybe he just overslept? Or forgot, or something.”

“Okay,” Bobby replied with a nod, “well, go get changed and head on out. We've got it covered.”

“But, Cap-”

“Shift ends in thirty minutes anyway. And we both know you won't be able to let it go until you make sure he's alright. Need Eddie to tag along?”

“N- No, I.. I'm sure I'm overreacting.”

“Text me and let me know once you know. And Buck?”

“Yeah, Cap?”

“Try not to panic.”

Not willing to make any promises, Buck turned and headed for his locker.

*****

It took him nearly half an hour to get to Tommy's place, and he didn't think twice about using the key Tommy had given him a couple months back to let himself in. Especially since he still hadn't heard a word from him.

“Tommy?” He spoke cautiously as he entered the house, trying to keep calm against all the negative thoughts running through his mind.

No answer.

The house was dark. It didn't look like Tommy had been up at all. If it weren't for his car out front, Buck wouldn't think he was there.

He moved further into the house, heading down the hall toward Tommy's bedroom.

“Tommy?” His voice was shaky this time, unsteady.

The door squeaked as he pushed it open, but he immediately sighed a breath of relief when the body tangled up under the covers moved.

“Evan?” Tommy questioned, eyes squinting toward him in confusion. “Why're you here?”

“I'm checking on you.” Buck toed off his shoes and walked over to the bed, crawling up beside Tommy. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and resting a hand over his forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

“M'fine,” Tommy answered, wrapping the blankets tighter around his neck. His voice still sounded rough from sleep. “What time is it? You're supposed to be at work.”

“It's a little past seven. I got worried when I didn't get a text from you this morning. Cap let me leave early.”

“Seven?” Tommy looked even more confused by that. He turned and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, shoulders slumping when he confirmed the time. “God, Evan, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know.”

“It's okay,” Buck assured him. “I'm just glad you're not severely injured or dead, like my head decided you were on the way over.”

Tommy smiled softly, holding out his arms for Buck to come lay in.

Happily, Buck pushed the comforter back on his usual side of the bed and laid beside Tommy, resting his head on his chest.

With one of Tommy's hands soothingly rubbing up and down his back, and the other massaging at his scalp, Buck almost allowed himself to be completely at ease.

Almost.

Because he still knew that something was wrong, even if he couldn't quite figure it out yet.

After pressing a kiss to Tommy's pec, Buck asked again, “Are you okay?”

Tommy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he answered. “My mom died thirty years ago today,” he admitted.

Buck stilled, then brought his arm to wrap tighter around Tommy's waist. “Oh, Tommy, I- I had no idea.” He leaned up slightly to be able to look at him. “You didn't tell me before, did you? Because-”

“No, no. I don't ever really talk about it, so I'm sure I've never mentioned it.”

Carefully, Buck rolled off of Tommy, lying flat on the bed. He pulled Tommy along with him, having him rest inside his arms instead. “I decided you're the one needing held today,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head.

Tommy laid on him with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of Buck's heart thumping in his chest. “I don't usually miss her this much,” he said. “I mean, I always miss her, but anniversaries don't usually make it worse.”

“Grief has a way of sneaking up on you when you don't expect it.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “It's kind of a pain in the ass.”

Buck huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it is.”

“I just... I think about talking to her a lot. Telling her about my life, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“And there's always been updates here and there. She would have hated me being in the army. Would've been worried sick. She would still worry about me as a firefighter, but she would have been proud. But I think,” he paused, snuggling closer to Buck, “I think this is the first time I could've told her all about my personal life, not just the work stuff.”

Buck's hand stilled from where his fingertips had lightly been brushing over Tommy's arm. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. All these years I've just gone over what work accomplishments I could have talked to her about. I didn't even think about that this time.”

Carefully, Buck scooted further down into the bed. He maneuvered them around until they were both on their sides facing one another. He tangled their legs together, and they each slung an arm around the other's waist.

“What would you have said?” Buck asked. “About your life?”

Tommy smiled. “You wanna hear me talk about you?”

“Oh, this life conversation includes me?” Buck replied cheekily. “I guess that's just a plus.”

Tommy stared into Buck's eyes as he thought over his words. “I would've told her that my friend Howie called me one day and asked me for an insane favor. A favor I probably should've thought twice about, but I didn't. And how he showed up with these two other guys who I'd never seen before. Then one of those guys would go on to make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Even as he teared up, a smile grew on Buck's face. “You mean Eddie, don't you?”

That got a laugh out of Tommy. A big laugh where his eyes closed and his nose scrunched up. “I'd also tell her he always knows how to make me feel better. And he's good to me, and for the first time in my life I feel complete.”

“You do?” Buck asked, eyes going soft.

“I do. I'd tell her that this guy never stops surprising me. How he cares so deeply about everyone around him that I constantly have to remind him that he exists too. How fiercely protective he is. How safe I feel with him.”

Buck fought at blinking his tears away. He cleared his throat. “Do you think your mom would wanna meet me?”

“Oh, I know she'd wanna meet you. She'd be crazy about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Because I'd like to tell her more about her son.”

“Evan.”

“I'm serious.” Buck brought his hand to Tommy's face, stroking his cheek. “I'd love to tell her what a great job she did raising you. How gentle you are, how loving and patient you are. How you always listen, and you seem to know how I'm feeling before I do. How I- I'd love to spend the rest of my life beside you, if you'd let me.”

Tommy swallowed hard. “Really?”

Buck nodded.

It wasn't a proposal. They didn't even live together yet. But it was a promise. A promise of a future together without an expiration date.

Tommy cradled himself into Buck's arms again. “I love you so much, Evan.”

Buck held him tight, hoping the depth of love he had for Tommy could be felt through his touch. “I love you too, Tommy.”

[silvvermoon]

lover, not a liar ♡

Aki, your best friend, has agreed to teach you how to suck cock. But you need more than that.

pairing: aki hayakaya x reader

wc: 3.7k

tags: friends to lovers, slightly tipsy sex, dom!Aki, rough sex, blowjobs, pet names (baby, princess), calling u good girl, praise, slight dacryphilia, creampie, fluffy ending ♡

“Aki,” you slur, mouth wet and feeling all too warm from the drinks you’d had earlier in the evening. “Are you gonna show it to me or what?” 

You’re sitting on your knees and staring up at your best friend’s erection straining through his grey sweatpants which is, well, pretty unexpected. And definitely not how you pictured spending your Friday night. Aki’s above you, palming himself softly while you wait eagerly for him to teach you how to suck cock. And seeing him like this makes you feel hot. 

It wasn’t something either of you had planned on or even touched on before. You’ve never even shared a kiss with Aki, not a proper one anyway. You’re friends, platonic friends, and that’s all. But tonight, during your usual pizza and movie catch up, the stress of the week finally caught up with you. The awkward silence from your latest 3-month-long fling has been sitting on your mind all night and you just wanted to toss those thoughts all away. Get drunk, complain to Aki, and get distracted by whatever Netflix has to offer. 

Well, that was supposed to be the plan.

Except you forgot how much you overshare once you get a few drinks in you. And Aki’s not exactly 100% sober, despite him holding his alcohol a lot better than you. You never even did get around to ordering that pizza because once you were feeling buzzed enough, all you could keep saying was “and before he started ghosting me, that asshole complained that my blowjobs were terrible. Too much tongue, not enough suction, fuck. Like come on, I wanted to make it good for him but he never told me what he wanted until after, when he just threw negative fucking feedback at me. It’s so humiliating, Aki. Look at my phone! He gave me a rating like I was his Uber driver. Who does that? Who?”

And Aki had, indeed, taken a look at your phone, winced, and then handed it back to you. “I think you dodged a bullet with this one,” he’d said, “and don’t listen to it. I’m sure that’s the last time anyone will suck his dick for him. Even if he offered to pay.”

You’d snorted, laughed so hard that you almost choked even though Aki was dead serious. “But what if he’s telling the truth? Maybe I am shit at giving blowjobs.”

Aki looked at you then, softly, maybe a little bit tipsy too. “It’s the enthusiasm that counts, knowing that you want this so much is what makes blowjobs feel good,” he’d said, and then “besides, I’m sure you’re not shit at them, I’ve seen the way you eat your ice-cream. That’s some real devotion, right there.”

You giggled again, “Sure, sloppy. With no real technique.” And that was that. Your laughter died into  easy silence and Aki was prepared to switch the show on Netflix, until your tipsy brain got the sudden idea of doing something incredibly dumb.

And later, you blame it on the alcohol, you blame it on the way Aki’s too easy to open up to, you blame it on the way his body is so welcoming and relaxed next to you. Hell, you even blame it on Netflix for having absolutely zero worthwhile anything available to distract you from Aki and blowjobs and thinking of his dick while he’s literally right fucking there. You blame it on Aki’s face, which is clearly a weapon in both seduction and destruction on its own.

Nope, not your fault at all. Never.

And, you know all too well that being tipsy makes you act on things you would otherwise keep locked away in the back of your mind. You wouldn’t have felt this way if you hadn’t felt Aki’s own hot gaze on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

So, here you went.

“Hey, Aki, maybe I could… try it on you?” you smiled, face feeling hot from more than just the alcohol. “Can you teach me how to give a better blowjob? With guidance, you know? I mean, if it’s too weird you can say no.”

Yep. You said it. No take backs now.

“You want me to-” Aki paused, swallowing. And then he looked at you, maybe for a second too long where it felt like he was calculating too many things for one night to have. His cheeks were only a little bit red when he turned the TV off and said “sure, I’ll do my best.”

~

And that’s why you’re here. With Aki. Waiting desperately for him to give you permission to pull down his briefs. It should feel weird, awkward, maybe at least a little bit wrong, but it doesn’t. It’s just you and Aki and the growing heat between your thighs.

“Firstly, you’ve gotta open your mouth,” Aki says, and he reaches out with one hand to cup your jaw, thumbing at your lip. He hasn’t kissed you or anything, simply easing you down to the floor with a pillow to prop yourself up on. You open your lips and let Aki press his thumb in against your tongue, taking in the softness of his skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “That’s a good girl.”

You nod, humming. Aki’s voice makes your stomach tighten, the way he calls you a good girl. His fingers feel nice in your mouth, as do the ones threading through your hair, massaging your scalp while you lazily suck. 

“Teach me?” you ask, mouth still full of his fingers.

Aki grips your hair just a tad bit tighter. “That’s what I’m doing, but I need you to be patient for me,” he says, and then “we’re taking it slowly, making sure you know where to touch,” he takes your hand, pressing it to his thigh, “and where to tease,” he says softly, bring your other hand to rest against his erection. You can feel him, so thick and hard beneath the tight fabric. With Aki’s encouragement, you give him a soft rub, just ghosting your fingers over the outline of his bulge, keeping your touch light and without expectation.

“Just like that,” Aki murmurs, and when you glance up at him you can see the blush on his cheeks, eyes heavy. He’s turned on, and there’s something incredibly hot knowing that it’s you doing this to him. Aki’s your friend, yes, but you’d be lying if you said that you’d never been attracted to him.

And you’d be an even bigger liar if you said that asking this of him tonight was purely so you could ‘learn’. 

Aki reaches to pull his briefs down, swatting your hands away as you try to do it for him too hastily. “Slow down, what did I say about being patient?” he says. But your pouting turns to arousal as soon as his cock is out, all for you. Aki’s hard as fuck, his cock incredibly thick and girthy with a nice soft curve that you know would hit all the right places inside you. It’s gorgeous, you think, no, you know. You haven’t seen it before but fuck, you’ve definitely thought about it. At night, when you’re horny and tired and too lazy to look at porn, you’ve wondered what Aki’s cock would look like, feel like in your hands, your mouth, your pussy.

And from what he’s showing you, Aki doesn’t disappoint. His girthy cock is the most perfect shade of flushed pink that you’ve ever seen.

“Open a bit wider for me, that’s right,” Aki whispers, cock twitching when you say an over exaggerated ‘ahhh’ and stick your tongue out. His hips move forward gently, his cockhead resting against your tongue, dribbling small amounts of sticky precum on to your tastebuds. He tastes good; only slightly musky with a hint of salt. Way better than anyone else you’ve had in your mouth. 

“Aki, gim’ mor-“ you try to say around the cock in your mouth, choking off when Aki thrusts in unexpectedly. You automatically open your mouth wider, adjusting to the sudden fullness that’s about to hit the back of your throat. Aki doesn’t even move, just stays like that while your eyes tear up and you try to just breathe.

“I’m impressed,” he marvels, thumb brushing against your lower lip that’s stretched around him. “Just wanted to test your reflexes, pretty girl. Didn’t expect you to take me in so well,” he smiles, starting to rock his hips back and forth. 

You can’t do anything other than force yourself to relax, mind hazy as Aki’s thick shaft fills your mouth over and over again. You can feel the wetness beginning to grow between your own thighs, your cunt slick with arousal just from having Aki praise you for sucking his cock. It’s embarrassing. But it doesn’t stop you from desperately reaching down to rub at your clothed pussy while you continue to give him head. You need to rub yourself just to relieve some of the pressure that’s building in your aching little cunt.

Aki only pauses for half a second when he sees you do this, watches you hurriedly shove your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties to rub at your throbbing clit, and you know he must like what he sees because you feel his cock twitch hard against your tongue.

“Turned on?” he breathes out, which you both know is obvious from the way you’re getting yourself off so frantically. The sound of your slick folds squelching as you finger yourself is even louder than the gasps Aki lets out when he nudges his cockhead against the back of your throat. You choke every time he does that, eyes watering from the lack of air and from feeling so used , but your hand never stops rubbing your clit. No, you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. The alcohol in your system isn’t even what’s making you so forward, it’s the fact that you’re just so fucking riled up from having Aki in your mouth, fucking your throat. 

Aki’s the reason why your panties are stained with a thick layer of your cream. Aki’s the reason why your pussy is desperately clenching around your fingers, pulling them further into your wet heat. Aki’s the reason why you’ve become such a shameful slut who can’t stop touching herself the moment she gets a taste of her best friend's dick.

“See, baby?” he whispers, pumping his cock deeper into your mouth, “you already know how to give a good blowjob, look at you, showing me just how horny you get from letting me use your mouth.” Aki murmurs all this while stroking your hair, his fingers in your scalp so he can hold your head still while he rocks into you.

It’s all so much, your own fingers in your cunt and Aki’s cock in your mouth. All of it feels so good and you know Aki’s meant to be teaching you how to suck properly, how to use your tongue, but now you just desperately want to feel his cock inside your pussy. You mewl around his length, stuffed full and barely able to breathe. All you know is you want him to pound you right now. Nothing else matters. 

“Keep playing with your pretty little pussy for me, okay baby? The view I get from here shows me just how much you want this.” 

And fuck, those words do something to you, because the knot in your stomach grows and you desperately add another finger into your cunt, twisting and rubbing against your sweet spot.

It’s not enough.

You pull back off Aki’s cock for a gasp of air. “Aki-” you breathe, spit soaked lips sore as you speak, “m’ fingers aren’t enough, need more, need you,” you sob. “I wanted to make you cum with my mouth but, I need- just, I need your cock-” you choke off. And it’s embarrassing how needy you are in this moment, but you don’t feel any of it when you’re this aroused. 

Aki grips your chin, soft but firm. “You need me to fuck this princess cunt of yours to make you happy? You want it that bad that you can’t hold out any longer?” you nod in response, still rubbing softly at your own swollen clit. Aki bites his lip, stroking your jaw, and says “Well, I guess you deserve it, since you’ve been such a good girl for me, taking my cock as deep as you can down that pretty throat.”

“Fuck, Aki, please yes that’s what I-.”

It all happens so quickly after that. You don’t get the chance to even say anything before Aki’s picking you up by the waist and urging you onto the couch, spreading your body out on the cushions while he looms above you. Your mouth is still wet with his precum, but Aki leans down to kiss you anyway. He presses his lips against yours for the first time, groaning softly into your mouth while he rocks his leaking cock against your bare thigh. It’s a stark difference to the control he had before when he was fucking your mouth, he’d been easy to talk no matter how deep you took him in, only letting out small gasps every now and then. But now? Aki’s moaning, soft little choked back noises just from kissing you. It’s hotter than it should be, and your only response is to wrap your arms around his back and pull him in for more.

Any other time you’d want to indulge Aki with more kisses, but now you just need him inside you. 

“Aki,” you murmur against his lips, “need you to stretch me out. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“You’re still so impatient,” he says, strong hands parting your thighs and pulling your soaked panties down to your ankles. “And you’re this fucking wet from just taking me in your mouth?” he says, swiping a finger through your slick folds, brushing your swollen clit and making you shiver. Your pussy is fully exposed like this, skirt hiked up high above your stomach while Aki settles between your legs, his length pressed up against your soaked pussy. You’re both leaking, and you honestly can’t tell if it’s your own wetness or Aki’s precum that’s making the squelching sounds when his cockhead slaps against your fluttering entrance.

There’s only a fraction of hesitation, Aki looking down at you with heavy eyes, “are you sure?” he asks, and “oh my god Aki, fucking yes,” you tell him. You’re really fucking sure because if he doesn’t keep going, you’re going to explode.

And then he’s pressing in. No prep. You’re so wet that you don’t even need his tongue or fingers to ease the stretch from his cock. Aki’s kissing you while he slowly enters you, giving you time to adjust to the slight sting of the stretch. “You’re doing so well, such a good girl for me,” he whispers, moving down to kiss your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin there. “Knew you’d end up with more than just sucking my cock, you wanted this,” he finishes, bottoming out with his length fully stuffed inside your cunt. 

You gasp, whimpering into Aki’s shoulder while he nudges his cockhead against your sweet spot. “You knew? I didn’t- fuck, I didn’t plan it like this,” you choke out. The pleasure is hitting you harder now. This isn’t your fingers inside of you, this is Aki . And he’s pretty and strong and gorgeous and seemingly already knows how you like the shallow thrusts against your g-spot. “A-Aki,” you stutter, your body writhing against his while he fills you over and over again.

“You hoped for it though, didn’t you?” he murmurs, slow, shallow thrusts that stretch your tight walls around his length. The sensation is intoxicating for both of you, and your mind goes blank at the sound of his deep voice. Yes. He’s right. You wanted this, Aki fucking you, hidden behind some flimsy pretense of teaching you how to suck him off. He knows, you know, and now you can’t shy away from his lips against your own. You nod into him because there’s no point denying it now. He’s your best friend and he knows you.

Aki kisses you like he’s been waiting for years. And he has been waiting for years. It’s all tongue and teeth while he pounds your pussy hard and god you’re a mess. All you can get out is a gasping “I think I’m gonna cum, Aki, please, I need it rougher,” with your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head when he fucks you harder. You almost cry when the head of his cock bumps your cervix, it’s a mix of sharp pleasure and pain and you love it, your pussy letting out small squirts each time he rams into your cervix. Your hands curl against the fabric of the couch, trying to find some sense of stability while your body is getting pushed to the limit. You’re not even drunk from the alcohol anymore, just all love drunk from Aki’s perfect cock. 

You’re about to warn him, but Aki gets in before you, his voice raspy in your ear while he thrusts into you. “Yeah you’re close aren’t you, baby? I can feel your pretty little cunt clenching around me, so fucking tight for me even after everything I’ve given you.” And his words only make you tighten even more, your walls clinging to his shaft as you start to reach your peak. You cry out, moaning his name pathetically. All you feel is the warmth from Aki’s cock abusing your sweet spot over and over again, distantly, his voice saying “cum on my cock princess, yeah, that’s my good fucking girl,” and the sound of squelching while Aki fucks your gushing heat through the waves of pleasure. Even when you’re coming down, struggling to breathe, Aki keeps fucking you through the last of the contractions, making you twitch as your poor abused pussy gets overstimulated.

Your heart is racing and you’re entirely fucked out but Aki’s still hard, and more importantly, he’s still inside of you. He’s slowed down though, you’re aware of that much. You’re aware of how only the head of his cock is in your entrance and he’s littering kisses across your collarbone while he waits for you to come back to him.

“Was I too rough on you?” Aki speaks into your skin softly. He sounds almost apologetic, lazily thrusting into your heat while you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“No, s’ good, Aki. Felt so good,” you slur, breath hitching when Aki thrusts a little bit harder into you. “Want you to cum inside me, please Aki,” you pout with whatever sliver of energy you have left, and you’re well aware that he’s waiting for you to give him permission to keep going. As rough as he’s been, and as much as he’s pushed you tonight, you know that if you say you’re too tired, he’ll happily pull off of you and go finish himself off in the bathroom. You don’t want that though. Definitely not tonight.

“Yeah?” Aki nibbles at your throat, breath hot on your skin. “You want me to fill you up?” he asks, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your sensitive clit. He’s pumping into you steadily, and having his cock rubbing up against your g-spot while his fingers play with your small bundle of nerves is just too much. You can feel the heat building rapidly in your belly again and you almost want to sob. “I know, I know, but you’ve done so well, just one more for me,” Aki coos, kissing the wetness leaking out the corners of your eyes, and tells you “I really wanna stuff your princess cunt full of my cum, n’ I know you can take it for me, baby,” while he fucks you steady, urging you even closer than before.

“ Oh, fuck - yes, please, need it so bad,” you whimper, your second orgasm hitting you just as hard as the first. Aki’s words draw it out of you, your gushing pussy clenching around his cock while he groans and fucks into you harder, even rougher than before, pumping you full of thick cum. You love the soft moans he makes, but you love it more when he collapses on top of you, pressing his lips into yours and lazily kissing you while his cock slowly softens inside you. You feel full. And when Aki finally pulls out, still trailing kisses and little bites down your throat, you wince at the feeling of his seed leaking from your puffy entrance. 

You’re an absolute mess, and so is the couch.

“C’mere,” Aki says, tugging you up into a sitting position before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You’re still dazed, and watching Aki move around the room to grab you a towel and some tissues is all too much for you. When he finally sits back down, he’s spreading your legs to wipe away  the sticky mess leaking from between your thighs. “I’ve wanted to do that for years, you know,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry, I kinda went all out tonight after you asked me to, you know- I didn’t know if I’d get the chance-”

You stop him, reaching out to hold his forearm and keep him steady for the first time tonight. You know you need to say it. “I’ve wanted this too, Aki. I mean, that is why I asked if I could blow you,” you laugh. You want him to know the truth, and you want to lighten the tension he’s holding over himself. Your chest clenches when he cracks a rare smile at you. You can't hold yourself back from tugging him into a tight hug, holding him so close that you can feel his heart beating against your own.

Aki’s so pretty. He’s always been so pretty. And now that you know what he tastes like, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop yourself from needing him. Wanting him. They’re the same thing in your world.

Aki sighs and leans in to your touch, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “Shower? I think we both need to clean up a bit, and I promise I won’t try to make you cum again once we’re in there.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you smile. You feel so warm, being held by Aki. Your body feels wrecked but god, it was so worth it.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)

Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine. AO3 CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation

The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach. 

Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror. 

He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you. 

“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”

You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further. 

“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?” 

You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn’t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base. 

This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building. 

***

Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless. 

No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right? 

They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other. 

— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny. 

— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies. 

— How is she? 

— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much. 

— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago. 

— Good thing I found her, aye? 

Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away. 

You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in. 

You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away. 

The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it. 

Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind. 

— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya. 

You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you. 

God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is. 

— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. 

— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners. 

Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound. 

“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“ You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later. 

— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one. 

His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway. 

— Don’t touch me. 

— Can’t help it. You’re pretty. 

You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass. 

Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach. 

It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it. 

— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy. 

— F…fuck you. 

— You will, love. Promise. 

The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room. 

You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again. 

He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen. 

— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock. 

— D…don’t touch me. Please. 

— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up. 

— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…

He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this. 

— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh? 

You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful. 

— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much. 

— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary? 

— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those. 

They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you. 

Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this. 

Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there. 

He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right? 

— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself. 

— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…

It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them. 

— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste. 

— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…

— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it. 

Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used. 

You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue. 

You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit. 

“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?” 

He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals. 

“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”

He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue. 

“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me” 

You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again. 

You feel sick. 

— Fuck. S’ tight for me. 

You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this. 

His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock. 

The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either. 

You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon. 

— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride. 

— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb. 

— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb. 

— I’m…

— It’s alright. We like dumb girls. 

He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm. 

It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild. 

You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent. 

Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist. 

He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling. 

— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today. 

He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing. 

You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.

[sailoryooons]

Obsidian | Preface | Red (myg)

☾ Summary: You've never been able to forget a face. Neither has Min Yoongi. And you both remember the face of the man who ruined your lives.

☾ Word Count: 1,046

☾ Genre: Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut

☾ Rating: Dead Dove. Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence and death, graphic depictions of blood and dismemberment, depiction of stab wounds and being stabbed, feeling of death/on the cusp of death, reference to Yoongi negatively being referred to as a momma's boy, one (1) poisoned and dead fish, death of parents.

☾ A/N: Hi, I am so nervous to be writing this series again and re-doing what I feel like I got wrong the first time. I hope you like the new and what I think is improved version. This preface is much of the same as it's original predecessor, but with a little more consistency in the voice I will use for the rest of the story telling and a little heavier on the experience Yoongi is having. Additionally, the magic system in his has been tweaked from the original, but you will see that in later chapters and as always, I will include the Jewel Caste at the bottom of each chapter.

☾ A/N 2: If you were on the tag list for the original fic and you would like to be removed, please don't hesitate to let me know. I will be going off the same tag list request form I have used the past year, which might include users no longer interested in this story. Please don't worry about messaging me if you want to be removed or alternatively select the removal option on the tag list request form linked below the disclaimer.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Tag List Requests ☾ Series Masterlist ☾ Next Chapter

Min Yoongi dies the same day as his favorite koi fish. 

When he opens the door to his home, the world is awash in red. Red on the tile, red on the carpet. Red on half of his mother’s face - the other half can’t be red because it’s missing. Her jewels are missing too, none of the normal sapphires that glitter on her fingers and ears in their rightful place. 

Red weeps from the ceiling, red spills under the table. Red soaks through Yoongi’s  socks as he stands in the kitchen. He’d left his shoes by the doorway like his mother always asked him, and now they’re red red red. 

At the center of all of that red is his father, head missing. No - maybe not missing. Yoongi’s eyes keep scanning the tableau of crimson until he sees the head of Min Yujun a little ways from his body. Not missing, but not in the right place.  Lights out. No one home. 

Yoongi’s eyes go to his father's hand - he has to look on the other side of the room from his father’s head to do it - looking for the jewels that should be on his fingers. Yujun always has his onyx rings on, perfect gems set into gold bands. Onyx rings, onyx necklaces, onyx bracelets. 

There’s no onyx here. Just more red, dripping from the blunt edge of fingertips recently cut too short. Yoongi diverts his eyes. Seeing the ringless hands of his father is worse than looking at the severed head, the perversity of it turning his stomach. 

Yoongi never hears the man behind him. Doesn’t see it coming until he’s slammed from behind, a wall of radiant energy knocking him forward toward his father’s body - not the head. Yoongi screams as he hits the floor - can’t help it. He rears back, pushing away from the jeweless body, but his hands slip in all that red.

His stomach roils but there’s little time to think as he rolls to the side. He summons the power in the onyx rings on his fingers, feels the vibration as they recognize his call, ready to fight back.

He stops entirely when he sees the face hovering above him, immediately dropping the summoning of his radiant energy. He’s so shocked to see Kim Juwon leaning over him that at first, he doesn’t feel the knife carving out his stomach. 

Yoongi opens his mouth to ask for help finding his dad’s rings, but he’s interrupted by the soft way Juwon says, “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi thinks Juwon means about his parents, maybe. But then white hot pain blooms in his stomach and Yoongi screams, looking down to see the knife pulling down, opening him up. Red red red red. More red. So much red that Yoongi didn’t know he had that much red inside of him. 

Juwon pulls the onyx rings from Yoongi’s fingers. Yoongi tries to pull his hands away from the elder, crying as he tries to keep the red inside. It’s spilling out of him faster than he can keep up with, his panic mounting as Juwon pulls the onyx stones from Yoongi’s ears. Juwon does it gently, as though he’s afraid to hurt Yoongi. Like he doesn’t want to spill more red. 

Yoongi thinks he cries out for his mom. At least he forms the words, and tries to beg for her help. His dad doesn’t have a head to yell at him to stop being a momma's boy, so Yoongi screams for her. Wants her to wake up and crawl over to him and hold him together. To stop the red. 

He’s never been afraid of dying until right now. 

He doesn’t remember Juwon leaving him there, bleeding out and toeing the veil, ready to join his parents on the other side. Yoongi thinks he sees them, thinks he hears them calling to him. But there’s a stronger call, a vibration that pulls at him. That begins to itch. A frequency he can’t let go of. 

Yoongi feels it more than he sees it and he starts slipping across the floor to where a single ring has rolled under the fridge. Juwon wouldn’t have noticed - couldn’t have noticed. Juwon radiates at onyx, never obsidian. 

No one but Min Yujun radiates at obsidian. Or used to. 

But now the obsidian calls to Yoongi and he slides toward it, hand pressed to his stomach, trying to stop the red. His hands are wet and sticky and he gags, feeling something slippery when he presses too hard on the wound. 

The obsidian ring pulses, an invisible force under the fridge. Yoongi slides his hand under, gritting his teeth at the tight fit as he reach reach reaches. Just a little to the left. Almost. Almost. His fingers make contact with the ring and energy explodes through him. 

Yoongi lets out a guttural sound, somewhere between a yell and a gurgle as he lies on the floor, thinking it might be too late. But as the power surges through him, vibrating at a higher frequency than Yoongi has ever known, he realizes his father has left him a single parting gift. 

There on the kitchen floor, Yoongi radiates at obsidian for the first time. Feels his body stitch itself back together, itchy and hot and bothersome. When he’s done, he lays on the floor, sobbing up at the ceiling and trembling, sick and corroded by the powerful gem. 

Hours or minutes pass, he isn’t sure. But when he gets up and sees his home painted red, he decides that Min Yoongi must die here too. 

Sliding the ring on his finger, he stands. He is dripping in more red than he’s ever known, but there is black on his finger, the darkest jewel on the caste and the most dangerous power to wield.

Stepping out of the red-filled home and into the night, he takes a deep breath. Sees his favorite fish turned over in the koi pond, bloated with poison. That fish had been given to him by his mother as a birthday gift, a symbol of perseverance and strength. 

So he takes the name of his favorite fish and walks into the world born anew, leaving the ghost of Min Yoongi behind as Agust takes his place. 

THE JEWEL CASTE

*IN ORDER FROM TOP TO BOTTOM THEN LEFT TO RIGHT OF POWER.

Lights

Opal → Selenite → Diamond  Rose Quartz → Morganite → Kunzite

Mids

Jade → Peridot → Flourite  Jasper → Spinel → Ruby

Darks

Turquoise → Azurite → Sapphire Tourmaline → Jet → Onyx

Corrosives

Emerald → Garnet  → Midnight → Obsidian

TAG LIST:

@astroodledream @myynameisbuckyy @idkjustlovingbts @hobibbb

@codeinebelle @rinkud

[zoesmp4]

STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader

tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9

a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!! 

you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.

it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.

ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.

as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.

"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.

through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.

"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.

however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.

you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.

"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.

"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."

carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.

"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry. 

but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.

"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.

fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.

or so you thought.

BANG!

his stupid fucking finger slipped. 

all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?

your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.

he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.

you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.

your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.

you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?

blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.

now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.

"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.

she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.

the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.

after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.

but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.

daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."

the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.

"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."

it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair. 

"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.

little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser two]

✩ series m.list | taglist form ✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s. ✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort ✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader ✩ word count: 1.4k | [full fic: tbd] ✩ rating: 18+. minors dni. ✩ warnings: a little more pining between husband!hee & wife!reader, a bit of outsider help. nothing explicit ✩ author's note: hello everyone! i just wanted to let you all know that i am trying my best to get this fic out before the end of the year (and if i don't, i do go on winter break from uni in early december! so we can expect a few fics in that time.) this being said, i will add a taglist link here as well as the series masterlist because i cannot for the life of me keep up with urls at the moment. the people tagged below have already been added to said taglist, but if you wanna jump on and don't see yourself tagged, please fill out the form linked above! thanks!

Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 

There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.

You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.

How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.

And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.

And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."

He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 

There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 

Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 

He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 

Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life, and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 

You love him so selflessly.

Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!

You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.

He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 

Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat. "Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?"

"Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes. "Okay."

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

TAGLIST [those in red could not be tagged] @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @bbyjw @marimariiiiiiii @thenastone

[vampyresovereign]

pooka..pooka..!!! do Leona dating HEADCANONS!

*rubs your feet*

your wish is my command pooka doodle... -isa<3

DATING LEONA KINGSCHOLAR HEADCANONS

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Quick Synopsis: just a bunch of general headcanons of what leona would be like in a relationship + little drabbles in between Tags: Use of Y/N, use of "herbivore" nickname, reader is not Yuu, no specific physical description of reader, reader is a Night Raven student

HOW YOU TWO WOULD MEET

From the way the books/vignettes portray him, I'm going to be real and say I see Leona as an introvert, maybe go as far to say he's kind of a shut in. OBVIOUSLY not as much as Idia, but he doesn't really strike me as someone who would be actively looking for love like that (at first.) definitely not the type to do the cliche "locking eyes with object of affection for the first time and just falling head over heels" shtick. to me, it seems like he's just tuning everything out until he eventually graduates, which is why for you to be even considered, you'd have to be a constant, like someone he's always getting partnered with in classes or a mutual friend. sorry guys.. no hallway crushes here.

In all honesty, you were less than ecstatic when Crewel had decided to partner you with your fellow classmate, Leona Kingscholar.

He had never done anything to you personally to give you a negative impression of him, but it was just his demeanor and how he carried himself around the general public. Not speaking in class, you could barely recall his voice, and constantly maintaining that annoyed scowl.. When he was awake.

Did you mention that he had no shame about sleeping in class?

He just.. intimidated you. When it was about time to shift to your station with Leona, you grabbed your things and awkwardly sat down in the chair next to him. He was leaning back on the chair, eyes closed, ears twitching slightly to let you know he sensed your presence.

Whatever little assignment you two had to do would last a week at most, maybe even shorter than that, so Leona was under the impression he wouldn't have to care about you that much.

Little did he know.

-

CONFESSION HEADCANONS

One thing about Leona is that the man has a TRUCKLOAD of pride inside of him. Though, he's not stupid. He watched Falena fall in love with his future wife, he's seen old friends get into relationships. He is no stranger to love. When he realizes he has feelings for you, his first instinct would be to gaslight himself and try to deny it, especially if you were someone smaller or more sensitive than him. He didn't come to Night Raven to fall in love, especially with someone like you. If anything, it should be the other way around (haaah.) It wasn't even his choice to be on campus to begin with. However, the more he thinks about it, the more he tries to ignore it whilst spending time with you, the more unbearable it becomes to keep his feelings bottled up. The first person he confides in is Ruggie, but not with a direct approach. He'd ask him little one off questions, like "What would you do if _______" or "If you had a partner would ________." Ruggie would most definitely be confused at first, wondering why Leona, who was never once interested in romance was suddenly asking for his opinions on the topic, but Ruggie is smart. He'd see you two hanging out frequently, put the pieces together, and absolutely bombard Leona with questions and jokes. Essentially, Ruggie suggests that the only solution to this "annoyance" as Leona puts it, is for him to grow some balls and tell you how he feels himself. That has Leona grumbling. Expressing your feelings means being vulnerable with someone, something Leona would not be caught dead doing. This isn't fair, where did all his confidence go? If he looked at you any longer, he guessed he going to go into cardiac arrest from the way his heart pounded in his ribcage, like a ticking time-bomb.

"Hey, is everything okay? You said you wanted to talk," You exclaimed.

Leona scratched his head, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds before focusing back on you and your concerned expression. This was embarrassing. There were worse things he hadn't hesitated to say to other people before, but asking you out was of course the thing that had him fumbling like an idiot.

"So.. Remember that movie trailer you kept yappin' about?"

"Of course I do, I've wanted to see it for a while."

"Well, you're in luck. I bought us tickets to go see it Friday night, if you want."

Your lips curled into a small smile, and you began to look genuinely excited. "Really? That's actually so cool of you!"

"Mhm. But by us, I mean just us."

You raised an eyebrow. "...Are you asking me out?"

A light red tint painted his cheeks, indicating to you that you had absolutely hit the nail on his intentions.

"Herbivore, do you want to or not?" He quipped, suddenly getting defensive.

"Alright, alright, sure. It's a date."

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ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

After that little movie date, it didn't have to be said, but both of you knew that the feeling was mutual. It wouldn't take long for Leona to start referring to you as his partner, and vice-versa. He wouldn't act much differently than he did when you two were "just friends," but he'd definitely be more territorial, teasing, and affectionate in public. I imagine him to be kind of annoying too, walking up to you with your friends and greeting you by saying some shit like "WSG LIL BRO!" and then proceeding to headlock + give you a noogie in front of them. 😭😭 now.. where did all this sudden energy come from? A few months ago, Ruggie remembered Leona never wanting to get out of bed, avoiding classwork and avoiding people in general if he didn't have to talk to them. But when the two of you start dating, he starts to care a lot more about things he considered insignificant. He suddenly starts to notice how frizzy his hair gets over the course of the day, and brushes it periodically so he'll look good when he meets you after your classes. He puts on a nicer smelling cologne. He starts to take notice of his spending habits. Yeah sure, he's a prince, he got mad money, but at the same time, the numbers are starting to go down because he bought you flowers, expensive jewelry, and more clothes all in one week. He also makes an effort to get to know your friends and interests. It's not like he didn't care much before, but he really likes to listen to your voice and hear you talk. He could do it for hours, falling asleep to it and waking up to it. Speaking of falling asleep, yes cuddling is involved in this relationship. He's lowkey a bad influence. You've gotten in trouble multiple times because you've asked to use the bathroom, using the hall pass as an excuse to roam around in the botanical gardens until you find him. He ALWAYS convinces you to stay with him and take a nap, resulting in you oversleeping and getting detention. But it's aight. Y'all are in detention together. In conclusion, mans is head over heels for you. Screw his head for this sudden vulnerability, and screw you for keeping him around, making him fall deeper everyday.

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO GET THE FUCKING WEIRD SMALL TEXT WITH RANDOM BIG LETTERS GLITCH OFF IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT ITS PISSING ME OFF -isa<3

[mixtape-timeout]

This is the last post I will be making on this topic. Since gimmeurtmi is back and posting again, here is yet another reminder for you that she is a Zionist. She is trying to spin the story and claim that people are witch-hunting her for being Israeli, which is just another excuse to deflect from her disgraceful behavior. Since she wants to say that we are spreading misinformation, please look at the screenshots in the link. These are screenshots of posts SHE made herself. Not my words, just hers. Read her posts without any of my commentary, and come to your own conclusions about her beliefs. Her posts speak for themselves.

((More below))

She can say she's Pro-Palestine all she wants, but her actions do not reflect that. I can't prove if she is attending peace rallies like she says she is, but what we do know is that the things she says and does are in direct contradiction of this. Please look at the tags of the original callout post and see the sheer number of bloggers (including other authors) she had blocked for being Pro-Palestine. She claims she blocked people for being Anti-Semitic, but what she perceives as "Anti-Semitic" is anything Anti-Zionist. The testimonies from people who used to follow her and used to be very close friends with her all say she is a very manipulative person who always makes herself the victim. She has repeatedly made Zionist posts, deleted them, pretended to change her views, post "Pro-Palestine" things, then go back and show her true colors once the accusations blow over. She had reblogged fundraisers for Rafah weeks ago on her blog @stuckonspidey after being called out that are now nowhere to be found. She is a liar and a manipulator who has repeatedly said things that contradict her actions just to save face.

If she's Pro-Palestine, why does she make posts sympathizing with the IDF? Why does she support the occupational force that kills Palestinians for fun, undresses hostages to humiliate them (including CHILDREN), beats hostages to death with hammers in their captivity, disguises themselves as HUMANITARIAN AID to kill hundreds of refugees, takes pictures with hostages/dead bodies and posts them on social media, steals Palestinian women's underwear and takes pictures with it after killing them/ransacking their houses, targets journalists and humanitarian aid workers, straps injured Palestinians to their trucks and uses them as human shields? This is the army that fired 355 bullets at the car that 6 year old Hind Raghab was in while she was surrounded by her dead family members, KNOWING she was in there. They are a depraved, violent occupational force that kills and tortures civilians, and one of the most basic pillars of being Pro-Palestine is opposing the IDF. You cannot be Pro-Palestine and have sympathy for the army that is killing and oppressing them. You cannot say you stand for Palestinian liberation and peace, yet mourn for their oppressors when the resistance fights back. There is proof all over the internet of the IDF's war crimes because they post it themselves. Here are a few links if you don't believe me. LINK LINK LINK LINK. Please research it yourself, too. You'll find no shortage of it.

If she is Pro-Palestine, why does she refuse to acknowledge it as a genocide? Why does she call it a "war"? Why does she call the International Court of Justice's decision to take Israel to court for its war crimes "questionable"? If she believes what Israel is doing is wrong, why would she criticize it being held accountable for its crimes against humanity? If she is Pro-Palestine, why would she call an Israeli propaganda movie that paints Arabs as barbaric savages her all time favorite and complain that it's getting RIGHTFULLY negative reviews for its blatant racism, glorification of war criminal Golda Mier, and historical misinformation? Her excuse was that "she posted about a movie because she likes movies." That is an absolutely pitiful reason and being deliberately obtuse to distract from the actual issue. When you say it like that, of course it sounds harmless, but the CONTENT of the movie matters. For example: Would you call "The Birth of A Nation", a disgustingly racist white supremacy propaganda movie your favorite? Absolutely NOT. And if you did, people would rightfully question you for that. If she's Pro-Palestine, why didn't she boycott LMB when there are two Zionists on it? One of which (Johnny Goldstein) is a former IDF soldier and attends Pro-Israel events? If she's Pro-Palestine, why would she use the well-known Zionist talking points, conflating Judaism with Zionism, and saying that when people say "Zionist" they really mean "Jew"? If She's Pro-Palestine, why would she have such an issue with Stays trying to inform Felix about the Coca-Cola boycott and say they are bullies? Do you notice a pattern here? Her labeling ANY attempts at calling out Zionism to be "bullying" or "Anti-Semitic"? This is the exact rhetoric Zionists use. Once again, she can say she's Pro-Palestine, she might even actually believe that she is, but her behavior does not reflect this. Saying "My posts aren't Anti-Palestinian because I'm not Anti-Palestinian" proves absolutely nothing. Someone who can't even call the genocide a genocide is not an ally to Palestine.

She continues to hide behind "Anti-Semitism" despite me and many of my friends who called her out being Jews or of Jewish ancestry ourselves. If you look through my blog, you will see a majority of my posts are dedicated to dismantling the idea that Jews = Zionists. I have worked so hard in my community to do this in real life, and it's incredibly frustrating to see her perpetuating this harmful stereotype when us Anti-Zionist Jews are doing everything we can to separate Judaism from Zionism. She is also saying we are racist against Israelis, which is an absolutely ludicrous claim. Israeli is not a race, just like American isn't a race. Israeli is a Nationality. 75% of Jewish people are Ashkenazim, meaning European/White, and about 50% of Israelis are White. Nationality =/= Race. Her claims of racism are, again, her using terms of discrimination to distract from her blatantly Zionist posts.

Furthermore the claim that we are attacking her simply for being Israeli is not only wrong, it makes no sense. I was not aware that she was Israeli before suspecting her of being a Zionist. A huge chunk of Zionists are actually Western Christians who support Israel for Anti-Semitic reasons, and I would NEVER sabotage a fellow Jew for their identity. I went out of my way to emphasize this in the first post. Gimmeurtmi was called out for Zionism that me and several other people in the community recognized, point blank period. We are not "painting her in a specific light", we are bringing attention to harmful, dangerous things SHE said. If I presented her posts to you without commentary, even in context, you could come to the same conclusion. The original callout post was edited many times with many additions as new screenshots/information came forward, and it was through the comments from other people talking about their experience with her that we found out that she was Israeli and had made those Anti-Palestinian posts on October 7th (which she deleted). It was her thinly-veiled Zionism that originally raised our suspicions, the knowledge that she's Israeli came after.

I know gimmeurtmi will continue to see herself as a victim no matter what. I know she will keep pretending she's being attacked for her identity just as all Zionists do. This post is just to disprove her accusations that we called her out on the basis of "racism", when the callout for her was a result of HER racism herself. I never had any problem with gimmeurtmi before she blocked me, I enjoyed her fics and looked up to her, as many others in the community did. She gave me no reason to dislike her before this. The only reason my friends and I put that post together was because we felt it was imperative that someone like her, who uses her SKZ blog to normalize Zionist ideology amidst a genocide, gets de-platformed. I cannot tell you what to believe, but I urge you to be careful and understand what a manipulative person she is. I urge you to read the screenshots of her posts for yourself and come to your own conclusion.