#but i was very responsible about it and all clean

[angelcent]

lazy late rainy night sex with satoru. you’ve been in bed for hours, all cozy in your sweats with the laptop propped in between you while you watched trashy reality tv shows.

he's spooning you so innocently at first, the warmth of him behind you familiar and inviting. it happens slowly and leisurely, with him absently rubbing his hand over your belly for a while before dipping underneath your big shirt (his) and roaming up to play with your tits. the pleasure is a warm buzz beneath your skin.

you both continue watching and you don’t even notice your ass beginning to grind lightly and slowly over his groin. you know he notices when he responds by giving your nipples little pinches and tugs. he starts to slowly grind his soft cock over you until he hardens and by then you’re looking back to kiss him deeply.

the rain continues to thump against the roof and the only source of light in the bedroom is the glow of the laptop. but you two don’t pay it any mind, not when you're reach your hand behind to pull his cock out of his sweats as he starts to finger your cunt. this isn’t meant to be long and you're not speaking to one another; only needy moans and whines escaping your lips.

you blindly give his cock a few pumps before you’re leading it towards your pussy. by now, the fluffy blanket over you is now entangled between your limbs haphazardly and the laptop dangerously close to falling off the edge. but all you can do is lift your leg and take in his big dick to the sounds of a midnight storm.

satoru fucks you deep and slow, and his mind spinning at how tight your cunt is. you haven't done much, he only sees you in profile from the dark bedroom, and you’re half dressed, but he’s so turned on. he wants nothing more than to make you sing for him.

you’re the one for him.

he couldn't imagine doing this with anyone on a dreary rainy night—only you. forever, always, you.

he pumps his hips faster into you, the sounds of his dick going raw into your pussy urging him to trail his fingers up your body, slipping them into your bitten-red lips. you moan around his long digits, tasting your wet cunt and instinctively sucking; and take him like a sweet princess. his princess.

your bodies know each other so well, the very marrow of you understood that this is what you needed.

the pitter-patter of the rain gets a little fuzzy in your mind when all you can think about is getting fuckedmby that thick cock of his, feeling it stretch out your little pussy until he comes inside of you. distantly, you also think about how comforting it is that you're both safe and warm in your shared place.

“f-fuck,” satoru curses softly in your ear, feeling your cunt tighten him around him. he's close. “'m gonna come, baby. you’re gonna take my come, yeah? fuck. yeah you will.”

you nod eagerly in response, whimpering at his words. his voice was quiet in the dark room, rough and aroused right by your ear.

“that’s it, squeeze me just like that. fuck. fuck. good girl—shit. yes baby, gag on my fingers while I fill you up. fuck—“

tears ran down your face as he gagged you before suddenly pulling his fingers out as he came. hot and sticky, you came right after he did. right when he’s riding it out and fucking his come back into your pussy and sucking a bruise into your exposed neck.

the laptops been quiet for a while now, so all that’s audible in the room is the sounds of the rain and you two catching your breath. you wince when you feel him slip his softening cock out of you and his come begins to run sideways on your thighs. and while you’re completely fucked out, giddy, and ready to knock out, you had to be responsible.

“let’s go clean up,” you say, pulling your shirt down. “satoru, c’mon. don’t pretend to slee—“

“noooooooooo.”

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Sweet Like Honey - Chan

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: husband! Chan x fem! reader

summary: As if meeting your husband for the first time at the altar wasn't nerve-wracking enough, now you two are on your tropical island honeymoon and you still haven't told him you're a virgin!

warnings: fluff, virgin reader, heavy kissing, cunnilingus, beach sex, insecure reader, soft Chan

Chan sleeps peacefully for a while longer before finally stirring, his eyelids fluttering open. As he sits up, he rubs his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of his nap. His gaze falls upon his new wife, sitting nervously in a beach chair. “Hmm, you're still here.”

You turn your attention from the ocean waves to Chan’s face, giving him a curious look. “Did you think I'd run away?”

“I was half expecting you to.” He chuckles, his voice gruff from sleep. “Considering we barely know each other, and the fact that this was all arranged.” He shrugs. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

You let out a long sigh of relief. “That's good.” You whisper as you turn your attention back to the sand, mindlessly drawing different shapes and patterns with your finger.

Chan watches you for a moment, studying your profile. He finds himself intrigued by your quiet demeanor and the way your fingers move absently in the sand. After a while, he speaks up again, his voice softer this time. “You know, we should probably talk about some things.”

Your shoulders tense as he speaks but you keep your face turned away from him. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that I’m a bit of a workaholic.” He grimaces. “And I snore when I sleep on my back.” He ticks off his fingers as he lists his quirks. “And I’m a bit of a clean freak.”

You chuckle softly, your shoulders already falling a bit as you begin to relax more and more by the second. “Well, I can be a tad messy at times,” you confess, “and I don't eat very well.”

Chan smiles at your response. “Okay, fair enough.” He pauses for a moment before broaching the subject he’s most nervous about. “And how about...physical matters?” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Have you ever...?” his voice trails off but his honest eyes tell you what he's thinking without saying it. 

You shake your head slowly. Something squeezing your heart as you try to get the words out. “I've never had sex.”

His eyes widen slightly at your confession, a flicker of surprise and something else - perhaps understanding or even a touch of nervousness - crossing his face. He takes a deep breath before responding. “I see. Well, that's...okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I'm not ashamed.” You respond quickly. And that was true. You had never been ashamed of waiting until your wedding day. But now that the day has finally arrived… “I'm just nervous.”

He nods, his expression gentle. “I understand. It's natural to be nervous about something so...intimate.” He sits up a bit straighter, his arms wrapping around his knees as he looks out at the ocean. “We can take things slow, okay? There’s no rush.”

You turn your body towards Chan. You were desperate to look into his eyes and search for any hint of malice or deception. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He turns to look at you again, his dark brown eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “I absolutely mean that.” He reaches out to gently take one of your hands in his. “This marriage may be arranged, but that doesn't mean we can't build something real together.”

Your heart swells at Chan's words. The honesty within them coats you like a warmth you had never felt before. Before you could catch yourself, you start to move towards him, your mouths just inches from one another. His breath hitches as you lean in, his heart pounding in his chest. The air between the two of you seems to still, the only sound is the distant rhythm of the ocean waves. Gently, he closes the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, exploratory kiss.

The first kiss you shared was at the altar when you said “I do.” It was so formal and uniform. But this kiss was different, more intimate. Like it was leading somewhere new. Chan deepens the kiss slowly, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch is gentle yet firm, coaxing you to open up to him. As the kiss becomes more passionate, he pulls you closer, so that you're sitting on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck. Soon your hands move from his neck to his hair, letting your fingers tangle and comb through the dark locks. Your hips start to grind and move involuntarily against his lap. He breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist, stilling your hips with a low chuckle. "Easy there, sweetheart," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck. He nips gently at your neck, soothing the sting with another soft kiss. His hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine through the light fabric of your nightgown. His voice is low and gruff as he speaks against your skin. “We should…”

“Yeah…?” You mumble against his neck.

“Go inside...” He trails off as your hips move against him once more, his body instinctively reacting to the innocent gesture. He groans, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder. “Before this goes too far on the beach.” He pulls back to look at you, his pupils dilated with desire.

You turn your head to either side, scanning the now deserted beach. The moon is now the only source of light for miles around. “Well, there isn't anyone else here.” You smirk. Your eyes were full and hopeful that Chan would get the hint. The sight of your king sized bed in that luxury suite was almost too much to bear. The thought of “performing” for the first time in a bed felt like too much pressure. But the beach…

He lets out a low laugh, his body shaking slightly beneath yours. He captures your lips in another deep kiss, his hands slipping down to your backside, squeezing gently. As the kiss deepens, he lays you back against the sand, covering your body with his own. You let out a soft whimper as your still shaking hands move across Chan’s broad chest. He captures your wandering hands in one of his own, bringing them up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. His other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the edge of your nightgown. "We can stop at any time," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours.

You take a deep breath. Your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes as the two of you breathe in unison for a moment. “I trust you.” You murmur.

Chan smiles softly at your words, a genuine warmth in his eyes. Slowly, he tugs at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head. He takes a moment to admire your form in the moonlight, his hands skimming reverently over your dips and curves. “Beautiful.”

Your face turns a deep shade of red as Chan’s eyes roam over your naked form. Your hands move to cover your face almost reflexively.

"Don't," he says softly, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Don’t hide from me, my love. You’re absolutely beautiful.” He leans down to capture one of your rosy peaks in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud. Your back lifts up and off the sand at the new sensation. Your legs already begin to spread apart from the heat that is growing. He lavishes attention on your breasts, alternating between soft suckles and gentle nips. His hand trails down your stomach, fingers splaying across your lower abdomen. He kisses a path down your body, his destination clear as he settles between your thighs. "I want to taste you,”

You bite your lip and nod your head softly. “No one has ever…”

Chan looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire and tenderness. "Then let me be the first, and the last." He dips his head, his tongue parting your folds in a slow, deliberate lick. He groans at your taste, the sound vibrating against your most sensitive flesh. He takes his time exploring you with his mouth, learning every inch of you, committing your responses to memory. He focuses on your clit, circling the bud with the tip of his tongue before suckling gently. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he pleasures you.

Your head falls back and presses into the sand beneath you. Your moans mix and mingle with the sounds of the waves crashing. He continues his sensual assault, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue. He can feel you tensing, your thighs beginning to quake around his head. He doubles his efforts, determined to bring you to your peak. “That's it, my love…”

Your hips move in a new and unexplored rhythm against Chan's face as you work to ride out your orgasm. He holds you steady as you ride out your high, his tongue lapping up your release. He gentles his touch as you come down, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs. He crawls up your body, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He lets out a low groan as your heat presses against the hard ridge of his arousal still confined in his pants. He reaches between your bodies to unfasten his pants, shoving them down his hips. He lifts your hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He captures your gaze, his eyes seeking yours.

Everything stopped for a moment. Even the waves seemed to silence. Like the entire world was waiting to see what you would do next. The sand still felt warm beneath your head and the towel brushed against your skin as you opened your legs wider. An open invitation for Chan to take you to that new place. For him to be your first and your last. With a gentle yet firm thrust, he buries himself inside you, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being completely inside you. Then he begins to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Mine.”

You lie still at first, your entire body unsure of what was going to happen next. But the familiar sensation of pleasure washed over you again. The waves crashed against the sand again. Chan kisses you tenderly, his touch becoming slow and languid. He takes his time, his hands caressing your body as he moves inside of you with slow, deep thrusts. Two souls once separate we're becoming one. The cool air danced around you as the two of you, bathed in moonlight, found a new home within each other.

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[as-if-and-only-if]

the thing that I've got to say is that it really is ethically straightforward that you should vote Harris.

it's not even a trolley problem, it's a trolley triviality. I don't want to use the meme because it seems disrespectful to use those specific images of MS paint people when these are real lives we're talking about.

The analogy itself is serious, though. it looks like this:

the track diverges at the lever; many people are on lower track, while no one is on the upper track. then: the tracks re-converge and continue, and there are people on the track after that convergence.

The point is that the lever—the vote—can be used to prevent those lives on the lower track from being lost, but cannot save the lives lost after the re-convergence.

it differs from the classic trolley problem in an extremely important way: there isn't anyone on the upper track. as such, it's not a question of "who do we save?"—it's only a question of "do we save the people we can?"

(I need to emphasize, because many on this site have long shed the shackles of reading comprehension, that this does not mean that no one dies as a consequence of U.S. or presidential policy choices in a vacuum. It means that your vote cannot prevent that, but your vote can prevent strictly more people from dying, with no trolley-problem type tradeoff of "who do we choose to die".)

~~~~~

you might think that this is abstracting away too much of the real situation—but it turns out it's ironclad.

to see that it is, and reconcile it with reality, we have to ask: what is not modeled by this analogy? where might it fail?

this amounts to asking the question: is there a benefit to killing the people on the lower track that makes doing so "worth it"?

that is: what justification might you have for saying "yes, we actually need to let those lives on the lower track, the ones we could save with the lever, be lost"?

and the answer—as you might have guessed—is that there is no such justification. no peculiar fact about voting means that you should let those people die.

~~~~~

so why do some people—very passionately—insist that not voting is right? I'll survey a few of the most common attempted justifications I've seen, such as:

"I'm not going to vote for less genocide." This is obviously equivalent to "I am totally fine with more genocide!", a truly horrific stance, and yet I have seen it nearly verbatim from so-called "leftists" a few times. My guess is that this usually stems from a kind of perceived moral contamination: a feeling that a "vote for" a candidate is a moral alignment. This is artificial; not real; not consequential. A vote only makes you responsible for the difference between the two tracks while they diverge. Touching the lever doesn't make you responsible for the track. Choosing between these two outcomes is all voting can do—and because voting for most is easy, and doesn't stop you from doing anything else, there are no trade-offs. No "I'm not at the lever, because I had to work on another way." (If your vote is suppressed, that's another story—but this doesn't imply a general anti-voting stance.)

Ironically, some who aren't voting feel they are "keeping their hands clean", when they are in fact actively increasing the chance of more death and suffering. This is kind of the definition of getting your hands "dirty"; it just doesn't feel like it because they're not touching a voting machine, which is kind of just magical thinking. it's not a point not made frequently enough, I think: what some think of as "doing the right thing" here is very much doing the wrong thing, with respect to their own underlying values of right and wrong, and with respect to what they say they care about. those who claim to have the moral high ground by not voting do not actually have it at all.

On that note, some people (fewer, though) seem to think that touching the lever does make you responsible for the track in a real outcome-based way. That somehow, voting lends "legitimacy" to the track, and that by not voting, we are maybe creating a future with no people on tracks. This is just not true; a dangerous fantasy that asks you to sit back and wait for a utopia that's not coming. There are enough voters in this upcoming election that that institution is not going anywhere anytime soon; you'd need a coordinated movement of not voting plus plans for what to do after the state has lost legitimacy, and that is just...obviously not here. To think otherwise is to live in that fantasy, and so to abandon ethical thinking at all, as ethics comes first from a confrontation with reality. you cannot act ethically without acting practically. However: the margins are thin enough that a few people deciding to vote (who wouldn't otherwise) could actually change the outcome. You can actually save the people on the lower track.

Some people think that the tracks never separate at all, or that the same people are on each, or that one way or another, Harris and Trump are "the same". If you think this, please look beyond tumblr "leftists" for facts here. You've been bombarded with all and only all the bad stuff about Harris (not arguing with most of that—though there are misconceptions, e.g. that Biden/Harris provided no protections for trans people); but you haven't seen how much worse Trump is on every single one of those cases, issue for issue, including Gaza. If you think Gaza can't get any worse, you've essentially written everyone still alive there off for dead. Likewise for any group who would suffer more under Trump. Needless to say—don't do that. The comparison—the difference between the diverging tracks—is all that ethically matters when deciding whether to flip the lever or leave it alone.

Some people think voting is primarily "speech", a means to communicate (or worse, merely express), and probably do not realize that this means they think the outcome of "sending a message" (which would do nearly nothing in real terms) is worth killing the people on the lower track.

Similarly, some people think that it's meaningful to "punish" Harris or the dems. (Truly, putting punishment over the cost in lives and suffering is the most horribly american thing to do here.) Some people just want the feeling of punishment, of blame; some people try to excuse their actions in advance ("well, if the dems lose, it will be their fault"), conveniently omitting their own agency in voting, and thus excusing them from the practice of acting ethically at all. Some people think that punishing the dems will actually push them left in the future, to which I say: you don't have a good reason to think this at all, based on history. Parties go where the winning is. And if you do still have a hunch to the contrary, I am sure you don't have a good reason to be reasonably certain of it. This means that you are paying for a gamble, a mere chance, one unsupported by fact, with the lives on the lower track. You can find another way.

~~~~~

Let's be concrete for a moment.

Since this is about difference, let me gesture to a few obvious differences between Trump and Harris: LGBTQ+ rights, Gaza, climate change, mass deportation of illegal immigrants, education, voting rights (and, yes, democracy), the economy, housing, the long-term future success of leftist movements and activism (much more difficult under Trump, who, no joke, has said neatly verbatim he wants to use the national guard and military to handle the leftist "enemy from within", and who can now do so thanks to the supreme court's ruling on presidential powers), everything Lina Khan and Deb Haaland are doing, etc.

And before you respond with something bad the dems or Harris are doing with respect to one of these—I know. Now compare it to Trump on the same issue. That is the only thing relevant to acting ethically in this brutal, tightly-constrained situation.

For example: Harris doesn't want to ban fracking or reduce oil consumption (bad), but wants to fund renewables, stay in the Paris agreement, strengthen climate initiatives in general.

Trump wants to completely gut funding for renewable energy, withdraw from the Paris accords, dramatically increase oil consumption, commercialize NOAA, weaken the EPA, and so on.

We don't get neither. A vote for none is a vote for "worse is fine by me". We are handed the terrible task of making one of these work, and any person actually, practically concerned with that would choose to try to make the Harris version work then spend precious resources fighting the overwhelming tide of the Trump version.

Only someone who does not actually care about these issues is okay with letting Trump in.

Unless you are capable only of black-and-white thinking, unless you can write off the lives in the difference and convince yourself this is ethical, you can see that letting Trump in only lets more lives be lost, and does not reduce anyone's suffering. No trolley "problem". No trade-off.

Voting Harris is not moral alignment. It's not unconditional support. It is maybe the most conditional action you can take: there are only two real outcomes. One not only has more people, as in a trolley problem, but also results in the death and suffering that would result otherwise.

~~~~~

So there it is, spelled out in the most painstaking detail I'm willing to give to a tumblr post: a few of the failure modes of reasoning that lead to not voting. Often simplicity is too simple, a meaningful departure from reality, but in this case the opposite is true: the simple argument

There are two possible outcomes: one of them eases no one's suffering and creates a great deal more. Therefore choose the other, instead of allowing the worse one to come to pass.

—stands up ethically in this case to every sublimation of righteous anger into misguided action.

And I am not using "righteous" sarcastically: it is right to denounce the Biden/Harris admin on Gaza, it is right to denounce the dems on not doing enough for climate change, etc. But that is not the question being asked by your vote. Do not give the right answer to the wrong question.

The question is only: Harris or Trump? Which outcome should happen, now, in the real world, when it's one of exactly two, when "neither" really, truly isn't an option?

If you do not vote, what will your answer be to the people on the lower track? I am sorry; I dreamt nobly, of no track, no lashings at all. No, I was not kept from the lever. It did not even compromise my dream to push it. Still, I just couldn't bear to touch it; still, you had to die, to save me this discomfort.

acting ethically does not always feel righteous. it is not always a release valve for righteous anger. it does not always feel like progress; sometimes it is only the prevention of catastrophe. it is still ethical. it is still necessary. vote Harris. vote to save the people you can.

[k0yaz]

hollow.

Pairings: furina x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, vampire au, girls kissing oh no, crackfic(?), wlw, graphic mentions of violence, beginning is very up to interpretation, blood, furina being so adorable im gonna cry, macaroni :3, I made it super short bc I lost motivation since its past the deadline 💔, kinda a plot twist at the end, not proofread.

A/N: FURINAAAAAA AWAWAAAWAWA oh yeah uhm sorry about this being late but part of @edgeray ‘s Halloween event! 🕯️

All surrounding you was nothing but an endless void caging in around you, enveloping your mind as you found yourself stumbling backward. Eyes heavy, your pupils rolled back upon feeling the thick showers of rain trickle down your freezing skin, floods of endless water streams washing over the vicinity in endless pattering. It was quite evident that this time of day, especially in such blinding conditions was unsafe for many. Especially humans such as yourself who wandered mindlessly in the wild, carelessly allowing the scent of your blood to waver wherever you traveled.

The last sight that caught your eye as you stumbled back was a quick glimpse of the blackened sky adorned with dark tufts of clouds, flashes of lightning ripping through the air in sudden bursts while you squinted your eyes at the sudden shred of light flooding your sight in the blinding darkness. Your soaked clothing stuck to your skin, sending shivers through your body as the cold cloth adhered against your exposed self. Each shower of rain descending down as the gray clouds parted only seemed like a warning sign from the gods themselves, casting down an inescapable storm that would leave you vulnerable for the inhuman nightmares roaming the area to tear to shreds.

You honestly didn’t even know why you were out. The shivers racking your body paired with the purple-ish tint faintly dusted along your skin from the stinging freeze was enough to encourage you to head home. Yet, something within you screamed at every fiber in your body. Every inch of you continued to trudge forward against the force of the winds pushing against you, knowing you can’t head back home. You couldn’t head back, or you would be dead. Not even given the courtesy of being buried or having your body kept intact. Rather, you’d be reduced to an unrecognizable pulp, beaten down ruthlessly until blood painted the ground you lay on.

The mere thought of your body not being able to rest after death—possibly worse—only made you hunch inward at the disgusting fate, face dropping in pure terror. Howls of wind continued to rustle against your ears repeatedly as you bit down on your bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to try and warm up the blue tinged flesh dragged between your teeth. You hissed in a sharp breath of pain as the see though nature of your clean white shirt only exposed the splatter of blood soaking through the white cloth of your shoulder and trickling down your arm. How much longer could you handle? How much longer could you endure the bites of cold air poisoning you from the inside out as you only grew more and more exhausted from the sting.

The answer was not long. A sudden gasp escaped your lips as your knees buckled inward, causing you to release your lower lip from your teeth as a shock response to the numbness seeping through your body slowly. You sucked in a breath as you knelt down, brows knitting together in pain as your free hand served to shield the damp blood seeping through the deep wound in your shoulder. Heavy breathing rang in your ears, albeit quite loudly considering it was your own breathing emanating from your hoarse throat as your surroundings grew blurry—the stench of your fresh blood which was evidently piling up in the clearing as it stung your sensitive nostrils only serving to make you more lightheaded.

Quick rushes of a shadowy figure filled the frame of your vision, its movements being quiet and discreet as the rushes of rain only served to cloak any possible sound it could potentially produce. Its dashes back and forth only displayed in afterimages for under a millisecond as its speed only served to blind you further, making you question your sanity and whether you were hallucinating this figure. You couldn’t think long, your eyelids began to droop as you grew light from the cold engulfing you, along with the loss of blood growing exponentially and spinning your surroundings like a globe.

Thud.

Of course. It wasn’t long before your body rocked forward, slamming against the ground as blood pooled below you and patched the once spotless cloth of your shirt stuck to your skin a deep crimson. The grass below you steeled red as the tip of each green blade had a thick red gradient brushed along it. You guess that this was perhaps the end of your story. Succumbing to the cold and your wounds was the fate life had in store for you. And just like that—you relaxed yourself against the grass, rainwater thudding against the back of your limp frame sprawled out against the ground.

…

That was until your eyes shot open.

Blinking open your eyes, you found yourself weighed down by a thick blanket spread out over you, sinking you down into the mattress until your chest. The dim, golden light briefly provided a faint light to the vicinity you had awoken in, your bleary vision beginning to focus little by little as you scanned the room. A sudden surge of pain shot through your shoulder as you finally regained most of your consciousness, stinging further at sunken wound gashed onto your arm. Eyes wide, you ripped off the blanket cloaking your arm, your expression growing perplexed at the sight of your burning shoulder carefully wrapped in slightly crumpled bandages.

You breathed out a huff upon feeling a strange itch located above your collarbone, being unable to recall whether you had an injury there or not while you were in the rain. Gentle flickers of warm air rejuvenated your freezing muscles, easing the tension piled up within you. The candle flickering beside you somehow provided a flaring amount of heat for you to be able to move around normally without the hypothermic chill dragging down your body.

Two small indents were imprinted onto your throat, harboring that same itch which was bothering you from the moment you woke up. You swore those deep, tiny holes weren’t there before, raising your suspicion—and distress to a higher degree. You couldn’t help but also wonder the source of the marks on your neck, with the deep nature, along with the way both holes were a convenient distance from each other…it unmistakably resembled a bite. A bite resulting from a pair of fangs maliciously sunken into flesh, desperate for a taste.

Yet despite your conclusion, you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the creature that could’ve attacked you before you were nursed back to health in wherever the hell you were now. Scanning the room, you swallowed back your uncertainty, carefully peeling off the blankets draped over you before hovering your feet over the creaky wooden floors. You set one foot down very slowly, flinching a bit upon hearing the hollow creak of the floorboards ring throughout the vicinity.

Each ghastly ring of the floorboards pressured under your heels with every subsequent step against the floor shrouded your thoughts in a lake of uncertainty, the current sensation of utter trepidation clouding your mind as you wandered aimlessly through the perplexing twists of the hallway. Drops of wax pooled beneath the abundant candles in a small heap, dribbling down the edges they resided upon occasionally along the deep stone of the walls.

Swift afterimages of a cloaked figure mysteriously flicked back and forth in the field of your periphery, your hand instantly darting up to shield your palm along your exposed 'wound.' Swallowing back a heavy lump sunken in your throat, paranoia flooded your senses at the sight of the dark figure which had just swiftly vanished, your gaze flickering to every spotting and corner of the peculiar residence.

"Ah..you're out of bed? I thought your injuries were too awful to even move. Sorry about that, ma’am.”

The sudden feminine voice alerted you in mere moments, heart nearly jumping out of your chest from the wave of shock that overtook every fiber of your body in that instant. You spun around, being met with the perplexed expression of an alluring woman stood before you. Fluffed white hair brushed with blue streaks striped along her hair, complimenting her mismatched azure eyes. Her arms remained folded over her chest firmly as her gaze roamed over you from head to toe, lips pursed together upon it being unclear of whether you were truly well or not. The woman parted her lips to speak, before immediately curling her lip between her teeth to bite back her voice.

Drips of stray water leaked from the crevices of the ceiling, lining along the cobwebs as they dribbled down onto the floor to briefly remedy the silence. The dampening atmosphere surrounding you and the exotic being stood before you tensed your muscles, a smoke of uncertainty circling the two of you as a sort of supernatural force seemed to radiate around her, uneasiness wavering within you in the deafening silence.

“This..is awkward? Where’s the ‘thank you for saving my life?’ I just stopped you from dying and getting potentially mauled out there!” She exclaimed as a breaker, your head shooting up and growing alert to the conversation she had attempted to initiate. “Ah…right. Thank you.” You murmured awkwardly, palm still cupped over the marks slit into your throat. She delivered an over dramatic bow in return, a smug expression scribbled onto her face as she bared her fangs in a grin.

Wait…fangs?

Pausing briefly, you hovered a finger upward, slowly pointing toward her teeth. Indicating the curved ridges protruding from the corners of her teeth, you slithered your tongue to the roof of your mouth cautiously, slowly lowering your hand shielding the bite mark to observe your neck.

It almost identically mirrored the sharpened ends of her fangs.

You drew in a breath, attempting to keep your quivering voice steady as you firmly articulated your concerns before her. “Were you the one who did this..?” You inquired carefully, exposing your neck and allowing the faint lighting to add a reflective luminance against the dried out hollow wounds. She paused, grin immediately shifting to a rather hushed expression as her breath caught in her throat upon the revelation of her feeding on you. Almost in an instant, she defensively snapped back in an argumentative manner.

“Hey! Be glad it wasn’t that it wasn’t some other vampire that found you all sprawled out! I was just thirsty but I treated it after! Anyone else would’ve put you in a stove by now!”

“I’m not upset, calm down…I just wanted to know.” You responded, slightly being put at ease by her anecdote of nursing you back to health in critical condition. It was understandable as to why she’d feed on you, as you had noted behaviors of vampires from what others had told you. Typically, they’re unable to resist the minute they see even a hint of scarlet running along a human’s skin, the most frequent outcome being someone’s mangled body being discovered eventually.

However, this particular vampire didn’t seem to show any of the insatiable hunger emitted off others, and not too interested in hogging all of your blood to herself, merely a sip to quench her thirst. You stood upright and gently grazed your finger along her knuckles, freehand cupped below her wrist to gently push it up.

“You’re being genuine in the fact that you saved me?” You questioned, eyes fixated on her teardrop shaped pupils for any trace of deception. Yet they harbored none. She nodded bashfully, a faint pout contorting her features as well.

“Why would I even go as far as making macaroni for you if I didn’t..?”

“You made macaroni for me?”

“…it was literally on your bedside table are you BLIND?”

Her outburst caught you off guard, yet you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you upon seeing her swiftly whip her gaze away in a faux frustrated fashion. You smiled, taking her hand in yours and causing her to part her lips in surprise.

“Fine..just, come up with me, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly at first, but began to trail directly behind you as you renavigated your path to the room you were in. Raising your eyebrows as you turned around to face her, your hand rested on the doorknob, refraining from clicking open the door in that moment as you spoke up.

“Thank you for saving me, Furina.”

A ghastly quietness buzzed around the two of you, stunning ‘Furina’ into shock, eyes wide as her gaze remained locked onto you. She paused, confusion currently occupying her mind as it made her head fuzzy from the thickness of perplexion overtaking her. Swallowing nervously, she sharpened her tone towards you, eyelids lowering cautiously.

“How do you know my name..? I’ve never told you.”

A/N: im very sorry that I’ve been ending fics on cliffhangers/lazy writing like this bc I really need to focus on school and I’m trying to get these done in a time crunch along with the assignments in the window of time that I actually have to work on them so I’m sorry but I promise when I have free time I will definitely not slack on my fics like I did this one cause I just threw in a shock factor plot twist ending 💔

anyway did u know that I name all fics in my drafts something very interesting before actually coming up with a title just like sprites in game files so this one was named ‘I’m gonna cover myself in garlic everywhere except my kitty’ and holy shit why did I name it that.

[saintsenara]

Some will say that where there's beef there's sexual tension. Let's hear it for Sirius/Molly?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

now, obviously, the easy way round this pairing is to make it a sort of hate-sex thing, in which molly and sirius fire themselves up for a night of passion by arguing over who's right about harry.

the easy-and-also-degenerate way round it is to connect it to sirius' - well, let's just say - complicated relationship with his mother...

but a hill i'll die on is that this fandom really overestimates the tension between molly and sirius in order of the phoenix [and also, to be quite frank, ignores that neither she nor sirius is completely in the right or completely in the wrong, which is why their beef is so juicy in the first place].

and so the fandom ends up overlooking the fact that their relationship can actually be explored really interestingly without the idea that they hate each other.

while we know that molly conducts missions for the order, her primary role in the period 1995-1998 is a domestic one. she's the person who's responsible for things like making grimmauld place habitable and feeding the collected members of the order. the importance of domestic and caring work within resistance organisations is really overlooked - because of misogyny! - but it's something which is absolutely vital to those organisations being able to carry out their aims. the revolution is not hungry.

and the series does actually show us this - even if unintentionally. order meetings frequently take place in the kitchen around mealtimes. the domestic spaces of grimmauld place and the burrow serve not only as organisational bases but also as centres of support and community for order members [tonks coming round to see molly for tea and sympathy; lupin being asked to christmas at the burrow; snape's refusal to eat with the order being considered further evidence that his loyalties are not really with dumbledore, and so on]. the difficulty molly has with bringing grimmauld place under control also serves as a metaphor for the order's struggle against voldemort.

which brings us to sirius during order of the phoenix.

one of the things i think is often overlooked when we think about sirius' depression and feelings of uselessness while he's confined to grimmauld place is that these stem from him holding the belief that the only viable way of helping the war effort is to take a combat role.

which is to say, the adult sirius is reckless, but his recklessness isn't, as is sometimes asserted, caused by carelessness or stupidity - he's an observant, precise, intelligent man.

it's caused by the fact that he can only see value in being someone who fights, who's out and about, and who's putting himself at risk for the cause. he's unable to consider himself useful to the order outside of that context - which is why he chafes so much against the idea that staying in the house and remaining safe is crucial work, not only in that the fact of him living protects harry, but because domestic labour is worthy and fulfilling and revolutionary in and of itself.

you can do so much with the idea that - once the kids are back at school - the only people rattling around grimmauld place all day every day are molly and sirius, and that she spends her time trying to chivvy him into recognising that the housework she'd quite like his help with is really the only thing holding the rag-tag order together. he's not going to give a shit at first, but he can learn...

and food and clean clothes and swept hearths exist on the other side of a coin marked love, don't they?

[urarakasgff]

girls like girls | uraraka x f! reader

Hey everyone! This is a Urarka x fem reader. There is no use of names besides hers, and no descriptions besides that this is a girlxgirl fic. This is my first ever fanfic and it's not proofread, so please keep that in mind!

Intro:

It was a winter night, Uraraka and you had been spending the whole night gossiping, watching movies, eating snacks, and just enjoying one another’s company. You both had been friends since the very first day of going to UA, and you guys were inseparable. It was to the point if either one of you were missing during class, Mr. Aizawa or All Might would ask where the other one was. You guys were that close.

Fortunately, you guys also both live in a dorm together, sharing the communal duties, like cleaning and cooking (even though she was definitely the better cook). You guys were beyond comfortable with one another, there were no secrets, nothing. 

The only small issue was, you had a giant crush on your best friend. You liked her. But why ruin everything? It's not like you know if she even actually likes girls, she’s never really “came out” or even mentioned girls before… but it's not like she’s mentioned any boys either. 

[⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡]

We were giggling at the movie we were watching (it was definitely Mean Girls for like the 100th time) and I laid my head on her chest, keeping my hand over her stomach as she played with my hair. It wasn’t something that was unusual for us, physical touch was a massive thing in our friendship, but I couldn’t help but fall for her more and more each time.

“Why is Regina such a massive dick- her and Janis just need to get together already!” I said bursting out laughing. “Like cmon-”

Uraraka’s laugh also filled the room, that sweet adorable giggle. I could never get enough of it. “You think they like each other?” She said, a little surprised, a small smile on her lips.

“Oh they definitely do,” I said looking back up at her smiling. Her face was so close to me, I could see that cute little light in her eyes, she literally looks like she’s made of glitter and sunshine. A small hint of pink scattered across my face from the close proximity of us two.

She let out a small giggle at my response. “You're probably not wrong, but they're sooo mean to each other though!” She said letting out a small laugh, with a hint of a whine at the movie’s odd dynamic.

I gave her a small shrug, still smiling and looking into her eyes. Honestly, I could care less about the movie right now, my entire focus was on her. The hint of pink on my face now became more noticeable as time passed and I kept just admiring her face.

Uraraka let out another small giggle, raising her eyebrows a slight bit. “Whaaaat?” She said, dragging out the word, a small hint of confusion in her words.

“Nothing- you’re just really pretty Chaco,” I said, my face turning even hotter now. I couldn’t help it, I always wanted to just be affectionate with her, show her how pretty she was, anything.

The smile on her face grew, and her usual blush appeared back onto her cheeks. She loved the nickname you had for her. “Thanks, so are you, you know-” She said giggling once again.

Would it really be the worst thing if I just confessed now? Just maybe, she feels the same way, or I'm just delusional. Probably the latter. Everyday was getting harder to be this close with her, spending so much time with her, having these sweet intimate moments with her. 

All I did was push myself into the nape of her neck, almost as if I was trying to hide from my own feelings with her comfort. I tightened my grip on her stomach, now fiddling with the hem of her shirt, a thing I always did when I was anxious.

“You okay?” She said softly, moving her arm to my back and rubbing small circles. Her touch, her presence, her warmth, it was so much. As I continued to bury myself into her neck further, I could smell her perfume, vanilla.

I heard her call out my name now, still trying to get my attention and have me talk to her. She was always so caring.

“I’m okay Chaco, don't worry,” I said gently back to her, but that hint of nervousness still flickered in my voice as I spoke. I knew she’d continue to encourage me to speak up, she always wanted to make sure I was okay.

“Are you sure? I’m here for you, you know that,” She said gently, once again. She continued to still rub small circles on my back, maintaining that warmth and comfort I desperately need right now. 

A let out a small sigh, reluctant, but I spilled my guts anyways.

I finally positioned myself to look at her, the blush on my face still evident, but you could just see how apprehensive I was to tell her. She won’t hate me, right? This won't change anything, it won’t. 

I continued to mess with the hem of her shirt, spinning the fabric in between my fingers, trying to get my heart to stop from beating out of my chest. “Chaco, this might be a bit odd but..” I hesitated before I kept going, breaking the eye contact I was trying hard to hold onto.

I felt her free hand cup my face, gently bringing my gaze back onto her. The worry in her eyes was soft, and it just made my heart beat even more.

“I like you,” I said to her gently, my voice trembling a bit.

And there it was, a small smile appeared on her face. “I like you too.”

“R-really?” I said in a bit of awe, a smile of my own now on my face. I was blushing like an idiot. My own best friend likes me back, this can’t be real.

“Yeah dummy,” She said giggling a bit, her thumb caressing my cheek. I could see that gentle look in her eyes, her gaze was full of affection and care.

I giggled back as well, my eyes becoming glossy from my excitement, my emotions were high, and I was just in awe. This beautiful girl, my best friend, my Chaco, liked me back? I just felt like I was on cloud nine, like I was floating. Actually, it felt even better than floating, and I could say from experience of Uraraka using her powers on me, this was a thousand times better.

“I didn’t even know you liked girls” I said a bit sheepishly, still in shock. I moved my arm from her stomach, now placing my own hand over hers that was on my cheek.

She gave me a small shrug back, that smile still on her face. “I never really talked about it to people before. I didn’t feel like I had to, I like who I like, even if that’s girls, I don’t see why that matters,” She said softly.

She wasn’t wrong. Girls like girls, it wasn’t any different from boys liking girls and vice versa. Totally would have been nice to know prior to having to spill my guts to her and taking a shot in the dark. 

I smiled at her, “Guess you’re not wrong.” 

I glanced down at her lips and back at her eyes. This moment felt intimate, different than anything we had before. A blush was still scattered on my face, especially from how close we were, and the things we just said.

I noticed she glanced down at my lips too. Her own blush became more prevalent as we just spent time in this position. 

I felt her pull my face closer to hers, and then she pressed her lips against mine. It was gentle, sweet- nothing like I had ever experienced before. I couldn’t help but melt into the kiss. Her lips felt warm, familiar, and there it was, the hint of vanilla on her lips too. The kiss lingered for a moment, before we pulled back. 

We both giggled a bit, as the blush remained on our dumb and lovestruck faces.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Politely requesting: the first time Auron sleeps over at Rook's place instead of the other way around

What a cozy little place.

Following after Rook, Auron smiled fondly seeing them open the door to their apartment. Going in quickly they made a ta dah motion to their living arrangement. The red head looked around and smiled, it looked so homey, or as much as you could with a small apartment.

"I like your decorations." Simply saying, Auron chuckled seeing Rook puffing their chest out slightly at the complement.

"Thanks! Most of these are either hand me downs from family or thrifted!" Explaining, Rook then went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Do you want a drink? I think I have soda?"

Looking through it Rook grabbed some drinks, grabbing their favorite and turning to Auron. Who hummed and shook his head, deciding to sit on the couch. It felt nice under his hand, looking around this was very different then his pent house.

"It's weird being in such a small space. Not that I mind, it just feels more lived in?" Trying to explain his words. Auron blinked as Rook plopped down next to him giggling.

"Yeah, instead of one room having a personal touch everything does. Except the front closet. I just throw shit in there and pray nothing falls." Laughing at their words. Rook grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, wondering what they should put on.

"What not going to give me a tour?" Asking jokingly, Auron snorted a bit at Rook's reaction. He got a blank stare as they began pointing at different places in the apartment.

"Uh, kitchen, hallway to the right is the bathroom the left is my room and that's all really." Shrugging Rook looked at their partner. "What wanted to see my room? We can do that right now."

Getting up Rook tugged Auron to follow, the red head laughed and followed after them. Seeing pictures of people and things on the walls of the hallways. Before turning left and entering their room, seeing the room made Aurom smile.

"Wow, it really fits you." Looking around, Auron picked up a small plushie. Rook waved him off sheepishly and moved a few things off the floor.

"Thanks, but I could have definitely cleaned up." Chiding themselves, Rook grabbed a hamper with dirty clothes and walked out. Auron blinked at being left alone, wow they really trusted him.

Turning to their bed he sat down and smiled at how comfy it was. Also chuckled a but seeing how packed full of things making it seem all plushed.

"Okay so, I threw a load in. If you wanna change I got a big shirt that might fit you? If you wanna wear it, it's in my closet. I'm going to make dinner. Do you care if its ramen?" Words snapped Auron out of a trance. The red head turned and saw Rook fully in a comfortable outfit.

A big shirt that hes pretty sure was his and some shorts. Rook came in and looked in their body mirror by the door poking at their face. Then turned to look at Auron for a response.

"No, I don't mind dear." Answering them, Auron got up and went to the closet. His partner threw a smile before leaving to the kitchen.

Looking through the closet the CEO was thinking how he could just take a shirt and keep it. Shaking the thought away to contemplate next time, he changed. Jumping a bit when Rook yelled about the hot water touching their hand.

"You okay?" Worried, Auron rushed out of their room. Only to see Rook stirring the noodles looking at him funny.

"Oh my god! I forgot that shirt had that!" Laughing Rook wiped their tears. Confused Ahron looked down and deadpanned seeing the words on the shirt.

'Sexy bitch' in bright pink colors with a stripper on it. Sighing Auron looked at Rook, their laughter making him roll his eyes and smile. Maybe coming to their place was the better choice.

[vinnsley]

Hi! I saw your recent post about wanting to write! If you're still caught up with Dislyte, could you write something quick for Chu Yao x reader?

(ignore this request if you change your mind or if you don't want to do it, it's totally ok!)

actually, im not caught up at all, i have 0 idea who this fellow is! 😝

So im gonna write headcanons of how i think he would act like based on voice lines and design. tho i might redownload it... sigh

didnt read again nor edit it, were raw dogging with this one

[--------------]

To me, he seems to be rather secretive and someone who tends to keep to himself. So the fact you even close to him to be friends — Let alone lovers was a miracle on it's own.

Especially if you weren't a Shadow Decree member. (Mortal, Esper, or part of the Esper Union, doesn't matter)

Based on him wanting to 'dominate' earth and heaven (Also probably everything beyond it), he would probably want to monitor you any way he could. As a way to make himself feel like he has the 'upper-hand'.

Definitely possessive and becomes easily jealous. Judging from his divinate art, he definitely has some type of trauma (My guess would be religious?)

"When all is chaos... i will rule." Even if this his echo intro, he looks like an uptight clean freak who cannot work or gets unnerved if he has to be in a disorganized environment. You cannot really convince me otherwise. So if you were to actually 'hang out' with him... you would need to be somewhere he affirms is clean to his standards.

He probably (definitely imo) has a twisted sense of 'justice'. To me, it seems like he's simply obsessed with the idea of pleasing Taiyi and would do anything to achieve praise and reassurance that he's good enough. (For what? 0 idea)

So... praise him. He would be surprised. Wide eyes as he looks over at you and if you're lucky, a slight blush forming on his cheeks. But don't overuse it. Of you overuse praise, it loses it's meaning (specifically coming from you.), if you would per se praise him daily for something he would shrug it off like it was just a random comment, not reacting or even focusing on you.

The same goes for those cursed 3 words. I love you. Don't overuse this either, ESPECIALLY this. Because i bet on my life that he wouldn't say 'I love you' even if his life depended on it. (Maximum only when he was in private or something.)

Talking about private, i said before, he's definitely closed off. You wouldn't know much of what he's doing, what's going on his mind, or what he's planning. And you would know even less if you aren't a Shadow Decree member. Though that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't love nor trust you, he's just used to keeping to himself.

In all honesty, i doubt he's much of a talker either. I think he wouldn't speak unless he's spoken to or he deems fit to interfere. So it would probably be you doing most of the talking. But he would engage in the conversation with small quips and responses to let you know he is listening (and interested perhaps), and not ignoring you.

I think his love language would be gift giving. Trinkets he found or bought (maybe even hand-made, i think he definitely has some type of hobby he secretly very much enjoys and does it closed doors whenever he could) to give you. Definitely something usable or something you could utilize in a way.

I also think he likes proximity. It plays into him being very protective about the things he likes, enjoys or treasures. So if you're close to him, or he knows where you are (plays into monitoring...) he's fine and dandy. Just his usual self.

[halfelven]

i like waking up in the middle of the night and doing things and then going back to sleep to wake up again to a fresh batch of rolls

i also think i get more things done at night because there are fewer options of things to do so choosing one thing is from a narrower list of things to be done.

i wonder if i could use this in my daytime life by breaking my to-do lists into smaller sections of related activities and then picking out one from a list of, say, three things, rather than a list of fifteen or more

[sodacowboy]

oh man today has not been a good day lmao

[haarute]

had a bad bout with mother ✌️

[nostalgia-tblr]

thanks to TV Tropes for reminding me how damn often RTD!Who does that thing of condeming the mass-killing of (usually) Daleks and getting (usually) the Doctor to decide not to do it and then getting someone else to kill them all anyway because we don't want the hero to make a horrible choice but we also don't want him and the rest of the universe to have to live with the consequences of his decision to nope out of it on moral grounds. so the story does in fact think that the Daleks need to be killed en masse but only if it can be done by a scapegoat or someone who is unaware of what they're doing and who thus cannot be blamed for their actions.

[britneyshakespeare]

around 6 o'clock (east coast u.s. standard time) some guy from fucking australia, with no mutual friends obviously, friend- and message-requested me on facebook saying he hoped i didn't mind the add, but "you came up in my recommended and are the cutest ginger i've ever seen." and it like literally gave me chills because holy hellllll, how the FUCK did this guy find my profile? i have no public posts; i hardly ever comment on public posts; i don't post in large, active groups; etc etc etc etc so it creeped the FUCK out of me. sometimes fb puts ppl w no mutual friends in my "people you may know" but, creepily enough, they often are people i... know, if not have some sort of mutual connection with? like they might be old classmates or friends of friends creating new profiles (so no mutual friends yet), etc. and this is true for ppl who also don't have info on their profile saying they live in/near my hometown, went to my school at some point, etc. like THAT is very creepy how meta somehow knows that. but this guy from australia i am absolutely sure i have no connection to whatsoever. WHY WOULD I???? i have no connection to australia at all other than a couple of mutuals i have on here.

so anyway i took a screenshot of the message and showed it to my friends cuz i was freaking out about it and needed to get that off my chest and one friend was like "why dont you block him" (me reading that 4 hours later) and im like you know what i didnt think it was necessary but not a bad idea. and i go to check the message request and the message was unsent, and he also deleted the friend request. lmaooooo. maybe his girlfriend found his phone

[batsplat]

[pumpking64]

.

[munch-mumbles]

ive been a little upset about it all night so i need to write out all the things that happened at work today and are bugging me so i can TRY to get it out of my head and actually RELAX bc i just keep pacing in circles around it instead of just accepting it and moving on