#crumbs aren't enough any more i need more

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

don't know what it is either they're just so!!!

They're So!!!

when you mentioned in your tags that there was hardly any laughingstock i didn't believe you at first, but holy shit ur right. YOU AND @krasytoonz MADE ME INTO A LAUGHINGSTOCK BELIEVER. I WILL PAY TRIBUTE TO THESE SKRUNGLY FUCKERS SOON, MARK MY WORDS *shakes fist into the void*

no yeah Seriously though its just us out here, fighting for our lives in the fucking Trenches. in ten years someone is gonna use the word 'laughingstock' casually in conversation and im gonna have War Flashbacks

[tinyfantasminha]

👍

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! best friend yuuji, cheating, cunnilingus, breeding (kinda), anal mentioned, bad idea mistakes made. not proofread at all

yuuji is the best best friend anyone could ever ask for.

you're sobbing your eyes out? he’s there to rub your back and hold your tissues. you're having health problems that are waaaayy too embarrassing to tell a doctor? he’s doing extensive research to try to figure out how to help you. you're super drunk and throwing up? he’s holding your hair back, whispering how it's all gonna be alright. you're super hungover? don't worry! he has just the thing. you post a picture of yourself? he’s your number one hype man, leaving an insane amount of comments about how you came, served cunt, ate without leaving any crumbs, and left. the point is: he is the best.

unfortunately, however, most guys aren't the biggest fan of girls with a boy best friend. but don't fret! yuuji will be there to comfort you about feeling lonely. after all, he's always here for you.

oh! fortunately, however, you finally find yourself in a relationship with a guy that just adores you, and doesn't give two shits about yuuji as long as he doesn't pull anything. and, of course, yuuji would never pull anything.

not-so-fortunately, however, after over a year of dating, your amazing boyfie is gone on a work trip for months.

you have needs! needs he’d usually be fulfilling! how could he leave you like this? all alone! it's so sad, truly. your hands or measly toys will never feel as good as the real thing.

naturally, tmi has never once existed in you and yuuji’s friendship. so you end up on a call with him, yakking his ear off about how desperately you need a dick appointment. you just keep going on and on and on about way too many details of the sex you so dearly miss.

“and he's so good with his mouth!” you continue, not even giving yuuji the opportunity to respond, “like, there's no way i can do that to myself! uuuuuggggh—when’s he coming home?” you're pacing your bedroom, getting almost antsy, as you blab.

yuuji’s on the other line, just giggling occasionally, letting you ramble all you want. but, suddenly, something pops into his head.

“oh, god, he does this one thing with his tongu—”

“why don't i help you out?” the words are rolling out of his mouth.

why you agreed is unbeknownst to you, but yuuji is down on his knees on the floor of your apartment in less than fifteen minutes nonetheless.

of course, you'd never cheat on your boyfriend! that's not what you're doing! this is just a favor, right? a friendly little thing. yuuji doesn't want his best friend to be all sad and frustrated. he just can't bear to see you like that any longer.

your pussy is prettier than he imagined (yes, he’s imagined her before—one too many times you've bent over in a too short skirt and almost accidentally flashed him or a few too many pairs of pants that hug her too tight and you somehow how don't notice). he stares for a moment up at your leaky cunt in what must be awe once your pants are pulled off and you're lazily spreading your legs apart for him on the edge of your bed.

he’s not gonna tell you he thinks you're pretty. well, not now. obviously, you're ethereal—he’s told you before—but, when he's inching his parted lips toward your swollen clit, he’s gonna keep his mouth metaphorically shut.

his eyes flutter shut in unison with yours as his tongue flattens on the underside of your little bundle of nerves. your hands slap into his hair, it's shorter than your boyfriend’s, but it’ll do. his hands hold your legs far enough open with his big hands while he absolutely loses himself in your pussy.

this wasn't his first rodeo, but your taste, your cunt, your everything is far from anything he’d ever had before. perfect is the only word he knows to describe it, but even that doesn't come close.

he's moaning maybe more than you are as he laps at the sap oozing out of you. his dick feels like it's being suffocated in the strict confines of his sweats and boxers; he's not sure he's even been this hard before.

though, he knows this isn't for him. he can go rub one out when he's left you satisfied, but he has to get you satisfied first. this is just a favor for you.

but, when you're squirting down his throat shamefully quick, he can’t help but help the sadness that he’d have to go so soon. you're convulsing and mewling out incoherent words that sound suspiciously close to yuuji’s name. your mind feels a mess. you hadn't cum since the last time your boyfriend was home (which felt so long ago now, even longer than it had been), but something was telling you it wasn't enough.

he pulls away to do something—wipe your juices that were trickling down his chin, say something to you, or get a rag to clean you up—but his actions are interrupted with an almost lightning fast reflex shove on the back of his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt again. for the first time since he started, he glances up at your face, all sweaty and plastered with the most beautifully erotic look.

“yuuji,” you breathe out, completely forgetting what you’d half-heartedly mentioned about not wanting to use his name so it didn't feel so intimate, “wan’ your tongue in me.” your words are lewd, words yuuji never expected to hear from your mouth, especially directed at him. his cock twitches a little in its cotton prison, pre-cum oozing from his pretty pink tip and leaving a dark spot in his boxers.

he can't say no to you.

he dips his head lower, the tip of his nose pressed just below your clit as he tentatively presses his hot tongue into your hole. you're squeezing around him instantly with a grip that his him worried you might suck his tongue out of his mouth. you can't help but to throw your head back and moan all too loud while gripping his hair harder than you’ve ever gripped anything in your life.

he's practically just french kissing your cunt, no real direction or plan considering he’s just as lost in your pussy as you are in his mouth, but it brings a sense of nirvana to you anyway. it feels like your soul has left your body, replacing any sense of self with some sort of sex fiend who wants yuuji.

maybe it's the lack of recent adequate stimulation, maybe it's the fact that's is yuuji, maybe it's something else entirely, but, either way, you are a mess. hiccuping through shrill moans, legs shaking and thrashing, eyes bolted shut, knuckles turning white from your grasp on yuuji’s pink locks, pussy throbbing. you’re not sure you’ve been such a desperate, horny creature of a woman ever in your life. but, is the explanation really necessary? not when you start grinding down on yuuji’s face, no.

you're swiping your slick soaked folds up and down over his nose, moaning and whimpering when your clit rolls over the slope just right. it's even more heavenly when yuuji shoves his tongue further inside you, sending vibrations up into you with a groan at how you humped his face.

when you're suddenly cumming on his face again, with a sharp “yuuji!”, you’re sure your brain is all gone. any sense of rationality, of anything at all was gone. you should be worried about how wrong this is, how the old lady whose apartment is next to yours that’s way too invested in you and your boyfriend's relationship will definitely ask why you were screaming another man's name. but, you're not. you're not worried about anything but your best friend and his magical mouth.

his brain's out the window too. which is why he doesn't think twice before crawling on top of you and latching his lips onto yours. he's tugging his pants and boxers down with such fervor while his other hand gropes your tits and pushes you down on your bed, the same bed you’d gossiped and giggled in with the man on top of you. you can taste yourself on your lips, but it doesn't make you cringe like you thought it would—though you're a little too focused on the absolutely delightful kiss you’re sharing.

“i know you said that i’d just be eating you out,” he mumbles against your lips between heavy kisses once his cock is finally free, “but, please.”

you don't even remember what you said at this point as you nod dumbly.

he practically moans at the permission alone. he holds the base of his dick and swipes the tip up and down your sopping folds, only pulling away from your kiss swollen lips to stare at the lewd sight. you don't look, letting your head roll back and tongue loll out of your mouth.

the second his fat tip is pushing past your weakened ring of resistance, he's moaning like a bitch in heat. he can't decide whether to let his eyes roll so far back he can see his brain or ogle the filthy scene between you two. he listens to the delectable, unfiltered noises that bubble out of your throat without so much as breath between, and it only fuels the fire of need in his stomach.

he's thought of you before. he couldn't help it, who could? on nights of pumping his fist when his imagination ran too wild or he ran out of porn to watch, of course the most important girl in his life would pop up. bent over with your face stuffed in the pillows, pretty cunt glistening with your wetness on full display for his eyes. or your plump lips (that your boyfriend always got to kiss, how unfair) wrapped around his cock, hollowing your cheeks and holding only the most orgasm inducing eye contact as you take him down your throat expertly. or maybe even his cock using your ass while his fingers plunge in out of your pussy, amorous and perverted sloshing sounds filling his ears—

oh, yeah. reality.

he’s only about halfway in, and the sheer girth of his cock as you arching you back and writhing in place. it would hurt if he didn't make you cum oh-so hard twice in a row. he pulls his hand away from his base to roll his shaky thumb over your abused clitty, earning a sharp hiss from you. though, it goes unnoticed.

everything is unnoticed by yuuji right now. he could barely tell you his own name with the way your hole is sucking the dear life out of his cock. condoms? what are those? your boyfriend? who’s that? any woman other than you? doesn't exist.

tears are forming in your hazy eyes once he bottoms out, the feeling of being so full registering you nothing but a personified mess of pleasure. yuuji was clearly bigger than your boyfriend, not by much length wise, but he was much thicker, stretching out your gummy walls.

he doesn't give you much time to recover (not like you want it anyway) before he's slamming in and out of you. your basically limp body bounces up with each mean thrust of his hips, drilling his cock so perfectly up into you. his thumb is still lazily circling your clit.

it's not long before he's practically begging to cum. with all sense long disappeared, you agree, feeling on edge again yourself.

he mumbles a thanks as his pace grows impossibly harder and sloppier, reaching an previously undiscovered spot deep inside you that has you breathlessly gasping out little “ah! ah! ah! ah!”s with each ram against it. your clenching around him, trying to milk him for all his worth as your release washes over you a third time.

as you coat his cock and hand and add the puddle of your juices under your ass, he stops his aimless thrusts to force his cock so deep inside you that you see nothing but stars—it's like he's trying to get you pregnant. hot, sticky cum fills you up to the brim, overflowing your cunt.

and it's as he finishes oh-so deep inside your pussy, tip kissing your cervix, that he mutters three words. words he’d said to you before, words you’d said back to him, though in much different contexts. after long, heartelt talks, after a really great stress relieving hangout, when you're hanging up the phone, when you just want to appreciate your best friend. but, this isn't one of those times. he's filling you with cum, saying,

“i love you.”

[impish-baby]

Can we have some more Valerian pretty please? Just a few crumbs or anything you're willing to give

Hi, anon! You can have some general headcannons for him while I work on part two of his fic! ^^

Valerian headcanons - vampire caregiver - 🦇🥀

🦇 - doesn't have a preference for how his little one refers to him! He can be papa, momma, baba, doesn't matter to valerian. They will get a kick out of being called something like gramps though

(forewarning, any intense name calling might end up with your mouth washed out with soap, so maybe it's best to stick with a proper title. They know cursing can be fun to little ones, but they aren't raising an impolite child!)

He will call you a number of different pet names, but he prefers the classics like sweetheart and darling! His favorite thing to call you though is little prince/princess or some variation of that

🥀 - one of their favorite things in the whole world is dressing up their baby! Valerian takes great care in curating outfits for you, sometimes it makes you feel more like a doll than a person. "Oh, look at my little bat! You look so very lovely in this darling.." If you have long hair, the vampire is all over styling it! Especially loves adding bows and cute little hairclips if you'll let him (even with how overbearing they are, you do get some say in your wardrobe! If you prefer more masc, fem, or neutral styles your attire will reflect that)

🦇 - you'll never long for anything with him (other than your freedom)! Spoiling you is the greatest treasure, nothing is too much for his little royal. They get very passionate about you writing a list to Santa with all the things you want, even gets those little toy catalogs for you to circle (when you first arrive your room is already filled with things you enjoy, as creepy as that is. If you're good you can even go to the shops together and pick out more!)

🥀 - patience is a learned skill, and they've had a very, very long time to learn it. It takes a lot to anger or upset the vampire, so you can get away with quite a bit. Trying to harm yourself is completely out of the question, however. Any attempt will have you thralled for a good while, locked up in a crib or playpen depending on the time. "Now, you know better than that dearest. Come on, maybe you need some mittens on those little hands since you can't seem to not scratch yourself.."

🦇 - with that, punishments aren't very harsh and you'll have to push quite hard to receive one. Usually it's things like a time out or having to write a paper about what you did and why it was wrong, but it'll have to be drastic to get that far. Seeing the usually giddy vampire actually cross with you might be enough to scare you away from misbehaving again anyway

🥀 - valerian does want you to love him and stay of your own volition, he'll wait as long as it takes. You have all eternity together after all, dearest! Papa loves you, and you'll learn to love him, even if that's a hundred years from now

(a/n: it makes me so happy that people like them!! :> Feel free to ask more about him if there's something you'd like to see or are curious about.)

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter 3

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten(finale!)|

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma

Word count: 1.5k

Unedited

He was avoiding you. You could tell. He made it very obvious. Each morning you woke up, he was going to sleep. And every night you went to sleep, he was just waking up, but he didn't dare leave the room, for fear that he would run into you.

Joon was still being Joon, and the Situation with Jimin made it worse. You weren't sure if he knew what happened between you and Jimin, but you didn't ask to find out either. However, he was eating more and more. At least he can trust you enough to eat your cooking. That's progress, right?

Before you knew it, the boys had been with you for two weeks. Some of them had become pretty comfortable. Taking the advice Taehyung gave you, you bought some cat scratchers for Yoongi. All of the wolf hybrids in the pack would go in the backyard to let all their energy out, except Joon. He just watched over them, scolding them whenever they would chase the chickens.

Jungkook was your new best friend. He stuck by your side like glue, your big buff teddy bear. Yoongi was quiet, reserved. He spoke to you often, but he tried not to talk for longer than a couple minutes. Jin and Taehyung were the best of help. He always cook meals, and when it's time to farm, he never lets you do anything yourself. Hoseok was still timid and flighty, but he was loyal. This group of dangerous hybrids was slowing becoming a loving family... very slowly.

"Seriously Tae, get your own!" Jungkook and Taehyung were fighting over the new snacks you had gotten them. One thing you learned about about kook was that he was very territorial over his belongings. That's why you had a specific drawer of snacks with his name on it.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stop Taehyung.

"Just one bite, please!" They were playing tug of war with the bag of chips. Jungkook was winning. "You have a whole box of them! I can't have just one?"

"No! You can't", he protested. While trying to tear the chips from Tae's grasp, the bag rips, chips flying in the air and landing all over the kitchen.

"Look at what you did!" Tae accused, bending down to pick everything up. A broom would've been more efficient but he wasn't sure where you kept it. "Hurry up and help me clean before Y/n sees it!"

Swiftly, Jungkook helps pick up the salty potato chips. Before exiting the kitchen, they look around one more time to make sure there wasn't even a single crumb on the floor.

And with that, the argument over the chips was over, never brought up again...

You noticed that Jimin loved hanging out in your greenhouse, admiring all of your colorful flowers. You wanted to give him some space, but while watching him walk around the greenhouse you had the urge to join him.

"Those are vincas, by the way", you whispered loud enough for him to hear you, fiddling with your fingers.

He appeared to be startled by your presence- rightfully so. His mouth hung open, looking as if he wanted to say something. You stoped him before he could get the chance.

"Before you say anything. Let me just apologize first-"

He shook his head. "Don't. There's no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong... I should be the one apologizing. I know that hybrids and humans aren't allowed to interact i-in that way- very selfish of me."

"What are you talking about?" You may have done a lot of research on hybrids, but you never did any on their relationship with people. Maybe you should've...

"In the lab they always told us..", Jimins mind went back to the days he wished to never remember.

The lab was cold, ice cold. Stuffed in cages, the wolves shivered, huddled together for warmth. One by one, the men in lab coats sedated the wolves, fearing being bit by them.

"This one is feisty!" The researcher laughed, holding the hybrid by the spikey collar as the medicine kicked in. The others in the cage kicked and pulled on the metal bars.

"Please! He's tired, he can't take anymore!" The pack leader begged. "Take me! Take me instead, I'll do anything."

The researcher came up to the cage with a cane, banging it on the bars. "Listen here, mutt", he hissed. "Each of us have a part to play. Your is to be obedient to your superiors, understood?"

The other men laughed and applauded him for putting Joon in his place. "That's right! Show him what happens when mutts defy humans..."

Everyone in the lab agreed, shouting as if the lab had become the coliseum. A fox hybrid ran up to the bars, getting down on his knees, head pointed to the floor.

"Please excuse him, sir. We know are place is and will always be behind these bars. Please have mercy", he pleaded.

The researcher smirked. "Always remember your place. You will never have what we have. No human will ever want you, not even as a pet- definitely not as a lover. Remember this- your barely human, and will never be treated as such..."

Jimin was heavily drugged up, laid out on the surgery table. However, what the researcher said, his words- Jimin remembered every last bit of it. It still rang in his ears. You will never be treated as human...

And so, if I'm not going to be treated as one, why try and act like one? Why not let my wolf counterpart take over? These thoughts dangled over Jimin's head. And with those thoughts, he used every last bit of his strength to stab one of the researchers with a knife- the same knife they were gonna use to rip him open.

Namjoon grabbed the other man through the metal bars, choking him until his eyes rolled backwards. Jimin rolled off of the table, and the rest is a blur.

Next thing they knew, the men in lab coats were dead, and all of the hybrids in the lab were freed by Jimin's hands. With how weak he was, it truly was a miracle. He saved the lives of over a hundred hybrids.

The next few months after, these hybrids hid in the woods, using their primal instincts to survive. Maybe those men were right. Maybe they were never human to begin with.

That's what they thought, but those thoughts went away when they met you. The person who was kind enough to let them in their home, give the somewhere to rest their head. It was you. You were their person.

But sadly, you couldn't erase the damage that had been done. You couldn't get rid of the bad memories, the mistreatment. And that moment you showed a bit of affection for Jimin, he was elated, but the voices started speaking to him.

And then men in the lab coats came to him saying, this won't last forever...

***

"Why didn't you tell me? I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable in any way!"

Jimin told you his story, his deep-rooted fears. You both laid in a field of daisies as he confided in you. It's difficult for you to explain the emotions you were feeling as he told his past. Sympathy? Rage? Both?

"Because... A part of me- actually all of me wanted to. I want to be yours. But the thoughts- they're stuck in my brain and resurface every time I get even a little bit of hope." Jimin's head hung low, picking the flowers from the fresh soiling and plucking each petal one by one.

She loves me...she loves me not... she might love me?

You grabbed his hands gently, holding them between yours. "Look at me", you asked him softly. He obeyed, of course.

"You are half wolf, that part is true. But Park Jimin, you are human! You more human than any human I've ever encountered! You're kind, charismatic, and the most thoughtful person I have ever met.

Your words brought tears to his eyes, and seeing him cry made you eyes swell, too. You enveloped him, hugged him tightly- but not too tight. Just enough to show how much you mean it. Then you placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

"You deserve this, Minnie." The new nickname perked his ears. You could tell he liked it. "You deserve life. An amazing fucking life."

"T-thank you", he whispered. "I- I can't thank you enough."

"Don't thank me. Just get better. Seeing you hurt makes me hurt. And seeing you scared makes me scared. I swear on everything I love that you will never go back there, or anywhere."

"But, once Joon is ready, we'll be gone", Jimin confessed. "I don't want to leave, but he also has his own story to tell."

You pondered, never daring to remove Jimin from your grasp. Maybe you can convince him to stay permanently? Maybe there is something you can do to ease the pain...

"Don't worry your pretty little head, just rest." You gave his hair a fluff, earning a cheesy smile from him. And just like that, you both napped in the field of daisy, his arms wrapped around your waist and your hands holding his head close to your chest.

You have to make things right...

~Taglist! (closing soon!!)

@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden @woozixo@anaspectoflife @blackrockshooter780 @famousdelusionobservation @jewishmommy @talyaaas-blog @eashmo @jaiele @kaceypdf @reallysparklychaos

~Permanent taglist!

@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o7

[lukolabrainrot]

Calm theory anon here...

I just wanted to check in and basically bring some calmness back which I feel like is probably needed. I've been reading a lot of the comments and a lot of the different blogs. I've got some things I want to touch on. The other ship if y'all run across any of their comments just scroll on past. They want to cause problems. They have attacked other people and other pages simply because they do not believe the same things they believe. I've seen them call us crazy I've seen them Call us delusional. Realistically speaking there's not one creator on here that has insider information. It doesn't matter how big the creator is they don't know. So to fight with them is probably a waste of your time. It's not gonna get you anywhere. They're gonna be stuck on what they believe for whatever reason they believe it. Don't waste your time. Another thing I want to touch on I seen some comments on some other blogs that people are feeling like Nick and Luke owe them because they've given us crumbs. They have in my opinion, given us crumbs. But we can't say for sure that it's not us reading too far into things. I don't think we are but these are people with actual lives with actual likes and dislikes so if they share a song, it just might be because they like the song. Or if they take a walk with a friend, it might just be a simple walk with a friend in a crowded space. Now what we've seen I think things are probably more complex than what we think that they are. Life has a way of making things difficult. Then you add people and things become even harder. So while I would love for Luke and Nicola to launch the reality is they have to do that when they're confident enough in their relationship. They're going to be around other people. They're going to be seen with other people. You have to remember that what we don't see is what they're trying to protect that's the stuff that they keep closer to their chest to protect it. We got a glimpse that Luke was actually around Nicola through the picture the stylist posted. That's something that they clearly want to protect and that's a great sign. We just have to be patient. Ultimately, these are actual people with real lives and with real feelings. I feel like we have to remember that. And if you're feeling angry or sad you probably then need to take some time away from this. You cannot let anything affect your mental health. I am in it for the long-haul I think that there's more going on behind-the-scenes. I think that things aren't as easy to explain nor do we deserve the explanation and for those of you that are tearing apart everything they do get a life. We have to remember that we cannot expect something that you yourself would never be able to give. We demand explanations on decisions that they have personally made and we personally would never explain to strangers the decisions we've made in our lives. How can we hold them to a higher standard than we hold ourselves to? Again, they are people with feelings and problems.

As always, thank you Calm Theory Anon!!

No notes!

[nanamis-bigtie]

sandwich served hot

↬ kusakabe & nanami x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no excessive body descriptions), open relationship, workplace situationship, threesome, alcohol consumption, oral sex, rimming, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, reader has pubes, reader is a bottom, everyone involved is bi because i said so ❤ summary: with over ten years of married experience, you thought your experiments with open relationship aren't needed anymore for maintaining your meticulously built balance. but one night a hot coworker sneaks himself in between your gears word count: 2.4k a/n: ahem, i might have gotten a little overboard with this one but who can blame me, given my favorite dilfs are in game~ tag list: @thesacredfanfics

Your over ten years long marriage with Atsuya could only be described as a winning streak. Successful business you've been running together for almost as long as you've worn your rings, comfortable and modern apartment with enough space for you both and your hobbies, wide acquaintanceship and circle of friends, supporting families, trips abroad every year, and no crumb of complications as far as your eyes could reach. It required some sacrifices at the beginning, but your hard work has paid off. You're like inextricable puzzles, soulmates, perfect halves of one heart, so welded that you're sharing everything and even more—from your goals and ideals, through your kinks and fantasies, to the flings you've picked up along the way.

The core of your relationship is its flexibility. Leading busy lives and often apart for weeks, you had decided to open it long before you decided to tie the knot. Both of you had your hesitations but the experience only proved your idea right. It filled the cracks and pulled you together where the ties seemed to loosen, your love only grew stronger and lust for each other bloomed like crazy. Neither of your side quests remained solo for long, your lovers of all genders eventually found their way to your shared bedroom and stayed, some for one night only, some for years. 

No one stayed forever, though. Maybe the fire of love between you two was too strong and burnt anyone who tried to approach. Maybe in the end you weren't as open as you thought, unintentionally pushing your other lovers aside. Maybe you just never loved either of them and your shared relationships were filled only with lust. Eventually, even if neither of you declared your union closed again, you stopped looking and opening the doors for guests. There were only the two of you again, loving each other as strong as ever, and happy in your tight embrace.

Well, until Kento Nanami happened and slipped between the cracks you didn't bother to cover on the way.

He's your accountant, the best your company has had thus far. He's smart and handsome, professional to a fault and maybe a little too stiff and formal—or so you thought before you learnt it's a meticulously built mask, protecting a little awkward and shy self. And he's one hundred percent in your type, for both you and Atsuya, driving you crazy at any given opportunity, even if most likely unawares.

That’s what you thought, until he finally accepted the invitation to join you and a few of your other employees for an official trip. Closeness has scraped the guise off, liquor has loosened scruples, and on your free day, the last night before you return, Kento is all over you in your shared bedroom, eagerly sucking your tongue as Atsuya locks the door behind your backs.

You're not drunk, just a little tipsy, the tangy aftertaste of wine barely palpable between heated kisses. It's a nice balance between oblivion and controlled madness, a perfect state to shed your clothes and succumb to what your bodies have been craving for weeks, if not months. Kento's arms wrap around you just right , a bit protective, a bit possessive, almost as strong as Atsuya's and no less ravenous. His lips are still a little clumsy, still seeking and discovering, but attentive, and by the time he finally herds you to the bed, he's already stealing your breath properly—not like a fling but a lover with history.

As soon as you sit on the edge of the mattress, Kento kneels between your legs, leaving you no doubt he's interested the most in quite different kisses. Leaning back, you let him peel your pants and undergarments out of the way. He presses his open, hungry mouth to your calves and thighs, leaving a wet trail leading straight to the simmering heat between them. He's worked hard for it with his lips and tongue, with his hands groping your sensitive spots just as Atsuya guided him, and doesn't intend to let it die too soon. He wastes only as little time as needed to take a look at your wide-spread cunt and slide his glasses off before he dives for it, deep and voraciously, so contrastive to his usually collected demeanor.

Meanwhile, Atsuya joins you on the bed, sneaks behind your back and guides you to lean against him. He helps you peel off your top of what Kento missed on his way and peppers your neck with kisses and loving nibbles. Your eyes half closed in pleasure, you can't see his expression, but you know he watches intently , he always does, the only pleasure greater for him than eating you out himself.

One hand groping and playing with your nipples, he guides you to sink fingers into Kento's soft locks. You follow without demur, your other hand reaching to thread through your husband's hair, encouraging them both to let the brakes go. Kento groans into your cunt, tongue lapping your juices and teasing your clit, as if asking for permission to suck it, while impatiently rubbing his whole face against your folds.

"Look at him, so eager." Atsuya chuckles under your ear, then latches on the well-known spot to suck a hickey. It's harsh, a bit too rough even, deliciously contrasting with still uncertain attention given to your pussy.

Your moans encourage him though, and soon the man between your legs is not as docile. He forces your legs more open, resting them against his broad shoulders, and sucks as if his life depended on it. His face is engulfed by your sex and pubes, eyes half closed in pleasure, yet relentlessly looking for contact with yours.

You grant it to him as your hands give more attention to your husband. You feel and paw his length through his pants, pulsing and begging for your touch. You're not freeing him yet, enjoying its rapid growth despite the tight confinement and Atsuya's guttural groans slipping between one and the other hickey. There's frustration in his pleasure, you pick its gentle timbre with ease—and you know it's not the lack of your attention that's at fault.

You nudge Kento's back with your foot, forcing him to pull away. His face is almost scarlet red, smeared with your juices; he looks at you puzzled and displeased for being torn away from his treat so abruptly.

"A little position change," you motion him to climb the mattress as well.

Three pairs of hands strip him of clothes, both you and Atsuya stare shamelessly at his cock, fat and throbbing, leaking precum just from tasting your sex. You move towards the head of the bed, leaving more place for both men to fit their tall bodies snug. No word is exchanged but Kento learns fast; he lies on side, cheek against one of your open thighs, exposing his cock to your husband. He doesn't wait any longer though, back to his treat in no time, almost ignoring Atsuya until he's stripped too and fits between the two of you, lips soon wrapped around Kento's cock.

Kento groans but his lips don't lose momentum, just the soft rumble of his voice resonates with your body, having you mewl in pleasure too. You thread fingers through his hair again, the other hand lazily stroking your husband. His dick looks delicious in its throbbing, veiny glory, but you want the both of them to hear you and your pleasure without any restriction. You're not shying away from your voice, with little care for not so thick hotel room walls, appreciating both the work of Kento's tongue and the delicious views. You can't peel your eyes away from Atsuya, of his lips wrapped tight around Kento's cock, of his head bobbing steadily as he sucks him off, off drool dropping down his chin. You're itching to lean close and lick it clean, but you would only disturb the configuration, so you're patient and selfish instead, leaving all the work to your hand and letting the warmth radiating from your core to swallow you.

"Wanna have a taste?" It's Atsuya who ruins the status quo first, speaking to you with his lips still connected to cock with a thick string of saliva. You sit straight, for a moment forgetting about the other lover lost in sauce between your thighs, ignoring his displeased groan for the sake of your husband's tongue slipping into your mouth. It's bitter, you easily distinct a different flavor and suck it in until it's melting and mixing with drool shared between the two of you.

Kento doesn't intend to lose the fight for your attention, soon pressing flush against your side and nipping at your neck. He follows the trail of hickeys Atsuya left, his hands groping with great impatience and almost sadistic precision. Meticulous at work, meticulous in bed, he doesn't shy away even for a moment, until he's successfully stolen you from Atsuya's embrace straight into his.

You're pulled on top of him, your lips busy again as he's wrapping his arms tight around you in a moment of selfishness. Not the first lover who tries to dominate the field in the heat of the moment, the first stubborn enough to react to Atsuya's touch with a growl at first, before he thinks better of it and lets him do his job, even helps him to guide your hips higher.

"You want..." Kento's voice is low, husky, ragged with breath. He needs to take a break between every word, fighting against the urge to mewl as you stroke his cock, using the gap in his attack on your behalf. "You want both of us?"

"That's the goal here."

You're grateful for Kento's little possessive strike prompting him to hold you so hard. You don't have to fight against pleasure for the sake of your legs holding the right angle. He keeps it for you as Atsuya spits on your asshole, slowly pushing his drool in with a thumb before he leans close and replaces it with his thick and warm tongue. Kento was hasty and hungry, but it can't compare to the way your husband eats you out. He's as aggressive as adoring, licking and sucking your rim with the same eagerness and tenderness he's showing to your lips when making out with you. No wonder you're soon melting, the familiar knot in your core tightening just from the tongue lapping its way into your ass and Atsuya's thick fingers slowly stretching your pussy open.

Another hand joins him soon, Kento focuses on your clit and kisses your moans straight from your lips. He's good at reading the right rhythm, having no other guide than your sounds and Atsuya's limited moves. You've expected them to bump into each other more but they're cooperating better than with any other of your shared lovers before, and it pays off faster than any before too.

You usually need more than that to climb your high. But together, they don't just take you there; you're soaring on the wave of pleasure as if you were thrown in the air with great force. Even Kento's hold is not enough to keep you still, you spasm and melt, and collapse—all with a moan so loud you're sure half of the hotel has heard you.

"You're still with us?" Atsuya kisses your nape. You can feel him smiling through the milk-white haze that's overpowered you after intense orgasm.

"Barely." You're not exaggerating. When you try to lift yourself and regain lost angle, your thighs tremble and you're soon lying flat on top of your lover.

"Do you want to continue?"

"God, yes ."

"You're doing so well..." Kento mutters into your ear, stealing the praise that should be granted to him and his excellent job during his first threesome ever. You're almost scolding him for that, too, but your throat is hoarse after the scream and soon you have to push your reserves somewhere else as Atsuya's tongue returns to its task.

"Shit—" You sink your nails into Kento's chest, a bit too harshly, but you can't find words to apologize. He doesn't mind it, cradling you close through each of your spasms and further, when Atsuya has finally satisfied his appetite and filled you with his cock instead, so thick and filling you to the brim.

He's moving slowly, both of them are, as Kento follows suit and finds place for himself in your cunt. It's impossibly tight for all three of you, each fighting their own battle in this maze of pleasure and struggling to keep the reins of control. It's hard to keep the right rhythm in this hell of a knot of bodies and sensations, but both men work hard for them despite the pulling need to have you crushed and squeezed between them.

It's been a long while since you've been taken like that and even longer since you've had another cock as thick as your husband's—and you're paying a great price for your bravery. But for now, you're pushing the fading voice of your reason to the back of your head. You'll worry about consequences later, now there's only the union of three bodies and pleasure so intense you feel like you're getting blind just from the intensity of their thrusts.

Kento mutters sweet and dirty nothings into the crook of your neck, Atsuya bites at it from behind, his groans guttural and losing the humane timbre. Their voices mix and melt into one, their rhythms finally find a common ground and fill you up all at the same time. In no time, you're dragged into another orgasm, somehow even stronger, almost killing with the way it clenches your throat and turns your body into one big mass of spasms and trembling.

Atsuya taps Kento's shoulder, they both hold still until you're back to your senses, gently cradled by two pairs of arms, comforted by two different soft voices, from behind and front alike.

"Are you still with us?" Your husband breathes into your neck, the same question, asked earlier with a teasing tone to it, now as serious as it can in the sweat-drenched knot of your bodies.

You would want to know it yourself.

Both men gently pull out of you and place you by their sides, nestled comfy with pillows under your head. They make sure you have a good view—and soon you learn why, watching with eyes wide open, as their bodies move in unison again, their chests flush and Atsuya's hand wrapped tight around their leaking cocks.

"Enjoy the show," your husband smirks and thrusts harsher, dragging a lewd moan out of Kento. "You've worked hard for it."

[alexanderwales]

For Thresholder there are lots and lots of worlds, most of them just name-checked, sketched out in a handful of paragraphs as a place that people had visited before and now has little plot relevance. It's my favorite part of the series.

I'm not writing one of those chapters where I need one of those worlds, and I'm not sure I could give this one its due, but the idea I had last night was a world where people could increase and decrease the size of objects virtually at will. This doesn't work with conventional physics, but that's okay, some of the worlds can be more conceptual.

To start with, we have some ground rules: you have to be touching the thing, it can only operate on loosely defined "whole objects", and there's some kind of thing that happens with objects where they retain their physical structure to some degree, even if the square-cube law means that not everything stays functional. This is easy for things made of base elements (an iron nail becomes bigger and we can grok that it's still just made of regular iron) but it's less easy for complex organics. If you increase the size of an apple, are the individual cells increasing in size? Are new cells being generated? I think for this, I would have to say that the answer is that the world works on a level of pre-Enlightenment human understanding that the real world doesn't have, one where there aren't cells. (I am a bit sketchy on when cells were discovered, and more sketchy on what they thought was going on before that.)

As far as consequences, which is my favorite thing, I think there are a few big ones.

For one, any amount of food is enough to feed an infinite number of people. A single apple can feed a family, if they want to have nothing but apple for a meal. A single apple slice can feed a family. In fact, even the smallest crumb can undergo the process of magnification to become a full meal. But while you can make "more food" by making it bigger, the taste and texture don't necessarily stay the same. It seems to me that there's probably a sweet spot for most foods in terms of size, and eating a grain of rice the size of a loaf of bread is a very different experience than eating a bowl of rice. And if you've ever eaten one of those sourdough breads with way too large of bubbles, that's what pretty much all bread would look like if magnified, just holes with strands of gluten between them. So I think in terms of food, there would be a lot of class divide, along with a lot of processing of magnified foods to make them more palatable. Maybe a loaf-size grain of rice wouldn't appeal to many people, but you can break off bits of it and probably still make mochi with it.

Another big issue is manufacturing and the trades. In my mind, you have construction workers building the equivalent of dollhouses that then get sized up on a plot of land, but I think dollhouses are a little bit small, and most trades would work on a scale that was easiest for human manipulation. I don't think that's what we do for dolls, which tends to be nimble, finnicky work, and if you can freely scale up and scale down your tools and materials, I think you'd naturally want to work a bit bigger. Probably you would rescale on many different steps of whatever you're producing, and if this world was in the industrial age, then you would have people in factories rescaling as a human step in a factory somewhere. Another cool thing is that a chef could have a single pot and pan that they resize for their needs, and a single knife that fulfills roles we would use two or three different knifes for, though I think maybe handles would be a problem there.

Anyway, I'm not going to use this anywhere, though I do think it's cool, if maybe in a way that's not all that unique (What if Big Thing were Little Thing and What if Little Thing were Big Thing are both speculative fiction staples, see Indian in the Cupboard, The Borrowers, Ant-man, etc.). I have a bunch of outstanding questions re: conservation of momentum and some hacks that only work under certain implementations, but sometimes that's a bridge too far.

[alicechess]

Yandere The Unknown x reader (part 1)

(Dead by daylight)

Note: don't question this

Also this is going to become a proper fanfic, I have no idea how long. I might connect it to my dbd fanfic.

Also I might edit it to make more sense, a lot of this has been written at 3am. Please ignore any errors they might be fixed at some point.

----

You found a new job a few weeks ago, working at a movie theatre. Honestly, you were kind of happy for it. Although the area was dirty and sticky, you were able to get a discount on the movies and snacks, which made it worth it for you. It isn't something you wanted for the rest of your life, but it was good enough for now. You moved to this new town a few months ago, and previously worked at a wreckers, but quickly moved on since the people working there were sketchy.

One of your old friends suggested to work here and of course you agreed. You got discounts and your friend everyday, she also helped you get the job. But not long after you started she disappeared. It was difficult, and you hoped every night she'd come back. The place hurt to be at sometimes, but maybe one day she'll walk in through the doors with that beautiful smile on her face.

You shook your head, you couldn't think about it now. You can't do anything to get her back. You just had to hope the police would take it seriously. But with the recent disappearances, you doubt they'd focus heavily on her. Within the past month there's been over 10 people who've gone missing. Maybe to them she's just a number. There's a few people who go missing every month. It's just... normal for this town. The police do what they can... I guess. But they never will focus for long on one person, because there's always another who goes within a few days or a week. There's just too many crimes happening that it's difficult to keep track. There's maybe a few thousand people who live there, and maybe two stations. So there needs to be more, but they probably won't bother. It's been the same two for maybe 20 years from what you'd heard.

You vacuumed the crumb covered floor, wiping down the chairs, trying to get it as clean as you could. You wanted to keep this job, at least till you could find something more stable. While mopping the linoleum floors, you listened to some music. You ignored the world around you. It was nice to have a distraction. Although cleaning wasn't a nightmare, you'd prefer not too. Some parts of the cinema was darker, your boss was always insistent on turning off the lights if you aren't in the room. It was a bit unnerving, but eventually you learnt to get used to it. It wasn't exactly welcoming, but it wasn't terrifying either.

Occasionally you'd take off your headphones for a few moments, as your ears started to get sore from the pressure. You wanted to get better ones, but you were in a somewhat small town, and there weren't a lot of electronic stores. It was annoying having the wire in the way, but you learnt how to deal with it. You decided to just let them sit on your shoulders, around your neck. Still hearing the music, although it was quieter. You hummed along, eventually sighing at peoples disgustingness. Was it so hard just to put their rubbish away?

Once the bin was full, you picked it up and went outside. The dumpster was almost overflowing, but it wasn't your job to empty that. You threw the bag on top, trying to prevent it from falling down. Once it was stable, you were about to walk inside when you heard someone voice from in the parking lot.

"Can... can you please help me? I'm stuck!" The voice sounded wrong, it's tone was off as it lacked any emotion behind the words he was saying.

You were about to walk over, but remembered all the disappearances. You felt a loud tinge of guilt. "I'm... I'm sorry I can't! I'll get the police to help." You yelled back.

"P-please I really need help!"

You gulped and stepped back, "I can't, I promise the police will come soon!"

You ran inside slamming the door, hearing the cries begging for help coming closer and closer. You were confused, if they were stuck how were they getting closer... Something wasn't right. The situation made your skin crawl. You ran to the phone which sat on the desk. You dialed the number for emergency services and asked for a police officer. You explained the situation, and made it sound more normal as you didn't want to be labelled crazy. You said it rather simply, that there was someone saying they were stuck but something seemed off and suspicious and you wanted the police to take care of it.

While you waited for the police, you sat on one of the chairs at the front desk, fidgeting while listening to music, trying to prevent yourself from panicking. You wanted to keep level-headed. You sang the song quietly, tapping your fingers on the desk. You laid your head back and closed your eyes. You kept one side of the headphone off your ear, so you could hear the police knocking and let them in.

Once they arrived, they checked the whole building and area surrounding it, eventually finding nothing. They also checked the security cameras which showed only you, nothing else. The footage showed no one in the parking lot or anywhere else.

This made you doubt yourself even more.

--

Eventually you went home and laid in bed. You struggled to fall asleep as all you could think about was what happened and the fear you felt. You kept replaying it over and over, analyzing any details you could remember. You remembered how off the voice was, how almost inhuman it was.

You brushed it off, maybe it was because of a lack of sleep. You weren't sure anymore. You tried to stop thinking of it because you really needed to sleep. But it kept squeezing through the cracks and coming back into your mind.

Your eyes slowly closed, and your breathing softened. You were so tired, so, so tired. You just wanted to rest.

Eventually, you started to hear light tapping against the window and low whispers of which sounded like it came from hundreds of people. You thought it was just because you were exhausted. It went away after a few minutes, leaving you to think you were right.

However, after tossing and turning for another 30 minutes, you were rustling in the bushes and voices near your bedroom. You shot out of bed, then peered slightly through the crack of the curtains.

You saw a head peeking out of the bushes, the main thing you noticed about the being was it's lifeless, black hole like eyes. It had no emotion and truly seemed inhuman regardless of its humanoid-like stature.

You felt your stomach drop and your heart stopped for a few moments. It twitched its head every few seconds, every time, it made your stomach twist more and more, the anxiety and fear filling you to the brim. You couldn't look away, it was almost hypnotic and left you in an awful trance with its horrifying appearance.

"Can you help me? I'm... Stuck." It said without its face moving. Your eyes widened in utter horror.

"I'm scared, please help me." It said with a loud snap of its neck, finally pulling you out of your trance. You fell onto the ground with a loud thud, you rubbed your back attempting to soothe the pain. After about a minute you got up, and went back to the curtain.

You watched as the legs of the creature disappeared from your line of sight. You weren't sure if you truly saw that, maybe you were truly going insane you couldn't tell anymore.

---

You awoke in a cold sweat to your alarm blaring into your ears. You groaned, turning it off. You didn't remember crawling back into bed, was it a nightmare? You shook it off. It was just because of the fear you felt last night, it just made you bring it into your dreams.

You stood up and got ready. You looked awful, but attempted to fix it with some makeup. You wore some more dramatic makeup, especially around the eyes. You wore some eyeliner, smudged it a little and combed your hair. You then applied some lip gloss and grabbed some random clothes from your closet.

You decided to call your boss. You knew it would be better to tell him yourself than someone else. You made it sound less bizarre and brushed it off. You didn't want to lose any shifts if he thought you needed a break.

After attempting to cover the tremble in your breath as you explained the situation, you walked to your car and headed to work. You've been taking longer shifts to earn more money. You would've left earlier yesterday if you could've but apparently that... Thing had to show up.

You stepped out of the car, the harsh winter wind making you shiver. You felt ill as you walked to the door. You had to go in though, you knew there was no other choice.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, you were swapping shifts with one of your coworkers. Your shifts often start from 6pm to 12am. The theatre often closes at 10pm, which then gives you a couple hours to do some cleaning. Sometimes you do have to stay overtime, however, which can be a bit frustrating.

As you stepped inside your coworker greeted you. Another one was working as the cashier, which you also did but in between movies you gave a quick clean to the theatre room. The other coworker leaves at 10pm, which then leaves you alone in the building.

You plopped down next to them at the register, asking how busy it was.

They sighed, scratching the back of their head. "Surprisingly, not many. A lot of people are too scared to come down this way."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'm surprised you don't know. Last night there was another disappearance nearby. The police are on high alert and people are freaking out."

"How'd they figure out they disappeared so quickly? Doesn't it normally take longer?"

"Well... It makes more sense when you know that there were screams at 2am coming from their house."

"I guess so... Sucks knowing I'm gonna be in this creepy place in the middle of the night." You grumbled, leaning back on the chair.

"Better you than me man, I'd rather quit than do that shit."

"Wow so comforting of you, thanks." You rolled your eyes, drawing on a random piece of paper to distract you.

"Yeah yeah, at least I'm being truthful! Honestly it's kinda shitty boss is still telling you to continue your shift.

"Ehh, it's fine. I need the money anyway, so the more hours the better."

"Your time not mine, just keep an eye out."

"Was planning on doing that. Also, do you think boss is going to be more of a tight ass? I hate having to have half the place pitch black while cleaning. Not the safest or efficient way to do it."

"I'm sure more people will come in the next few weeks, let's just hope the next disappearance is further away."

"I can pray, maybe god will damn help me this time." You murmur, tapping the pencil against the desk.

----

Very few people came in, only maybe 20 compared to the normal 100 or more. It meant you had less to clean, so maybe... You'll be able to leave earlier. And won't have to be in this uncomfortable place anymore. You can only pray.

As the shift passed, some people were on edge, but overall seemed fine. One child must've overheard about what happened recently, as they were scared, their eyes wide, they grabbed their mothers arm and attempted to pull them away from this place.

The mother rolled her eyes, saying they were safe since it was daylight.

"Monsters don't come out during the day, darling. You'll be fine. And there's other people here, they'll make sure to protect you." She leans down and pats her daughter on the head. "I promise you'll be okay sweetheart, it's just a movie theatre."

----

As night crept in, you started to slowly dread being there more and more. It started to slowly consume your thoughts, of what could potentially happen if you were left alone once more in this building. You hoped that since there wasn't as many people, you had more of a chance of being able to clean faster. And therefore, be able to leave earlier.

As your coworker left and put the closed sign up, you felt your stomach sink. You were sure that you were fucked. But what else could you do? You had to do your job. You had to do it regardless of what you wanted.

You went to the janitors closet, pulling the strings which turned the light on. It was rather claustrophobic. Dust had built up after what seemed like years of not being cleaned. You grabbed the vacuum and left the closet, and went over towards the front desk. You started there, and moved towards the movie room then upstairs. You were hyper aware of your surroundings, you couldn't help but feel on edge after last night. Every tap on the windows or hum of the electricity made you feel sick.

Once you were done vacuuming, out started to mop the floors. You wanted to listen to music, but you were afraid of not hearing if someone was lurking inside. You wanted to know what was happening around you.

After you did the basics, you sat down for a bit and wondered if you could get away with leaving the theatre like this. It's not like your boss comes in everyday.

You eventually decided to leave the place as is, you didn't feel safe being in there any longer. You instantly grabbed your handbag, but noticed your keys were missing and so was your phone... And wallet.

You felt bile instantly run up your throat. That awful feeling of knowing you were truly at another's mercy started to suffocate you. You panicked, looking under the desk, in the janitor's closet... Nothing. It was nowhere. You attempted to calm yourself down, saying you just misplaced it. That's all you did. There was nothing lurking around the corner watching your every move waiting to pounce and kill you.

You were fine. Just fine.

How the hell was everything missing? There's no way it all fell out when it was closed, and that it's been in the same spot since you got here.

You rushed around the building, searching everywhere for your stupid belongings. And in the middle of the already awful experience, you started to hear tapping on the windows. It was slow and intentional.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You went over towards it, moving the curtains. Nothing was there, but the bushes did move slowly. Those same, dead eyes pearing at you. That's when you realised everything you've witnessed was real.

Something was after you.

And you had no idea what the fuck it was, it definitely wasn't human. No humans neck twists like that, no human has the void-like holes, where no ounce of light can go through.

It slowly crept out of the bush, it's mangled limbs moving in unnatural, inhuman positions as it came towards the window.

It has already came in before, why the fuck was it trying to come in again? It could come in before, what now? Was there more than one? What did it want? Did it just get off on scaring you?

You stepped back, feeling like how you did the night before.

"No... No no. No." You murmured, grabbing the phone that hung on the wall. You attempted to dial the emergency services, but the lines were down. You shook your head, you had to have something to defend yourself from that... Thing. All these awful thoughts came into your mind. Of what it could do, of what it wanted.... And what it's true form was.

You heard popping sounds from the other side of the window.

"Can... You help me?"

Those distorted voices sent a shiver down your spine. That unnatural, disgusting sound.

You slowly glanced over your shoulder at the monster. It had the most awful, disgusting grin which showed all its teeth. It's disfigured head and body contorted as it started to tap on the window again.

"I... Need your... Help."

It said as it cocked its head.

"I am... Scared." It's mouth twitched wider. Both it's hands were placed on the window. Its face squished against it.

"I'm so scared."

If the situation wasn't serious, you would've laughed at the irony.

"Stay away from me!"

You yelled, grabbing a pair of scissors from the drawer. You pointed it towards the creature, even though you knew it was futile.

"Stay away from me!"

It mimicked, the dread which formed was sickening. It... Said the same thing. The two voices at once made it even more horrifying. The distorted sound triggered you more. It said things which were already unnerving, but it mimicked you in your tone, just slightly distorted was utterly mortifying. The fear you felt that night here and at home could never compare to this.

You decided that you had to get far away from this thing. You couldn't sit there forever, even another second was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and rot. A being like that shouldn't exist.

You ran up the stairs, you felt it's... Sockets following your figure, analysing every movement. You went into the bathrooms and slammed the door shut. You locked the door, then moved over to the window. You glanced outside, and saw that it was clear.

You heard fast, but light footsteps coming from outside. You knew it was toying with you. You knew it enjoyed the chase and it made you feel sick.

The tapping continued once more, but this time at the bathroom door.

"I'm scared... Why won't you help me?"

"What do you want from me?!" You screamed back, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the door.

"I'm stuck."

The more you listened to it, the more its voice sounded normal and close to human. You rapidly shook your had, murmuring to yourself.

"No, no this isn't happening."

It sounded so normal, its panic was so evident and felt real. Earlier it didn't, what was going on?!

You felt dizzy, your vision started to become slightly blurry. You collapsed onto the ground, in front of one of the bathroom stalls.. Your head thumped, the pain made you groan. You knew you had to get out, that's the only thing you could do. You weren't sure what was going on anymore. You had to get out.

You slowly stood up, holding onto the edge of the stall. You moved towards the window, contemplating how you were going to get down. There were bushes underneath, but you knew you were screwed if you landed wrong. There were no other options unless you wanted to face that thing. You slowly opened the window, attempting to be quiet just in case the... Thing will hear. To your relief it made no noise. You slowly placed your legs over, holding onto the edge tightly. You took a deep breath then pushed yourself off.

You groaned as your body hit the floor hard, causing pain to radiate through you. you groaned, knowing your body was going to be covered in bruises. You hissed as you slowly sat up. You brushed the twigs off of your shirt, then used the brick wall to attempt to help yourself up. You moved around the outside of the building, attempting to be quiet.

You knew you couldn't use your car, you had no idea how to hotwire it. The only option you had was to walk home, well, better run.

You started to sprint away, ignoring every aching muscle and joint. You gritted your teeth as you forced your legs to move. You occasionally glanced over your shoulder, and to your relief, saw nothing there. You started to slow down when you felt safer since you were further away from that thing.

You leaned over, placing your hands on your knees as you took deep breaths. You felt dizzy, but knew you had to get home. After a minute, you started to walk again. As you walked down the street, occasionally you spotted cars driving by or the really odd person or two walking by. You always held the scissors tight, regardless of how much it dug into your skin.

Eventually, you got to your home. You searched your pockets for your keys, then remembered you lost them at the theatre. You hoped that thing wouldn't find them. You went to the backyard and grabbed them from under one of the pots. You unlocked the door, then went inside.

You placed some chairs behind the front and back door under the handle. You then slipped the latch so unlocking wouldn't work. You made sure you did everything you could to prevent the thing from coming inside.

You felt relieved once you glanced around knowing that you were safe.

So you could finally have a good sleep, you went to have a warm shower. You washed away all the dirt from your skin, watching as the dirt slowly went down the drain. You sat in the warmth, soaking up the comfort from it for as long as you can. You sat in the shower for a while till the hot water ran out, forcing you to go back into the cold. Reminding you of the bitter reality you'll have to face eventually.

You got dressed then went to the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the utensil drawer. You tapped the point, dragging your finger across the blade. You wanted to make sure it'd actually be useful if you needed to defend yourself.

You locked your bedroom door, making sure the latch would be strong enough to keep anything out. The hairs on your skin were constantly standing. Every shadow and movement puts you on edge. Your own home didn't make you feel safe, only the slightest bit safer than if you were to be outside.

You walked over to your bedside drawer, then placed the knife on top of it.. You left the lamp which sat beside you on. You pulled open one of the draws and grabbed one of your old alarms since your phone was lost.

You haven't used it for so long it took a while to figure it out. Once you set it, you laid down in bed. You stared at the ceiling, getting dragged into your thoughts. You occasionally focused on shadows that danced on your walls, wondering if one of them will ever be the creature which tortured your emotions hours before.

----

[wisteria-lodge]

Could you elaborate further on your opinion of Cursed Child? What do you think of Delphini's existence? I personally really like its concept but not the way it was worked on

Delphi could have worked. She could have. I haven't seen the play performed, but the character on the page is interesting. She introduces herself to two lonely kids as a cool older sister type (kinda Tonks adjacent) but from the word go you (the adult viewer) is picking up on the fact that... there's something kind of off about her, something that the the fifteen-year-olds aren't noticing. There's some good tension there.

But, okay. If you're going to build a mystery out of "Who is Delphi Diggory really, and what does she actually want?' it needs to have a cool solution that's set up, that makes sense within the world of the story.

You're also fighting against THE fanfic trope of all fanfic tropes: two of the main characters had a previously unmentioned child who is cool, has blue-and-silver hair, and who all the main characters really like. Also, you've got to somehow deal with the fact that canon Voldemort is never characterized as someone who would ever *want* to have sex with Bellatrix.

Like, I'm sure there's some fantastic Tom fanfic out there, but Voldemort's whole metaphor is that his body isn't *him* - he's doing everything he can to move beyond it, to separate from it, change it into something that is longer *human* (and therefore mortal, and weak.) I seriously doubt he's using his body for recreation. Voldemort also seems the type to actively not want an heir: he thinks highly enough of himself that any offspring would be a potential threat, and obviously he's going to live forever. And if he ever were going to sleep with someone, Bellatrix? She's obsessed with him, and he's occasionally throwing her a crumb of attention, so she becomes even more fanatical and devoted. Letting her have his kid is giving her what she wants, it's making her more powerful. That's not a good tactical move, and Tom's too much of a sadist to throw her a bone out of pity.

Here's what I would have done. Use that detail that Delphi was a very sickly child, so sick that she couldn't go to Hogwarts. I know the deal was really that she was being hidden, but lean into it. Make it that she's the result of some spell that Bellatrix did with some of Voldemort's fingernails and maybe the horcrux that she had in her possession for a while. Delphi can be the result of magical experimentation, that almost makes her *more* of Voldemort's daughter. It also feeds into her doomed, desperate quest to get him to acknowledge her - she could legitimately think 'the only problem is that he never knew about me, if he did he would love me.' This is also the sort of reckless, desperate thing I can see Bellatrix doing, and it sets up the theme of magical experimentation (ie - Theo's extra special time turner) way better than the Scorpius thing.

Because honestly, the Scorpius thing bugs me more than the Delphi thing. In Cursed Child, the reason Scorpius Malfoy is kind of a pariah is that there's a persistent rumor that he's actually Voldemort's son because his mother travelled back in time to conceive him. I know it's there to introduce the possibility of Voldemort having a kid, period, and to make the Delphi thing look more plausible by comparison... but come on. This rumor is brought up so much during the first part of the play, it's how we're introduced to Scorpius AND how we're introduced to the conflict between Draco and Harry... and it just doesn't sell me on the world we're in. Let's run through the logic/worldbuilding problems real quick:

Why would anyone think Draco wouldn't be able to have kids? Where's that coming from? If anything the rumor should be that Astoria can't have/doesn't want to have kids because of the blood curse, and that Scorpius' real mother is Alecto Carrow or something creepy like that.

Scorpius looks exactly like Draco, so why would anyone think he wasn't Draco's son? I know that's something they were locked into, and they couldn't give Scorpius dark hair because Scorpius is described as looking exactly like Draco in the Epilogue, but maybe that's a sign that they shouldn't have gone with this particular plot line.

The new variety of Time Turner works differently than the ones we're familiar with (you can go years into the past, but only for five minutes, and you can change outcomes...) and they just BARELY work in universe... so long as they stay really rare, no one knows about them, and they're just a result of Theodore Nott experimenting in his basement. Which is honestly how the play treats them... EXCEPT for the Scorpius rumor. The Scorpius rumor means that either this kind of time turner is common enough that everyone knows about it (which is completely universe breaking, it would change EVERY THING) (and also has the additional, very funny implication that when Astoria traveled back in time to get pregnant, Voldemort only lasted five minutes. Because you can only stay in the past five minutes.) OR it means that people are accusing Astoria of going back in time and sleeping with Voldemort... without any idea of how she could potentially even have done that.

This whole thing is so unnecessary. Make it so that people are giving Scorpius a hard time because his father was a Death Eater. Done.

If you want to set up Delphi's backstory, easy. Just make Bellatrix a character. It is baffling that she is literally brought up once in this entire play. We have flashbacks, we have long scenes with talking portraits, we have alternate universes - including one where Voldemort won, and Bellatrix is presumably alive and doing fine. Just stick her in one of those.

I know the ask wasn't really about this, but the Scorpius thing is just one example of worldbuilding that legitimately makes this play hard to understand. If the details of this Astoria/Voldemort rumor don't make sense, then I don't know if I'm supposed to agree with Harry (who thinks this is a ridiculous rumor that will blow over given time) or Draco (who thinks it's a harmful, persistent rumor that he needs to do something about.) When I was first reading the play I thought it was supposed to be kind of ambiguous that Delphi was 100% Voldemort's daughter... like maybe Bellatrix had done something magical, or maybe she cheated on Rodolphus with some rando, and he was just telling himself (and the little girl he's raising) this particular story in order to save his own pride. I mean we know these characters and this world pretty well at this point. It's no wonder that so many fans got alienated by what sort of feels like a... lack of attention.

[luveline]

Omg Jade, I’ve been LOVING the asf resurgence ☺️☺️ It hits my heart in all the right ways!!

I was wondering if would please write something showing more of the burrow from asf? Would love to see Molly (alongside Fred ofc!) doting on the reader. Maybe she feels poorly during a gathering? Just an idea - no pressure ofc to respond or to go in this direction. Thank you either way!!! 😊

tysm for ur request!! sorry this took me a whole month ♡ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw mental health issues/ poor eating habits

The popcorn is greasy between your fingers. You look down at a slightly burned kernel without much feeling, giving it a squeeze to listen to the styro-foamy groan as it breaks. 

The crumbs fall down the front of your hoodie. The mess is enough to make you feel something other than tired, blinking to attention while you pick tiny bits from your tummy. 

Fred's hand reaches over to help. "Whoops," he says, flicking them off of the sofa onto the rug. 

"Don't do that," you chastise without any heat, nudging his knee with yours. "Your poor mum will have to clean it up." 

"No she won't." 

"Are you going to hoover before we go?" you ask. 

Fred puts his hand on your thigh for an unapologetic feel. "No. She'd be offended." 

It's hard to describe how something as simple and as normal as Fred's hand on your leg can make you feel. Suddenly, you aren't alone in your head, feeling all sorts of awful. There's someone with you. 

Fred often laments (with sympathy) that you live in the past. He's not wrong. There are things that haunt you without pulling punches, stuff that makes you feel sick even though you can't remember how it all went anymore. It's like your body has caught hold of the way you felt at the time and is now throwing you into the deep end, no warnings. 

George takes the popcorn bowl from your lap, a lazy heist from his positioning on the floor. He, Ron, and Harry play a game of exploding snap that smells like no one's winning by your shoes. 

Bill and Fleur sit on bean bags by the fire, their legs interlocked, and the baby (who isn't a baby anymore, actually, a brand new toddler) waddles around the room in footie pyjamas. Every time you see Victoire, you wonder if she's an easy baby, and if you'd be a good mom. If you're even capable. 

Things tend to twist from there. Capable in any capacity? You're sure there are a hundred different things that Fred wants from you that he will never be able to have. A girlfriend who doesn't shut down when she's worried. A partner who pulls their weight. You let him down pretty much every day though he doesn't say, in your uselessness. You're awful. He deserves better than someone who's clinging to the bad things that happened to her (though you don't want to cling, you can't seem to make yourself stop). 

Fred's hand abandons your thigh. He sits up in his seat on the sofa to wrap his arm behind your neck instead, encouraging your head under his. With the side of his chin pressed to your temple, he doesn't say a word. 

Molly appears from the garden with a handful of fresh lemon balm. "Who wants a cup of tea?" she asks. 

Her eyes flicker straight for you. Fred told you once that Harry used to be her favourite child. It confused you —family is much more than blood, but still, there's so many to choose from and they're all brilliant, so why Harry? 

He was the one who needed the favouritism most, Fred says. Mum has a built-in pain detector. She knows when people need love. 

"We'll have a cup of tea," Fred says, rubbing your shoulder. 

"Obviously," Molly says, though what's obvious about it escapes you. "Anyone else?" 

There's a chorus of requests, most of which you can't keep straight. Molly's brilliant, she doesn't miss a beat. "Lovely," she says with a smile. 

"I'll come help you, mum," George says, using your legs as a brace to get up. 

You kick him without force in the leg. He turns to you, shooting you an adoring, saccharine smile with hands at his chest curved into a heart shape. 

"He's in a mood today," Fred says. 

Your sleeves bunch under his hands with every upward swipe. You sit there for a while feeling off. Something is wrong, some pit sucking you in, but nothing's happened. It's been a while since you felt this suddenly sick —you're better than you were, but you aren't better. 

"It's okay," Fred says, like he can read your mind. His reassurance kisses warm over your cheek. "Do you want to go home?" 

He doesn't seem upset with you. If anything, he's chipper, like he'd love to go home with you. It's a charade for your benefit to erase the guilt that comes with yanking him out of family time, and you don't fall for it. 

Yet you can't make yourself smile. You aren't as good of an actor as he is. "No," you mumble, pulling away from his loving embrace to meet his eyes. 

He inches closer, hand sliding down your arm. 

"I love you," he says very quietly. He's at risk of being heard by three different brothers, each of which might rip him to shreds for being as whipped as he sounds. 

You don't not want to say it back. Sometimes it's hard. Fred isn't telling you for a parroting, anyhow, and he doesn't care when you fail to answer. 

"Let's go help make tea," he says, standing up. You don't want to move, but you'd rather not stay by yourself. You've no choice but to follow him through the living room and into the kitchen. 

"Hi, dearie," Molly says. You realise she's talking to you, not Fred. "You look like you need something to eat. I'll make you something sweet, how does that sound?" 

It sounds like a bad idea. "That sounds great." 

She nudges George off with his tray of tea to stand in front of you. "There's a good girl," she says, squeezing your elbow. "Fred says you're not eating, but you were fine at breakfast. Feeling better?"

"Mum," Fred says, sending you an apologetic look. "Sorry, I don't mean to gossip about you–" 

"No, it's okay. It's nice, it's… a privilege to be worried about," you say, though you wish he wouldn't. 

Molly shakes her head, ginger kinks swishing over her shoulders. "It's not a privilege, lovely. That's just what family does, mm? You worry about Freddie, he worries about you, and I'll worry about both of you." 

"You don't have to worry about us, mum." 

"I know. It's a privilege, though, to be the one worrying," Molly says, offering you a gentle smile. 

"Right," you say. 

"So stop pretending you're okay and have a seat. Freddie, you better go and get her one of your blankets, I think." 

Fred grins and exits the kitchen quickly to avoid giving you time to protest. Ever a people pleaser, you sit down at the table in one of the chairs with a tall back. Molly puts down a cup of tea in front of you, swiftly followed by a plate of biscuits, a toasted, buttered currant scone, and a blueberry muffin sliced down the middle. 

That's what gets you. The muffin cut in half, paper peeled away. Molly has no reason to like you; you make Fred happy, but you know you've made him so, so sad, sometimes. You've weighed him down. You're not the best he could've had, but his family don't care. He doesn't care. He loves you enough to breeze into the kitchen with a throw blanket, wrap it around your shoulders, and nestle a kiss behind your ear. 

You scramble to grab his arms rather than let him stand again. He startles at first, but he recovers, and his arms curl around your front with enthusiasm that can't be faked. 

"I love you," he murmurs. Words slid together like he's tipped them out, impossible to deny. "Try not to wind yourself up, alright? It's a normal day. The only people who matter are you and me, yeah?"

"Yeah," you say through a lump. 

"I'll be just in the living room if you need me," Molly says. 

"Thanks, mum," Fred says, perching his chin atop your head. 

He waits for her to leave and plants a kiss on the highest point of your cheek. When you smile, he tracks them all over. Kiss to your head, your ear, the soft line of your jaw.

"Do you want to talk about something? Or should we think about other things?" he asks. 

It's a strange, coddling way to ask if there's something in particular that's upset you, but it's nice to be coddled. Truthfully, there's nothing concrete that hurts. A little bit of everything. The world is busy and life is hard and people aren't always kind, and you'll always be unbalanced by that. Luckily, Fred's there to hold you up, together, whatever you need. 

"Do you want half of my muffin?" you ask. 

"I'm eyeing up your scone, honestly." 

"You can have it if you want it." 

Fred hugs you tightly. "And deprive you? No way. I'll settle for the muffin if you feed it to me," he says hopefully. 

You twist in your chair, holding a bit of the muffin up for him to eat.

"I love you," you say. In a horror story, a nightmare, your nearly constant thoughts, he scoffs in your face. 

Fred swallows roughly. "I know. S'why you're gonna let me have half the scone, too." 

It's awfully cheesy, but you'd give him much more than a scone. You'd give him anything he asked you to give.

"Greedy," you say. 

"I resent that, ghost."

[vodkacheesefries]

big spoilers for dragon age the veilguard from early access players beneath the cut.

Also lengthy rambling/opinions.

proceed at thine own peril

In theory I'm okay with things being boiled down into a handful of simple questions to help new incoming players establish a background for their game.

HOWEVER, we're only getting three, and those are:

Did your Inquisitor disband/keep the Inquisition?

Did they vow to save/stop Solas?

Who did they romance?

That's it. This is. A choice.

I get it. it's been 10 years since Inquisition came out and longer since DA2 and DAO. A lot of people probably haven't played the early games, and there are hundreds if not thousands of choices across all three games that including them in Veilguard would be difficult.

But there are a handful of choices/decisions that it is absolutely wild to me that they aren't including in Veilguard's questionnaire. At the bare minimum I was hoping for the following:

What was the fate of your Grey Warden?

What was the fate of your Hawke?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did your Inquisitor disband/keep the Inquisition?

Did your Inquisitor vow to save/stop Solas?

That's it! Only two more questions than we already have, and two of them are the same as the ones we're getting. All of the important story choices, and small choices that you could make in the prior games boil down to the fate of your character in that game so there's no need to get more detailed than that.

For example, obviously if your Warden survived the final battle, the dark ritual took place, so there's no need to ask more about it. Obviously if Hawke was left in the fade, they didn't go to Weisshaupt, and Alistair/Loghain/Stroud stayed in the Fade. Obviously if Morrigan drank from the well of Sorrows, your Inquisitor isn't going to be linked to Mythal, but Morrigan is.

Those feel like arguably the most important story beats from the previous games and I feel like that still keeps it simple enough and doesn't rely on importing potentially thousands of choices you made across the three prior games, while still explaining just enough without having to explain too much to new players.

(side note: I suppose if we want to get extra fancy we can add a question for "Who did your Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor romance" because callbacks to those relationships have always been fun, especially if we're getting any sort of cameo of past companions. Which at this point, I don't think we are.)

As far as past player characters returning, I get why that's hard to do because there's so many different endings for the Warden, and even Hawke post Inquisition. Would I like for them to show back up? Sure. But I'm okay if they don't.

TBH the most I've been hoping for is that maybe somewhere in a level/mission you're on, maybe with Davrin, you could find an easy to miss crumpled up letter/codex entry on it talking about how if your Warden was still alive they found a cure and disappeared into a well deserved retirement and to not bother them with anymore end of the world bullshit ever again.

Hell, I'd even accept it if it mentioned they'd started hearing the Calling and went to the Deep Roads and they're sorry they couldn't do more. I just want to know what happens to them. It doesn't have to be a pivotal plot point or anything.

Crumbs.

I am begging for crumbs, Bioware.

PS: I know it sounds like I'm being incredibly critical of the game, but I am actually very excited for it and I do think I'll enjoy it, despite any ties, or lack thereof, to prior games. I'm a big fan of being critical of the things you enjoy.

Now if you want me to get really critical because I don't like something, ask me how I feel about Inquisition because WHOOO boy I could give a Ted Talk about how much I dislike Inquisition.

[comfortless]

write swagger. anything for swagger. anything. i’ll take a crumb, I’ll take medic x swagger i’ll take any overdone trope give me something for this man!!!! i love u and your writing sm syl i’m sorry this isn’t a köni request but..

Spin Cycle

Roland “Swagger” Kaminski x mercenary fem!reader

CONTENT / WARNINGS: 18+ minors do not interact! violence, enemies -> lovers, implications of sex (no actual smut), swagger points a gun at your head sorry, reader may have a gun kink.

i hate(love) you, lele!! i listened to this guys voice lines so many times they’re just embedded in my brain at this point. lil rushed & not proofread, so there may be some mistakes, sorry!

wc: 3k

Cold. Wet.

This isn't the weather for a battle. This isn't a night to die. But some lack taste in the intricacies of being victimized, and as her sight settles on the enemy maneuvering through the war torn warehouse, she realizes he certainly doesn't have a preference in which way he's ripped apart. The mask covering his face tells her everything she needs to know, he's dead already, hiding beneath an ugly cover to conceal his identity; an unknown, evil thing in her eyes. She would be doing him a favor. Mercy for the man marching around wearing a face not his own.

She slowly positions her pistol, quietly aiming as her finger brushes the trigger. Once, to prepare herself for more blood on her hands. Twice, to make peace with his creator in his stead— he wouldn't have the time nor the delicate nature for it. Thrice, because she likes the feel of the cold metal against her fingertip; it grounds her, tethers her to the reality of what she’s here to do. Lucky numbers be damned, it was all for the thrill of it.

She pulls the trigger and the bullet rips from the barrel as she bites her lip.

To her chagrin, it buries itself in the wall behind her target. To her relief, it definitely struck. The man buckles to the dirtied floor with a groan, gloved hands reaching out to apply pressure to the gash in his calf. It's not enough to kill, they both knew it, but it would put the buck down long enough for her to reload and fire a shot right into his brain. She wonders if she could tell what his face actually looked like when his mask was blown off and gray matter spackled  the floor behind him.

"Knew you were in here, you slimy bastard."

The voice pulls her from her thoughts, and if she were forced to have any sort of virtue left she could be honest and embrace the fact she isn't the most coordinated mercenary out there. Her pistol clatters to the floor. She quickly slips further into the dark, not bothering with her lost weapon for the time being as she positions herself behind a crate to hide.

"Your aim is shit. Your hands must be shaking."

The man's voice continues to rasp. He's taunting her, wants to lure her out. There's something playful about his voice that sends a swell of unease from her chest to the pit of her stomach. The man had just been shot, and that surge of confidence couldn't stem from a wounded man unless he had some sort of a plan. She's been here so many times with so many different flavors of prey that the warning signs aren't lost on her.

She swears she hears the click of him replacing his magazine, the static of his radio, the sound of ripped fabric and a lightening quick application of a makeshift tourniquet. The thought that the gunfire gave out her position crosses her mind.

"Come out, fucking coward."

She's been here so many times, in the dead of night, playing this one-sided game of cat and mouse. She's seen blood, felt the sting of a bullet carving it's way through her, and she's never been afraid. Not until tonight.

This isn't a night to die, yet she's pissed off the fucking grim reaper.

A church bell rings out in the distance, some small mercy. It plants the seed of an idea and she follows the path her mind carves with her hand grasping for a knife at her belt. The knife rips through the quiet air of the warehouse, coming to a clatter some three meters behind him after she tosses it. The man takes the bait, fires several shots in the direction of the noise as she quietly finds her escape. Delivered from death by the heavenly portal of a broken window.

But when it comes to the intricacies of being victimized, it's very rare that things play out so simply. Hunting is a messy task, and one slip up can so quickly prove that prey often have fangs, too.

Her target, some Polish elite soldier, Roland Kaminski, isn't a buck at all. Bucks are easy, they're skittish and stupid. You fire off a shot at one of them, they buckle or prance back into the plush foliage of the forest for cover. When thundering footsteps can be heard in the dark, just past the safety of the broken window, she realises she's not dealing with another deer. Shes got a frenzied boar at her heels.

She's defenseless, her arms scattered in the darkness of the warehouse the boar is charging from, and she finds she lacks the will to break her ankle jumping down onto the pavement below. This is the line where the hunt becomes a proper fight. Her pulse beats like the thunder tearing apart the sky above her, every muscle in her body pulled tight like a spring waiting to maul her impending threat.

The fight never comes.

One moment, he's charging through the wreckage inside like a behemoth with a taste for human flesh, and the next he's simply staring at her while he's shrouded by the dark. It's almost comical, really, her thoughts flood with pictures of horror mascots as she teeters on the windowsill, staring right back into the wide, dark eyes of his mask. They remain in a stasis for a moment, both breathing shallow, both watching the other. Then, he does something that surprises her. Surprises and infuriates her.

He pulls his radio up to his mask, breathes out a heavy sigh as the sound of static cuts through this pair's silence. The grim reaper has the audacity to pretend his frustration over arches her own, and she's gritting her teeth wondering how likely it was she could free his esophagus from the column of his neck with her mouth alone.

She feels his gaze rove over her, lingering along the empty holster at her hip and the garter on her thigh.

"Target's down."

He's lying to his team, lying because he pities her, and she can't think of a thing more insulting. A mercenary is no different than a prostitute, money for flesh, pain or pleasure. She's aware of it, she's seen her fellow mercs gunned down without a second thought from their enemies. She's heard the men in her company boast of ravaging paid women without thought. For some time, she's considered they may all be beasts, but the grim reaper is sparing her. Sparing her, because he doesn't see her as a threat at all. A defenseless woman clinging to a broken window like it's the only tether she has to the world at all. He's no boar, no blood-stained reaper, just a person. He doesn't see her as pounds of flesh to march into battle before him. She sees humanity, and he sees an insect unworthy of his bullet.

"I tried to kill you," she breathes out, enunciates each word careful and slow as she tries to get a read on him, praying her assumption isn't true. There's the creaking of broken glass beneath the toes of her boots as she pivots herself to fully face him, standing in the window with the backdrop of a dark sky threatening violence. The man shrugs his broad shoulders, turns away, as though nothing has even happened. Her stare drifts to the tourniquet on his calf, and it dawns on her that he isn't even limping.

"I wouldn't even need a minute with you." He sounds bored. The pity stung enough. She wasn't just a hapless rabbit in his eyes, she was a gnat. A nuisance to top it all off. "Who are you working for?"

She falls silent, teetering on the ledge of the windowsill in silent debate. The jump would end in injury, but the darkened sky and the rain could cover her. There’s a building less than half a mile away and if she just made it there then—

“Answer.” Roland’s gruff voice sounds out in the quiet warehouse again, and she hazards a glance up just in time to catch those dead eyes of his peering at her from over his shoulder.

“I don’t know.”

“No?”

“I don’t have a name.”

Roland merely huffs at that, rolls his shoulders a little. He’s confident, a bit too arrogant for a man that’s been shot. She may have seen a boar, and he may have seen an ange, because he has the audacity to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder with a gentle swipe of his thumb along her neck.

Tells her, “Get lost.”

Follows it up with, “Let us never meet again.”

She doesn’t die on this frigid, rainy night, but a part of her is lost with him. Lost with a man that looks at her as though she had tiny angel’s wing, buzzing at her back. Lost with a man who’s entire existence is an enigma to her. Shoot to kill, and she hadn’t. Shoot to kill and not ever would she again, not to him, not to the man who gave her mercy when she deserved none.

— — —

She finds herself working alongside the Polish GROM. Realistically, she had returned sopping wet to her shabby hotel and spent hours researching how to work her way in. She doesn’t know why, but she’s found herself enthralled in a shadow, worshipping him in her own way. All for a chance to see her should-be reaper. And she’s no elite, can barely keep her trigger finger steady, but supplementing for a fallen soldier is the standard and she’s got enough falsified experience under her belt to look the part of a proper gunman.

It pays enough to keep her afloat until the next thing piques her interest or her contract ends, whichever comes first. Her room is simple, a barren mattress and dark walls, a concrete floor. It doesn’t feel homey, but no place ever does nowadays. Small blessings are found in the fact she doesn’t have to share the space, it’s hers and hers alone.

She spends her first few hours inspecting the place for bugs, then takes to staring up at the ceiling, listless, because what the hell had made her so impulsive? Roland could have already had his head blown clean off by anyone else by now. Did she even want to see him? To choke him with his own words or thank him for his kindness?

All of this uprooting driven by impulsivity for a man who told her not to meet him again and yet she’s here, walking about the compound like she truly belongs.

She should have cut her hair, tried to make herself look different from the trembling mouse on the ledge that night, but a part of her wants him to see her. Recognize her, bring him down from that gilded throne of his where women like her are just nuisances instead of a proper challenge.

Only, she’s not a challenge. Not at all, because the second she meets him in the stairwell her mind starts swimming and all she can do is stare. He looks a bit tired, likely having just returned from some dreadful mission, even wearing all black he’s covered in sprays of dust, the denim of his trousers painted darker in some places, blood.

“Ja jebię.”

He hadn’t forgotten.

His breath sounds shaky, and she’s not sure if it’s because the gas mask in its proper place or if he’s actually surprised, startled. If anything could shake him down from his pedestal she imagined meeting the woman who tried to kill him once again would do it.

“How’s your leg?”

“Better than your aim, pizda.”

She imagines that he would probably like nothing better than to put a bullet through her right then. The man merely laughs, something breathy and low. She’s surprised him, probably both startled and impressed that she even had the balls to face him again. She likes that, likes that little laugh, that his voice isn’t angry, that he’s playing with fire just as much as she is.

“What are you doing here?”

“Contract,” she states simply, not bothering to hide the way her gaze rakes over his body in the yellow haze of fluorescent lighting. “Just a few months, filling in a gap.”

He mutters something under his breath, a string of Polish and French that she doesn’t quite catch. She knows that he knows she’s infatuated, taking to follow after a wild coyote like a house pet.

It’s a dirty word, infatuated; dangerous in a way that scares her more than facing down the barrel of a gun.

Roland takes a step towards her, brushes her hair from her face with a touch too rough and leans in close to look at her, inspect her as though she’s not even really here, some figment of his vile imagination. She just… lets him. Despite her better judgement she lets him grip at her face like she’s nothing but putty in his hands.

“Here to kill me?” He asks his question as he retreats from her and drops his hands to his sides, staring at her as though she’s not an implant in his force, but an implant on the planet itself.

“Not this time.”

He gives her a tilt of the head and a grunt in response before brushing past in a hurry.

— — —

The following morning, she wakes to several rapid knocks at her door. Sounding just impatient enough to pull her from her sleep with her heart fluttering like a small bird in her rib cage. She readily hops out of bed and dresses before turning the knob to reveal something she didn’t expect— Roland. It’s the first times she’s seen him without his gas mask, but she recognizes him immediately. He’s more handsome when he doesn’t look the part of a famished buzzard seeking out carrion.

“Kaminski.”

“Swagger,” he corrects and she can’t help but laugh at the usage of his callsign. She wants to know how he got stuck with that, something so embarrassing it makes him sound as though he’s some teenage boy desperate to fit in or perhaps even a pirate, not the man she sees before her.

“We aren’t on the field.”

“Today we will pretend.”

He grabs her arm in the very same boorish way he had grabbed at her face just yesterday, and leads her down an empty hallway in silence. Each step seems to echo louder than the last. She wonders for half a moment if he does intend to kill her, hazards a look up at him expecting to see some flame of gruesome determination in his eyes only to be met with a calmness that makes her reconsider.

Today isn’t a day to die, either, it seemed.

He leads her to a room of bulletproof glass and well-placed targets. Pulls his gun from his holster after inspecting that she hadn’t thought to bring her own. She feels silly when his touch goes to prod at her hip, dips along the waistband of her trousers to seek out a weapon that just isn’t there. She’s ill-prepared and now her face feels hot all while Roland didn’t seem to have so much as a care.

“I’ll teach you to shoot,” he huffs as he steps behind her and places his gun in her hands, an ugly thing she recognizes to be a SIG P226. The metal feels cold and heavy in her hands, but she handles it well enough. It doesn’t particularly help that one of his arms curls around her middle to keep her steady. It’s even worse that one hand remains splayed over hers as she holds the gun.

Shooting when you’re in a desperate situation is difficult enough. The thought that death could be approaching doesn’t keep most grounded, not her at least. It makes her shaky. This is far worse. The man is so close she can smell him, gunpowder and something pungent and clean like mint. She feels his warmth cover her back, his fingers digging a bit into her side.

“I’m ready.”

He grunts in response, maneuvering her a bit closer to a small window carved out in the glass.

“Then shoot.”

So, she does. She misses, of course, and she feels even more silly when he mutters something into her shoulder and deliberately moves and angles her arm properly. The only thing good is that the gun’s recoil is soft, because if she were pushed any further against him she may very well melt down into putty.

Again and again she takes aim and fires at the brightly colored target through the window. After what feels like hours she’s finally hit some place that makes Roland give her an appreciative pat to her tummy.

“I’m improving.” She feigns his confidence, puffing out her chest a little in pride.

“Are you?”

He steals the gun from her hand and draws away to face her properly. There’s a tension she can’t place, something strange in the flicker of his eye.

“You saw—“

Her words are cut off when the man tackles her to the floor, covering her entirely as he pins her from either side. A sharp intake of oxygen is stolen as her spine tingles in pain from the sudden force. She yelps, he laughs, and none of it is funny because he’s still holding a loaded fucking gun. Only, worse, when he presses the muzzle against her cheek and uses his free hand to fix her wrists to the cold floor beneath her.

He tuts at her when she doesn’t try to fight him off, only looks up at him with wide-eyes and parted lips, a face too warm to only depict fear. If he didn’t know before, he knows now. She catches a mischievous glimmer in his eyes right before she tilts her head to kiss the cold steel clutched tightly in his fingers.

Roland stiffens above her for a moment, every muscle in his body pulled taut, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering.

“Not pizda,” he whispers as he clicks the safety back on and shifts to holster the weapon. “You are like a…”

“Ange?”

“Non,” he laughs. “Aniołku.”

If she didn’t know before, she knows now.

— — —

Any training session is spent with Roland.

Every mission they’re tethered to one another.

Any free time she finds yourself having is spent with him, even seeking him out herself just as often as he comes pounding at her door.

It feels both natural and absurd, sharing meals with the man she almost murdered, covering him as he covers her, both finding themselves less and less willing to be on their own as the days pass by. The progression just doesn’t halt, a train plowing off track, the man has his blunt talons curled into her and she just doesn’t have the sense to beat him back because she knows she’s got her teeth embedded just as deeply into him.

It doesn’t even come as a surprise when she starts her mornings peeling herself away from him, still sleeping peacefully in her bed. His room lacks taste— too barren, too bogged down with well-oiled metal and violence. She’s spruced hers up in the free time she has with small items, things she can pack up and carry with her to whichever side she finds herself pulled to next.

The thing she keeps most sacred, however, is a little photograph of him, one he had insisted on her keeping on the bedside table, despite being in flesh, wrapped tightly around her each and every night.

She picks it up, turns it over in her hands a few times before the weight of a heavy hand splays itself out across her middle, languidly tugging her back down.

“Stay,” he murmurs, someplace lost between dreaming and waking.

“Just for a bit,” she whispers in reply, nestling close, curling against his chest.

“Forever, aniołku.”

With a soft inhale, she falls back against him in a tangle of limbs and warmth, a part of her lost to the fantasy of permanence.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

ange: angel (French)

Ja jebię: fuck me

pizda: cunt

non: no (French)

aniołku: angel

[ridreamir]

Short Drayton Imagines (Set 1)

Warning! These are Post-DLC Imagines! I won't really be spoiling much plot-wise but in case I say anything spoiler-y I'm going to include a page break-- read with your own caution! There's a hint of Kieran Jealousy in here haha

You aren't really close friends, per se, it's just that he's taken to inserting himself into your life at random. If you ever find yourself in his neck of the woods, it's more than likely that he'll pop out from nowhere and try to distract you from getting your work done. You are colleagues at the very least, being the champ of his little organization and all.

"Hey sport!" or some variation is the only warning you'll get that you're about to be dragged into some whirlwind and might as well either run as fast as you can or resign yourself to being at the mercy of Drayton's whims for the day.

Yes, he is always scheming. People might look down on him for being laid back, but he's still got the energy to plot things it seems.

...It's not that he's philosophically against bad grades or anything, but you're a little too high-strung about being perfect and performing all the time. At least, that's what he thinks. You've been the best at everything for so long that he's not sure if it's just your nature or an obligation that everyone else has set upon you. You need to learn to relax! Who better to teach you than the Drayster himself? It's not like he takes anything seriously anymore. (lol) (Maybe he's projecting, a little. He knows a thing or two about expectations and pressure being put on a person to achieve excellence, even if that's not what they really want.)

Plenty of his lackeys have obviously figured out that he's got some sort of thing going on, what with how easily he drops what he's doing just to go pester you. Even if that means abandoning his snacks and actually cleaning himself off to look somewhat presentable. The fact that he cares to wipe a couple crumbs off his chest is enough to turn heads. Drayton isn't the type to mind what anyone thinks.

You're lucky the dorms require a digital key to get in, and that he can't be bothered to break in (though he probably could pull some strings if he really wanted). He's followed you back to the dorms after a long day and ignored the hall monitors barking at him to get back to his own just to play around and snoop through your stuff. It's... kind of like finding a really lazy Beartic rummaging through your garbage.

He doesn't really need a comfortable bed, to be honest. He's happy to drag you into a foot of snow and burrow there. He can settle anywhere secluded, as fun as it is to watch people from afar. He needs peace and quiet to sleep.

Artificial glaciers or not, the cold is still biting, but he's impervious to it somehow. He'll have his skin exposed for hours and have nothing more than a slight flush to his pale skin. You, on the other hand, have little choice in the matter. He knows you've dealt with worse, being a seasoned adventurer and all, so he doesn't really feel all too bad about hogging all your warmth to himself. ...If you were actually cold, he wouldn't be so cruel. You're dressed appropriately, and you have your Pokemon if you absolutely need. You can handle a few moments out in the snow. Your little friend is a teeny bit upset with him. So's his sister, so there's nothing new there. But he has to admit that he's a little smug about how 'close' he can get to you and loves watching the pipsqueak try to stomp down his temper. It goes something like "Hey there buddy~." And an arm slung lazily slung around your shoulder. Not that you have any idea that Kieran is both behind you and seething at Drayton. It's just too easy to get to him, but think of it as payback. He's forgiven of course, but he still put you all through some rough stuff. You especially. Drayton still loves to mess with Carmine, sure, but she's also been on his case about how he's been latching onto you recently. Maybe it's because she knows how jealous her brother gets, but he thinks she just wants you all to herself. Too bad for her, he got to you first. Well, not exactly, she met you before him, but she had her chance! Now you're the bestest of buds and she can't do nothin about it. You've got lots of friends back at 'home'. He knows he can't always capitalize on your time, and he backs off when he sees you actually needing space, but they're not here to stop him. You're his bud, all his.

[neonscandal]

Can I ask from this ask game : https://www.tumblr.com/toomanyfandomsthings/749729499738996736/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-tell-you?source=share

No. 2, 10, 11, 12, 15 for SatoSugu, BakuDeku, AshEiji and MatchaBlossom.....Thanks 🌻

Hello, friend 🧡 I love asks like these because I have to put so much more creative thought into them haha so thank you for asking. 🌻 I also love the idea that we don't need to know who the best cook is because it's very apparent in all of these ships 😂

What their love letters look like: Selfies. Constant selfies. Mission selfies. Bored between mission selfies. Words aren't always needed but every pic has an implied "I'm still here, we're still The Strongest."

What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other: Gojo is so incredibly lacking in self awareness that he is impervious to the idea that anything he watches is at all embarrassing. They watch The Great British Bake-Off together and Gojo always loudly laments when the objective involves something savory instead of sweet.

What their first impression was of each other: Gojo thought "Bangs." Geto thought "The audacity of this guy."

What they would change about each other: Gojo wouldn't change a thing, even the things that might feel a bit irksome, things work the way they are and he's happy, so happy. Geto has a laundry list of things he wish he could change: Gojo's feral gremlin energy, his constant sweet tooth, the brash way he speaks which always embarrasses Geto but he accepts these things, too. He likes to pull them out in a fight though (in jest).

What their love letters look like: Twin. Merch. Midoriya would give Bakugo the last of some exclusive All Might merch even though it would pain him. Bakugo would go to the ends of the earth to make sure Midoriya wouldn't go without.

What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other: Hero documentaries, biopics and, of course, the midnight release of any new All Might movies. Bakugo hides that he is also a Real Heroes of Musutafu trash reality tv watcher. 👀 As nosy as he is, its a guilty pleasure.. but not a secret he keeps well.

What their first impression was of each other: Midoriya was timid and reserved and Bakugo was loud and a bit abrasive so, despite being rough around the edges, Midoriya knew immediately "Kacchan sugoi!". Bakugo wanted Midoriya to be an extra so. bad. He was the only person bold enough to also want to be All Might when they played Heroes vs Villains on the playground and, while that initially grated him, over time it won him over. Man, was that short lived.

What they would change about each other: They both find one another to be self-sacrificial idiots but are completely incapable of seeing how that's just another one of their similarities. Bakugo also wishes Midoriya could be less of an insufferable fanboy but only because he, himself, could never be so brave to be so aggressively different or outside of the norm.

What their love letters look like: Postcards, handwritten letters, tokens of their travels both far and wide. Just the bread crumbs they leave and scatter for one another until they can unite once more. Eiji scrapbooks them but he'd never tell Ash.

What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other: They're always behind when it comes to cult classic shows. But they really enjoy Stranger Things. I think Ash, in particular, has a soft spot for Joyce Byers but he'd never say that out loud. Eiji also suspiciously watches the evolution of Steve Harrington's hair as Ash's mysteriously changes in tandem. Eiji would never tell Ash about any of the anime he watches whenever he has some alone time. Ash already accuses him of being more interested in the comics than the news, he would never hear the end of it. But he's super pumped about the Blue Lock movie and rationalizes that it's basically like watching football on Sunday when he's inevitably caught binging the anime ahead of the cinematic release.

What their first impression was of each other: They were both intrigued by one anothers' fearlessness. Eiji never shied away from the big, bad gang leader. Ash was a beacon of nonchalant confidence when Eiji was at a point of listlessness and self doubt. They were both intrigued.

What they would change about each other: Eiji would change Ash's.. morning disposition in a heartbeat. Something about having to fight someone just to get them out of bed is so unnerving, especially as their breakfast gets cold in the interim. Ash, on the other hand, wouldn't change a thing. There's a very delicate balance between them that enables him to tease Eiji about absolutely everything. Why risk jeopardizing that??

What their love letters look like: Lighthearted challenges to determine innocuous things between them. "First person to the couch gets to pick the movie!" "Bet you I can piss Shadow off first!" Just little competitions to keep things interesting because they are nothing if not extraordinary and have a constant need to prove that to one another.

What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other: Joe is really passionate about cooking and competitive so he loves watching Hell's Kitchen and Iron Chef and telling Kaoru how he'd dominate on either show. Kaoru huffs and rolls his eyes half-heartedly but also has a massive crush on Mark Dacascos having been a captive audience for several seasons of Iron Chef (who wouldn't?) so he allows these selfish preferences. Also, when they're fighting, he wonders if Gordon Ramsay could, in fact, make Joe cry. Joe insists he could not.

What their first impression was of each other: Joe was a goodie two shoes who happened to be able to hold his own on a skateboard but Kaoru thought he was a bit too bashful, a bit too reserved. Kaoru was a rebel and an artist on a board before Carla took the guesswork out of everything. Even so, Joe was awe-inspired by the Cherry, the spitfire.

What they would change about each other: Kaoru wishes Joe wasn't such a needy gorilla aka that he wasn't so showy and drawing the attention of fan girls and boys alike because he gets a bit jealous. Like, "yes, you're hot. That's why we're dating now put your shirt back on, people are staring, you dolt." Somehow it never comes out that straightforward though. Re: Joe, it's infrequent but sometimes Joe wishes Kaoru would return his affection in similar measure, just as loud and proud. Even though he thinks that'd be nice, he can't help but relish in those isolated moments where Kaoru, in his own way, demonstrates his affection. Those moments where the stars align just so, the wind blows in just the right direction and all of Kaoru's walls crumble. He wears a smile so warm, so genuine that Joe thinks it is worth all the banter in between such moments.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hi, I'm not usually one to talk, I've had my account for years and never really posted anything. But I'm beyond annoyed about this freaking game. (I'm sorry I’m about to rant please forgive me 🙏🙏🙏)

Like how are you going to make a SEX GAME for 12 year olds? 12 year olds aren't even teens.....like at all to even begin with that's like 6th or 7th grade.....I haven't even really been playing the game that much just interacting with the fandom because this game gives us CRUMBS!!!! like cps should be called for what little food we are getting and at this point I'm like.....what is good about this game????? The only thing I can think of is the characters/character art and the CONCEPT of the game. There's barely a story, obviously favoritism between the Kings, already bad H scenes, bad gameplay, bad company communication with the fandom.... it's just so annoying to support them.....I heard that they have a bigger company behind them but I don't know if it's true but regardless if it is or isn't they seem to be bad at everything they have tried to do. I'm not sure how good their previous stuff was before whb but they should have thought more things out before releasing the game and made multiple things clear about how the game would work because this happening after only a year of nothing will tank this game. I only have the one on the app store (the more sfw one?) and not ero labs because I didn't know when it frost came out that they would have the app store one censored. Now I have the cards since the beginning of the game like Minnie's card and I was okay with not seeing 🍆 but now I won't be able to see or read shit or do shit with this mediocre game. I'm so annoyed cause I love the concept and the fandom and characters but holy crap do these people even know what they're doing????? Erasing everything that makes your game your game is absolutely stupid. I don't even know who to blame at this point, I'm feeling very resentful to the company for making me like the characters and having a good concept like why couldn't you just have a shitty ass concept and characters with your mediocre at best game with your even shitter management? Then I would have never even looked at this game. How do you think removing a core part of your game would affect the fandom? You will lose your core fandom just to have CHILDREN play your game? What about your other game??? Coming up with another idea??? LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE??? WHY EVEN MAKE IT A SEX GAME IN THE FIRST PLACE IF YOU WERE GOING TO DO THIS???? Obey me was good and it didn't have any of this if you started it out being sfw all together you would have been fine since you would be like every other bitch....just not as many players....why? BECAUSE YOU MARKETED A HORNY PORN GAME TO PEOPLE AND ARE NOW TRYING TO CHANGE THE THING THAT MAKES YOUR GAME DIFFERENT! WHERE DO YOU GET THE AUDACITY TO THINK PEOPLE WILL STAY AROUND WHEN THEY LOSE THE MAIN APPEAL OF THE WHOLE. FUCKING. POINT. OF. YOUR. GAME.???

Sorry for my rant I have no one to talk to about this, I'm just really upset to lose something that could have been so good but I guess corporate greed is more important than anything else 🫤 hopefully someone will rewrite it in a good ass fanfic or something ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I feel that you and many other players new and old feel the same about this company turning around to make something 12+ when it started off as a porn centered/adult only game.

They aren't the first ones to do this, and the other fandoms too had their issues about companies making a decision to turn a NSFW game into SFW even if they scrubbed it clean enough for a younger audience to play. This game and those games were never for minors and don't need to be. This space ain't for them especially given the themes and content that's in WHB just from the main story alone.

At the same time, my overall gripe about this game, is that what the transparency and expectations given to me from the company has been a huge let down. I don't think I'd mind the monthly NP's if we consistently had chapters out for the main story within the timeframe given and a good balance of cards available for the kings instead of the barely any for Satan but damn near double the amount of cards for Beel and Levi. If I were to compare this game to ObM which I don't like doing because they aren't remotely the same...is that I prefer WHB's story (collectively not just the main) whereas I only liked ObM's story up until a certain point. I only really stayed for the fandom and then I was like "yeah no" and left that fandom. Not that it matters that I left anyway because all of my progress on the OG ObM game was lost cause my old phone got damaged in the laundry machine 💀 Which brings me to the reason I don't like spending money on virtual things nor gacha. If the server shuts down, the app doesn't update with the new tech, or if an unfortunate thing happens like it did to me all of that money and time is gone. I could have invested that in something tangible/physical or just anything else.

With that being said, I've been slowly working on writing the H-scenes in my own way with my MC so there's that. It's been something on my mind for a minute now on doing...