#every day feels like torture and then on top of that i keep getting shit on over and over again in ways that have ruined me

[lovestory]

hi friends, if anyone happens to be reading this, i'm just letting you know that my blog has been intentionally wiped - something i've been contemplating doing for awhile now. to be blunt, i have been overwhelmingly suicidal for a good 6 months, so considering i log off feeling worse than when i logged on more often than not, i've decided to remove myself from social media for a long while. i need to figure out how to survive the sudden downturn in my health while doing postgrad and working full time (i collapsed out of nowhere and haven't been able to walk since before christmas, i am covered head to toe in hives 24/7 which are extremely painful and won't respond to any treatment - that’s just the tip of the iceberg, but I can’t just stop working and take care of myself like i need to) sending love ❤️

[quarterlifekitty]

The guys with a girlfriend who honestly.. kind of scares them

In different ways of course, but there’s still the underlying theme of her being rather unsettling

- @murderkittyz

I want you to know that this has been living in my mind. I love writing reader characters that are weird af and quite honestly unsettling

To be honest, writing Nikolai was really hard for this one, and I’m still not totally satisfied by it. I think he’s too willing to match your freak.

cw: some graphic descriptions of violence (not enacted, just threats/movie scenes etc)

Gaz is freaked out by how much you like the dark. You scare the shit out of him all the time because he’ll come home, thinking you’re not home because no lights are on in the house, and you’re so quiet— he is not proud to admit how many times he’s screamed when you suddenly said hi from a spot in the dark. And how whenever you get up in the middle of the night, you don’t turn the lights on. He asks you why, and you just say you don’t need them. Freaky.

There have been a handful of times where you were truly, extremely angry at Soap. And he almost pissed himself every single time because of how scary you get. Not because you scream or shake or slap his chest or anything, but because you don’t do any of it. Outside, you’re calm, you’re smiling. But it’s how you talk to him like he’s a child. “It’s okay. I’m just very, very angry at you right now”. It puts him on fucking edge. It creates this tension like you’re about to do something, that you’re gonna get back at him somehow in some way he’ll never see coming, but you don’t do anything. Absolutely fries his nerves.

Ghost is scared by how easily you tone switch, partially because he’s not really able to do so. The way you can be talking about someone from the base and say “he’s such a fucking prick bastard. I wanna rip off his balls and shove them down his throat far enough that he chokes”. And then the next day, you’ll greet the same guy like he’s an old friend. Extremely polite, pleasant, happy. It reminds Simon that he only sees the real you because you allow him that privilege.

Price is scared by your good memory. He’s used to being the one who remembers, the one who’s completely on top of things, the one who knows everything needed to know about everyone. But he’ll mention a colleague that you met once, for 10 minutes, years ago and you’ll ask “Is he still with Martha? She wanted to adopt a dog with him, a Siberian husky, and he seemed so scared of the commitment”. That’s scary. Makes him feel like he has a blind spot. Makes him wonder what you remember about him that even he doesn’t recall.

König is a difficult man to disgust and to scare. He’s seen a lot of things, and he himself is rather unsettling. But he’s scared and disgusted by some of your taste in movies. Things with long, painful torture scenes. All of the blood, flaying of skin, needles, ripping bones from flesh. It’s not so much that you enjoy these movies, but how you enjoy them. You lean against him, but not because you’re scared. You laugh in a way that you never do outside of watching a gorey scene, of someone crying on the floor with broken limbs. He shudders to imagine what you’d be like if you had his job.

Nikolai is unsettled by some of the fantasies you share with him, and how you convey them. Not things that you could really enact, just fantasies. “The other day I thought about being a mermaid— and you being a pirate that captured me to cut me up and sell my parts. But when you were about to cut me open you saw my cunt and decided to keep me as a fuckdoll instead, and fingered me right there with the butcher knife still on the table”. And you say it pretty nonchalantly. He’s honored that you trust him with these inner thoughts, and usually they turn him on completely, but it does creep him out just a little.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: A New World {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: just a short smut scene to keep you fed while I’m away 😊 Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, p in v & a, cumplay WC: 800~ F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four

The alarm to get ready for media day was promptly ignored and for the first time in his life Lando was the first one awake. You were semi-conscious, half asleep and caught in the peripherals of a dream that left you hot and needy. Your body sought out the source of hardness behind you and Lando kissed your shoulder as his morning wood pressed to your ass.

“Seven days, baby,” he murmured in your ear. The relevance was lost on you in your state as his hand lifted your leg up so his cock could tease your entrance. You were in a trance as his tip penetrated you and your eyes burst open as you felt the warmth of his cock for the first time and Charles grinned at the sight.

“Seven days,” you breathed unevenly as you realised the significance and Lando echoed the sound as his cock was coated in your wetness.

“Fuck, Charles,” Lando moaned in your ear. “She feels like heaven.”

Without the latex barrier it was like you could feel every ridge and every vein on his shaft as it dragged along your walls. With nothing coming between you, you felt everything.

You whimpered at the loss as Lando pulled out but it was momentary as Charles replaced him. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest as he grabbed your knee and pulled it over his hip, deepening the angle of his lazy thrusts as he sealed his lips over yours. Charles stole the moan that would have filled the hotel room as Lando’s finger teased your ass, using your own arousal to prep it for him.

“Putain, you’re so tight, chérie,” Charles gasped as your walls clenched around his cock and he rolled onto his back, keeping your bodies joined as you settled on top.

“Relax, baby,” Lando cooed as he knelt behind you, spreading your cheeks as he watched you ride Charles for a moment. He was almost undone by the sight of his boyfriend’s cock, bare and glistening with your juices, pumping in and out of your pretty pussy. Sense came back to him when your head fell back with a cry and your body shuddered with your orgasm and the urge to feel that for himself spurred him forward.

Light danced around your vision as Lando inched himself into you, the fullness seeming to chase the very air from your lungs as your body stretched to fit them both. Lando stilled behind you as his chest pressed to your back and he breathed with the counted marks of a man barely holding on to his sanity.

“Best decision ever,” you purred as you tortured them, slowly fucking yourself against them to see who would lose patience first.

“Agreed,” Lando chuckled in your ear. “I can feel Charles inside you, love.”

“Moi aussi,” Charles groaned, snapping his hips up and leaving you breathless.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, the feeling of weightlessness and tightening causing a short circuit in your brain.

“Holy shit,” Lando moaned as he felt your body clench around him. “Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Je vais te remplir la chatte.”

Your cunt clenched at the dirty words and you lost yourself to the feeling of their cocks filling your holes and the heat that flooded you as they came inside you.

You collapsed into a sweaty pile of tangled limbs, but Charles was strong enough to handle the added weight as his arms encompassed both you and Lando.

“Hmm,” he hummed happily behind you as he pulled out and watched his cum leak from your ass. You peeked over your shoulder to see the possessive look in his eyes before yours fluttered shut as he pushed it back in with his finger. “Pretty.”

You were happy to take the fine for being late to the media pit, nothing could bring you down from the high you were on.

Click here for the next part.

[hunnylagoon]

Take Me to War

PT2 Metaphor

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

Where do I pour my love if you take away my pen and paper?

Premise: You are starting to like your annoyingly loud neighbour more than you want to admit.

PT1 Here!

Warnings: Raunchy humour

The gym was busy on this particular day, I absentmindedly judged others for being at the gym at noon on a Saturday like they should have been doing something more interesting with their time until I realized I was at the gym at noon on a Saturday with no other plans for the rest of the day "And she's hot?" Abby asks me while she effortlessly benches something around 170 and I do nothing more than lean on the wall behind her.  

"She's hot," I answer, scrolling through her feed on Instagram like the weird little stalker I was. I hadn't gone full FBI, just looked her up and possibly watched some of her videos "It's kind of cool that I have an internet celebrity living next to me."

"Define cool," Abby props the bar back onto the saddles of the machine and sits up, taking a chug from her water bottle.

"She is cool," I defend "It's not that weird Minecraft roleplay that your grimy cousins watch, it's just like video games and vlogs, that kind of stuff."

Abby looks back at me, sweat drips from her blonde hairline and rests above her brow "How is that even a career?"

I shrug in response "Sponsorships and donations and shit." 

"Why do people throw so much money at streamers?"

"Parasocial relationships, I wrote an article about it last year which you said you read."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "You were writing a lot of articles, hard to keep up with."

"Define a lot," I mock Abby's words. I glance at a guy in between the rows of gleaming machines, their metallic frames reflecting the obnoxious glow overhead. He had been using the leg press upside down, his neck hunched over into an almost horrifying posture, his shoulders pressing against the top plate. It might've been the most normal thing I've seen in New York.

"So are you going to ask her out?"

I wrinkle my nose, thinking about it "I met her last week, I just don't think I know her that well." Within the past week that I've met her, I've been crawling out to the fire escape every morning just so her drowsy eyes could peer into my vacant skull and in recent months I had given up on dating, like a spider, I devoured my own heart.

"That's kind of the point of dating," She lays back down on the bench press "Getting to know each other."

"I think I'm too busy to date," I tuck my phone into my pocket, crossing my arms while I watch Abby. I wasn't entirely sure that I was too busy to date but I tended to consume myself entirely and make everything far more complicated than it needed to be. I still perform autopsies on conversations I've had years ago, clinging to every word like I need them to survive.

"Why don't you wanna be happy?" She asks, furrowing her eyebrows "You're always getting in your own way, is it a tortured poet type of thing?"

My breath hitches in my throat. How I hate when she's right. The last serious relationship I had was in college and even then I had sabotaged myself, I didn't know where it came from other than a nagging feeling that I wasn't deserving of the love that had been offered up to me on a shining silver platter. "I do I'm-

"Just not ready?" Abby cuts me off, finishing my sentence so perfectly as if it had been words on a script for some boring play about a woman who hates her life and won't do anything about it.

"Yeah," I say, my voice is quiet, she's got me in a box here.

"If you're not ready to date, you might as well be friends with her," She puts the bar back onto the saddles but this time, stands up after completing her reps. "You need to get out and it seems like you get along well."

"I guess," I say and Abby raises an eyebrow "No, you're right, I need to dig myself out of the grave I've dug for myself." What added to my overly apathetic mood was the season, I was so sick of February. It felt like winter had forced mold to grow on my bones to way me down onto the dirty city pavement where careless New Yorkers would gladly stomp over my body.

"How's it going with the family?" Abby is writing something down in her notes which I assume is her number of sets and reps.

"Nothing new," I answer.

She peers at me over her phone, digging for a more solid answer "Are you still sending your parents money?"

"Yes-

"Why?" Her arms dropped to her side, her phone still in one hand "You shouldn't have to play caretaker for two people who don't care about you," As true as it was, it didn't hurt any less to hear it out of my best friend's mouth. 

"It's easier said than done, those are my parents," I'm almost overtaken by a delicate drowsiness from the thoughts of leaving behind the one connection I had to my small-town life. My parents were so careless that I would run around barefoot on the road with the neighbour's kids for hours, narrowly dodging cars that flew past us like it had been a game; everything was a game back then, when I came home to my father's drunkenness, I could hide away in the treehouse and read Harry Potter until the screaming came to a stop.

I was bonded to them like I was to the stray cats who raised me. There was no getting rid of them, we ricocheted between hatred and love like the game of catch I never got to play.  

"I'm sorry," She says though I know it is ingenuine "I shouldn't get in between your family."

Abby didn't know them the same way I did. All she knew was the bloodiness of the relationship that I had cried into her arms, she didn't know how kind the wolves were after they tore me apart. The way my father would cheer for me the loudest at my soccer games and how my mother baked for me after a fight, wasn't the apology that I yearned for but the one that was shoved down my throat.

I dug through my brain to search for a way to change the topic "I saw Owen at the market yesterday and he said he wanted you to call him."

"You're fucking kidding."

My deadline had passed with no issue and I was finally blessing myself with a day where I wasn't chained to my desk. I could finally let my poor bloodshot eyes rest and for once I didn't have to drown them in eyedrops.

I was freshly out of the shower when I heard a knock at my door, Margot yelling at me to answer it. I slipped into a matching pyjama set that Abby gave me on my birthday, hurrying as fast as I could to the door. Margot's consistent screaming did nothing to aid this. 

Ellie was the last person I expected to see on the other side of the door but there she was. I couldn't help the smile that cracked onto my face "Am I the one being loud now?"

She grins at me "No-it's just that my chat has been begging for you to come back all week and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to do a stream with me?"

I looked down at what I was wearing and suddenly felt like the scrouge, all I was missing was a nightcap and a taper candle. "Can I change first?"

"Go ahead but I think this is one of your best looks."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow "You have poor judgement since you've never seen me in anything other than pyjamas."

"We should probably fix that then."

"I guess we should." I smile. I decided against changing, it wasn't like I was going out, just heading to my friend's apartment that was three feet away.

"Say as much or as little as you want," She opens the door to let me in "I owe you big time," Ellie says this like I don't want excuses to spend time for her. Like I haven't been freezing my ass off every day just to talk to her when she watches the city wake up as she prepares to rest her head. 

Ellie's apartment is more lively than the last time I visited, she's adapted some plants that are already beginning to wilt "Have these been getting any sunlight?" 

She furrows her eyebrows "No? They're fake."

"Ellie," I stifle a laugh "I'm like ninety percent sure that fake plants don't wilt."

"Nuh-uh," She walks toward one just rubs its wilting leaf between her thumb and index, it begins to crumble in her hand and she sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "I guess they are real," Ellie pokes a finger into the bone dry soil and wipes the dirt onto her pants "How much do you know about plants?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess more than you."

 She nods "Sounds about right," Ellie walks over to her sink to fill a Game of Thrones mug with water before circling back to water her plants "Drink up little buddies."

"looks like you need some sunlight too," I watch her attempt to revive the dying plants and 

"Yeah," She keeps hyper-focused on the plants but she cracks a small grin, I could've sworn her smile burnt down the library of Alexandria "I think I'm turning into a vampire."

"The sparkly kind?"

Ellie shakes her head as she stands back up to put the mug on the kitchen island "Like the guy from Sesame Street."

I wrinkle my nose "Yeah, you're looking kind of purple."

"Damn, I was worried you would notice," She smiles again as she opens the door to her office, the purple LED lights are still running but the overhead light is turned on and washes away the colour.

The second I step into the room, Ellie rushes ahead of me and almost jumps to grab the folding chair. She sits herself down and pats her fancy gaming chair for me to sit in it. "Guys, she came!" 

I stare at her, eyes wide, jaw slack. "Ellie."

"What?"

"Do you hear yourself?"

She takes a minute to think about it before nodding her head, I could see the exact moment it clicked "No, I hear it," She addresses the camera "Not like that guys but I don't know what she did with her day, not our business though."

Ellie looks at me like she's waiting for approval of her chosen words. After a moment's reflection, I answer dryly "Thanks." 

"Sorry for taking so long, I had to water some plants," She watches the chat bar scroll by, squinting before she leans back in her chair, hand running through her hair "No, that's not code for sex."

"Could be," I shrug.

"They wanna know what your name is."

"Top secret."

"Okay," She reads some more comments from the chat "Can you tell them what you do for work?"

"I'm a ghostwriter," I say, giving a little thumbs up. I saw myself in the monitor and wanted to throw my hands at myself for being so awkward.

"Spooky," Ellie smiles "She writes about people instead of interacting with them, that's why she's socially inept." She reaches for her soundboard and presses a button, sounding a prerecorded effect of a crowd cheering and laughing.

"She's never had a girl in her apartment, that's why she can't flirt." I counter as she throws her hands up, I can tell she's about to retort with something before I cut her off "So what were you doing before you kidnapped me?"

"Guys, I didn't kidnap her, she willingly walked in here without the use of excessive force and I have had many a girl in this apartment," Ellie tells the chat before clicking something on her screen "So, they send in videos and we have to not laugh, which isn't hard because they aren't very funny." 

"You're not funny either but they watch you," I tease, Ellie fights a smile trying to uphold our image of back and-forth pocking and prodding at one another.

"Laugh three times and you're out."

"Of the apartment?"

"No, you just laugh three times and you lose."

"What do I get if I don't lose?"

"Fuck, I dunno," She furrows her eyebrows, searching the room for something. Her eyes land on a small silver tin, she snatches it up into the palm of her pale hand and sits back down "You get my dill dough."

"I'm sorry!?" My head snaps to look at her "Are you sure you aren't a cam girl?"

"No," She pauses "No, I mean no it's not what you think, yes," Ellie backtracks again "I mean I am sure I'm not a cam girl, not that that I'm not sure I'm not a cam girl, because I'm not," She looks like she's sure of what she said like it made perfect sense "Not a cam girl."

"You're not-not a cam girl?" I ask, pointing out the double negative "So you are a cam girl?"

"No," Ellie runs a hand down her face "Can you guys please tell her that I'm not a cam girl?"

Dcknb4llz:She's a cam girl

Nataliadepressed:I just subbed to her only fans!

Mclovin_fury26:She just wants to show you her dill dough 😕

Yayayalorde:I wish she was a cam girl 

The3nd_isn3ar:Ellie pls stop joking about it and become a cam girl already 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ewmarryme:hahaha Ellie ur so funny now get serious and make an onlyfans

"Anyways," Ellie ignores the chat as they clearly aren't helping her case "This is my dill dough," She shows me the small tin she picked up, there's a picture of a pickle on the front. Over the translucent lid, it surely enough says 'Dill Dough! pickle scented'. It was just green silly putty with an oddly incredulous name.

"I weirdly want that," I answer.

"If you win, it's yours." She tucks it away into the pocket of her sweatpants "Mods, let's get this moving."

We sit through about fifteen minutes of videos; mainly people getting hurt, occasionally one of some type of animal. Nothing funny enough to make either of us laugh except for one of a man falling through a glass table which gets a little chuckle out of Ellie who denies it. 

Another video began playing, it was Ellie in this exact spot, screaming during a game of Fortnite. It looks like it's from the first time she showed me her odd job choice. In the distance, you can hear a knock on the door and this is when I'm sure it's from the day I had been thinking of. Ellie pulls her headphones off and looks at her camera "Shit, I think that's my hot neighbour again."

I slap a hand over my mouth and turn to see Ellie who's looking disappointed at her chat, shaking her head at the camera. "Whoever sent that is fake as fuck."

"So you think I'm hot?"

"Pfft, no, dude, you're ugly as fuck," Ellie makes an overexaggerated confused face like she has no idea what I'm talking about "I was talking about my other neighbour."

Kaylnncourting:Ellie y r u fumbling so bad???????

Overdam00n:You guys were right for saying she doesn't get 🐱🐱🐱🐱

Sestwouth:bruh she's ruining it for herself

Connerstollit:WHY DID SHE SAY THAT 

Cruel_summer:What is wrong with Ellie? Genuinely

F0gg4t:If El doesn't want her, I do

Aliinnnnnaaaaa:First girl she's ever met and she's ruining it

Randelwthehandle:Ugly as fuck??????? who says that 😭😭

Dcknb4llz:wow nice cover up Ellie

Marie_739:Bro Im gonna start calling the girls I like ugly as fuck

"Mr. Quigley?" I ask to which Ellie nods immediately "You think the eighty-seven-year-old veteran who is missing a foot and has swallowed four of his teeth is hot?"

"Yeah," She says, immediately regretting the hole she was digging herself into "I have a thing for older men."

"I don't think you have a thing for men at all, actually."

Her eyes go wide, Ellie opens her mouth to say something and she leans forward in her chair so fast that she falls out and smacks her head on the desk, folding over and onto the ground. I have the biggest smile on my face as I reach for her soundboard and press the cheering crowd effect.  I'm laughing too hard to offer her help, clutching my stomach and keeling over so my head is out of frame. Ellie gets up, and puts herself back in the folding chair pointing at the camera "Do not clip that."

Almost seconds after she says that a video gets sent in of her smacking her head on the desk in slow motion while I burst out laughing and now I'm cackling even harder. You can even hear her yelp in slow motion and she sounds like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park "You guys are way funnier than Ellie," I say, addressing whoever was watching the stream. 

Another video pops on the screen right after the last one ends, it's Ellie again. She screams at something on her computer and you can hear me bang on the wall on the other side. Ellie goes quiet immediately going back to her game and muttering "She's so hot guys."

"I think my mods hate me," Ellie shakes her head.

"Thank you mods!" I smile at the camera.

A little clip of Ellie back at her desk pops up, she's wearing a Garfield shirt. This time she isn't playing anything, she just sits in front of the camera with that familiar lopsided smile "Guys, how do I trick my neighbour into going out with me?"

There's another video, it's a longer one with the caption 'Ellie Williams calling her neighbour hot compilation' Ellie's eyes go wide and she clicks off the video immediately, the camera goes to us full screen. "That's enough of that."

I pull my phone out and type in the caption of the unfinished video into YouTube, it comes up right away and I click on it. Ellie clicks around on her computer, unaware of my viewing until she hears her voice, echoing in low quality from my phone. She reaches for my phone but I pull it closer to myself. 

I'm dead set on finishing the video until something on the other side of the door, catches my eye. It rushes past the small crack in the slightly ajar door and instinctively, I drop my phone with a slight jolt "What the fuck is that?"

Ellie takes this opportunity to snatch my phone and place it face down on the desk, out of my reach. "That's just Kitty." She pushes herself out of the folding chair and steps out of the room. She walks back in carrying what looks to be a mound of cotton balls, looking a little closer, I realize it's a rabbit. He looks more fluff than flesh.

"What the fuck," My mouth falls open in awe "Can I hold it?" She places him in my lap "He just walks around your apartment?"

She nods "He's litter trained so he just kinda hangs out." 

I pet him, he's soft as a million feathers, and he looks like a mascot for a paper towel company "You are the only person I know that would name their bunny Kitty."

Ellie tries to wipe off the mass amounts of rabbit fur on her, it seems the more she tries to get it off, the more firmly it refuses to budge. "This is a good time to show you guys this new shirt that Dina ordered for me," Ellie stands up walking off camera. She has a couple of Amazon boxes stacked on her couch, she reaches into one of them and pulls out a T-shirt. Ellie turns towards the wall so her back is facing me, she pulls her hoodie off over her head.

All I can see is the back of her sports bra but I force my eyes to go wide "Guys, Ellie Williams has a tramp stamp that says cum dumpster," I lie and the chat goes wild and I grab my phone off her desk as she turns around in her Five Nights at Freddie's tee with a 'Seriously?' face. I take a picture of her with the flash on "I'll sell this rare image of Ellie for six hundred dollars on eBay."

Ellie walks back over to the desk with a stack of Amazon boxes "Every donation goes toward my tattoo removal," She jokes, digging around in the boxes. "I'm a little over your videos, you bunch of snitches so I think it's about time I finally open these up." 

I look in the boxes too, leaning over slightly, being very careful of Kitty where he sits in my lap. I see something and pull it out to hand to Ellie "You should try this one."

"World's hottest gummy bear," She reads the package "Why is there only one? What if I want another?" Ellie yanks the gummy bear, squishing it between her fingers. It looks like Red-40 personified. 

Melanie_felony:She's setting her up lmao

Dcknb4llz:Nobody say anything pls I rlly wanna see this

Elliewsidechick:YALL SHES TOO WHITE FOR THIS STOP

She eats the gummy bear in one bite. As she begins to chew it, she seems absolutely unfazed and partially confused about why it was labelled 'World's Hottest Gummy Bear' A moment later she begins to cough, balling her hand up into a fist and pounding on her chest. Ellie's little cough quickly turns into a deep wheeze.

Ellie lets out a scream, her face going red as she slams her hand onto her desk with watering eyes. I could see visible sweat on her face as she dry heaved, it only took thirty seconds until she sprinted out of the room.

"Oh my god," I watch her run out of the room while I give Kitty a little pet between his ears, he's so still I almost think he's taxidermy. "Guys, I think we killed her." You can hear her vaguely screaming and gagging from the kitchen "So what did everyone do today?"

Thelastgreatamericandynasty:wrote a fanfic about you and Ellie

Dcknb4llz:I got jumped at waffle house 

"Yikes, sorry to hear that." I suck a breath through my teeth "Tell me what I should know about Ellie." Her name feels so right on my tongue.

Jesse_chang:She's a virgin

D4aughter_:OMG HI JESSE

A_birthday_card:The only s3x she's ever had was in Minecraft

Whathasshegot:She has a crush on you 

Touching_theyouth:She's lactose intolerant 

Dcknb4llz:She sold me ketamine in an ally 

Gusty_queefqueen:She homophonic 

Torxhmydreams2:Pretty sure that’s two words that have the same pronunciation but different meaning

Gusty_queefqueen:Bruh it means she doesn’t like gay people

Heytheredelilah7:She has a boyfriend

When Ellie comes back she's filled her Game of Thrones mug with milk and has a bag of shredded mozzarella cheese. She reads the chat "Can you guys be cool for once?"

"They're cooler than you."

"Very funny," Ellie eats a handful of mozzarella before she digs back in the boxes "What's next?" There's one box huge envelope that looks like it has a slip of cardboard in it. Ellie tears the corner open with her teeth and rips the rest of the top off with her hands. She pulls the content out of it, throwing the envelope over the computer for it to land on the ground. Just as suspected there was cardboard in it, not just a slip but it unfolded into a cardboard cut out of Ellie, she looked to be a younger teenager in it, giving an awkward little peace sign and showing her green braces off with a huge smile.

"Aww, you actually look cute in that."

She disregards me "Chat, interrogate Dina about this and report back."

"Dina?" I ask "Is that your girlfriend?"

"Nah," Ellie props up the cardboard cut-out and places it behind us, right in the middle to watch over us "She's my enemy as of right now."

"What did she do?"

"Send this shit," She eats some more mozzarella, holding the bag out to offer me some, to which I decline. Ellie shrugs it off and eats another handful, washing it down with a long chug of milk and putting it on the desk. She grabs a t-shirt, he eyes go wide and she pushes it against her chest so I can't see. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," I watch a smile spread across her face as she turns the shirt around to show me a graphic of her on it. In the picture, her face is close up to the camera covered in a white powder (presumably flour). "Oh, wow!" I feign shock.

"I know!" She holds it out toward me "It's yours, you deserve it."

"Wow," I draw the word out, taking the shirt from Ellie "This is really great, I was always hoping I would get a shirt of you covered in flour." Sarcasm drips from tone but I accept the gift regardless.

"I know!" Ellie grins brightly "You should put it on now."

"That's fine, I think I'll save it for our date," I tease.

She perks up just the slightest "Ooo, when's that?"

"The second this stream ends."

"On that note," Ellie looks at the camera "Thank you guys for hopping on tonight and thank you to my neighbour who came here without putting up a fuss," Ellie clicks around on the screen a little bit before addressing them again "Alright, go bug Dina now."

With that the stream comes to a close, the blinking light on the camera turns off, and Ellie and I are left alone with ourselves and Kitty.

“So,” Ellie thumps her foot up and down repeatedly like those anxious kids in high school. “Do you maybe wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

“I don’t drink coffee but I’ll pretend to so I have an excuse to hangout with you.”

A smile splits onto Ellie’s face “Phew, I hate coffee I just thought it was an adult way to ask you out.”

A/N: This is super short but I’ll make up for it in the next part, thanks for reading! We got some angst on the way 👀

Perm tag-list: @veeveeisgay @whenlostinthedarkness @gold-dustwomxn @ellslvr

Series tag-list: @diddiqueen @camillecrellin @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @lmaoo-spiderman @camicocom1a @elliessweetheart @melanie-watermelon @lanafresitas

[thegnomelord]

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an��� stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

[scoobydoodean]

Could you elaborate on why you want season 8 Sam to die? It's been years since I watched that season ahah. I don't doubt that he deserves to, but I cannot remember why.

He saw Kevin be kidnapped and abandoned him to a life of torture without so much as telling his mother or another hunter or even the angels who would have had a stake in saving him.

His flashbacks are unbelievably awkward and boring. I'm supposed to care about the trash disposal he fixed while Dean is doing sexually charged battle scenes with Cas and Benny in Purgatory.

He gets together with a woman who accuses him of hitting a dog on purpose and implies that he's a white supremacist.

He tells Amelia he wants to fight for their relationship, but as soon as her ex husband suggests they should let her choose between them, he leaves her in the middle of the night, then after she's moved on, he comes back just to be a homewrecker.

He keeps saying he's going to leave the life as soon as the business with Kevin and the tablet is concluded and Dean needs to "let him go" (???) but also doesn't want Dean to have any friends besides him and demands Dean cut ties with Benny or else (while Dean is telling Sam to go back to Amelia if that's what he wants).

The entirety of "Citizen Fang", from sending a hunter he knows is mentally unstable to "keep an eye" on Benny to going along with Martin beating Dean over the head and chaining him to a radiator to keep him from interfering with the Benny witch hunt to pretending afterward like HE was the victim because Dean sent him a fake text from his ex to prevent Sam from MURDERING SOMEONE. To taking zero accountability for Martin or Elizabeth.

Dean tells Sam that he is suicidal and Sam insists on doing The Trials based on Dean's suicidality and says that he will survive The Trials and renew Dean's hope in living, then within two episodes he pretends that conversation never happened and basically tries to gaslight Dean for the rest of the season into thinking it didn't happen while also getting furious at Dean whenever he gets the slightest feeling that maybe Dean doesn't believe in him.

When Sam is sick, Dean takes care of him, bringing him food, getting his fever down, etc, and is treated like this makes him a piece of shit who doesn't "trust" Sam enough (????). Sam repeatedly projects feelings onto Dean that Dean doesn't even have and ridicules him for thought crimes.

While being furious that maybe Dean doesn't trust Sam more generally to have his back, Sam ignores that he has done everything possible to destroy Dean's trust, from abandoning him, Cas, and Kevin to die and presenting a deeply unfeeling exterior about it, to promising to survive The Trials then almost immediately telling Dean he's going to die and to get over it. He acts entitled to Dean's trust and on top of it, the expectations are one-sided. He is allowed to distrust Dean all day every day but Dean isn't allowed to distrust him ever.

All of this culminates in Sam "confronting" Dean for trusting other people besides Sam, having friends besides Sam who showed more loyalty and care to Dean than Sam has, and telling Dean he's jealous of his other relationships and all but flat out blaming him for the fact that Sam now wants to commit suicide.

In the aftermath he gets mad that Dean convinced him not to commit suicide by telling Sam that he loves him and it's all okay and he's there for him when Sam was literally blaming Dean for his impending suicide. He claims Dean "made him" make the wrong choice because he is incapable of ever taking accountability for anything.

Basically it's the worst things Sam's ever done dialed up to 11 and it doesn't stop the whole season and he is so thoroughly miserable to watch that he's almost unrecognizable to the point I joke about him being a podperson. Also see: #season 8 sam.

[cybersugru]

❝ message in a bottle ; 마크이

𖥻 pairing: college!mark lee x female reader

𖥻 contains: college!au, fluff, slight angst, second chance romance

𖥻 warnings: swearing, marijuana & alcohol consumption / english is not my first language and this is my first work ever on tumblr so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings

word count — 4.06k

synopsis — you and mark were in a situationship for a few months before things ended poorly when you got too scared of your feelings and he had to leave the country for an exchange program in london. now, six months later, you were at a party with your friends and discovered mark was back in town.

🎀

AND just like that, your whole world stopped spinning for a long and torturous minute. in the blink of an eye, you went from being over-the-moon excited — and slightly intoxicated — with the idea of partying with your friends during the first summer night before heading to your hometown in the next couple of days to being paralyzed, feeling all your blood get drained far away from where it should be in your body. in the blink of an eye, you went from being a happy girl with the arrival of the last member of your friend group to someone terrified with the sight of a ghost from the past. a quick glance, unintended by all means, in mark’s direction was all it took for the memories from that previous year to come flooding back to hit you like a lost train.

“hey, princess,” he said. his cheeks burning in a shade of shameful red, but something stronger than him was preventing his stare from going anywhere else other than your eyes. there was a blunt hanging between his teeth. “how you doing?”

“that’s it, guys; i’m done with this. i’m just gonna change my major or something like that! everything’s going terribly wrong, and i can’t keep torturing myself by studying this shit.”

you dropped your head and rested your forehead on your arm that lay on top of the desk in front of you right as the confession slipped from your lips like a dangerous poison that you should not have taken. it was the first time you’d ever said it out loud to someone else to hear — other than the mischievous voice inside your head — how you truly felt about the english major you were pursuing. the fear of judgment and of being too hasty about this decision was corroding every last bit of your emotional health, and because of it, you could sense that a storm was coming. what if you did change majors and ended up not adapting? how would you find a job, or better yet: how would you support living all by yourself if you couldn’t even pick an undergraduate academic path? time was running out, and the unbearable clock inside your mind wouldn’t give you a break. the tick-tacking of the goddamn thing was going to drive you to insanity at any point soon.

“hey, chill for once, okay? it’s normal to feel like that and to want something new. hell, i know i had to change my major twice before finding out what i actually wanted to do. jae did the same thing. you’re not alone.” jeno offered you a small yet reassuring smile of someone who didn’t quite know what to say but still wanted to see his friend more relaxed.

“exactly! take a deep breath and think things through with an easy heart. if you need help, we’re here to help

you." swallowing the last bite of the sandwich he had bought earlier, renjun tapped the notebook in front of him. “how’s that linguistics project going?”

as you raised your head, you shook your head in a negative sign. “i mean, it’s good. too good, actually… and that’s sort of the problem. like, the dude i’m working with is super sweet and really fucking good at this class and so he’s kind of doing the whole thing by himself and dragging me along with him ever since we started. i feel terrible, even if he says it’s all good and stuff, but it is what it is, i guess.”

before either of the guys could express any opinion about what was just said, a guy with freshly cut black hair — it was even possible to see the drawing of a spiderweb on the left side of his undercut —, earphones in and a large yankees shirt approached the desk, more specifically you, and offered you a genuine smile that wasn’t common to see between two colleagues who were only working on a school project together. the unknown man squatted so he could be at your height and unlocked his ipad’s screen to the word document the two of you were using to write notes together, or at least that was the initial idea because the reality was that mark was doing all of it alone, proudly.

“oh, hi, y/n, you good? just wanted to ask you a quick question… have you taken a look at this topic right here? i know we’re only supposed to work on it in two weeks but i was wondering if maybe you’ve come up with the same conclusion as me.”

feeling a thousand times more embarrassed than if a professor asked you to present a thirty-minute seminar alone in front of the whole class, you felt the tip of your fingers getting cold and a thin droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. “uhm, hey, mark. yeah, about that… look, i didn’t really have a chance to look at that yet, i’m sorry. i can barely manage this week’s assignments, let alone two weeks from now. i- i’ll text you when i read it, okay?”

you didn’t know it at the time — or if you did, you had an enviable ability of discretion — but every single time mark heard his name escape from your heavenly drawn lips, his heart would skip a beat or two and he felt like he was about to combust at any second. it was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt that way about someone and dealing with feelings of that magnitude was both weird and extraordinary, which meant that the ravenette wasn’t completely aware of how to process them. mark’s solution for his overwhelming thoughts whenever you were around was to take charge of everything he could in that project, to make you feel relaxed about that one particular class. the canadian was terrible at linguistics, for his skills were much more reliable during literature classes: he could interpret and internalize poetry from the eighteenth century like it was nothing, and plays written in latin during the roman empire were of natural understanding for him; and yet, ever since the first day of that semester in which it was requested that both of you joined efforts to build the complicated assignment, it was impossible for mark to not pull all-nighters reading texts and more texts, watching one video class after another that broke down the subject of that class just so he could give his absolute best when the time came to work alongside you and you didn’t find him an idiot, as most people in that university usually did after meeting him for the first time.

mark just wanted to impress you and the last thing he could be worried about was doing all that alone, as long as it meant that he could still have the minimum interaction with you.

“yeah, sure, that’s cool. if you need anything let me know, alright?”

you were still in a state of complete shock. no words would come out of your mouth, making it impossible to answer properly the question directed at you by the boy that a year before was the reason for many sleepless nights and therapy sessions, through no fault of his, which was even worse, because mark was perfect and you hated yourself for how everything ended.

a cold breeze, too cold for a summer night, hit the both of you with enough strength to make you shiver and it was only then that you realized that none of your friends were around anymore. you were alone again with mark for what had felt like a lifetime since he left the country for an exchange program in london and with enough unspoken words to make the whole situation a million times more uncomfortable than it needed to be. what were you supposed to say right now? “oh, hi, mark, long time no see! listen, i’m really sorry for being horrible to you last year, i’ve spent the last six months torturing myself because i only woke up to the fact that i had let the perfect guy for me get away too late to try and fix everything”? you ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that there were no words of your knowledge that could make it easier, that could put together again the pieces of what had once been something magical that the two of them were building.

you couldn’t care less about all those times your therapist tried to be kinder to your heart than you had ever been, or how your friends always tried to distract your mind from the constant haunt of self-collection and, to be honest, didn’t really mind that yes, after all the effort and studying, you had managed to change your major to something you actually enjoyed if the price for it was to drop the perfect crystal piece that was mark’s precious heart. there were no words that could take that back, and going against every piece of advice that was given to you, you had imagined more times than you’d like to admit how this encounter would play out: what you would do, what you would say or not say, how it’d feel… but none of those scenarios inside your mind was anywhere near to the real sensation of being in front of him again.

mark looked taller — or maybe it was just the feeling of missing him crushing your soul and clouding your judgment —, the slim body now gave way to the body of a man who went to the gym and tried to truly take care of his health, his hair that previously used to be as dark as the t-shirts he used to enjoy wearing was now covered in a shade of red so bright that it reminded you of his favorite superhero’s suit. even still, the one thing that caught your attention the most were his eyes. before mark left, before the whole chaos, they were always big and full of life, like those of a curious cub and you could always feel a cozy warmth travel across your body when mark looked at you with such brightness; however, it seemed that ever since the canadian got back in town, they were opaque, closed off to the outer world as if his eyes were now carrying some kind of intense melancholy behind them. the familiar redness in his sclerae, months ago, used to always be accompanied by an excited and smiling version of mark lee, but that night the only thing apparent to you was that lee was holding on to weed like some kind of way to numb the break-up pain.

the redhead had lived a thousand different lives during his exchange: saw and learned things that he knew he would never have achieved if he hadn't accepted the opportunity to go to england and yet, his mind couldn’t recall any of those experiences with the genuine happiness he should’ve felt like any other normal and grateful person would if they were on his shoes; to mark, ever since you left him all alone, he had turned into nothing but an empty shell of what should’ve been the real mark lee. what were his experiences, his learnings, his funny stories if, at any moment, he was allowed to at least call the person he loved and share all of that with her?

“yeah, i guess i’m okay.” you answered, holding back a cry that was stuck in your throat before looking away. ��you?”

a shiver went down the english student as he waited for his project partner to arrive at the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at to finish for good the agonizing linguistics document. it didn’t even seem real that you were finally concluding the most stressful and endless project of your university career until that moment and despite the sweet taste of reaching the finish line, mark had on his lips a bitter one, because he knew that the very instant you pressed “send” on the body of that e-mail to your professor, all of his excuses to talk to you would come to an end. it was only the beginning of november, you should spend at least a few more weeks studying together if said professor were to follow a normal academic calendar like the rest of his fellow colleagues of the department.

mark would only have one last chance of making this work out and that chance was right there and then. anxiety and fear were destroying the boy with more strength than he himself was biting through his nails waiting for you to arrive.

“gosh, mark, i’m so sorry!” you said in a panting tone when you finally managed to get to the coffee shop and met the guy that, by that point, had already become your friend. “the bus took forever to get to the stop i needed and then the subway was also chaotic… anyways, i’m sorry that i’m late.”

the both of you stayed a long time in that coffee shop, not only finishing the assignment but also laughing together and watching a few episodes of modern family on his computer as a way to relax after all the constant flow of negative emotions the both of you were facing during that semester due to not only that particular class but also all the other ones with their enormous reading load. by the time you had indeed finished what you were supposed to do, you were feeling so comfortable in mark’s presence that you didn’t even notice when you heart started to race faster and faster before the mundane things the lee did: the way he smiled from ear to ear, or how kind he was to everyone around him. you were starting to fall in love with how mark explained all the different concepts he used to build his arguments across the paper like someone would explain the most basic things to a child, and you thought it was sweet the way he would say “dude” and “no way” every couple of sentences that fell from his lips. but, above all, unconsciously, the way mark seemed to glow every time he looked at you was ethereal to your eyes.

as soon as you sent the hated file, it started to rain on the outside of the coffee shop, but contrary to the ideal scenario, you couldn’t stay in there just waiting until the climate conditions became more favorable because the two of you had places to be at, on opposite directions. there would be no other alternative but to run to the nearest subway station, or in the brunette’s case, the bus stop.

mark immediately took off his hoodie to shield you as best as he could from the rain, in exchange for you protecting his backpack that contained his computer as if your life depended on it, the moment you two stepped outside the establishment and something of a thunderstorm was taking over the avenue. mark couldn’t help it and ended up laughing at the situation you two had found yourselves in, thinking about how he wished he was a little less broke and had a car to take the girl of his dreams back to her place without having to worry about the rain, or how he wished he was stronger to pick you up and carry you to the subway station and, with that, spare your shoes from coming in contact with the soaked surface of the sidewalk. before you could notice, you were right in front of the stairs that led to the station.

“bye, i think.” you said, giggling along with him while you tried to fix your hair that, despite mark’s hoodie’s protection, still got wet from the rain.

the lee was going to answer you like a decent and proper person, he really was, but in that very moment, a raindrop fell from the marquee above you and somehow managed to hit you right on the forehead, which made you close your eyes, but mark kept his wide open. with an automatic reaction of his body, almost like an involuntary movement that he was incapable of controlling — such as the beats of his accelerated heart — his left hand traveled to your neck while his right thumb was busy drying the solitary raindrop slowly, to give his mind time to analyze every little inch of your face so close to his. mark tried to respond with words to your farewell, but his impulse to kiss you was far stronger than any cohesive phrase that his brain could formulate in that moment.

the literature student, now in his final semester, nodded as he bit his lower lip and those opaque eyes fell to the floor beneath his feet after stepping on the remaining of his blunt. mark didn’t even know why he started that conversation in the first place, it was obvious that it was impossible for him to stand close to you without it affecting some part of him — whether for good or for bad — and even still, there he was, not managing to say a single word to you, nor being able to get closer, just feeding that giant gray and terrifying cloud that grew over both of your heads due to the impasse of what this was and what it should have been.

unlike his mind, that was only able to repeat tirelessly the day he finally built the confidence to kiss you, yours was in a hurricane of terrible memories that involved the brief, yet intense, relationship you two shared — or whatever the hell one could call it. how was it even possible that something that lasted only four months could leave such deep scars?

if mark was trying to hold back a smile remembering how it felt to have your lips on top of his, you were only torturing yourself with the replayed image of mark being crushed in front of you, by no fault other than your own. it was your fault that fear was allowed to consume every single good thing that the lee had ever given you; it was your fault that you’d thought that whole thing was a sick and sadistic joke from the universe and that, in reality, there was no way someone like him could've ever fallen in love with you. in the deepest, darkest, cruelest part of your soul, you were convinced that everything was your fault and not your mind trying to destroy you before something so pure and happy.

you were a sinking ship, navigating towards a port with not a single sight of a lighthouse’s spark to help you, not knowing how to reach the treasure that awaited your arrival because other people had already destroyed the lighthouse. the ability to grope around, trying to find yourself in the darkness you’d placed yourself, was stripped away from you the second you gave in to the bruises that were caused by third parties, and mark knew it wasn't your fault, although it was still difficult to try and be the guide to someone that wouldn't allow them to have access to the heat and light from the fire he tried to offer.

without even realizing it, the silenced cry stuck in your throat for months on end started to escape, not giving you any power to control it. you felt anger, sadness, frustration and you were missing mark… all at the very same time, in an endless swirl triggered by the mere vision of having mark back into your reality.

just like the first time you kissed, the unconscious answer of mark lee’s body to the sound of you crying after such a long time being away from you was to wrap his arms around your body without allowing himself to give too much thought to the action that just took place. if it was even possible, noticing you needing him in any way, shape or form was a true calling for him and it didn't matter how much time could've gone by, the lee couldn't ignore it. to love you and protect you was just as natural as breathing.

between the supplications for your tears to stop and hair strokes, mark then began to feel something that he thought was dead coming back to life inside the hollow box that was his chest. for months now, the redhead just knew that his heart was no longer there. instead, it must've been put inside a bottle and thrown away into the ocean that separated his emotions from his rational mind, as if he wasn't even the owner of his own feelings.

“please, princess, don't cry. i’m begging you.”

the cruelty of your mind wouldn't give you a break for not even a single second ever since the last time you've heart mark’s melodious voice so close to your ear, and the fact that it carried the same heavy tone of request didn't help with your genuine desire to stop your sobbings as your face was pressed against his chest. in that moment, the last thing on your mind were the looks that other people could be directing at the two of you; you could only see the desperation all over the face of the only man you've ever truly loved. he was in such pain that day — the day you told him you didn't want to see him anymore. soon, though, that image was replaced with the memory of the gut-wrenching feeling of chronic emptiness that filled your chest the following week and you came to your senses that you had make a mistake, but that it was also too late: mark was in another country, it was far too late to ask for forgiveness.

“i know you probably hate me right now. i shouldn't have done that, i shouldn't have said that, i was such an idiot, stupid… i'm sorry, mark, i don't know what was going on in my mind to treat like that, i-”

that sobbing wouldn't allow you to form coherent sentences properly and the way you were crying so helplessly was becoming melancholic instead of just sad to the man holding you. if only mark could get into your merciless head just how he would never be able to hate you, not in a million years, not when there was so much love, desire and adoration intrinsic to the image he had of you, then maybe that big gray cloud would disappear forever and the two of you could just live like he hoped for. all mark wanted was to have the privilege of loving you again.

“y/n, look at me” mark held the red and tear wet face of his beloved girl with kindness while his tone of voice was filled with all the firmness the moment could ask for. “for christ’s sake, y/n, i love you. i could never hate you. dude, really, for once just keep your head out of this and focus on what i’m telling you right now. i love you and this whole time i was thinking of you. only you.”

even if he knew you wouldn't answer anything for a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, mark just allowed a sweet smile to appear on his lips while he delighted himself with the feeling of being allowed to hold your face once again, to stroke your cheeks and to place small, delicate kisses all over your beautiful face — which he knew would force your breathing to slow down, giving you the chance to calm down again. the canadian was smelling like the combination of weed and beer, but somehow, your body knew how to identify the familiar and characteristic smell of his cologne; the same smell your searched for and ached for during the coldest nights, when missing him was too overwhelming it almost felt like a hole was being digged up in your chest. that familiarity was the reason for the shy smile that took over your lips, that opened a breach for light and happiness after all those tears while mark traced your lips with his thumb, admiring you like you were some kind of artwork created just for him.

“i was made to stay just like this with you, princess. and i’m not leaving this time.”

[earthmixsclowderofcats]

Okay but imagine being in ZeeNuNew’s shoes - you’re queer, confirmed dating but haters still pair you with women you interact with or just meet (business or not), tell you that you’re not ‘queer enough’ and your relationship that you confirmed years ago must be fanservice and if you tell something like ‘NuNew likes cold showers, I prefer warm/hot ones and it’s torturous for me’ (Zee has said it recently by the way, like days ago) people still act surprised:/ but I hope it’ll be better for them

It's definitely an interesting situation. Because like, coming at it from an outside perspective as I was, I was confused for a while. Over the top fan service is a staple of the genre tbh. But I think maybe people get stuck on the black and white and forget the nuance.

Like yeah, it can be fan service and they can also actually care for each other. Which is where I ended up. Because they were definitely playing it up, especially at the beginning of the relationship, but you can also see the genuine affection and emotional honesty, and you can see how it shifts over time.

Again, so wild to me that it's like living your own fake dating au. Committing to the bit to the point where it's no longer a bit. It sounds like a bl plot. (I mean DMD is literally doing a bl with that plot right now lol) That's so meta.

I think people are naturally skeptical, and I think that's probably for a good reason, as it's always best to keep yourself self aware when it comes to celebrities. But what's weird is the intensity with which people are either "pro" or "anti."

As if it's a matter that affects them personally. Like, if they are "pro" and proven wrong true love doesn't exist and they were fools all along and if they are "anti" and they're wrong they were hateful homophobic crones. When like. We are not part of the equation. But people are dedicating themselves to their stance so fully. Which is why I think I was going back and forth for a while before just being like ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

They are or are not whatever they are. They're cute as hell and act like a couple so that's the assumption I'm gonna live under.

You know the whole "if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it's probably a duck" thing?

I don't shower with my bros.

But instead of being like "hey, I change my mind once I've encountered new information" people double down in weird and frankly, queer phobic ways.

I can understand the confusion about their label because I understand it's a bit different culturally. Like, in a western sense most people would not consider it a confirmation because it was more of a "make your own assumptions" kind of thing. Which was what tripped me up for a while.

Tbh that would be the best possible response if it were secretly all fan service all along somehow. Because then that would give people the feeling of confirmation they want while still having the deniability of "I never actually said that."

But also, given the untraditional nature of their relationship, labels like that, especially at the time, may have just not been something they were worrying about. Like, I don't think there's a guidebook for this whole situation.

Sidenote: I am so charmed by the epic saga that is them vs showers.

Especially how Nunew likes to tease about Zee's snoring vs Zee teasing Nunew about his bad habit of not showering before bed. (But it's ok if Nunew does it because Nunew is always the exception it seems. Something the besties have in common. Nat is always the exception for Max.)

The shower ghost, etc. it's peak old married couple bickering.

Kind of like for whatever reason what convinced me about earthmix (on top of everything else) was that Mix pops Earth's zits. Like. That's a level of intimacy that simple costars do not have lmao.

When it's not just the cute shit, but also the gross stuff and the every day bickering that makes it feel genuine.

[haechurch]

thirst.

that's how you feel about this guy. he's making you... thirsty.

inspired from thirsty by aespa. (you guys might dont think thirsty by aespa as what i am thinking... its actually a tHIRST SONG. a song that is about *THIRST*)

w. blowjob, pussy eating, slapping, pet names, cum slut rdr!!! breeding kink, hint of catching feelings maybe, idk but it might sound so horny and dirty, unprotected sex, just minors dni

he's making you thirsty. so when he gave in for the first time (or is it you? you do not recall) he keeps making you come back for more, it haunts you like crazy and eventually you can't endure the torture anymore, like a vampire who's been fed by blood, you hunt for another unless you die.

I'm knocking on you again

The sight gently swaying on the sparkling water surface every day

you are roommates. the idea of getting a life under the same roof with some random boy concerns you for the first time, but now you definitely thank heavens. because damn, he's fine af. every morning he would cook his own eggs, brew his own coffee.. with low training pants hanging dearly around his hips, messy black hair, glasses, and every time he wore that plain white t-shirt. how can be a shirt making someone look like that. hot. he's fucking hot.

his body proportion is a perfection you would say, never you saw someone built like that before, and you convince that god indeed has a favorite. a man who got to be looking so fine in just a white plain fucking t-shirt.

it hugged his torso perfectly. when he's doing his thing in the kitchen, his back deliciously on display while you sit on the dining table which is placed in front of the kitchen counter and it's not exaggerated to be said that it is a perfect spot to appreciate the view, just as you meant to be.

you can't help but stare and stare, unconsciously nipping, licking, and pressing your lips together, sighing then coughing when you found yourself not quiet enough to cover your act of drooling, and one thing you can't help so badly is pressing your thighs together under the table, aggressively.

he wouldn't know.

until one night he heard you getting off when you believe he left the house and you thought you heard him that he's gonna come back late. but he didn't.

the thing is, you do believe he's not home when you finished your business and get out of your room, lights even from the kitchen were off, but then you suddenly hear a deep voice coming from his unlocked space.

"having fun?"

"fuck! what the hell?!?" you jumped as you clutched on your chest, utterly shocked. he sits on the edge of his bed which can be seen as the doors open. the shit eating grin on his face got your heartbeat running even faster.

"the fuck were you doing? how long have you been there??" you trying to be sounds normal and honestly you thought you did a great job. except for the fact the he's been there. all the time.

"who would've thought the girl that has been acting all shy and quiet..."

he pause and gesturing some random swirls with his fingers in the air before he continue, "..is actually a beast."

you rolled your eyes, "what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean, don't acting all innocent now i heard you."

"so? i'm just having my time it's none of your business seriously. you're exaggerating things."

"oh? so you're touching yourself with the thought of me was exaggerating? do you even realize how loud you were? i almost barging into your room to help you out when you call my name but i decided to give you respect.." your face flushed, he's eyeing you from head to toe as he wet his lips, ".. for your personal space,"

"haha so thoughtful" you cleared your throat then rolled another eye, arms folded sternly.

"you're so irresistible... always thought that you never want me.." he get up from his bed and walking straight to where you stand and you thoughtlessly unfold your arms guardless when he stand this close to your body.

"such a pretty girl.. wearing this thin tank top with nothing underneath but shorts? tsk."

he grab at your hand and bring your fingers in front of his face, nosing at your fingers, the right fingers you use for getting yourself off, and inhales sharply before he took it to his mouth to suck.

"what the fuck...?" you gasp at his act, face contorted in disgust, but to be honest, made you turn on at the same time.

"i should've known this sooner... never thought that you're gonna be so... slutty."

even though he wasn't the type that aggressively makes move. you were so stupid to think that he's just as shy as you, and dull, but as today happens you have to acknowledge that he's just good at holding back. and that with much respect, as he was saying. even so, the way he behave tonight.. you couldn't be more aroused. can't believe you two keep your hands off each other just to know that both of you are actually desperate to fuck each other.

The more I touch you, the more thirsty

I'm sure it's full, but I'm thirsty (Yeah I gotcha' boy)

his hands are currently all over your body. inviting him to your room is a big big mistake. from considering to be a sweet hearted kind of guy and help you folding your laundry, you have your legs being folded instead as he eat you out messily. so messy that the sound of slurping and your juices make you cringe. but damn it feels so good, he do it so right it leaves you blabbering nonsense you didn't know you let out. you squeeze your thighs together and pull on his hair, hip lifted so high onto his face to press your own pleasure cause it feels too much, but too good.

it's been a while since he caught you on the other day, and it's always him giving you head and not vice versa. he sensed that you don't want to do the same thing and didn't ask about it either, in fact, he's pretty content that he can have his way with you and eat you out gladly whenever he desires. but it's just the fact that you're actually holding back.

you want him. you want to suck on those dick that god knows he's beyond hard after when he had his way with you, but the thought of getting addicted to him already makes you unsettled. what if you become like, dependent? or what if you keep looking for him because you always wanted a taste? what if you liked him? it's the same as playing with drugs, it's so tempting that the moment you got a taste, you'll be addicted. need more, and more, more of him.

it's morning again. him with his pieces of clothing and standing behind the counter where he can see you clearly. you're sitting on the sofa in the living room which faces directly at the kitchen. he may look busy doing his thing, but he won't miss the way you look at him like a starving woman. you're staring so hard. staring at his crotch, in fact. you're so lost that you miss the way his eyes watching you, smirking in amusement like he knows exactly what you were thinking.

"angel."

you twitched at his remark, nearly dropping your bowl at the moment.

"i know you want me." he's straight to the point. it makes you bewildered that you let your mouth open and close with no words to let out.

now it feels so much harder to resist him. you can't hold on any longer.

"c'mere." you know he's controlling you. and you know you wouldn't disobey him for once. so you get up with a huff pretending that you don't like any of the ideas in his head right now and making a beeline to stand in front of him.

"what do you want?" you shifted on one leg and tried to act calm, and you do. but he won't fall for that. he already feels you. feels your need.

"what do you want?" he asked you the same question, his tone stern but his voice delicate.

"i-i don't-"

he cut you off by catching your lips on his, and as he did that, you close your eyes, already submitted. you moan to the kiss as he started to grope your ass, using his tongue to lap all over your mouth in a heated make out session. after feels like hours you broke the kiss, and he stare at your fucked out face before he harshly pushed you on your knees and started to pull down his joggers, his hard on on full display.

he stroke his length slowly as he let out a low groan while staring down at you, you couldn't be more wet. your mouth agape, the need for tasting him is so strong you're losing your mind. on all four, you crawl closer to him and hesitantly replace his own hand on his cock with yours. it's so hard that the image of him being aroused because of you makes you tingle. your grip is strong on his cock, and you squeeze it deliciously, making him growl.

you kiss the tip, basically teasing both of yourselves, before finally sucking on his blunt like a lollipop. you keep doing the suction, then give a handful of his balls a massage while you let go of the tip and start pressing kisses along his shaft. he reacts so well it makes you excited, pussy already drenched with arousal. you take half of his shaft onto your mouth, proceeding to bob your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and tongue gliding under his shaft, you do this for a while before taking all of him in the back of your throat, which makes you gag a little. he hissed and his head thrown back, both of his hands grabbed at the back of your head sternly, pinning you down his length you hardly move.

"fuck. i knew you'd be good at this. good for nothing but chokes on a cock, huh? you feel so fucking good, so fucking spoiled, aren't you? why don't you tell me you're my cock slut, hm?"

of course you can't tell a fucking thing. mouth is full of dick, good for nothing but being stuffed by his cock. and you love it so much it gave you shivers. you hummed bringing vibration down his cock which makes him let another groans, then he started to fuck himself on your throat. he let go of his hands from the back of your head and pulling his length out before thrusting, he quickly find his pace and face fuck you in a steady pace, bringing your hair in a ponytail as a nice grip.

you already know that since then, the things between you two would just bring another sweet disaster.

Sip, sip, sip, it all night

Dip, dip, dip, it all night

before sleeping, on the midnights when both of you are still awake, in the morning, when you are sick from the assignments, while cooking lunch in the kitchen, when he says he's horny, even after working out, you'll gladly give him head. every time, anywhere.

you're addicted. it's started concerning you if it's fucking normal to do a blowjob like it's some kind of routine.

you love his load. you'll gladly devour every drop of his spurt without him asking you to. even if your mouth is full of his cum, it's still not enough. when you swallow it down your throat, you still feel thirsty.

So thirsty thirsty thirsty

Drench me with your heart hidden deep in the water

you fuck for the first time that night. watching movies with a guy best friend who's been doing things with you is most likely leading to something more, which is kinda terrifies you. but fuck it, you both know that you're already far from crossing the line.

"you're so pretty." he whispered in your ear, his hands all over your torso, groping and kneading your tits. you squirm from his touch and throw your head on his shoulder, body resting comfortably on his lap. your bare back feels warm against his chest, you can feel his clothed dick keeps poking you from behind. he kisses your jaw, neck, shoulder, collarbone, then down to your spine it makes you shiver. he grab your hips to lift you up and bend you over on all four, before eating you out from behind. your back arched like a cat, face buried into the sofa pillow, muffled your own moan, hands squeezed into each other so tight.

"oh, fuck. so so good, please don't stop-" you managed to mumble, his grip on your thighs so strong, one hand kneading your cheek and slap it hard. you moan at the feelings, panting like crazy, drool all over the pillow under you as he eating you out expertly, licking from the bottom all the way to the top to suck on your clit, fat tongue sliding against your folds like he's devouring an ice cream, he spits, giving open mouthed kisses all over your pussy, fucking your hole as deep as possible with his wet muscle with purpose.

"fuck i'm so close. can you please hurry u-"

he slapped your cunt making you gasp and jolt. "what is it angel?"

"make me cum,"

"only good girls can cum. are you a good girl? my good girl?"

you dropped your head on the pillow, feeling frustrated cause this time, you desperately wanted to be fucked, hard.

"yes, i am your good girl. please, just please, fuck me,"

that's it. it's smoothly rolled off your lips. he's giving a pause for a moment at your comment, before you hear a rustle behind you, you're looking over your shoulder and he's already taking off his bottoms, leaving him as naked as you are.

"pretty girl, you're gonna be the death of me," he's stroking his dick in slow motion, the head is hitting your entrance making you arch your back even more, begging in silence to be fucked.

"shit, you're so fucking wet." he's lining his cock on your opening, teasing his own length between your very drenched folds, and it makes you whine.

he slapped your cheeks again, "beg," he said. "beg for it."

you feels like crying when you beg him, "fuck me. please,"

Yeah I keep getting greedy

Telling me that you probably too

both of you never spent nights together until morning in one room. being fucked stupid by your roommate was never been on your wishlist, but it's not that bad.

"fuck me. please,"

your tone was so desperate it mortifies you, but you don't even care anymore, you want him, so fucking much. he might want you as much as you want him, and you do want to believe that.

he's slowly bottoming up when both of you groan in unison. he's so big, you feel full, and you love the feeling. hands on your hips, almost clawing when he piston his cock in and out of you. you're a moaning mess, he then pull at your hair to yank your head up, back touching his torso while he fucks you precisely from behind.

"you're so sweet and tight. i love it." he nibbles and grunts in your ear, his voice is so sexy you're beyond turned on.

"want to... want to see your face..." you said in a tiny voice and he move quickly to grant your wish. he pulls out and carry you to move into his bed, then plop you onto the sheets.

you suddenly feel embarrassed, hands buckle up covering your chest. he chuckled when he find you were so vulnerable. like a lost little pup. fucking cute.

"acting shy just now?" he's hovering over you, parting your legs apart and sliding into your waiting hole once more. you gasp and arch your neck, he swiftly kiss and sucks on your exposed skin to leave red marks. you sigh in bliss, his mouth on you feels so right, him making you full and complete, you couldn't be more in joy.

he kiss you one more time on the mouth and thrust at a quick pace above you, eyes staring at you with lust and admiration. he's so pretty with his hair sticking all over his forehead, sweat covering his muscular body, glistening under the lights. he's so sexy.

"come with me, yeah? i want you to come with me." he demands. you nod your head and shut your eyes tightly, moaning into oblivion when he start to play with your clit and you explode right away. he's moaning with you when you squeeze him so firmly, his pace erratically fast as he easily glides in and out, drenched pussy and skin to skin clapping can be heard all over the room.

"just come in me." you cup his face and look him in the eyes, almost lovingly, and you whispered to him that made him cum immediately,

"i want you to fill me up, so full it's overflowing. plant babies in me."

only hard breathing and groan are heard inside of this room. it's not long after you two continue in bed, but the room is already steamy and smells like sex.

"not enough," you speak, more like mumbling to yourself.

"what?" he remarked.

"i said," you smile wholeheartedly at him, and come closer to his ear.

"i want all of your cum in me until my pussy has already taken all the remaining space for it."

Yes, I'm thirsty when I see you

[lady-ashfade]

i saw your taking requests! how about yandere kaz brekker whos in loove with reader but she kinda thinks he's a monster (cause u know he's dirtyhands etc.), how would he try to change her mind? would he try at all? how would he treat her? any plot you want really, all love to you!

Yandere Kaz Brekker HC’S

Dark!Yandere!kaz brekker x reader.

Sorry for the late reply…today has not been the best. BUT THIS IS HELPING ME! SO BE PREPARED FOR KAZZEL DAZZEL!

If any of you want a small fic, drabble of this kaz then please! Give me some.

Dead dove do not eat.

Warnings: Yandere actions, blood, gore, obsession, protectiveness, stalking, and much more. Him being dirtyhands. Dark!yandere.

You, beautiful darling will be so right. Kaz brekker is a monster, one that is yours.

Dirtyhands? Bastard of the barrel? Is feral for you.

But he wants nothing more then for you to be happy, safe and sound. That’s good right? It is when he doesn’t go to the lengths he does.

But let’s talk about yandere kaz for a minute, the good things…

Will get you anything your hearts desires.

He gets you so many gifts, like you can’t keep track. When he learns that you like something it’s gotten…Stolen.

You want a new dress? Boom, it’s your favorite color and size just for you. That pretty necklace you looked at in the market? Oh, it’s on your window.

You want the actual hearts of someone who wronged you? You will have it, he will rip it out himself.

You will be followed and protect at every second. Inej and guards he hired to follow you everywhere, even if you don’t know that they are there.

Kaz would treat you …Like money. Craving more. Doing anything to get it. You are his darling.

Would he try and change her mind? Would he even try at all?

No.

Kaz wants you to know his deep love for you. That he would go to any lengths for you. If you think he’s a monster then that’s okay. Because he will never change, ever.

Maybe there’s pride in him that you’re just a little scared of him. Because then you wouldn’t cross him.

But at the same time he will try and show you that he means you no harm. That you, are the light of his life and only others will feel the wraith of Dirtyhands.

So he treats you well, at times.

I think kaz will trap you somewhere, maybe a house just for you to have a live happily but you can not leave. You can have a garden for you to go outside. But you try and escaped? You’re going to be chain up in a room, only a mattress under you until you beg him.

Until you understand that this is for the best and that you are his.

Yandere kaz is over the top and maybe one of the most scary if I’m being honest. You’ve seen how he takes revenge and protects the ones he loves already. But add yandere to the mix? Mans the walking ripper.

He keeps you away from everyone and comes to visit you every day. Guards around ever nook and cranny. Put you have everything you ever want or need there.

And, he knows you might get lonely sometimes so maybe a cat? Or a dog to help with that. Also the only people he lets see you are the crows, but they have their limits.

If you were ever kidnapped somehow..

Bro goes crazy as shit. Will blow the city up just looking for you. He will not sleep or eat until he finds you.

When he finds out where you have been taken then it’s war. He will torture the living bastards for it, and if you are hurt? Them that’s each wound their families will take.

Sorry I’m getting to much into this. But yandere kaz is just so dark to me.

Though after all this, you are his and he knows. You can take as long as you need because you both have forever. And he will be waiting until you except it.

[blushk1tten]

12 days of kinkmas 2024 ꨄ day 3

the naughty list (spanking + degradation)

schlatt was ready to snap, and you were anxiously awaiting it. you woke up that morning feeling irritable, like your skin was too small for your body. originally, you couldn’t figure out what was wrong, or how to fix your attitude. maybe it was the anxiety of the upcoming holidays? then, the more you noticed schlatt growing short with your temper, the more you realized your answer: you just needed a good, rough fuck from your boyfriend.

as a result, you began acting brattier than usual. you just lounged around, whining at schlatt to do things for you, and complaining about everything else that needed done without helping. you were acting like a spoiled princess, but you were close to getting what you wanted.

at least, you thought you were, until a final complaint from you caused schlatt to scoff, and his frustration began to leak out.

“i know what you’re doing, toots.”

“what am i doing?” you asked, voice dripping with faux innocence.

“you’re acting like a brat so i fuck you.”

“is it working?”

he chuckled, standing up and throwing you over his shoulder. “i’ll show you how it’s working.”

you were excited as he took you to your room and tossed you on the bed. then, he gave a single command: “strip.”

for once that day, you listened without complaint, tossing your clothes aside. once you were completely naked, schlatt grabbed you once again. however, rather than manhandling you beneath him or on top of him, he put you ass up across his lap. before you could process it, his heavy, large hand came down on your ass with a loud smack.

“jay!” you yelped, trying to look back at him and receiving another rough smack in reply.

“keep your head down and don’t complain,” he growled. “if you want to act like a brat, i’ll treat you like a brat.”

you tried to look back again, still protesting. “but—”

the crack of his hand against your skin had you going silent, save for a small whine. truly, being spanked wasn’t bad either, but you knew schlatt would draw it out and tease you. sure enough, schlatt began to list the rules, his hand gently kneading your ass.

“i was only gonna spank you ten times for being bratty today, but since you don’t know how to be quiet, i decided we’re adding five every time you talk,”

your mouth opened to complain, but you thought better of it and stayed silent. schlatt smirked at the sight. “good. you ready, toots?”

knowing the response he wanted, you nodded. then, it began. schlatt counted every slap and smack to your rear, all while you bit your lip to stop yourself from talking. however, to make it more torturous, he began talking you through it.

“i can see you biting your lip— eight—” he chuckled, bringing his hand down for another hard smack. “does my dirty little slut like this? are you trying not to beg for more?”

a whimper escaped you at schlatt’s words, making him give a small tsk on his next slap. “i could add five more for that, but i think you’d enjoy that too much. you fucking love the feeling of my hand on your ass, don’t you?”

as if proving his point, when he spanked you particularly rough for the tenth strike, your back arched and your ass came even higher up. it was like you were begging for more, even without your words.

“shit, toots,” schlatt groaned. “i don’t even feel like this is teachin’ you a lesson. you’re soaking my lap like the horny little brat that you are,”

he counted three more spanks, all done in rapid succession. then, he adjusted you in his lap. your head was hazy in the best way from the “punishment,” so you barely noticed until he began speaking again.

“i think i need to spank your stupid little pussy to teach you a lesson instead.”

a shriek of pleasure escaped you as, true to his word, schlatt’s fourteenth smack came down right on your core. the intensity you had been feeling turned up to eleven, and you could feel yourself growing wetter against his lap. after slap fifteen, you knew you were in trouble. your boyfriend clearly had a new goal in mind besides “punishing” you. his new goal was to make you cum while he spanked you. the feeling was creeping closer as well, especially as schlatt continued degrading you between strikes.

sixteen.

“you gonna cum, toots?”

seventeen.

“are you gonna squirt all over me like the naughty little slut you are?”

eighteen.

“i’d ask if you’re ever gonna act like a brat again, but i know you will after this.”

nineteen.

“you just can’t get enough of it, acting like you’re on the fuckin’ naughty list.”

it was perfectly timed, with your orgasm striking along with the twentieth and final spank. you could feel yourself soaking schlatt’s lap as you cried out, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. you couldn’t even process anything beyond the pleasure you felt and the pleasant sting in your ass and pussy.

when you finally came back to earth, your vision was still fuzzy. however, you could feel schlatt gently lying you on the bed so he could clean you up.

“you did so good, toots. i’m so proud of you.” he murmured, gently wiping you clean with a washcloth.

you giggled softly, watching him as your vision slowly returned to normal. “am i on the nice list now?”

schlatt just chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “yeah, you’re on the nice list now.”

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠɪɪɪ - ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪꜱᴍ

pairing: neteyam x metkayina!reader

➽ a/n: i actually quite enjoyed this, and this might also have to get a part two at some point in the rest of kinktober. i can't believe i officially participated in every day so far - i don't know how much longer i can keep this up, considering i write these the day before hahaha, but i will try my best xx love u besties, smooches 🤍

➽ words: 1.1k words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: dry humping

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

Nights in Awa’atlu were sparkling and beautiful, filled with an aura that was missing in the forest. There was brightness that stretched for miles and miles, a pleasantly humid air that made each moment feel relaxing, almost like a break from the confines of the fear that etched so deep in the Omaticayan consciousness, after the humans returned. The sky was as clear as Neteyam only saw it on special evenings where he took his ikran to the top of the Hallelujah mountains and slept there, put to sleep by the blinking, beautiful lights that he knew from Norm were other planets, foreign and distant, but beautiful in their own way… just like you. 

Neteyam was taken with you from the moment he spotted you in the crowd, as his family arrived on the now familiar island. He could barely believe his eyes, or his mind, that short-circuited a little taking your beauty in, transcendent and incandescent. He wasn’t one for outwardly declarations of love, or obnoxious displays of affection, so his approach was subtle and, to his dismay, was all in vain, as soon as, after settling in the village, he realised you were already promised to someone else, someone he didn’t particularly liked, and yet, this was a line he couldn’t justify crossing for nearly anything.

Sometimes, he felt like you reciprocated his feelings - you would look at him in a certain way, smile with a twinge of longing or want in your eyes, find ways to stay close to him or correct his form on the Tsurak, even when he feels like he’s mastered it. But it can’t be, and Neteyam knew his mind was playing tricks on him - cruel, unsavoury tricks, meant to torture him and wreck what little lucidity he felt he possessed whenever it came to you. You weren’t his - you couldn’t be. So Neteyam would have to find joy in the little moments, the glances and fleeting touches. 

At least that’s what he thought. 

It didn’t feel like that right now, hidden from sight in a mangrove tree, a place he normally liked to come and think, or be alone, or take a break from essentially being a parent to 3 children he didn’t help bring to life, a place that he was now stuck in and suddenly felt tainted, as he was watching events unfold that, if he was honest with himself, he’s pictured doing with you for a while now. Your back was neatly pressed against the bark of the tree, head pushed back to give Aonung access to your neck, that he was ruthlessly attacking, the purple bruises starting to appear visible even to him, looking down from an elevated tree branch. You seemed to enjoy it, though, your small, lewd moans echoing through the clearing until it hit his ears like a melodic choir, making blood travel instantly to his lower half. 

“Fuck.” It was wrong, being here, looking at you like this, but what was his alternative? Jump from the tree, interrupting what was clearly a scene no one was supposed to be privy to, make it known he’s been there, lurking unintentionally? Absolutely not. It was wrong, but shit, watching you like this, free and uninhibited, picturing how much better he could be fucking you, how he’d eat you out until you’d be pushing his head away from your core with your hands, how you’d not put nearly the effort you could be into it because you secretly wanted more, how you’d curse and mewl as he entered you, stretching you out, over and over, until the shape of him was imprinted on you… 

All these thoughts, swirling in his head, mixed with the images and sounds he’s only known in his mind’s eye until now, made the already tented tewng so tight it hurt, so he found relief in his hands, palming himself over his clothes until the pain dulled, but not as much as necessary. He was rock hard now, watching you as you shifted positions and pushed him until he fell to the ground, straddling his hips and grinding on him, allowing the pleasure to overcome your senses. Guess some things are better done yourself, especially if the company wasn’t… satisfactory, huh? 

Your face looked so blissful, contracted in unadulterated pleasure, eyes shut tightly and eats pushed back flat against your head, your canines dug in your plush lips so deeply there was blood dripping down your chin and onto your azure chest. Your hands were desperately grabbing at your tits, twisting your nipples in between your fingers and the sight was so impossibly erotic, Neteyam couldn’t help himself anymore. It was so easy, easier than it’s ever been, getting out of his cloth, shuddering lightly when his length encountered the crisp night air. His hand fisted on his cock, pumping himself vigorously, the precum staining his fingers as it erupted from his tip. Looking at you, perverted and nefarious images behind his eyelids, of your pretty little mouth around his cock, he was shocked when he realised your eyes were open and staring at him, needy and desperate look hidden beneath the surface, the shock on your face quickly dissipating to unleash desire and hunger and smirking lips. 

You continued grinding on the chief's son, your moans and mewls increasing with each second you were getting closer to release, your eyes locked onto Neteyam’s throbbing cock, desperate to find out how it would feel splitting you open, pumping you full on his cum until it spilled all around you and down your ass. You hoped he could hear you, read your lips - you needed him to hear this, you needed to moan it as he was rutting into you like an animal in heat, but this will have to do for now.

“Make me cum, pretty boy.” 

You couldn’t even hear the whispers of the man beneath you, not as your mind was empty of everything but him, not as your orgasm hit you like a torrential storm in spring, ready to tarnish everything in its path. You came at the same time, moaning a breathy slur of his name that only you could recognise for what it was - for now. Tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, Neteyam would learn to know every whimper coming out of your mouth for what it meant, and you’d learn his, as he fucked you dumb and you let him, as you rode him like your life depended on it, as you let him use you, your pussy, your mouth, your whole entire body. 

When the high subsided and you gathered yourself, you heard Aonung speak as through a foggy, far-away echo.

“So… was that good for you?” 

You suppressed a chuckle, eyes finally snapping from the tree and carefully avoiding his. 

“Yeah… yeah, that was good for me.” 

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl@linydoll @the-mourning-moon

[hyog-blog]

The Story of Pearl Girl (ep. 35 - ep. 40) [end of series][spoilers]

Out of all the show's tropes, this one did it for me - knowing that you will die soon, for sure, and spending your last days with the person you love the most, cherishing each and every bit of it. This was just heart-wrenching to watch, mostly due to Liu Yuning's and Zhao Lusi's stellar acting. I mean the TORMENT is not just real, it's almost unbearable, but also, somehow, you can feel so much love and appreciation and, actually, light during those last days of Yan Zijin.

Probably because of his attitude. Like, it hurts, more than anything, but there's also one more hour you can spend with the woman you love, and then a whole day, and maybe one day more. Isn't that all that we could really ask for? The most precious moments line up like pearls to form a beautiful necklace. But then, eventually, everything fades away, both good and bad.

Of course, she knew he was poisoned. With her level of intelligence, I'd be surprised if she didn't. The fall of the bad guys was a bit meh, I mean, yes, that's what Yan Zijing was killing himself for, but in the end, that was not what truly mattered. But his family's name did get cleared, so he achieved his life's mission. Alas, he didn't have the time to enjoy the ordinary, simple pleasure of a life surrounded by the people you love and care about. it's kind of a happy ending for Yan Zijing, but with a very dramatic twist, which was obvious from the start, no one even tried to hide it. The poison was there, I just hoped for some ridiculous miraculous last-minute saving. Which didn't happen, but like with most things in life - we get some good stuff, we get some bad stuff, it's a mix.

I can see how ep. 40 could inspire a few depressions out there, but the message is still surprisingly hopeful. Justice prevailed, the bad guys got what they deserved, and the good guys, well, they took whatever happiness came their way, just like we do in real life. Su Muzhe did become the free-spirited trader she always dreamed of being, traveling far and wide just like Yan Zijing did. Cui Shijiu rose from the ashes and finally got her shit together XD Becoming a smart and cool girl we knew she could be, but for some reason, it just wasn't happening.

I have to admit there was a moment between Su Muzhe and Cui Shijiu, when our girl called the other one zhiji and all that wine-drinking was happening. I mean, I could totally see things going more than a little bit queer if the show wanted to go there. With all those powerful female characters, it would have totally worked. It was a lovely hint, though, which I enjoyed immensely :D

I need to go and watch some kittens now XD And remember there's more to life than torturous romance and people in love who can't be with each other. Still, I appreciate this show very, very much. I ended up loving every bit of it, surprisingly. It's very realistic in many aspects, maybe less so in others, but when put together, everything works great. Zhao Lusi's and Liu Yuning's acting is just 5 stars, they are both seriously amazing actors and their chemistry in both happiness and suffering and everything in between is truly top-notch.

I can see how this show might not be everyone's cup of tea, but we're all different, so it's okay. But I'm happy I watched it and that it was made, and I wish ZL and LYN much happiness and more great roles in the future.

Yep, he doesn't know it yet, but she knows already. And you can see it by the way she treats him, just playing along to keep the illusion of happiness going. They're such a bittersweet couple.

And not Kang Ju working as a model for female jewelry))) That moment just made me giggle, he's such a cutie))

Everyone posing for a family portrait. I almost thought they were foreshadowing another one of Li Kui's attacks that would kill half of the cast, but I was wrong. It was just a sweet happy moment shared between friends and co-workers.

And not Kang Ju asking whether he's actually so pretty in real life, too XD

More heartbreaking moments hide behind the seemingly happy surface. You can literally see it in her eyes that she already knows everything.

Some girl-to-girl romance, happily celebrating the fall of the Zheng family. All smiles and cutesy talk. Effortlessly qeer-ish.

Then back to the emotional torment of being unable to say goodbye to each other. YZJ cooking for her continuously to show his love. And Su Muzhe asking Yan Zijing not to leave, finally showing her true feelings. Pure 100% heartbreak.

It's been a nice, although a bit hectic ride 💖

[babydollmarauders]

PDA — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN'S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “Please just kiss me already.” with Luke.

“you guys are disgusting.”

my boyfriend and i are sprawled across the couch; Luke laid down on his back, and me laid down on my stomach on top of him between his legs. Luke and i separate our lips, looking over to Ethan and Mark who stand in the living room entryway.

“you’re just jealous that you don’t have anyone to be like this with.” Luke taunts, tightening his grip around me, letting his hand slide down to rest on my ass.

“no.” Ethan tells him. “i’m disgusted because you guys can never keep your hands off each other.”

“can you blame me? look at her!” my boyfriend exclaims. “actually, don’t look at her.”

“i wasn’t gonna look at her anyways.” Ethan states, flopping down into the armchair a few feet away.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i ask, purely intending to make him flustered. “am i not pretty, E?”

his eyes grow wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish.

“no! i- uh i mean yes! er-” he stutters over his words, not sure of how to respond, and Luke bites back a laugh.

“she’s fucking with you, bro.” Mark chuckles, slapping Ethan on the shoulder as he passes by the armchair, taking a seat at the opposite of the couch from Luke and i. Ethan looks at me, finding me red faced from holding in laughter.

“you’re mean.” Ethan counters me with a glare.

“she’s an angel.” Luke defends me, pressing a kiss to my lips once again.

“thank you, baby.” i mumble against his lips.

“Ethan’s right, you guys are disgusting.” i pull away to glance at Mark, who watches us with a wrinkled nose and a frown.

“we are not!” i rebut.

“ya know what? i dare you guys to see who can go the longest without kissing the other!” Ethan nearly shouts. Luke and i exchange a glance before i send Ethan a side eye.

“why would we do that?” i ask him.

“because i’ll give the winner a hundred dollars.” he tells me. Luke and i give each other another glance, making our decision.

“okay.” Luke says.

“okay?” Ethan repeats.

“okay.” Luke confirms. “it’s just not kissing. it can’t be that hard.”

**

it’s hard. it’s much harder than i think we assumed it would be. i didn’t anticipate the amount of times we would lean in to give our normal every day kisses before remembering we weren’t allowed. it’s only been one day and it feels like torture.

“i don’t like this.” i pout for the third time today.

“i know you don’t.” Luke chuckles, running a hand over my hair from where my head rests on his chest. we’re laying in his bed, cuddled up together before his game.

“it sucks.” i tell him. “i didn’t get my good morning kiss.”

“or your mid-afternoon kiss.” he reminds me. before i can speak, the bedroom door swings open, revealing Dylan.

“hurry up and get ready, we have 20 minutes.” he tells us before walking away, leaving the bedroom door wide open behind him. i groan, clinging to Luke a little tighter.

“baby, i have to get ready.” he coos, attempting to peel my arms off of him.

“you won’t get your good luck kiss.” i frown. that statement makes him freeze. i’ve come to learn that some hockey players are very superstitious. Luke being one of them. he genuinely believes that if he gives me a kiss before he leaves sophomore house every game day, they’ll win. it’s worked so far, so i can’t really blame him.

“shit.” he curses. he hums as he gets up from the bed, trying to think of a solution. i watch him with curious eyes while he gets ready, changing into his arrival outfit and making sure he has all his gear in his bag.

and i follow silently as he sulks down the stairs to the other boys who are waiting for us by the front door.

“i’ll see you at Yost?” his hands grip my waist, mine winding around his neck.

“yeah, i’ll be there.” he nods at my confirmation before we pull apart, him heading towards the door.

“aren’t you forgetting something?” Ethan teases, a smirk drawn across the lower half of his face.

“don’t be an asshole.” Dylan retorts, smacking Ethan’s chest. “this could be our downfall.”

Luke let’s out a stressed sigh at Dylan’s words, and i know this is hard for him.

“Luke?” i call out. he turns to look at me, raising his brows in questioning. “please just kiss me already.”

i don’t have to tell him twice. he struts forward, pulling me in by my belt loops and crashing his lips to mine. his lips are soft and he tastes like the red gatorade he was drinking earlier.

“dear jesus, one day. you guys lasted one day.” Ethan groans. Luke pulls away, sending a glare to his close friend.

“shut up, Eddy.”

-

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

If the wizarding world instituted The Purge (I only know the concept, never seen it), do you think any of the "good guys" would actually kill death eaters?

That's actually an interesting thought.

I was about to say yes but then I had to think about it.

Harry and Hermione are my top contenders but each might not go for it.

Harry

The thing about Harry is that he prides himself on never killing anyone or attempting to do so. Yes, he attempts an Unforgivable torture curse twice (fails once, succeeds the other) but he has a very big thing where he purposefully uses Expelliarmus because it cannot kill. This is what keeps Harry, in his mind, from being Voldemort or like him.

While being legally allowed to kill Death Eaters would be a tempting solution for him, it's also one that would appropriately wig him out as he doesn't want to go down that road.

On the other hand, if it's been normalized to him through Ron (e.g. the way House Elves are) and this is just a thing wizards do every year and it's totally normal and fine and a chance to get revenge and things...

Yeah, Harry's going all in baby.

Hermione

If Hermione bought into this law, absolutely, hundred percent waits until Purge day then kills does what she feels must be done to Umbridge, Death Eaters, you name it.

Hermione all but does this in canon, she only does what she can get away with but she feels full justification in doing some pretty horrific shit to both people she likes (her parents) and people she doesn't like (Umbridge, Rita, Marianne, etc.)

That said, if this isn't a thing in the Muggle world and isn't normalized for Hermione, she'd see it as a horrible corrupt practice of wizards that she of course must never engage in. In which case she would not partake.

[retroellie]

The Weight of the World

Summary: the horrors of the world are once again nipping at you, decisions that could lead to deaths lay upon your shoulders. Daryl wants to cheer you up in the way he knows you love.

A/N: I know it’s late but I wanted to post another Daryl fic because I’m a whore for him :) This is kinda sloppy and I made in like 2 hours on very little sleep so hey :) enjoy <3

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of torture (regular twd things) , dirty talk, unprotected sex

Word count: 3.7K

This week has been exhausting, mentally and physically. Your body felt as though someone had piled pounds of bricks on top of you, all the while scratching at your bruised skin. It was draining you of your emotions and ability to function. The whisperers were gaining on Alexandria, the threat of the hoard being released floating over everyone’s heads. This caused panic and worry, the walls wouldn’t be able to withhold them and the people inside couldn’t fight them off.

This led to everyone in the council, you and daryl included, to make some hard decisions. Everyone that ran the town was on their toes at all times, always looking for answers to every problem that threatened the town you called home. These problems led to you having to take care of alphas daughter, trying to hunt down Negan and now you even had a whisper tied up underneath your home. You were barely getting any sleep, barely eating and you had no time to spend with Daryl which meant your relationship wasn’t doing the best.

Obviously Daryl understood this, he was also dealing with shit and didn’t have time to do anything for himself. With trying to locate the hoard as well as trying to keep Carol from killing everyone, he had his hands full. The way this was affecting you hurt him though, seeing your exhausted eyes, all red and puffy all the while you were trying to come up with a plan to hunt down negan… it pained him. He was used to having so much on his plate that this didn’t affect him too harshly, he could go days without sleep and only live in crackers but you weren’t like him.

He tried to tell you to get some sleep and even tried to force some food down your throat but you didn’t have time. He just let you take your time because that’s all he could do, is wait for you to realize that none of this shit mattered. You would always find a way to get everything back to it, it always worked out for y’all so Daryl wasn’t too worried about you going sleepless and hungry for too long.

For now though you trudged up the stairs to your shared home with Daryl and Carol, or pretty much everyone who came and went a lot. You were exhausted and honestly disgusted at what you just did. Before this moment you had watched carol beat the ever living fuck out of a whisperer and you even got a few punches in there. This didn’t feel like you, you weren’t the type yo torture someone and you were even the one who was strongly against it. Well that’s until the man started talking, he gave strong details about what he’d do to you if he was a free man and found you in the woods.

You were mad, you couldn’t help but lay him flat on his ass and maybe you even took a few fingers with you. But right now though, you told Lydia to make herself at home. You made her comfortable in your guest bed room, giving her blankets and towels for if she wanted to wash up. After that though you walked downstairs to the basement to yours and Daryl’s shared room.

When you stepped foot into the room you saw Daryl, he was unpacking his backpack, setting his crossbow and bows down. You stared at him for a minute, wondering what he was thinking. He did just see you torture a man, well a man that was talking about sexually assaulting his girlfriend. Daryl has done things he’s not proud of, he has seen the dark underbelly of people but what was he thinking about his “innocent '' little girlfriend doing those same things.

You shook your head, walking towards the coach and plopping down. You laid your head back, trying to stretch out your stiff muscles and shake the exhaustion off tired bones. You sighed, putting your feet up on top of the coffee table as you shut your eyes for a split moment.

“You need sleep.” You heard Daryl say, not turning around to look at you.

You looked over at him, seeing him mess with his backpack. You rolled your eyes slightly, you hated when he said that. It was maybe the 30th time you had heard those words come out of his mouth and everytime it annoyed you. I mean how could you rest when everything, the fate of Alexandria, the protecting of your friends, the capturing of the man who killed your friends, was all on your shoulders.

“Yeah…” was all you said, you didn’t feel like protesting.

You sat up, starting to untie your shoes. They were muddy and covered in blood. Come to think of it, you were covered in blood. The whisperer's blood still streaked your clothes, still fresh but it was starting to dry on your skin. You quickly took off your boots, not wanting to think of the horrors you just did and just wanting to lie on this couch with no worries, if that was even possible. When you succeed with pulling your shoes off you stand up once more, pulling off your bloody sweater.

You lifted it up to see all the blood had stained it, still bright red and standing to attention. You rolled your eyes, throwing it over to the dirty clothes basket and then making your way to the dresser that sat right next to the table Daryl stood at. You dug through the drawers, trying to find another shirt you could wear.

Daryl couldn’t help but watch as you dug through the drawers, watching your bra covered breast heave up and down. He knew it was wrong of him, seeing you in such a distressed state and getting all hot but he couldn’t help it. While you both were neglecting your relationship, your sex life hadn't been much better. So the slight glimpse of your unclothed body would send Daryl in a mood of wanting your touch.

You found a shirt, a clean band tee that you’ve had forever now and you stood in the mirror that laid against the wall. You could see yourself in your entirety now. The blood had stained through your clothes and onto your stomach along with your chest but also you had new bruises forming which added onto the pain of your exhaustion. You didn’t even hear or see Daryl sneak up behind you, you were too focused on your blood soaked body right now.

He had crept his hands around your waist, being careful as to not press too hard onto your newly formed bruises. You jumped slightly before remembering he was in the room with you, then you melted back into him.

“Even all bloody and smelly, you’re still the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen..” he whispered, taking one hand and moving your hair from your neck.

You chuckled as his lips attached to your neck softly. He kissed the spots that made you nothing but putty in his hands, your eyes closed slowly as he did wonders with his lips. His hands gripped onto your hips softly, rubbing soft circles on your skin. He tried to be careful with your fragile body, knowing you could take anything that comes your way but wanting to be the one thing that made you feel like you didn’t have to try.

His lips attached to your neck, biting down lightly on the spot that made you gasp. You pressed yourself into him, your ass grazing his hardening cock. He let out a soft groan, biting down harder onto your soft skin. One of his hands made their way up to your breasts, needing one of them in his hands gently. This caused you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, moaning softly at the sudden touch.

He sucked harder on your skin, your reaction fueling his actions. You couldn’t deny how touch starved you were, how weak in the knees you had gotten when seeing Daryl in his button up shirts, all sweaty and dirt streaked his face. This was hell to you, not being able to be with him every day. It ate you up inside and Daryl knew it, there just wasn’t enough time. It was either you were gone or he was gone or Gabriel asked you to do this or Carol asked Daryl to do that… it was never ending. Moments like this you basked in them, you soaked them up and right now you were going to take it.

“What you did to that man…” he spoke in between his kisses.

The hand in your hip lowered down to the top of your jeans, unbuttoning them slowly. His actions were drawn out, going as slow as he could to take in the moment with you.

“Seein’ you like that… so angry and aggressive” he continued.

He unzipped your fly, giving you feather-like kisses on your skin now. His fingers danced above your panties, teasingly slow as you grabbed onto his hand that was continuing his movement on your boob. Your body had turned burning hot and he was the only one that could cool you down now.

“I think that might’ve been the hottest thing I had ever seen you do…” he admitted, slipping his fingers into your panties before teasing your slit.

Daryl watched you from a far as you beat the living hell out of the whisperer, watching him beg for you to stop as you put the blade against his throat. You were angry, you hadn’t been this angry in a long time and the anger just kept building up until you couldn’t handle it anymore. He watched as your arms flexed every time you threw a punch, making the blush on his face more noticeable. He was so in love with you, with everything you did even something so disgusting like what you were doing.

You’re finger dug into his hand, practically begging him to touch you without even saying anything. He chuckled lowly, giving you everything you wanted and more. He shoved two fingers in you without hesitation, making you gasp out into the air. The feeling of the delicious stretch blurred your senses, leaning more on Daryl than you already had been. It had been so long since you two have had such an intimate moment like this, weeks maybe a month at most. The stress of it all really affects your desire for intimacy but your love never dulled.

You bucked your hips against Daryl’s fingers, your wetness already making a mess out of them. It didn’t take you long to become a quivering mess, your moans trying to escape your mouth but being swallowed back down. You were embarrassed at your sensitivity, you were well respected around town for being so high headed but all it took was Daryl’s fingers to show what you really are… a needy little whore.

“Come on honey… don’t hold up on me now.” He whispered in your ear, biting your lobe lightly.

Daryl curled his fingers in a rough way, grazing your g-spot.You bit your lip harder, not wanting the two girls who were just above you to hear what was happening just below them. Daryl grinned at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He sped up his movements, thrusting his fingers deep inside of you before curling them to graze your spot again before continuing to thrust deeper inside.

Your body felt like it was on fire, your blood streaked skin turning bright red and your face had a small sheet of sweat that coated it. You wanted more of Daryl … no not wanted, you needed it. You could cum with just his fingers now but you wanted all of him inside you, you wanted to feel him so deep inside you that all the horrible things that man said to you were far gone and all you could think about was how good Daryl’s cock felt inside you. You were nobody’s bitch but Daryl’s, no matter if you admired it or not.

“Daryl… please.. just fuck me… SHIT.” You yelled out at a particular delicious angle that Daryl hit.

Daryl didn’t hesitate to your surprise, with his fingers still deep inside you, he walked you over to the desk that he was once sitting on and slammed you on top of it. You felt your bruises as he did so but it felt so good, you didn’t mind it.

“Dirty slut… so needy for my cock” Daryl hissed, taking his fingers out of you and quickly shoving them in your mouth.

It took you a minute to register what was happening, your body still aching from injury but when his fingers hit your tongue and you could taste your own juices… you sucked them clean. Daryl’s free hand grabbed your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail so he could pull you up to watch as you sucked on his fingers.

“You like that hmmm..???” He teased, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth until they reached the back of your throat. “You like when I treat you like the whore you are hmm… so cock starved for me?”

You licked every crevice of his fingers, loving the taste of yourself mixed with Daryl’s flesh and all Daryl could do was watch you. He subconsciously rubbed against your ass, getting insanely hard just watching you.  You moved your head to the side, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. He took his now clean fingers out of your mouth, watching as a single piece of your saliva connected the two.

“I just want you inside me Daryl!!” You started bucking your hips back onto his hard cock. “Please, I’ll do anything!! Just please fuck me until I can’t stand, in anyway you want too just please!! I want you!!” You pleaded

You sounded pathetic you know but you were desperate for him. You have wanted him so badly for weeks now, the sexual frustration building up until just now when all you can think about is him rearranging your insides. Daryl grinned, pulling on your hair tighter. He thought about all the ways he was going to make you suffer tonight, thinking about how he’d fuck you silly until everyone in the whole town could hear and he couldn’t wait to make his thoughts a reality. Daryl moved his hand down to your pants, ripping them off your legs and then started to remove his own.

“You're gonna wish you never begged me hun…” he said, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. “Because I ain’t going to hold back…”

Daryl moved his hand from your hair to your neck, wrapping his hand around your neck before tightening his grip. He lined himself up to you, teasing your entrance slowly, getting his cock nice and wet so he could fuck you nice and smooth.

“Gonna fuck you until your just a cock dumb whore…” he whispered, putting small amounts of pressure on your neck.

You bucked your hips back at him, wanting him inside you already and he was going to give you what you wanted. He shoved himself in you quickly, feeling your velvety walls along the way could make him cum just then. He held himself back from going at an animalistic pace, trying to allow you to adjust to him since it had been a couple weeks. You swore you could feel your eyes go cross eyed, he was in you so deep right off the bat.

He stayed there for a moment until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to fill you up, he needed to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. He pulled himself almost all the way out before ramming into you nice and deep once again. He kept his slow deep pace for only minutes until his hips began to have a mind of their own and started thrusting into you wildly.

His hand on your throat, the table digging into your hips, his cock filling you… it was enough to send you off of earth completely. You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth this time, they fell out of your lips like honey and Daryl basked in them, they only encouraged his movements.

“God…you’re so fuckin’ tight…” he spit out, his free hand exploring your body, making their way to your bra that had somehow still been on.

He grabbed at one of your boobs, feeling the soft flesh beneath his fingers as he played with it. This sent you to overdrive, you were so close to an orgasm and Daryl knew too but he had no intentions of stopping. He only sped up his actions, fucking you at such a fast pace you were cumming in mere seconds after that.

The orgasm ran through your body, leaving you shaking and unable to stand properly. Daryl kept his pace, only slowly down when you clenched around him tightly, making sure you were okay but then keeping up with his same pace before. You didn’t want him to stop, even after orgasming once you still craved the feeling of him filling you to the brim.

His hand on your neck tightened more once again but this time he brought you up, pulling your flush against his front. Brought you into a kiss, a sloppy wet kiss that had no real rhythm to it. Teeth masked, tongues collided and lips were bitten. Daryl’s hand on your boob hooked around the cup of your bra, pulling them down along with the straps.

“Lemme see those tits hmm…” he hummed in between a kiss.

Your tits bounced free which caused Daryl’s attention to be turned to them. The way they bounced every thrust made Daryl feral, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out of your for only a split second, taking the time to flip you over onto your back and placing you on top of the table.

Your reaction was delayed due to your post orgasm brain fog but also you being on the verge of yet another orgasm. Daryl spread your legs as far as he could, spread you out so deliciously for him and than he went right back to fucking you. Your head cocked back, resting on the wall as your face was stuck in a look of pure pleasure.

“Daryl! Please.... FUCK... cum inside me....” you screamed out, wrapping your legs around his waist basically pinning him inside you.

Daryl thrusted harder and harder, his hips becoming more wild as he came closer to his orgasm. You pulled him closer to you, kiss him roughly as you pulled his dark locks. You were so close to your second orgasm when Daryl came deep inside of you, his cum filling you up so nicely. Daryl’s hips slowed but still continued to fuck himself through his own orgasm while also brining your closer to your own . You bucked your hips into his as your brain was once again taken by a earth shattering orgasm that almost knocked you clean out.

You felt Daryl twitch inside you as you came, his orgasm wiping him out as well. He stayed close to you as you saw stars, his hand rubbing your back softly and comfortably. You were shaking violently underneath him, his cum along with yours mixed onto the table and created a sticky mess. You two stayed silent for a minute or two, taking in the stillness of the room.

It was moments like this that you would choose over anything. Moments so intimate yet so filthy, it was pure heaven to you. Daryl felt the same, he would give anything just to be able to be in this moment forever. You comfortably stroked Daryl’s back with your fingernails, pulling him close to you.

“I missed you…” Daryl whispered

You had been here this whole time, you guys never left each other’s side… you had made an agreement not too a long time ago when you first met in Atlanta. Daryl couldn’t explain the way he missed you though, you were there but you weren’t THERE to him. Only a stressed out shell of what you used to be. He can’t blame you, you’ve been through a lot these last couple of months and he’s been with you through it all.

“I’ve been here the entire time dar…” you spoke, voice worn and almost gone.

“No I mean.. I missed YOU… I missed the Y/N I have always known.” He explained

He didn’t mean that in a mean way but he just knew that this world changed you into a person you weren’t and he could start to see it happen to you. The shy little book reading girl you once were was disappearing and being replaced by this emotionless woman. He loves you for every version you were but he wanted to see the real you and not the one the world has forced you to turn into.

“Well… you Daryl Dixon, are the only one who can ever bring me back to earth…” you stated. “And that’s why I’m so pathetically in love with you.”

Daryl smiled, pulling you into a long kiss that this time felt more romantic and less sloppy. You knew the decisions you still had yet to make were just right out your door but for now you would like to bask in this moment with your lover. You could worry about the horrors of the world later, it can wait and it can be put in pause so you can make this night yours.