#exactly what its like no differences whatsoever

[littleshopofhorrors-confessions]

I think I’m in an abusive relationship with this blog. I consider turning off the NOTIFS but then as soon as I do someone uploads an actually good take onto this blog and then I come running. This is what it’s like being Audrey Fulquard.

---

[apas-95]

Firstly - Yes, it is a necessary part of the struggle against the genocide to engage in protests, boycotts, 'awareness raising' and 'holding accountable', etc. That being said, however, it does absolutely nothing on its own, and far too many people are being far too proud of themselves for an outsized belief in their action.

These things - peaceful protests, boycotts against brands, letters to senators, literally posting - do nothing whatsoever to impact the pace of the genocide being carried out. They have not slowed the advance of Merkava tanks or the flights of F-35s by even a minute. They are effective if and only if they are carried out in conjunction with and support of actual direct action against the war machine. Work stoppages at ports, blockades of weapons manufacturers, these are the bare minimum of actual opposition to the genocide. Further action, like solidarity strikes in the states providing diplomatic and military support for the occupation, general unrest, etc, are sorely needed - and, ultimately, are the only things to be done not premised on appealing to the good conscience of those committing genocide. Your governments do not care what you think of them, they care if you stop working - and they will only stop sending weapons if you physically stop them.

It feels like 2020 taught a lot of people nothing. Massive protests, unthinkable levels of outrage - even met with apparently cowing of the state, overwhelmed with public opposition to their policies. Ultimately, none of the movement's goals survived, and the gestures (which is all that were gotten) faded. Roads were renamed and painted back over. Cops still kill people exactly as much. They know exactly how much you oppose it, they always have. Telling them isn't going to do anything, because it's not news. They don't act this way because they're misguided or have wrong ideas, they do it because it's profitable and in their material interests. The only way to make them act differently is to make them act differently. Either directly, by blocking their actions, or indirectly, by making the endeavour too costly through strikes and other leveraging of the fact that we, as workers, produce all their wealth. Each dollar going to buy IDF missiles ultimately comes from you. You want to stop it? Organise and strike. Physically block weapons movements. Yes, propagandise, talk about it, but for the love of god, don't trick yourself into believing that's the end of it.

The Palestinian resistance isn't limiting themselves to posting and raising awareness. They know that those committing genocide are plenty aware of what they're doing. No, the resistance is taking up arms. They would kill the soldiers of your country if they came across them defending the occupation, and they'd be right to do so. The soldiers of your country would kill you for striking. There is only one war, here.

[sayuri-of-the-valley]

On how Crowley and Aziraphale felt during the kiss (but mainly Crowley here):

Ok so first, the main idea for this huge meta is that a LOT of us noticed how the music from the kiss scene is similar to the nebula one, right?

Second, a lot of us also correctly noticed the parallels between the kiss and how it was to taste food for the first time for Aziraphale: bc of his reactions, the hand on lips, the similar way MS acted both scenes, the little inhale etc. So how was it for Crowley?

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss is practically a puzzle to solve on its own, so it's fun to analyse it, but basically, in a few words, Aziraphale kissed Crowley and he discovered he was physically starving for him, longing for him, yearning for him, for his kiss, and he had no idea. Just like with the ox. And now he needs to gorge himself in him but he can't. Great amazing heartbreaking chef's kiss someone give MS an Emmy.

But there's already so much amazing meta out there about Aziraphale x Ox ribs x The Kiss that I want to focus on Crowley here, and on the music.

So back to the music. The song in "Before the Beginning" and the song that plays during The Kiss (I Forgive You + Don't Bother) are so similar. They're not *exactly* the same, but they're totally reminiscent of each other. The viewer is immediately reminded of those chords that played in the opening scene. It's no coincidence that the fandom was talking about this fact only minutes after first watching those final fifteen minutes. This is an obvious intentional choice for storytelling reasons (David Arnold is a genius).

I have no expertise whatsoever when it comes to music, so I asked our friend @otsanda to see if that made sense and not only it does and she explained it, but she also uncovered so much more hidden meaning in all of it (musicians are amazing), so check out her meta about the music that not only serves as evidence to what I'm proposing here but it also has so much more juicy information in it 💖.

Back to the point: WHY thought? Why choose a similar song? Why intentionally COMPOSE a similar song for that moment?

Hear me out. WHAT IF, by reminding the audience of the creation of the nebula, they meant to convey to us that, for Crowley, kissing Aziraphale gave him the same feeling that creating his stars did?

THAT'S what the music is telling us. THAT'S why it makes us remember "Before the Beginning". It may sound cheesy, but Crowley may have literally seen stars when he kissed Aziraphale. He couldn't react accordingly (just like Aziraphale couldn't), bc it was an overwhelming and extremely sad moment (the music is also telling us that) for both of them. They knew it was ending . They were both having a moment of huge revelation that was fated to not come to completion. Crowley was right, it was too late.

It makes sense to show Crowley's feelings through the music, bc he was the one who started the kiss, and also he was wearing sunglasses in that scene, it's different from a character like Aziraphale that has all his million expressions for everyone to see at all times. And they've been doing this ever since s1 with the Queen songs that play in his car or in the background.

So my point is: the same song being used there makes me wonder if kissing Aziraphale finally gave him what he lost. His purpose. What Aziraphale was trying to give back to him by taking him back to heaven. There's no need for Heaven. Just kiss him, Aziraphale, and there he'll find the stars you want to give back to him. There you will one day see that smile on his face you saw Before The Beginning. Neil Gaiman and David Arnold I am in your walls 😭

This is what may lead us to see this happiness in Crowley again (not the action of kissing itself, of course, but what it represents to their relationship, them being together, them being an Us).

As @otsanda said: from the music we can interpret that that moment was a Revelation for them. Almost a religious experience. Crowley found his purpose again. What he'd been missing the whole season (or even his whole life since the Fall, but we've seen him especially depressed this season).

I'm not even getting into the poetry of how one can interpret the parallel to the angel's reaction to the kiss as carnal, and the demon's as religious; that would be another whole essay but let's just agree that it's incredibly beautiful. (Let me be clear that I mean here Aziraphale's reaction is carnal specifically for Crowley, and Crowley's is religious specifically for Aziraphale, not religious as in "worshipping god")

"Do you ever wonder what's the point?" Crowley asked in s2e1. The point, for him, is Aziraphale (if you've seen The Good Place you know what I mean). I hope he figured this out with that kiss, even as heartbreaking as it was. Even if it was a (temporary) separation kiss. (I hope Aziraphale figures this out with time too, that he's more than enough to make Crowley happy, that Crowley doesn't need Heaven, or stars, that Crowley needs him.)

Maybe that's why Crowley didn't leave and kept waiting outside until the very last moment.

Aziraphale and Crowley both bit the apple at the end of s2. There's no turning back from that Knowledge now.

Edit: I just have to add here this brilliant colour analysis of the nebula scene by @halemerry. And it's pointed out that during the nebula formation there's a moment when it looks like two people embracing. And the fact that a similar song is used in the actual Kiss scene I just... I have no words

[fallingdownhell]

i love your recent posts but can i request hurt/comfort genshin impact xiao, wanderer, cyno where like they get into an argument about the reader being weak or something like that

although they didn't mean it, but after a few days after the argument, they see reader like training hard for them because of the fight.

<3

Mhh, always. You know I love me a good dose of angst! And I'm sorry, but I only included two of the requested characters, because otherwise this would haven gotten way too out of hand and too much to read. Hope you're okay with that.

Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer

Content: gender neutral reader; angst; comfort; hurt/comfort; established relationship; arguments between them and reader; shouting and cursing at reader in wanderer's scenario; Kunikuzushi/Kuni is being used for Wanderer

Word count: 2,2k words

Enjoy the read!

Xiao

You have to understand him. He's just looking out for you!

There is a clear, natural difference in strength between you and him!

He's an adeptus after all, and you're just a human! Sure, you possess a vision and you know perfectly well how to utilize it to your advantage in battle, but he's still your boyfriend! Let him be worried about you!

Honestly, he really just had your best interest and saftey in mind when he approached you one day, offering to train with you and possibly make you stronger, since he noticed your form to be a bit lacking when he watched you train.

The problem was, he told you exactly what he was thinking, no filter whatsoever. Which in turn caused you to get a bit defensive with him. That didn't sit right with Xiao, because in his eyes, he was only trying to help you.

This then resulted in a huge argument, where neither of you wanted to back down against the other.

"(Name), for the love of the Archons. Can't you see I'm only trying to help you here?"

"By berating me and telling me all the things I'm doing wrong? Without offering any advise at all? Yeah, great help.", you scoff as you turn your back to your boyfriend, trying to resume your exercise in peace. You were hoping that he would get the hint, to leave you alone. But he didn't.

"I'm really only looking out for you. You lack basic knowledge with the sword and you lack stamina as well. You're moving around too much, you make so many unnecassary movements. The hold you have on your weapon is too loose. Anyone could easily knock it out of your hand. Also-!"

"Okay! I got it!", you suddenly burst out as Xiao keeps on listing the things you're doing wrong in his eyes. It not only frustrated you, but it also made you feel so inferior.. to him and basically everyone else. You know that everyone starts out at some point. Everyone has to learn from the beginning. So why is he being so mean to you? Shouldn't he be more supporting of you as your boyfriend?

"I get it. You've made your point very clear."

You speak again, while Xiao just stares at you, mouth still hanging open. He didn't expect for you to raise your voice like this. You were usually so soft spoken.

You stared into each others eyes for a few more seconds, before you let out a sigh and placed your sword back into its sheat.

"I'm going home.", you announce as you go to grab your stuff. You collect everything and put it in your back, leaving without taking another look at him.

Suddenly, Xiao got the feeling that he made a huge mistake. Not only by "helping" you out with your training, but also as he let you go like this without having a talk with you, but something told him to let you be for the time being.

.....

Well... did he regret letting you just go like that. It has been almost a week since he last saw you, because you refused to call his name like you usually did on a daily basis.

And he was afraid of seeking you out himself, since he feared to only further sour your mood with an unannounced visit from his side. But he wanted to see you again so badly...

When the one week mark was reached without hearing anything from you, Xiao has had enough. He needed to make sure that you were okay. He was certain you would have called his name if you were in mortal danger, despite the argument at hand, but it's better to be safe than sorry. He needed to know you were still alive..

So, he teleported to your home, waiting for a few seconds in front of the door, gathering courage, before knocking on the door. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. He knocked again, but still nothing.

Xiao was about to leave again, scolding himself in his head, because of course you wouldn't open, you obviously didn't want to see him right now, when he heard noises coming from a bit further away.

Deciding to investigate, he followed the noises. And what he saw did shock him a bit..

He saw you, standing in a circle of training dummys, practicing different moves and tactics. He could tell that your hold on the blade has gotten better over the week you have been apart. In fact, everything he had critiqued about your skills seems to have improved...

Have you been training relentlessly this entire time??

This made him feel even more bad about this entire argument. He wanted to help you, not make you overexert yourself like this, just to prove something to him..

Deciding that it was finally time to talk, he approached you. You heard the footsteps coming your direction and turned towards them. Surprised to see Xiao there, you stopped in the middle of your session, facing him.

It was quiet for a few seconds as he arrived in front of you, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to speak up again.

"What? Here to berate me even more?" It sounded way more sarcastic and hurtful than you had intended it to, and you saw Xiao flinch the slightest bit at your words, but you didn't back down from them.

"No..", Xiao answered weakly.

"I'm here to apologize." His words left you surprised, not expecting this at all.

"I didn't realize how much my words were hurting you. That was never my intention, (Name). I.. I'm just worried about you. There is a clear difference in skill, after all, but I shouldn't have been like this to you. I sincerely apologize for the way I treated you."

You have been with Xiao long enough to know two things. First, he was being completely honest with you. You could tell by the tone in his voice and the way he tried to look into your eyes, while also trying to avoid them at the same time, feeling embarrassed about being this vulnerable with someone.

Second, you knew just how hard it was for him to be honest and vulnerable with you. Saying this must have caused so much for him to do, yet he did it anyway.. for you.

For a second, you stood there and stared at him, before sighing and walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his body in a warm, comfortable hug. He did not hesitate for a second before doing the same, having missed this feeling dearly for the past week.

"I don't mind you helping me or giving me advise.. but maybe don't be so brash and insulting about it. Okay?"

He nodded, promising you to be more careful with his words from now on.

Wanderer

You sighed with relief as the Ruin guard in front of you collapsed and shattered into its parts, the cut on your side hurting a bit when you breathed, but it wasn't bleeding too bad, so the wound must not be too bad, either.

You were usually not that easy to surprise, but for some reason, you overlooked that particular ancient machine, resulting in it getting a hit on you before it was taken down.

Though, you were not the one responsible for taking it down. The actual reason was flying in from behind it, your boyfriend, Kuni. And while you were smiling at him, wanting to thank him for his help, he had a scowl on your face as he landed in front of you.

"What the hell were you thinking, Idiot? You would be dead now if it weren't for me being here!", he shouted as soon as he landed, not letting you get a word in.

You were taken aback by his harsh words and tone, staring at him, which only made him even more agitated.

"The hell? You don't even have an excuse! How can you be so fucking careless? I know you're weak but I wouldn't have thought of you being this stupid as well!"

You heard each and every single one of his words, and they all stung right in your chest. You were aware of the difference in power between you two, but that didn't mean you were incompetent with your polearm. You've trained long and hard to get to the point where you are now, and you were proud of yourself for it.

When you looked into his eyes again, you could see a bit of shock behind them, like he was surprised himself that the words actually left his lips.

You waited a few seconds, to see if he would apologize to you or take them back, but nothing came. Kuni's pride hindered him from doing the right thing..

"I see. If that's what you think of me, I won't be in your way again."

The words sounded cold when they left your lips, and Kunikuzushi flinched ever so slightly when hearing them, but you didn't react to it. Instead, you turned and walked away from him without acknowledging his presence any longer.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Where are you going?", he shouted after you, but no response. Then, he chased after you, but when he noticed that you were still ignoring him, he gave up on it, figuring that it would be best to leave you alone for the time being.

Surely, you would come crawling back to him soon enough... right?

....

....

Two weeks.

The incident has happened two weeks ago. And for those two weeks, he did not hear or see anything of you, whatsoever.

He was so sure that you wouldn't even survive a week without him before coming back and apologizing, but it seemed like he was wrong this time.

And he hated to admit this, even to himself, but.. he missed you. Missed your stupid, cheerful smile, your laugh and the way you always made his day better, just by spending time with him.

After about a week and a half, he began to think, that maybe, this time, he was actually the one in the wrong. That maybe, he took it too far with his words this time around.

Maybe.. he should be the one to apologize to you.

And yet, it took him a few more days to overcome his stupidly high pride and actually follow through with his thoughts.

Nahida, who knew all about the situation from Kuni himself, smiled and nodded proudly as the puppet went to leave the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

He first searched for you at your home, but you couldn't be found there. Then, he went on a stroll through the city, hoping to run into you along the way, but that too, proofed to be without success.

His last hope was the adventurers guild, and that someone hopefully has seen you there.

And luck was on his side this time, as some other members told him about how you have constantly been taking commission after commission for the past few days.

Feeling his worries for you rise again, he went to the locations given to him, hoping to find you there.

About an hour or so later, he spotted you at the location of the third commission you took, standing next to a defeated ruin drake while facing another one head on.

He had half a mind to rush over and take care of it for you, but something in him told him to let you handle it yourself. So he watched with bated breath as you easily took care of the machine, letting it fall to the ground while you remained completely unharmed.

That's when he really realized what his words might have caused for you. You are by no means a sheltered human, you're capable of defending yourself, and very well so.

As you were checking the defeated drakes for useful stuff, he came out of his 'hiding spot', walking directly to you. You noticed him approaching but chose to ignore him still. In fact, you've noticed his presence in the middle of the fight, but decided not to call him out and see what he would do.

When he arrived, he just stood next to you in silence for a while, watching you. But when you still wouldn't acknowledge him, he decided to speak up.

"(Name)... I... I'm sorry..", he mumbled quietly. He felt embarrassed, not used to acting like the bigger person, but he was in the wrong here, so he had to do this, no matter what.

The words out of Kuni's mouth caught you by surprise, your head swirling around to look at him, finally.

Kunikuzushi didn't know what else to say right now, so he stayed silent, hoping you would understand how difficult this was for him right now.

"..I'm not weak.", you answered him quietly as well, fully facing him now, but your posture and tone seemed a bit more open and calmer now.

"..I know."

He may not be the best with words, but somehow, you always understood what he wanted to say, anyways. It has always been this way between you. It was one of the many things he loved so much about you.

And that's how it was this time, too. He quietly thanked the Gods when he pulled you into his arms again, holding you for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.

[eydilily]

I absolutely love your art and how detailed it is! If you don't mind me asking, how do you draw/break down faces? Your style is like exactly what I'm hoping to get close to when I draw them

OKAY so huge disclaimer. im self taught and i dont know what im doing most of the time! frankly i have a long way to go with shape language and character design so i will always suggest people to go to actual professionals and masters LMAO.

i am NOT qualified whatsoever, but, i tried to breakdown my thought process in how i currently draw things!!! for my mcyt designs, obviously i take huge inspirations from the actual ccs.

tango has similar hairlines and beard patterns to cc!tango. joel's hairstyle is very much inspired from his younger hairstyles, and pearl has a similarly long oval headshape from cc!pearl.

all of which are completely personal preference. some people take shape inspiration from personalities, voices, or whatever prophetic visions they have in their heads!

this would be the case for my cleo and etho designs. Cleo to me has a sharper voice & personality so i tried to incorporate that into what id think their face would be! etho is kind of . wet cat, but his voice for some reason gives me... round?? shapes?? so he has floppy hair and rounder eyes and ears in my design.

(another disclaimer: looks does not equate to personality, but like. its a lil easier 2 draw. and theyre shorthands and associations)

^ cleo has a higher eyebrow arch, sharp inner eye corner. etho has ears that stick out, uneven haircut, and his roots are darker :D

so its basically 2 big steps! Picking the face shape and then picking out details that would be unique to that character. to make characters different, i try to always pick something different between each person. so more contrast!!!

pearl and gem are easy since theyre opposites visually -- oval vs square, sharp vs round. for skizz and tango, i draw their eyes very similarly. but i decided my skizz would have a longer face and rounder cheeks, whereas tango has a bushier mustache and flatter face.

i am personally very fond of super stylized artstyles,,, i think cartoony / stylized artstyles take a lot of skill and a lot of character design thought into creating unique silhouettes that are still very recognizable! (for instance, huge fan of @/wasyago and @/alienssstufff)

unfortunately my artstyle isnt geared towards that lol, and alot of my face shapes tend to be very similar. so instead, i try to change up eye shapes (very common method of separating characters) and hairstyles! i have a long long way to go and i have a lot of bad habits lol but i hope this shows a little bit on how each of my characters are detailed differently.

[2hightocare]

LOVE WAGER! 02

Synopsis: The concept of love resurfaces as you both agree to center your psychology project on the premise that love is a choice. You propose an intriguing idea to Jungkook: he must exert every effort to make you fall in love with him within a month, to back up his belief.

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. angst/romantic comedy.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, neglectful parents, mentions of depression, banter, cussing, ex girlfriends, flashbacks, jungkook low key being super mean and discarding people’s feelings, jungkook hard-key depressed, implications of sex.

a/n: hai… this is so long overdue— exams month is coming and I had the biggest writers block fr but here’s my beloved babies. Song of the chapter— “love is embarrassing” by Olivia Rodrigo.

prev chapter! series masterlist!

Love.

Love is an intricate subject in its own right. Scientists elucidate it through the interplay of three cerebral chemicals: noradrenaline, dopamine, and phenylethylamine.

That's how Jungkook perceived love. He didn't subscribe to the notion of butterflies in the stomach or the fluttering heartbeat as justifications for love. To him, love was a scientific phenomenon, a complex emotion akin to sadness or jealousy-if he could evade such feelings, he would spare no effort.

But why did his stomach churn as if his organs were performing tiny somersaults whenever he gazed at you a tad too long? You were engrossed in the menu, pondering whether to get a burger or a slice of pizza.

Seated beautifully in your loose red Formula One shirt, Jungkook couldn't fathom how you managed to make that oversized shirt look so good.

Jungkook's eyes dropped to the ribbon in your hair, wondering why someone who was a full-on adult looked pretty, adorable even-with a red ribbon tied into a beautiful bow contrasting your skin and eyes. Your long eyelashes entranced him. He felt his stomach do something, a turn? Maybe his stomach was upset-he thought to himself.

Jungkook couldn't believe he found himself willingly sharing a table with you at the same dinner two years ago, he almost killed you at. He had moved to Emberhill U two years ago, ever since he moved out from his mom's house. Jungkook's life had gone to hell, which is exactly what his mind would tell him ever since his mom got a boyfriend. To make matters worse, he now had step-siblings.

He hated every bit of it. He wasn't jealous whatsoever.

It was the fact that his mom seemed to forget he even existed in the first place. Jungkook was hurt. He tried not to dwell or cry about it since he was a big boy-that's what he told himself now, pushing twenty-two, but still, part of his already broken heart shattered more.

How could your mom forget about her child? How could she not care about her only flesh and blood? He never told her that ever. Talking about his feelings with his mom was like talking to a brick wall that nothing could pass through. Plus, Jungkook wasn't good at communicating or talking about his feelings anyway. He found it embarrassing to lay yourself out there for someone to be able to discard you at any given moment.

Jungkook's dad wasn't any different as wellbeing too busy with work to even call him to ask his son if he was okay or how school is going. But the calls or text messages never came. Jungkook was used to it. It was his everyday. It was more shocking when he did call, but he wouldn't know what that would feel like since he never called ever since the divorce. Jungkook knew the divorce wasn't his fault whatsoever. His therapist—that his high school counselor made him go to—basically talked his ear off about how anything that happened wasn't his fault, but still, it felt like it was.

Ever since everything went down, his parents seemed to forget they had a child, who still needed them.

One advantage of his situation was the freedom to do as he pleased without his parents' interference. However, the downside was their lack of concern for his activities or just him in general. Jungkook was certain: if his parents didn't love him, who else in the world would? So, he didn't believe in love. When the two people meant to demonstrate unconditional love failed to do so, he doubted anyone else would. He would like to say that it didn't affect him and it's been years since everything, but deep down it still did.

Jungkook experiences a pang of guilt every time he looks at you. Perhaps it's the way he behaved when he first met you, the influence of the romantic comedy in your hands causing him to lash out at you.

Something about your ribbons makes him feel that you’re too innocent and naive for this world—part of him wants to shield you from its harsh realities, while another part wants to disillusion you about the cruelty of the world and the disparity between love in fairy tales and reality.

"Are you done daydreaming?" You say, interrupting his thoughts. Jungkook shakes his head, attempting to banish his thoughts before raising an eyebrow at your curious doe eyes. "I wasn't daydreaming," he states proudly, prompting a scoff from you, a grin tugging at Jungkook's lips.

"It was either daydreaming or checking me out since you were staring at me for a hot minute, but I decided otherwise since you have a girlfriend," you quip nonchalantly before calling the waiter to take your order.

"First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend, and second of all, what if I was checking you out?" Jungkook challenges. He didn’t know why he enjoyed getting on your nerves—any other person he would probably flip off and never give them the time of day, but instead, here he was with you doing the complete opposite.

"What happened to the girl from the dinner?" You question, your eyes finally meeting his brown ones. A glint of something passes over his eyes before disappearing as quickly as you saw it—so you thought maybe you had imagined it.

"Who?" Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side as he leans forward, his elbows propped on the table. "the one you mentioned to me two years ago? The one you discussed intimately," you mimic his voice. Jungkook's smile widens, amused by your jest.

"If you want to know so badly, we broke up—well, she broke up with me," Jungkook clicks his tongue, observing your expressions closely. He notices the creases of your forehead whenever you are thinking or the way you bite your lower lip to contain a smile that’s threatening to come out, each time Jungkook says something dumb.

"Oh, let me guess, she wanted love letters and sweet words whispered into her ear," you mock him, knowing he said that he didn’t need to do any of that to keep a girl. "You’re annoying, Ribbons," Jungkook shakes his head with a low soft chuckle.

You watch him pick up the menu and start scanning the items as you observe him. You notice how his jaw clenches momentarily before relaxing, his tongue poking on the inside of his cheek, making you wonder if you angered him—and if you did, maybe you should do it more often since he looked hot—

Record scratch.

Your mind was playing games with you the more you watched the raven-haired boy. The more you realized he was the epitome of the boy you imagined whenever you were reading a book, the dimples on his cheeks, the scar right above his cheekbone, and the mole underneath his bottom lip had you wanting to ask him for his whole life story.

He also looks like those cute love song playlists that had all your favorite songs in them, but you knew from the way he acts around you, it was definitely a hard no and maybe you were delusional after all. So you try hard to shove those ideas into the back of your brain as far as you could.

"I knew that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend," you shrug, prompting a gasp from him as he jokingly places a hand on his heart, as if you had just dealt him a mortal blow.

"Wow, YN doesn’t think I’m boyfriend material?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, shaking his head.

"You’re literally everything that's not boyfriend material," you throw your head back with a laugh, observing his widened eyes with amusement evident on his face. "Ouch," Jungkook scoffs dramatically.

"What makes you say I’m not boyfriend material?" he says, scanning the room for a waiter but finding none, before redirecting his attention to you.

"You don’t believe in love, that's one way to start," you point out, eliciting a hum of agreement from him. "What's that got to do with being a good boyfriend? I assure you that a good boyfriend isn’t necessarily head over heels in love," Jungkook says, as if imparting a valuable lesson, while your facial expression betrays you.

"The fuck? You literally hate everything related to love. Being a good boyfriend means doing cliche shit you hate doing so much, how could you possibly be boyfriend material?" you assert proudly, prompting an eye-roll from him.

"All that stuff is just superficial shit that everyone collectively agreed on. It’s just embarrassing how people put themselves go through all that just to make someone lik—“

"Love," you interject, earning yourself a glare from across the table.

"Like I was saying, I stand by the fact all those stupid romantic gestures are pointless. Society basically romanticized love and set up unrealistic expectations— everything just leads to heartbreak and disappointment," Jungkook continues, you watch how the hard expression on his face wavers to something more… sad, like he was talking from experience.

"Have you ever experienced love?" you inquire, not sure why since you guys weren’t even friends in the first place—the only reason you found yourself sitting with him willingly was because of psychology class.

"What?" Jungkook is caught off guard by the sudden question.

"Have you ever been in love?" you reiterate, observing his expression harden once more. "No, never, and I don’t plan to," Jungkook shrugs, going back to his usual cocky self in a blink of an eye, prompting yet another eye-roll from you, marking thirty-eighth.

You didn’t get the chance to reply since a waiter came to your table, apologizing for taking so long to get to us before taking our orders.

You and Jungkook decided on sharing a pizza, and you obviously ordered a coke, which got Jungkook joking about how he isn’t trying to make you choke again, which had the waiter shifting uncomfortably beside you both while Jungkook had an eating-shit grin on his face.

“That’s not what he meant!” You chuckled nervously, your face reddening, matching your shirt from how embarrassed you are.

“No, it’s okay, you don't have to explain,” the waiter said before excusing himself.

The moment the waiter was out of your line of vision, you turned your head to the boy who’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that?” You glared, your eyebrows scrunching. “What, you both just have a dirty mind,” Jungkook shrugged, the grin on his face making you shift in your chair.

Jungkook's aura was unlike anything you’d ever stumbled upon, and you hated it. It made you want to know more about him than you should, the way he carried himself and talked had you questioning why? He wasn’t so different from other boys you had met, besides the fact that he spoke his mind as if no one was around, not caring if he hurt your feelings or offended you. It was refreshing in some way, but it still made you want to pull your hair out.

“Alright… let’s change topics, Mr. Anti-Romantic,” you say, watching his smile widen.

“What?” You stared at him, trying to think what could possibly make him smile that much. You were sure your face would hurt if you possibly smiled that much.

“Nothing, I just find it extremely hot when you call me that, it turns me on,” Jungkook said, leaning forward.

Okay, that’s not exactly what you were imagining him saying. Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling your heartbeat rise. The smile not leaving his face had you feeling hot, as if the room temperature suddenly increased.

“Uh… so, project,” you blinked rapidly.

“Yeah, project,” Jungkook agreed, smile still on his face as he saw your cheeks flush with a reddish color.

“So, any ideas about what our project can be about?” You said, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist and using it to make a ponytail, taking the ribbons out before tying your hair.

Two small strands fell from your face, tempting Jungkook's fingers to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He wanted to slap himself back to reality since he never in his life thought those thoughts, not even with Haneul, whom he dated for five months, setting a record. He still remembered the reason she gave him for breaking up. It was laughable.

“Jungkook, you don’t even look at me with love, and I know you said when we first met that it was only attraction, but I thought you would change over time the more we hung out,” Haneul whimpered, tears gathering around her eyes as Jungkook just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Because yes, he did tell her it was all attraction, and it’s still only attraction to this day for him.

“You don’t hold my hand or give me kisses, you don’t even give me flowers,” Haneul cried, her voice cracking with each word she said.

“I told you, I don’t do that stuff,” Jungkook said. He felt bad for her since he knew she deserved better, but he didn’t feel bad about not doing those things for her since he told her he wouldn’t and never would do them. And she agreed, so why was she crying about it now when she agreed to it five months ago?

“I know you did, but I thought you just… fuck, you haven’t even introduced me to your family,” a crack is heard from Jungkook's heart, but not for the girl in front of him crying her heart out, but for himself, because yeah, he had no family he could take a girl home to, since he had no home at all. He had a house, but it was as empty as he was.

“Haneul, I told you—“

“Yeah, that you will never do that! I get it, okay? I get it, but fuck, how can you not care? Do you not feel anything when it comes to me?” The girl wept more, which had Jungkook sighing.

“I like you, Haneul,” Jungkook replied. “I love you, Jungkook, can’t you tell…” she whispered, a choked sob leaving her lips as she looked up at the man who’s just standing in front of her like nothing.

“I’m sorry,” that's all Jungkook said… because what else could he say? It was either that or that he didn’t love her, but to not take it personally since he didn’t love anything?

So instead, he said the only thing he could muster without his voice cracking.

“Love,” Jungkook finally says, his statement catching you off guard, widening your eyes in surprise.

“Love? I thought you hated love,” you raise an eyebrow, perplexed by his sudden declaration.

“I do, but love is psychological. We can discuss how we, as humans, have the ability to choose whether we fall in love or not,” Jungkook articulates.

“That’s not how love works, Jungkook,” you retort, to which he responds with a disapproving nod. “It does, though,” Jungkook rebuts.

“It doesn’t. Love is not something we can choose and pick, it just happens,” you try to explain.

“You believe love just happens, but I disagree, respectfully,” Jungkook adds, causing you to tilt your head curiously, intrigued by his perspective. “I’ve held on for too long without being in love since I said I wouldn’t fall in love,” he concludes.

“That’s because you haven’t met anyone you actually want to try with… maybe you just haven’t met your soulmate,” you suggest, annoyance evident on Jungkook’s face the moment you mention the concept of soulmates.

“Soulmates don’t exist, ribbons,” Jungkook snickers.

“I beg to differ,” you cross your arms, adamant in your belief. “I don’t know what fantasy lovey-dovey world you live in, but soulmates are just made up,” Jungkook shrugs casually.

“Maybe you are right about the fact that you get to choose who you fall in love with since I know for a fact I would never fall in love with you,” you spitefully state.

Jungkook nods, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth that catches him off guard. Perhaps it was the fact that someone had just openly admitted they wouldn’t want to love him—reminding him of the kid he once was, desperately begging his parents to love him. But wasn’t this what he was trying to prove in the first place, that love was a choice? Then why did it hurt to hear you say those words out loud?

“Atta girl, finally got it huh,” Jungkook smirks, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. “Alright then, if we did do that for our project, let’s say we argued that love is a choice and it doesn’t happen. How do we prove that?” you question.

Silence fills the table as you both brainstorm ideas, trying to back up this argument.

“I got it,” you say, as if a light bulb just appeared on top of your head. Jungkook nods, encouraging you to continue.

“What if we spend a month with you doing absolutely everything to make me fall in love with you? And I mean do all that cliché, romantic shit I love that you hate so much. Since I know for a fact that I choose not to fall in love with you, we can discuss how, even if a person does everything right, you still get to choose who you love,” you explain carefully, ensuring he understands your proposal.

“It’s a good idea for the project; we could use ourselves to illustrate how we pick and choose who we love, like you said,” you try to convince him, giving him the benefit of the doubt after he convinced you of his beliefs. You knew you would never fall for him, even if he did everything you ever read in books and saw in movies.

“We can call it the Love Wager,” you finish, scanning his face as he contemplates the idea.

Jungkook’s mind races, unsure if he likes the idea or absolutely hates it. On one hand, it could earn him a good grade, given the strong rationale behind it, using yourselves as an experiment to support your argument. But on the other hand, the thought of spending a month doing everything he had vocally despised for the past five years gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Alright then, the Love Wager operation starts,” Jungkook agrees instead, while you clap happily. “Oh my god yay, this might give me an A plus,” you celebrate, giggling as Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story; I just hate psychology,” you say, to which he nods in response.

“Well, we have a month together, so start explaining why you hate it so much,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, and before you could reply, the waiter hurriedly returns to your table, apologizing for the wait, mentioning the kitchen’s struggle with the influx of orders. But you keep your eyes on the boy in front of you, who looks at the waiter, reassuring him it’s okay.

The smell of fresh, hot pizza fills your nostrils as you finally snap out of your trance, looking down at the pizza the waiter is sliding onto the table, cautioning you both that it is extremely hot. The waiter continues to place all the food you ordered on the table before leaving with a bow.

“I’m starving, oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite, ignoring the steam.

“How is that not burning your tongue, oh my…” you begin to say, but you’re interrupted as you take a bite of your own slice, immediately regretting it as you burn your tongue. “Ah, ah, ha,” you drop the pizza onto your plate, sticking your tongue out and fanning your mouth with your hand. A small laugh escapes from Jungkook as you shoot him a snarky glare.

“He literally just told you it was hot, ribbons,” Jungkook says, grabbing a napkin from the container and reaching over to wipe some sauce off your lips and face. The fanning from your hand halts as you stare at his focused face, feeling yourself heat up again, but this time it’s not your mouth—it’s your cheeks.

“Why did you just do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, as he sits back down properly. “I’m starting my boyfriend material journey, you know, since the project?” Jungkook says casually, taking another bite of pizza, watching you in surprise as you shockingly observe him not being fazed by the burning food in his mouth, chewing happily.

“Oh… we’re starting right now?” you gesture to the table between you both, indicating ‘right now’. “Yeah, we only have one month, let’s make it worth it,” he says, diving back into his food.

God, this month was definitely going to be a roller coaster.

💌taglist— @brune77e @cherryfragrancx @inlovewithharutoo @jcnggukie @vkjmjjk @seokjinspinkslipper @jayjahni @mxrecg @suciedad-divina @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aiiselle90210 @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @chxrrybangtan @seokout @junecat18 @joonsanswer @ahgasegotarmy116recs @jkmylove97 @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @whoa-jo @ziyaexe @kooloveys @sneezedonthebeat @parkinglot-nights @btsffreader92 @jjeonjjk7 (lmk if you wanna get taken off)

[lavendermin]

collar of thorns | blade

blade x reader, fem reader, bodyguard au

wc | 5.1k

genre | hurt and (a tiny bit of) comfort, nsfw, minors do not interact

warnings | implied toxic family dynamics, unhealthy dependency, brief previous torture mention, panic attacks, trauma, blood and brief violence, nudity, blade uses a shower head to get you off (if there’s a term for this lmk I’m drawing a blank rn)

note | mwah thank you to the bestest @nashusglasses for beta reading this 💗 this was supposed to be at most 2k but well… here we are ^^; love blade’s quiet but gentle girldad vibe with the stellaron hunters so this is a loose interpretation of that in a bodyguard au. very self indulgent with a sprinkle of comfort and mostly exploring their dynamics of an evolving relationship

His calculated actions are a conversation—one you have learned to follow, though not without a learning curve. Even in silence there’s more he tells you with a glance alone than words ever could.

It’s experience that Blade has accumulated as your bodyguard for quite a few years. No stranger to your mannerisms and higher quality of life coming from a family with powerful connections and flaunted status.

He knows you well, in his opinion. Head held high but a frail little thing weak in the knees from utter fear and paranoia. Pitiful, he thinks. Like a field mouse braving the jaws of a beast.

Despite being the black sheep of a renowned family, you’re no less a target as a vessel of valuable knowledge— information that some would go to great lengths to gain. No cost is too great, risk and reward leading many astray. Ultimately, it pulls you closer to unraveling. Time and time again.

—

There is protest— displeasure from attendants that arrive on behalf of the main family estate. You aren’t meant to be seen like this— bedridden and flawed and vulnerable.

The instruction was to wait. Wait until you have healed and could properly make yourself presentable. To save your family face, above all else.

But it’s your house, your rules.

The attendant continues to talk your ear off about why this is egregious and why the meeting should be postponed until months later when you’ve healed. It’s what the family ordered.

They might as well have ordered you dead, too. In your current state you’re no different than a deer in an open meadow, a thousand triggers waiting to be pulled.

“No.” Your gaze is blank as you side-eye the attendant by your bedside. “I want him to see— see exactly what my father signed him up for. If he is to be my guard, then he has to be able to handle all aspects of my life. What good is he to me if the unsightly is just that and nothing more?”

The attendant opens their mouth to oppose, but is interrupted by a knock on your room’s door as another attendant exchanges a hushed message. Upon their departure a tall figure is allowed inside— dark, silent.

Heavy is the atmosphere as he stands before you with an air that you can’t quite read. Blade, his name that was briefly provided by your father’s informant days prior.

“The family extends its gratitude for your gracious courtesy to meet with me on such short notice. Things haven’t been going as smoothly as my father would like. And that man does not trust me whatsoever to keep my mouth shut if the worst should happen.” You mutter something bitterly that Blade chooses not to dwell on. Sleepless paranoia has taken quite the toll on you. The dark circles under your eyes are quite unbecoming, though he doesn’t comment on it.

It’s none of his business— not until you tell him it is. Your word now commands him from the second he stepped into the room.

Blade sits across from you in a leather chair, unreadable with a rather guarded posture. His employer’s daughter— his task— is both what he expects and doesn’t expect.

There is a fear that keeps you alive and a defeat that splits your soul. A cacophony of unrest, a cocktail for an isolated soul.

���As you can see, he’s sorely mistaken,” you snort, dry and humorless. The days worth of agony are neatly dressed in gauze and fresh bandages, well on their way to become a blur of many such incidents to come. A recent incident— torture for information, he can only assume. “Regardless, my life is in your hands now.”

Blade nods, a simple acknowledgement. How easily he accepts to be by your side until your final breath.

“More than your duty,” you continue, “you are my trusted companion. My only companion.”

___

There’s little intel Blade could gather on attempts at your life, but that matters less to him from the second he’s hired. Those attempts would not prove successful, at whatever cost. They would only diminish further the longer he was your guard.

Duty-bound and distanced, he does not bother asking further about your past, and neither do you. You know he wouldn’t answer, and you’ve tried.

As a victim of circumstance, you are hard to blame.

Casual conversation is one-sided—a condition you’ve grown accustomed to. The microscopic changes of expression he allows are often response enough for you to carry conversation. You’ve long since stopped thinking too hard about it. No use breaking your heart over minor inconveniences like a petulant, rich brat.

In fact, not once have you heard him speak in your presence. Doesn’t need to, you think.

It’s easier to think that perhaps he holds resentment or dislikes his duty of protecting you. The lack of verbal conversation is often key to that. But Blade is very good at what he does—skilled in the art of reading people with a glance. His gentle gestures despite a blank, forlorn expression speak to the heart. Your heart.

It’s easy— liking him.

“There’s a restaurant that was highly recommended to me. Word of mouth from one of the Iris Family members during last month’s meeting,” you start casually. Sleep is just freshly rubbed from your eyes that morning.

Blade doesn’t respond, as expected, his hands steadily occupied with brushing your hair. Always gentle. More patient than you who yanks at any knots that form. You prefer it when he does it, liking the feeling of little jolts of electricity down your spine at the intimate action. It calms your nerves, he’s noted.

So, he indulges you.

There’s hesitance in your fidgeting hands as you peek at him through the vanity mirror from under your lashes. It easily betrays the stern facade you try to enact. You try your luck anyway. “It looked promising and would be a nice change of pace. I would like to try it out.”

Silence. His hand stills and his gaze is rather cold as he meets your eye. The air in the room shifts, a thick tension that’s palpable. You don’t even flinch.

“Bad idea, I take it. Well, I have an errand in the area regardless— the Oak Family contacted us not long ago and I’m being issued as the initial contact for a new business discussion. It would be an ideal use of our time if we can still pick up some food to bring back afterward.”

His hands resume their brushing, burning-red gaze now a dulled crimson as he focuses on not pulling your hair. A better idea, you take it, as he seems to relent to your veiled suggestion with a quiet sigh. The only clear sign you’ve learned means you won him over.

Blade knows well that you look for little ways to get some wiggle room of normalcy. You’ve never gotten used to this caged-bird life, bound to fear what lies beyond the golden enclosure of silk and honey. Perhaps he pities your cries, like birdsong that longs for a life that doesn’t suffocate you— a life that doesn’t hinge on every day and every interaction being a gamble.

If there is even a fraction of an illusion of that for you, he will turn a blind eye and let you lie to yourself. A moment is enough to soothe your aching heart.

Later in the day you depart for the city. A distraught feeling sits in the pit of your belly. An omen brought by a spike in anxiety that you force out of mind as Blade opens the passenger door for you.

It’s a silent ride across several towns to the location indicated. There’s doubt that gnaws at the back of your mind. Something didn’t seem right with the person that contacted you with the location details for this conference between families. You’ve become much too aware that you’re viewed as an expendable pawn of the family.

But, you’re sure Robin will be there. And a familiar face is just what you need for this to be less of a drag.

Blade seems to sense your hesitance. Wordlessly, he turns on the radio. You worry too much, he seems to criticize with the action. It helps all the same.

But… your spirits seem lighter, more optimistic. A moment of normalcy as you tune out and look out the window at passing city lights and a sun slowly tucking away behind never ending buildings. You’re a person, then.

Even if only briefly.

____

They say a common phenomenon occurs that allows you to register one small, redundant detail when in a state of sudden shock. And you remember it then, clear as day.

7:59 PM.

The time on your cracked phone screen just inches away from you.

The smell of iron and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. None of it registered quick enough before Blade yanked you harshly out of the way.

And yelling. Muffled and harsh.

Your body is cold with fear, frozen stiff in place. It’s a feeling you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You struggle to get back onto your feet, cowering back toward the alley wall. It gets harder to breathe as panic sets in when your eyes spot Blade clutching his side.

The situation deteriorates further, every passing second a blur of struggle and dark figures. It feels like every emotion is going to burst out of you in a scream. It’s an out-of-body experience, as if you’re watching your own body act on its own trying to put itself between Blade and the attackers.

“Don’t,” he commands—harsher still with urgency. “Stop.”

You freeze at the foreign sound of his voice. There’s no time to process it as crimson seeps through the fresh wound on his side.

You keep hearing his muffled voice tell you to run, run away. Through the pounding in your ears of adrenaline and fear you realize that’s your voice. Hoarse and frantically yelling, pleading for him to run away— you’re hurt, don’t fight anymore.

The rest is a blur as Blade drags you out of the alley, through crowds of nightlife and shoves you into the car. There’s no way of knowing if the pursuit was hot on your tails. It’s a risk Blade could not afford in his current state.

Your mind is numb with fear during the entire process. Every jolt from the roads he speeds through shoots pain through his body— a bloody manifestation of his inadequacy. He hisses and clutches his side, forced to drive with one hand. The sound tears you from your daze for a moment but forces you to experience the present.

There’s red on your hands, your clothes. The smell of iron is putrid as you desperately try to control your breathing. Bile is at your throat and you choke back a sob, like a pitiful kicked dog. You can’t afford to freak out right now and make things worse.

It’s disjointed how your body reacts compared to your mind. You’ve been through worse. You know that. This comfortable life laying low with your bodyguard has spoiled you. He has spoiled you. Your heart is merely a soft pearl now, layers of disjointed affections received and perceived through his tenderness. The base instinct overwrites everything else— all logic, all experience.

This is not normal, it reasons. This shouldn’t be normal.

You want desperately to silence the mind.

The car comes to a slow stop after miles of non-stop driving, and you’re painfully aware of the trembling in your hands. Though you try to hide them by folding them onto your lap, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Blade’s hand, calloused and marred with drying red, is steady as it closes over your fist. It commands your attention and the lump at your throat threatens to rip a sob from you.

It’s alright now, his piercing red eyes tell you. There’s a tenderness that comes through while his thumb rubs your knuckles to ease your anxiety. He lets his head fall back onto the headrest, a bitter chuckle filling the rigid silence.

Your voice trembles, breathy as it breaks with the urge to cry. “They could have killed you.”

Blade exhales through his nose, eyes still closed as he processes your distress.

“I’m expendable. You must live.” His tone is even, detached. It lacks the usual twinge of warmth and care. It’s as if he’s reading something scripted instead— attempting to avoid overstepping.

“You’re being dishonest with me. That’s not what you want to say. I–”

Your mouth presses into a thin line, his hand squeezing yours.

“I know my father sent them.” There isn’t even hurt in your voice, but a steady bitterness begins to burn at the hearth of your soul. It was high time they deemed you more of a liability than an actual member of the family. You shake your head, and with a deep breath you steady your nerves as best as you can. “That matters less right now. Let's get you cleaned up.”

Staying the night at a hotel much too far from home is less than ideal, but you’re aware Blade won’t risk walking right into another ambush that may be waiting at your doorstep. Best not to compromise the situation further.

Despite the tremble of your lip, your hands are steady and efficient as they work to help clean his wounds. You jolt as your phone vibrates with an incoming call, apologizing as you excuse yourself to the balcony. Blade quietly finishes dressing the cleaned wound on his side. He listens intently as you speak with an Oak Family member on the phone, quickly and quietly.

“No, no. We are safe now. Please keep alert. My contact sent you all available surveillance footage of the area shortly after we departed. We can discuss this further once I look into it. On behalf of,” you pause, a strain on your voice before you compose yourself, “on behalf of the family I apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you, Robin.”

Blade watches you intently from the side. There’s a facade of calm you’re trying desperately to keep up. Perhaps it’s the ‘fight or flight’ that’s still keeping you whole right now. For now, he keeps a close watch over you, every microexpression, every fidget.

There’s hesitance as his left palm rests on the bed. It doesn’t escape your detection as you close the sliding door.

“Give me your hand.” A beat and he relents, red gaze as intense as ever as he watches you kneel before him in silence. “You’re hurt here, too.”

He grunts as if inconvenienced, but lets you do as you please. Indulges you— always does.

With a patient crimson gaze, he observes you. Your heart has never felt so vulnerable than right now.

“It’s not perfect, and I’m no doctor, but…” You pause to look over your work.

Despite trembling hands and less-than-elegant bandaging, you gently bring his knuckles to your lips and press a kiss to each one. A childish gesture he didn’t see you as the type to do. That surely in your naive heart you believe a kiss will make it better— despite the blood and bruises.

And Blade— doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t stop you.

How selfishly he lets your heart devour him.

He gives a silent thanks and moves to sit away from you, making home on the couch with a wince as he adjusts to lay down. The lights are off now, save for your bedside lamp.

Even in the warmth of the lamplight, the feeling of being cold and isolated persists. Alone at the edge of the bed. You want to be selfish and order him to sleep on a proper bed— near you for your peace of mind.

Sleep, he tells you wordlessly with a glance. It’s been a long day.

You worry your lip all the same, seated at the edge of your bedside. Unmoving, tense— your mind reels, replaying the same thing over and over.

7:59 PM.

When the weapon just grazed over his heart and instead hit his side. When the smell of iron, cursed with beautiful crimson, nauseated you.

In the dark, your eyes adjust and watch as Blade’s breathing slows with sleep. It’s not normal— his breathing. The wrappings will only do so much while the pain persists. But by morning, the scar will be there, as if it had always been there. You don’t dare ask the details of why.

He’s spoiled you, surely. A comfortable life in his hands has made you soft. And you know this to be true, otherwise this attempt at your life would be nothing but another occurrence you hardly bat an eye to.

The gentleness he grants you unravels you faster.

No matter how close Blade is, you’re always alone. Even so, you choose to stay within his shadow. It’s warm— always warm.

And you crave him. Crave him in ways you should not entertain.

You don’t sleep much that night. The attempts on your life are few in recent years, but even more rare is successful bloodshed. The more dire incidents leave your nerves fried, a heavy pounding in your chest as adrenaline leaves your body tense and sleepless. Even with Blade’s watchful gaze keeping you safe, knowing he’s been injured by your carelessness only leaves you waking with a strangled gasp from guilt-ridden nightmares every hour.

The room is foreign as you try to adjust your sight to the dark bathed in a sliver of moonlight from a crack in the hotel room’s curtains.

This bed is not yours, this room is not yours. It’s not home, and this isn’t normal. The target is hot on your back— always under someone’s watchful eye. Never able to take a full breath without gasping and clawing at the anxiety closing its hands around your throat.

Your throat feels tight the more you think. In the dark, faces seem to morph into the details on the ceiling— mocking and shifting. All you can do is think in circles, worry your lips raw.

When you look over, you can just barely make out Blade’s dark figure laid on the sofa across from you. The bandages wrapped on his torso are salt in the wound as the guilt claws at your throat once more. Tears sting your eyes as the stress of it all finally reaches a breaking point.

The clock reads midnight as you tiptoe to the bathroom.

The bathwater is just short of scalding when you step in. The feeling doesn’t even phase you, a welcome sensation as the steam surrounds you. Its temperature is a welcoming hug melting your stresses away little by little as you work your fingers into your tense shoulders. A sniffle here and there, shaky breaths accompanied by the sweet melodies of tears breaking the water’s surface.

For a while, you sit idly, watching water from the leaky faucet drip. With each drop, the echoing sound clears your mind and centers you.

Deep breath, hold it. Exhale. Repeat.

The door to the bathroom clicks open, heavy footsteps trailing in.

“I already knew you were awake, but I wish you would rest,” you mutter into your knees as you shrink into yourself.

He sits at the edge of the tub. Formality is left at the door, for your sake. You have nothing to hide from him, anyway. The flesh is nothing to hide, and you’re more ashamed to let his eyes gaze upon the want in your soul. Ugly and wretched.

“You care for me,” is all Blade says in the quiet echo of the bathroom. “Don’t.”

The silence that follows seeps into the water that is no longer warm. Your body sinks lower into the tub until your nose is just above the water. Heat sears the tips of your ears.

The pounding of your heart is deafening, louder still as his presence engulfs your senses.

You feel foolish and naive and your bones are tired of being within your flesh. Bound to carry a fool like you through every mistake.

The sound of water draining doesn’t faze you. He’s decided this is less healing than you wallowing in self-pity. It won’t do you any good. Believing him is easier when you’d rather not think.

You sit up and keep your gaze glued to the surface of the water. Not unable to meet his gaze— refusing to— as his words weigh heavy on your heart.

You would rather he squeeze your heart— drink it dry of the lifeblood that keeps it pumping. Maybe this isn’t love. Or isn’t what you need.

But you will yourself to not care. Have to.

Blade taps your shoulder, urging you to stand before you catch a cold the longer you stay in the lukewarm water. He sighs quietly when you shake your head petulantly.

You finally speak— a quiet, frail thing as your voice trembles ever so slightly. “You’re wrong. It’s more.”

The water sloshes and spills over the sides as you turn your body around. Your eyes meet full, crimson moons, and your heart remains strangely steady. Uncertainty claws at your nerves until they fray like ribbons.

The draining water weighs in the forefront of your mind like an hourglass waiting for your next move. And with each second his eyes crumble your resolve, seeing through you— peering into the soul of a frail little thing like you. He waits patiently for your next gamble.

You lean up, lips pressing against his. A forlorn warmth.

Not pushed away, not stopped. Blade indulges you. Always does.

A wordless answer.

“You don’t like it, but I love you,” you mutter against his lips when you pull away. “That won’t change easily.”

“I never said I don’t like it.”

You can’t meet his eyes when your fingers silently trace the bandage wrappings around his bare torso.

“It eats me alive to see you get hurt. I know it’s your job, but… I can still be a fool in love. Can’t I?”

When you chase his lips again, your body shivers. It’s difficult to tell if that comes as a result from the harsh, cold porcelain of the empty tub or his teeth sinking into your lip.

The water is running again when Blade pushes you away, your eyes unfocused and glassy. He makes your heart ache. You have yet to decide if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

“Is it pity?” you ask quietly. “The reason you kissed back?” There’s distress and hurt in your voice as Blade falls into routine, moving you about like a doll to finish what you inevitably will not.

No response. For once, you can’t read him.

Blade works silently as he runs hot water over your body with that delicate gentleness that has your heart yearning and longing for him to be forced into what you need. You swallow the greed— the selfishness— and tear out the vitals of that ugly beast before you go mad if he leaves.

Your back is to him as he uses the shower head to get the last remaining suds out of your hair. It pulls your focus for a moment, the feeling pleasant and distracting. Methods he already knows to soothe your tumultuous mind.

The water runs and he turns you around. The bandages around his torso are damp by now, your lingering gaze focusing on them as he finishes rinsing you in silence. The myriad of scars adorning his arms and torso bring a heavy feeling to your chest. You will the vile feeling away and focus on his fingers gently lathering up your hair. Keeping you sat makes the task more difficult— you know this. But the attention makes your heart lighter all the same.

Selfish. The thought brands itself on your back like a hot iron.

The water runs and runs along your thigh with a light pressure as he abandons the shower head and tilts your face up to finally look at him. His gaze is intense— worried in the way he searches your crestfallen expression. You’re sure you look pathetic like this, disappointment on your face.

But he kisses you.

Blade leans down and kisses you. Of his own volition, now, and it's soft and warm. So warm it singes the edges of the isolation that consumes you. And for a moment, salvation is what you feel.

“You’re stubborn,” he says, his breath warm as it fans your face. “I enjoy it. That’s my answer.”

You can’t help the pout on your lips. It pulls a hum of amusement from him.

“Enjoying the demise of my heart. You’re cruel.”

Your words have no bite. A ghost of a smile graces his lips and it brings a rush of emotion to your already starving heart.

Because you don’t know it, but he craves you. Fondly but desperately.

Where your family has thrown you to the side, he will hold you close. A greed of his own he has to battle— keep focused so it won’t consume him. So he won’t devour you whole.

A shiver runs through your body as he coaxes you back into the tub, and you think for a moment he’s back to keeping you at an arm’s length again. The cold of the porcelain is harsh on your back. You retain some shame, at least, and you go to cover your chest. It’s the feeling of being a lamb before the slaughter, pristine and loved.

“Sit still,” Blade commands, voice smooth and an octave lower as his arm pushes one of your legs apart to prop on the edge of the tub.

It's a welcome initiative that makes your face warm with a sudden meekness. You’re exposed and surely getting slick by the second with arousal dripping down your inner thigh. Spread and completely bare.

Your chest rises and falls at a quickening pace and you whimper in anticipation. Blade watches you almost curiously, as if he’s never heard these pathetic little sounds from your lips. There’s little that hasn’t been shared between you two with his intimate work as your bodyguard. His presence has been by your side nearly twenty four hours a day every day for the past few years. Still, this is a new low he is taking on with you.

Indulging you. Like he always does.

This is an inevitable shift in your relationship— one that has long since strayed from a purely professional stance. It never suited you both, at least that’s what you like to think.

His gaze like blood is trained onto your expression— every shift, every change, every wince. He wants to see them all, sear them into his memory like tomorrow isn’t promised.

Your body jolts and an obscene moan you can't manage to hold back bubbles up your throat as he holds the shower head just over your slick cunt. The water runs with a constant pressure that feels odd and overwhelmingly good. But your moans are much too loud, much too desperate. With a click, the flow changes and he rips a sharp gasp out of you as he aims the water at your throbbing clit.

Your body is thrashing, squirming against the porcelain but you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. But this feeling is not him, and you want to be selfish and have him take all that remains. To have him take and take and fill and put you back together after he breaks you into irreplaceable pieces.

The squeeze of his hand on the tender flesh of your plush thigh is enough to have you panting and writhing. The feeling is isolated, the mere touch hot on your skin— scalding, even. His large hand sinks easily into the soft skin there, and you wish his touch alone would leave marks in his wake. To remind you that he’s still here, and you’ll both be alright.

The coiling feeling builds and builds, your walls clenching around nothing as your clit is assaulted by the constant stream of pressure. A whimper of frustration escapes your lips as your hips try to buck up to chase the feeling— begging for relief. He doesn’t spare you from cruelty, not when your expressions are a wonder to behold. You can’t even scream as an orgasm rips through you so suddenly, mouth agape as you twist and arch under his watchful gaze.

An expression twisted and contorted by bliss— Blade drinks up all your sounds and the sight of you undone. You squirm against his hold on your thigh as the feeling starts to toe into overstimulation. It’s too much of a good thing and you don’t know whether to beg him to stop or keep chasing the feeling of the coil tightly winding again.

The tears that adorn your lashes blur your peripheral, but you’re sure you see a wolfish grin on Blade’s expression.

Just short of coming undone again, he denies you a second completion. The stream of water slowly drips to a stop and you lay there catching your breath. Frustration sits in the pit of your belly as exhaustion finally settles on your limbs, eyelids heavy. For a moment you feel his lips on your temple— a brief, chaste gesture.

It’s silent as you get ready to sleep once more. By now it’s almost two in the morning, your tired body protesting the hour. But the air is no longer suffocating, and a lightness remains in your heart once more. The maw of the beast still looms over you but for now, the beating of two hearts quells your worries until morning.

His steps halt as you pull him along toward the bed.

“Sleep here,” you beg quietly. “It’ll be better for your wounds.”

Blade closes his eyes, forcing himself to disregard the want in your eyes. When you tug gently again he gives in, allowing you to do as you please. Just like always.

He cannot pleasure you how he wants, not tonight. You wouldn’t allow it with his wounds. All the same he relents when you urge him to sleep in a proper bed— to lay with you.

In the stillness of the dark, his hand searches for yours. You wonder for a moment if his fear of losing you rivals your own. For the sake of your heart, you’ll have to assume that much.

He fits easily into the crook of your neck and allows his lips to press tenderly where your shoulder meets your neck. The flesh dissolves under his tongue. You are left bare, a soul so desperately longing to be unsealed and seen and filled.

And he sees you. Blade fills you— with yearning and a wretched possessiveness unbecoming of you. But he fills you, nonetheless.

[beanzbeanz001]

Reasons why glammike is canon (fuck you)

1. Blue ass eyes

HES GOT THOSE TERRIFYING WHITE PEOPLE EYES!!! like how you could see that Elizabeth possessed baby when her eyes turned green? EXACTLY. (I’m choosing to ignore that blue eyes fit into his overall color palette)

We can forget the fact that they’re two different shades of blue because Mike had a completely different shade of skin in 83 so I feel it doesn’t matter whatsoever

2. Gregory 🫶🫶

Gregory looks almost EXACTLY like cc I don’t wanna hear SHIT!!! of course he’d wanna protect this kid!! He feels guilty for fuckinf killing one that looked just like him!! Also I feel like he’s why Freddy malfunctioned on stage,, like he saw Gregory and thought “oh shit he’s come back to haunt me” and had a seizure

3. His ruin design

You see how he doesn’t have a head? Guess who else doesn’t have a head. HIS BROTHER!! and you see how he’s got a fucked up stomach? Guess who got dragged into a stomach? HIS SISTER!!! That’s right. Parallels.

Also he’s torn to fucking shreads just like his dad

Edit: I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT THAT THEY SCOOPED HIS ASS!!! MICHEAL ALSO HAD A HOLE IN HIS STOMACH ITS NOT JUST A SIBLING THING!! oops

4. Arson

I don’t know what to tell you it just runs in his dna. His robot ghost dna.

He’s got like what? 4 counts of arson? He just enjoys setting shit on fire idk

5. I want him to be

I think it would be cool

Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[physalian]

When To Keep Your Writing Stiff (pt 7)

Part 6

Part 1

Gonna shoutout a specific fanfic, “Salvage” (ATLA) for writing that is even leaner than mine is, and mine has zero fat whatsoever. This was really good. I particularly like how some scenes were only 2 or 3 lines long as an example of what I’m going for here.

When I say “stiff” in the following examples I’m specifically talking about a lot of the same syntax, few similes and metaphors, few ‘said’ synonyms, very little, well, “life” in the prose. And this can be good in a few situations.

1. Your narrator is in shock

Shock doesn’t all look the same, but the kind of shock I mean is the one where the person is really quiet and un-emotive, they’re probably not speaking or reacting much to whatever catastrophe just happened and probably not responding to their name or anything spoken to them. Their body is pretty much going “uhhhhhhhhh factory reset!” when whatever it is, is too much to process.

A asks them a question. Once. Twice. B stares ahead. There’s a brown stain on the wall that looks like a thumb.

So if they’re narrating, they’re probably going to be giving the absolute bare minimum, need-to-know information and won’t be thinking about the best adjectives and adverbs. Especially if you normally write with fluffier prose, a jarring shift like this can really help sell the shock and dissociating of the character, something so traumatizing that it effects how the story is told.

2. Your narrator is depressed

Somewhere between New Moon’s 4 pages of just Months to show Bella did absolutely nothing in a depression rot and normal prose (though it was effective, particularly in the movie when they could draw out the words on the screen for longer and did the whole spin-around-her-depression-chair montage).

January came. It rained a lot.

They’ll probably either narrate very thinly, or listlessly. They might focus on a random detail and start going on a long ramble about that one detail that isn’t at all important, but it’s either all they can think about or all that can move them to feel anything in this moment, like:

On the bedside table, that coffee mug still sat there in a thin sheet of dust. What had been liquid now long since dry and gluey. It still sits there, collecting cat fur.

This might be the best place for sentences that all sound and flow exactly the same, but use it sparingly.

3. Your narrator is having a panic attack or trapped in a traumatic situation

Different from shock in that while they are physically capable of moving and interacting, they can’t let themselves describe what they’re seeing and feeling in grand detail. Maybe they’re moving through the horrific aftermath of a battle and all they can describe is the mud under their feet and how it squelches. Or they simply say that “there’s bodies everywhere” because looking too long or too hard at who those bodies belonged to is too much.

4. You’re writing something that has incredibly fast pacing

This post was inspired by a fic I just wrote that spanned about 5 months in about 18k words. Narrative was skipping days ahead between paragraphs at some point as my character was processing the end of an abusive relationship. It sped up and slowed down where necessary, but compared to its sequel that I also just finished (22k words across 7 days), I’d covered a whole month in about 2 sentences in the first one.

See nearly any part of Salvage (or my fics if you feel like it)

What happened in that month didn’t matter, only what was before and what’s different now and how this character realizes how their life is slowly changing, some things they never noticed that are suddenly right in their face or things that quietly slipped away.

—

TLDR; sometimes the lack of emotion and sensory details and frenetic, dynamic syntax is the point, that can sell the reader on the narrator’s mental state far better than picking the juiciest adverbs. If it’s so impactful to them that the physical telling of the story is changed, you’ve done your job.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 1

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol. 

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Oral sex. Fingering. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

You’ll never forget the day you met Fushiguro Toji. It was your first day at your first job, straight out of high school. A job you still have now, over two years later: working the register at a convenience store in town. 

That day, you were still being taught the ropes by a friendly older co-worker. You heard the bell on the door signaling a customer was walking in, and you turned to give them the practiced greeting. What you found was the biggest, tallest, hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. He was quite a bit older than you, with a scar on the corner of his mouth, but he was absolutely ripped and had lovely green eyes. He was wearing simple clothes, sweatpants and a T-shirt that clung a little too tightly to his muscular form. 

At first glance, he was intimidating. He had a dangerous aura to him, and you remember thinking that he could rob the place and not even need a weapon. You glanced at your co-worker, who smiled and whispered, “I know he’s kinda scary, but he’s a regular. Don’t worry.”

You watched the man grab a few snacks and a pack of beer, then bring them to the counter. When he was standing right in front of you, his imposing height was even more noticeable. Especially considering your short stature. 

As you nervously rang up his items, you looked up at him and said, “May I please see your ID?”

You felt silly asking this man for ID to buy beer when he was obviously much older than you, but your co-worker was watching your performance on your first day. You’d been told to always ask for ID, no matter what, when selling alcohol. 

The man didn’t seem offended, thank goodness. He pulled out a wallet and then a drivers license. You stared at it, trying to glean as much information as you could without being weird about it. His name was Fushiguro Toji. Thirty-six years old. Shit, he was old enough to be your dad, exactly twice your age at the time. 

But you’d smiled and thanked him, saying the usual, “Have a nice night!”

He smiled back and said, “You too!” as he walked out the door. And you were a goner.

Over the next few months, Toji came into the store often, at least three or four times a week. You’d finally gotten comfortable enough to start making small talk with him, and a few times he even lingered after paying for his items, just chatting with you. 

There was nothing romantic or even flirty about his attitude towards you. He probably thought you were too young for him. But by this point you were nursing a pretty major crush. There was something about his casual, easy-going attitude that contrasted with his huge size and the intimidating, dangerous vibes he emitted. It drove you wild. 

Everything changed one night, nearly a year after you started working at the convenience store. You were working alone on a slow night when a man dressed in dark colors, a hood pulled up over his hair, walked in. He lurked in the store for a bit, browsing the magazine rack and then the beverages. When he finally brought a few items up to the counter, you began ringing them up. 

All at once, out of nowhere, there was a large knife pointing at your throat. The man was holding it steadily in his hand as he said, “Empty the register!”

By reflex, you held your hands up in a motion of surrender. “Please, sir, don’t hurt me! I’m just-“

“Empty the fucking register or I’ll stab you in the fucking face!”

With trembling hands, you opened the register and began placing the stacks of money on the counter. Your heart was pounding rapidly, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead, tears threatening to leak from your eyes. You’d never been more terrified in your life. 

There was a button on the underside of the counter that would trigger an alarm system when pressed, but the man was watching your hands intently. You didn’t dare do anything to anger him. Even so, when you were almost finished emptying the register, he suddenly jabbed the knife in your direction, almost stabbing you in the cheek. 

“You pushed the button, didn’t you?!” he demanded, his eyes wild. 

“No! I never touched it! I swear!”

He raised the knife, preparing to slash down at you, but he froze mid swing when the bell on the door jangled. Both of you looked toward the door, only to see Toji walking inside. 

You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. Toji looked strong, but he was unarmed. You didn’t want him to be hurt. 

Toji looked at you, at your frightened face, your hands in front of you in a defensive position, then at the man holding the knife. The situation must have been clear, because Toji’s expression darkened as he stepped toward the counter. 

The man turned his whole body around to face Toji, the knife now pointed away from you. “Stay back!” the man yelled. There was a tinge of fear in his voice. 

“Are you making trouble in my favorite store? For my favorite cashier?” Toji asked, walking at a leisurely pace. “I can’t let that slide.”

Toji disappeared. That’s the only way you could describe it. He moved so fast that it looked like he disappeared and then reappeared right in front of the man, wrenching the knife free and sending it clattering across the floor. Then, in another instant, the man was on his back on the floor, Toji on top of him, giving him a savage beating. 

You watched the scene with a mixture of awe and fear. Toji was grinning as he repeatedly punched the man in the face, blood and even a couple of teeth flying through the air. It was brutal, it was violent… it was insanely hot. 

When the man stopped moving, seemingly unconscious, Toji stood up and approached the counter. “Are you alright?”

You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. You looked down at your own hands and realized they were still shaking. In one fluid motion, Toji jumped over the counter and stood next to you. “Hey, are you hurt? Did he cut you?”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t seem to speak. Instead, you threw yourself into his arms. He patted your back. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I took care of him for you,” he said in a voice far softer than you’d ever heard from him. 

He ended up staying with you until the police arrived, and that’s the night your crush on him ended. From that night on, you were in love with him. 

It would be several months after that when you confided in your friendly coworker about your feelings. She looked at you in shock and said, “Oh honey, don’t you know what he does for a living?” When you said no, she gave you a pitying look before saying, “He works as a trainer at the Doll House.”

That came as a huge surprise to you, and also felt like a knife to your heart. So he spent his days having sex with beautiful women. No wonder he never flirted with you, or seemed to notice at all when you made clumsy attempts to flirt with him. 

But it was too late. You were already in love, and finding out you had even less of a chance with him than you already thought did nothing to dampen your passion. You found yourself fantasizing about being a doll he was training, about being pinned down by his muscular body and fucked all night long. 

You’d only had one boyfriend, back in high school. The few times you’d slept with him had been unsatisfying and underwhelming. In fact you’d barely felt him when he was inside you. It left you wondering what sex would feel like with a guy who knew what he was doing, or a guy big enough to make sure you felt him. Toji was certainly a big guy. So you dreamed about him taking you in his bed, bending you over a table, even about him coming into the store and lifting you onto the counter so you’d be high enough for him to fuck you without bending too far. 

Now, exactly two years after meeting him, your desire for him is at an all time high. You want him. All of him. You want him physically, of course, but you want him emotionally as well. You want to spend hours talking to him, because your chats in the store just aren’t enough. You want to meet his family, find out what his favorite books and movies are, to cook dinner with him, to just… know him. 

And so, without consulting anyone who might talk some sense into you, you decide to do something totally reckless and probably stupid. 

You’ve paid such close attention to Toji’s buying habits that you’ve figured out his patterns. Every six weeks, like clockwork, he buys a pack of beer and extra snacks. Otherwise he avoids alcohol and only buys a few items. Your guess, considering the timing, is that he buys these items when he’s finished training a doll, almost like a reward to himself for a job well done. 

He came in early today and bought the “magic items” as you call them. Which means his doll’s training is complete as of today. Which means he’s available as a trainer. 

After he leaves, you take off early from work and head over to the Doll House. You park on the street and watch as Toji’s car pulls around to the back, then you see him walking toward the front door. 

This is your only chance! If you don’t act now, you’ll have to wait another six weeks, and you don’t think you can do that. 

Steeling your resolve, you get out of your car and hurry over to stop Toji before he goes inside. 

“Excuse me, Toji?”

He stops and turns to face you, a flicker of

surprise on his face. “Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, his tone friendly. 

You hesitate. You had this all planned out, but standing right here in front of him is making you more nervous than you expected. He’s looking at you curiously, probably wondering why the hell you followed him to his job. In a panic, you just blurt out what you want to say. 

“I’m in love with you!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he says. “I’m flattered, but-“

“And I want to be your doll!”

His face seems to freeze. “Huh?”

Your own face is burning with embarrassment, but you’ve come this far. You can’t back out now. “I want to sell myself to the Doll House, if you’ll agree to be my trainer!”

He leans forward and looks at you closely, then asks, “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty,” you answer. 

He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “Go home. This is no place for you.”

You stare up at him, not backing down. “I’m serious about this. I want you to train me.”

His eyes sweep over you, down and back up. It feels like the first time he’s ever looked at you as a woman. “Look, if you want me to fuck you that badly, I can take you out back and rail you in my car. But you don’t wanna be a doll. Trust me.”

It’s tempting to take him up on that offer. But you can’t let yourself get distracted now. “I don’t just want sex. I mean I want that too but… I’m really in love with you! I want your heart too. If you have no interest in me at all, just say so and I’ll drop it. But if you’re attracted to me, even a tiny bit, let me be your doll!”

**********************

Toji looks down at the girl in front of him, wondering what he did or said to make her feel this way. He’s always thought of her as the cute, cheery little cashier who always greeted him with a bright smile. And that’s pretty much it. He assumed she was younger than she is, probably because she’s so damn short, so it really never occurred to him to think of her in a sexual way. 

But looking at her now, knowing she’s an adult, he thinks she’s quite pretty. Still, she must be naive, or have really bad judgement, if she fell in love with someone like him. And wanting to be a doll? Did she even understand what that meant?

“It’s a ten year contract,” he tells her. “You’re signing away ten years of your life when you become a doll.”

“I know that.”

“You’re basically a sex slave. You have to do all kinds of filthy stuff, whether you want to or not.”

She nods. “I understand.”

Toji thinks she definitely doesn’t understand. She practically has hearts in her eyes. Shit, she’s actually in love with him!

Well, time to give her a wake up call. 

He steps closer, looming over her, exuding a threatening aura. “My training isn’t romantic. It’s not about love,” he tells her in a serious tone, “it’s about fucking you all day and all night until you’re so cock drunk, the only thing you can think about is cock. You’ll feel empty when my dick isn’t buried in your pussy. You’ll feel hungry when you’re not drinking my cum. And even if you’re sore and exhausted, I won’t stop. There’s no breaks in my training. Love will be the last thing on your mind, because by the end of it, you’ll want any cock that’s available, no matter who it belongs to.”

She stares up at him. He expected her to cry and run away, or at least look frightened. But she has a strangely blank expression as she asks, “Are you trying to scare me away?”

He narrows his eyes. “Is it working?”

She smiles. “Nope. I know how I feel. I might get addicted to you, but I’ll never want anyone else!”

He sighs again. “See, that’s another reason I can’t do it. As trainers we’re not supposed to let dolls get attached to us. You’re already attached. How are you gonna feel when I hand you over to some random guy, and you’re stuck with him for ten years?”

She doesn’t falter even then. Instead she says, “I heard a rumor that trainers can keep a doll they’ve trained.”

Oh. So that’s her plan. “Yeah, I can keep exactly one. Not to be rude, because you’re cute and all, but what makes you think I’ll pick you as the one and only doll I can keep?”

She looks him straight in the eyes. “I’m willing to bet on my love. It’s a gamble I can take, because the reward will be worth it.”

He chuckles. “Ten years with me is a reward? You’re delusional.”

“Maybe so. But it doesn’t change how I feel. I bet you’ll fall in love with me before the training is over!”

He laughs and bends over slightly to face her. “And I bet I can turn you into a cock drunk slut who doesn’t care about love.”

Her eyes light up. “So you’ll be my trainer?”

Shit. He got caught up in the moment. He never could resist a bet. “If we do this, you can’t complain. I’m not gonna go easy on you just because I know you from the convenience store. You can’t pull the shy virgin card. I’m gonna be fucking your brains out constantly, filling every hole you have.”

Her face reddens, but there’s excitement in her love struck eyes. “I’m not a virgin,” she says, “and I might be a little shy at first but I’ll get over it.” Then she meets his gaze again. “You’re all I’ve thought about for two years. I want you to wreck me!”

His eyes widen. She’s cuter than he realized. She’s so small framed, he could snap her in half like a twig, but she’s determined and strong willed. He’s starting to look forward to splitting her open on his cock. 

“Okay, if you’re sure about this, come inside and sign the contract,” he says. 

******************

The inside of the Doll House is, oddly, almost exactly how you imagined it would be. Everything looked opulent and classy, the furnishings all expensive, the colors all rich. The smell of some sort of perfume fills the air, making you slightly dizzy as you follow Toji inside. 

“Wait here, I’ll get the owner,” he says, disappearing into a dark hallway. When he returns a few minutes later, a beautiful woman with silver hair is with him, holding a contract. 

“Read this very carefully,” she says, “then sign if you agree to the terms.”

Despite your reckless plan, you still take the time to read over the contract. Everything sounds fair, so you take a pen from the nearby counter and sign on the dotted line. Toji watches with an unreadable expression. 

Once you’ve signed, Toji leads you further into the house, down a hall, and to a door. “This is my room,” he says, opening the door and motioning you in. “You’ll spend most of your time in here, but you’re not confined. You can wander the house if you want.”

Walking into his room, you feel a bit overwhelmed. It’s fancy, like the rest of the house, but there’s enough personal touches for you to see his personality. There’s a large punching bag hanging from the ceiling in the corner, a mini fridge sitting on a cheap-looking metal stand beside a large TV. The bed is made, surprisingly, but it still looks a little sloppy. There’s laundry scattered here and there on the floor. 

“You can send for some clothes and stuff later. You won’t need much thought,” he tells you, tossing some clothes out of a nearby chair. “Here, have a seat.”

You walk over and sit down in the offered chair. Toji leans against the dresser and begins explaining the rules. 

“As a doll under my training, you have to do whatever I say, no matter what it is. If you don’t, you’re breaking the contract. I don’t do freaky shit like punishments or collars or whatever. You’ll see plenty of that with the other trainers. If you don’t follow my orders, I’ll just send you home and you’ll get sued.”

You nod. That all seems simple enough. 

Toji goes to the mini fridge and opens it, then comes toward you with a small bottle of liquid. “Drink this,” he says.

You look at the bottle without touching it. “What is it?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac. It helps with the training.”

“Oh, I don’t think I need that,” you say. 

Toji frowns. “You wanted me to train you, so listen to your trainer. Drink it.”

You take the bottle from him and pull off the lid. After giving the liquid inside a quick sniff, you shrug and down the whole bottle, then give him back the now empty container. 

“How long does it take to work?” you ask. 

He gives you a grin. “Just a few minutes. You’ll know it when you feel it.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying to act cool when you’re about to burst from excitement. The man you’re madly in love with, that you’ve been thinking about nonstop for two years, is going to touch you, kiss you, have sex with you! You want to squeal! But mixed in with the excitement is a little bit of nervousness. What if you can’t satisfy him? What if he’s too rough? 

He’s back to leaning against the dresser, one ankle crossed over the other, casual slide-on sandals on his feet. He’s wearing baggy sweatpants and a form fitting T-shirt, his standard look. God, he looks good. You can’t wait to have those big strong hands on you, sliding over your body, pinning your arms above your head, squeezing your-

Wait. Is the aphrodisiac already working? You were already thirsty for him but suddenly you feel like tackling him to the floor. Your body feels hot, like you’re running a fever. Your breathing has quickened. You look up to find Toji grinning at you. It’s a smug, knowing grin. He knows exactly what’s happening. 

He pushes away from the dresser and casually strolls over to you. “Sure you’re ready for this?” he asks as he stands over you. 

You gulp as you look up at him, probably looking the same way a mouse does before a hungry hawk. “Y-yeah! I’m totally ready!”

He kneels down in front of your chair, placing one hand on each of your thighs, and then moving them up, dragging your skirt with them. Your breath catches in your throat when your skirt is hiked up around your waist, revealing your blue and white striped panties. He locks eyes with you as he hooks his fingers into the waistband and slowly pulls your panties down, sliding them under your ass and all the way off your ankles. 

His hands are firm as they push your legs up and apart, leaving them to hang over each arm of the chair, spreading you open. His eyes flick up to your face once more before he dives in, burying his face in your wet pussy. His tongue goes straight to work, teasing your clit by drawing circles around it while two of his fingers slide inside you. You’re so slick with arousal that they slip right in despite their size, then pump in and out as his lips close around your sensitive nub, sucking hard enough to pull on it, making your body jolt. 

“Oh God!” you moan, your back arching in the chair, your head tossed back. Toji’s lips release you, his tongue now lapping at the juices leaking out of you as his fingers continue moving. You’ve never felt such intense stimulation in your life. And to think… the man you’re crazy about is doing this to you! It’s euphoric. 

You lose track of time as Toji eats you out in the chair. You eats your pussy like he’s a starving man, and you can only quiver and squirm in pleasure, moaning and gasping. 

“Ahhh… Toji!” you scream out when you feel his teeth lightly graze your clit. Then it’s his tongue again, then his lips, and finally your body can’t take any more pleasure. You cum with a loud cry of his name, and you look down just in time to see fluid squirting out of you, most of it hitting Toji right in the face. 

He pulls back, licking his lips and using the collar of his shirt to wipe his face. He laughs and says, “Didn’t know you were a squirter!”

You blush crimson. “I’ve never done that before! I’m sorry it got all over you.”

“Are you kidding? I love squirters! Lets me know I’m doing a good job. You can spray my face anytime.”

Before you can respond to that, Toji stands up and then scoops you into his arms. You feel weightless when held by his massive strength as he carries you to the bed and lies you on your back. 

With expert motions, he pulls your shirt up your body and over your head, tossing it to the floor where it blends in with the rest of the laundry, then slides your skirt down and off, leaving you completely bare. 

Then, he begins undressing himself. You watch breathlessly as he takes his shirt off, revealing his muscled chest. God, he’s gorgeous. He wears a smirk as he shoves his pants down, watching your eyes bulge at the sight of his humongous cock. Oh, you’re definitely going to feel that! If he can even get that tower of a dick to fit. 

Maybe it’s the aphrodisiac, or maybe it’s the fact that you love him, but you’re not scared at all. You just want him inside you, even if he has to tear you apart. So when he climbs onto the bed and pushes your legs up, folding you in half, you’re ecstatic. Even when you feel his tip at your soaking wet entrance, even when his heavy body presses down on you, effectively pinning you to the bed, it doesn’t even occur to you to panic. You look up at him lovingly, waiting for your fantasies to finally come to life. 

He shoves into you, all the way in on the first thrust, stretching you impossibly wide and deep. It takes your breath away, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. It feels like he just penetrated your womb, even if you know that’s physically impossible. There’s a dull, throbbing ache inside you, but it’s a feeling you welcome. Because you’re stuffed so completely full of the man you love. 

After giving you a few moments to accommodate his size, he begins pumping into you, slowly at first but quickly picking up speed. With every thrust, you gasp, your fingers digging into his skin. It hurts and it feels great at the same time. “T-Toji…”

You look up at him, and he’s looking back

at you with heated eyes. “Fuck, you’re tight! Holy shit!” he mutters, thrusting even harder, rocking your whole body against the bed. 

“Ahhh… Toji…. it’s so deep!”

You hear him chuckle, then he leans down, putting his mouth close to your ear as he says, “Baby, I’m only halfway in.”

“What?!” you gaze up at him in shock. “But I thought…”

He grins. “You thought this was it? I’m insulted.” He laughs, patting your head. “You’re adorable. But I think this is all you can handle right now. I’m not into hurting dolls.”

“M-more…” you murmur. 

“Huh?”

“I want more of you! I want all of you!” The words burst from your mouth in a cry as your arms wrap around him. “I don’t care if it hurts! I lo-“

He cuts off your cries with a kiss, his lips smothering your own, his tongue in your mouth. When he pulls away, you’re left panting. 

“There’s plenty of time for that, trust me,” he says, his voice low. “This tight little pussy is gonna get every inch of me. But right now, this is your limit.”

As if to punctuate his words, he gives a hard thrust, making you moan and tighten your grip on his neck. He’s too much, but it’s still not enough for you. You want everything he has, but you agreed to listen to him as your trainer, so you drop the issue and let yourself enjoy the feeling of him inside your body, his toned abdomen scraping across you, the smell of his cologne drifting around the room. 

You didn’t think you could fall anymore deeply in love with him, but you have. 

********************

Toji wants nothing more than to plow his entire length into his new doll’s tiny, drenched pussy, and she’s practically begging for it, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t like hurting dolls. He wasn’t like Sukuna, who got off on inflicting pain. Toji could enjoy giving some asshole a beating, but he’d never understood the appeal of hurting a lover. 

The girl currently writhing in ecstasy beneath him was so small in stature, and a bit younger than the dolls he usually trained. He was aware of his own size, of his unusual strength, and so he had to be careful with dolls like her. He didn’t want to break her. 

As he fucks her, he kisses her again, on her lips, her neck, her breasts, tasting her sweet skin. He slides one hand down between their bodies and finds her clit with his thumb, making her tremble and cry out his name again. 

He looks down at her blissed out face. She’s staring at him so longingly, her face flushed with pleasure, her lips parted and wet with his own saliva, he feels his jaded heart skip a beat. 

Does she actually love him? Or has she just convinced herself that she does? Either way, it doesn’t matter. Within a couple of weeks she’ll be turning those pretty, loving eyes on anything with a cock. 

As for Toji, he will never fall in love with her. He tried love once, long ago, and it only brought him misery. Much easier to have fun fucking dolls and then send them on their way. 

The doll cries out loudly, her body shaking under him as she cums, her arms clinging to him. “Toji… I love you…” she says, barely conscious. 

She really is cute, he thinks, and tight as fuck. He thrusts into her for a few more minutes as she rides out her orgasm, then pulls out of her. His cum shoots out onto her prone body, coating her tits. Her eyes flutter open and she looks down, touching the sticky fluid with her fingers. She looks disappointed. 

“You didn’t cum inside me?” Her voice is weak, almost sad. It makes him want to fill her with his seed until it’s pouring out of her. 

“Not until you get on birth control,” he tells her. It’s something all dolls are expected to do. No one wants to deal with a pregnancy, least of all Toji. One brat is enough for him. 

He gives her a few minutes to catch her breath, then reaches down and rolls her onto her stomach. “Time for round two,” he whispers into her ear. 

She turns her head suddenly to look back at him. “Right now?!”

He points down at his still fully hard cock. “I took one of those aphrodisiacs myself. I can go for hours! I told you, you don’t get breaks in my training.”

There’s a flicker of panic on her face, but it’s quickly replaced by excitement. She draws up her knees and lifts her hips. “Okay. Maybe you can put it all the way in this time?”

His eyes shimmer as he says, “Fuck, you’re already hungry for my cock, aren’t you?”

She blushes but smiles at him. “Well, that, and I just love you so much. I want to feel all of you, everything about you.”

He looks away from her face, focusing on the sexy little ass sticking up in the air. “That’s good for you, then. Cause we’re just getting started.”

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 

[polakina]

on his knees for you

pairing: javier escuella x reader

rating: mature

outline: a robbery goes sideways, and your already rocky friendship with a fellow camp mate is put to the test as you evade the guards of Van Horn

warnings: cursing, so much bickering, canon-typical gore and violence, flirting, slightly suggestive (this is by far the tamest thing i've ever written)

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

a/n: i can't believe how many notifications i've gotten about my works over the past week. its fucking crazy. thank you so much, you're all absolute stars

masterlist

II

It was a simple job, really. Get in, steal the bonds, and get out.

But nothing ever went as simple as the original plan, did it? Not with the Van Der Linde gang. There was always a little bit of improvisation to be had. Which was exactly what you were doing right now.

Bullets firing past your ears, blood running down your leg, the target’s personal guards chasing you down the winding paths of Roanoke Ridge.

-

One day earlier.

The plan was set. Arthur, Bill and Lenny were to infiltrate the building and steal the bonds, while Micah and Charles handled the guards. You and Javier were on lookout, posted at the entrance gates. 

You were all stationed just outside of Van Horn, your target being the mansion and its occupiers. Trelawny had brought intel of bonds on their way through Van Horn to Annesburg, stopping off at the mansion overnight. Roanoke wasn’t a place anyone wanted to be caught up in at night.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” you muttered, leaning further against your horse, absorbing his body heat as much as you could. It had been hours of waiting around and checking on the mansion. No movement whatsoever since the sun began to set. Darkness was nearing and the coach was nowhere to be seen.

Javier stood beside you, rifle in hand, eyes fixated on the road to the right, where the coach should appear from. “Want my poncho?” He asked, glancing at you briefly.

You didn’t even cast him a look as you responded. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your style, Escuella. I think I’ll survive without it.” You sighed, and moved from your position, heading further down the road, hiding in the trees to watch from a different position, seeing the road winding down Roanoke Ridge to New Hanover.

The two of you had never gotten along. He didn’t like your attitude one bit. You were snarky, cold. Something you’d developed after years of running with Arthur and John. He’d try and make conversation, you’d brush it off. He’d invite you on a fishing or hunting trip, you’d decline and say you preferred to hunt alone. He couldn’t win. You never sat with the camp during his songs or meals, you were always perched somewhere else, keeping lookout. That’s what you did. That’s all you ever did. 

So after a few months, he gave up. Not exactly understanding your harshness to him, he just accepted it instead. He returned your cold comments and your mean stares. Years passed and you bickered like enemies living beside one another. 

You whistled out to the group as you spotted the coach. Your whistle blended with the birds, so it was undetected by the gourds watching the bonds.

Everything went smoothly, Arthur, Lenny and Bill making quick work of breaking into the bonds lock box, and you heard the guards grunting and groaning as they hit the floor from Micah and Bill’s attacks.

Through your scope, you spotted as the boys grabbed the bonds, throwing them into their satchels. Drifting your rifle along the side of the mansion, you sensed something wrong with Bill. He was arguing with Micah. More so than usual. 

“What’s going on?” Javier whispered, lying beside you, hidden between the trees.

You shushed him, focusing on Bill. Their argument grew even more heated, and you caught a glimpse of lantern light behind them. You watched as they turned, cursing loudly before returning fire. Micah had scurried off during the brawl with the guards, seeking other treasures and getting himself caught in a scuff with guardsmen minding their own business.

“Shit, shit,” Javier cursed, throwing an arm over you and holding you down, protecting your head as bullets fired your way. “He can’t keep his head for one mission, puta madre!”

Arthur had ordered for, if the mission went south; which you had good money on it that it did, that you scatter. Split up and evade Van Horn at all costs, go the long way around New Hanover until it was safe to return back to camp so you were sure you weren’t followed. 

They had the bonds, all they needed to do was escape without getting caught. But you wouldn’t have minded if Micah got murdered in the. Just when you thought he’d found your last nerve, he managed to hit another one.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” you said through gritted teeth, pushing yourself onto your feet and grabbing your gear. Javier was on your heels, close behind. You hiked deeper into Murfree Brood territory, constantly keeping an eye over your shoulders for lantern light.

“Our safest path is through Roanoke,” Javier said from behind you, following your path through the trees. “The guards won’t dare follow us through there this late at night.”

You halted suddenly, whipping around to face Javier. He was caught off guard, almost stumbling into you, a surprised expression on his face. “Are you crazy, Escuella? Murfree Brood hunt here at night. If it’s not the guards who get us, it’ll be them. And I’d rather take my chances with bullets rather than-”

A bullet shot through the wind, straight through your leg into the tree behind you. It caught your words in your throat and you almost crumbled to the ground under the pain firing down your leg. Javier didn’t even blink as he wrapped an arm around you, catching you before you fell. He pulled his gun from its holster at his hip, pointing it over your shoulder and firing it straight into the head of the guard who fired at you first.

It drew attention. Of course, it did. Javier pulled you away from the scene, down the winding path leading to New Hanover. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, and you tried to hold in your groans of pain as your feet collided with uneven terrain, worsening the sting of the wound.

You both heard voices, coming from the top of the hill of which you had just descended. Javier pulled you around a large oak tree, pushing your body against the bark which pulled a pained gasp from your lips. “Fucking hell, Javier. At least try to be gentler with-” His hand clamped over your mouth, his body pressed against yours as he looked past the tree trunk to the guards making their way past you, checking their surroundings as they went. 

“You need to learn to shut up once in a while,” he whispered, looking back to you. His hat was tipped down his head, shielding his eyes. “I’m trying to save you and you’re still complaining.”

You looked up at him, your mouth still firmly covered, your hand wrapped around his wrist, instinct from when he shut you up. He smelled of whiskey and firewood, his scent filling your nostrils. His hand wrapped around your waist protectively, tightening as the footsteps grew closer.

Pulling his hand down, you noticed his skin never left yours. It rested around your neck. Softly, no pressure in his fingers, but the heat of his palm burned against your pulse, and he felt your heart rate jump. “Thought you would have wanted to get rid of me, Escuella,” you whispered, looking up at him. 

But he just looked down at you, surprised. “What?”

“Get rid of me. Hand me off to some guards searching through half the woods for us.” Your gaze never wavered. “Would certainly save you the trouble of dealing with me back at camp.”

He just smirked, tilting his head up, his eyes turned down to look at you. “And why would I want to get rid of you? Perhaps I enjoy the trouble you cause me. Ever thought about that?” His eyebrows raised as you stood there, unable to form words. “So are you going to  shut up and behave yourself while I get you out of here? Or are you going to keep talking until they figure out where we are?”

Javier waited for your response, but it never came. You just bowed your head, sealing your lips in a thin line. He took that as a sign that you’d ‘shut up and behave’. 

The men eventually left, abandoning their search for you, leaving both you and Javier a window of opportunity to flee.

-

The sun poked out above the trees from the makeshift camp Javier had set up in New Hanover. You were shielded by the canopy of branches, the fire in front of you keeping you warm. But it wasn’t doing anything good for the bullet wound in your leg. You stretched out your leg, wincing at the pain shooting through your body.

“I told you not to try and fix it by yourself,” you heard Javier say as he emerged with an armful of firewood, dropping it by your bags. “Your hands will shake before you’ve finished stitching it.”

You glared up at him. “Would you suggest I just leave it? Cut my leg off?”

Javier rolled his eyes at you, kneeling in front of you, his knees on either side of your wounded leg. “I would suggest…that you should wait for me. I’ll stitch it for you.”

Pulling his knife from the holster at his ankle, he sliced the blade through the fabric of your pant leg like butter. All the way up to your hip. “Hey!” You called out. “They were new pants.”

“I’ll buy you a replacement. Now shut up.” He was always harsh with his words, but now, it was even more so. A slight pang of worry soaked his tone.

“You’re such an ass sometimes-ow!” His fingers pushed against the wound on your leg, blood pooling out to the floor. “The fuck was that for?”

He looked indifferent as he looked up at you. “Feeling for any shrapnel. You don’t have any, thankfully, or else this would have hurt a lot more than its about to.”

“I could have told you that,” you grimaced as he began cleaning the wound. Applying pressure to one end of the bullet hole only forced blood through the other side. You could see both the entry point and exit point of the wound, stretching across the left and right sides of your leg.

You were both silent as he cleaned your leg, but you gasped as he pulled out a needle. He saw a panicked flash across your face, seeing it appear as quickly as it fled. “Easy,” he soothed, patting your knee. “I’ll be quick. You won’t feel it.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you whispered, your eyes only focused on the needle.

He sighed, leaning closer, tipping your chin up to meet his softened gaze. “Okay. You will feel it. But not much. A bee sting, that’s all it feels like. But it’ll be easier if you lie down.”

“Why?”

“Your muscles tense when you sit upright. You could at least be comfortable while I stitch you up.” He helped you into a more comfortable position. Javier still straddled your shin, one of his hands pressed against your thigh while his other stitched the hole closed. You laid there, his poncho acting as your pillow as you looked up at the trees.

You ignored the sting you felt each time the needle pierced your skin. Javier wasn’t wrong, it did feel like a bee sting. What’s more important, was that you could manage that sort of pain. “Thank you,” you said quietly, but you weren’t certain he heard you at first, until the needle stopped in your skin, his actions immoveable. Lifting your head and straining your neck, you met his eye. There was a small smile on his face, the corners of his moustache turned upwards with his laugh lines driven deep into his skin. You always did like his smile. That was the one thing that never changed about him. 

“It’s the least I can do,” he smiled, turning his attention back to your stitches. “It’s sort of my fault you got shot in the first place.”

“Sort of? You mean ‘entirely’?” You laughed as he playfully slapped your other leg with the back of his hand.

“Quit laughing,” he chuckled with you. “Or I’ll end up stabbing you in the wrong place.”

He finished quickly, wiping away any trace of blood before gently bandaging your leg. His soft touch lingered for a little while, his thumb gently rubbing soothing patterns into your skin. Your breath stopped in your throat as his touch rose higher. Higher up your thigh. To where your thigh met your hip. He was so fixated on it, he didn’t realise what he was doing until he felt your pulse beating at an ungodly rate at the top of your inner thigh.

His eyes flicked up to yours, where you laid, patiently. You were curious what sorts of thoughts were running through his head right now. What sort of cogs were turning in that brain of his.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your face closer to his than it had ever been before. “What?” You coaxed, too curious to keep quiet now.

“Nothing,” he moved to lean back, his hands drifting down your thighs, but they never left your body before you grabbed the front of his shirt, holding him in place.

“What did I say? Don’t lie to me, Javier.” Your voice never raised above a whisper. It didn’t need to. You were so close a whisper felt like a shout.

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t speak. The close proximity had rendered him faulty in speech. So instead he closed the gap. His lips touched yours, his body melting against your touch. You didn’t expect it. All those years of bickering. All those years of cruel comments and nasty looks. Nothing prepared you for this. But you welcomed it.

Javier leaned you back, your head meeting the poncho  as you felt his body settle on top of yours. Breaking away for air, you saw a softened, kinder look in his eye when he looked at you. “Is this your apology for me getting shot?” You asked, smiling against his lips as he kissed you once more.

“Is it working?” His lips moved to your neck, hovering above your skin to a point where it tickled.

“Hmm…maybe.” 

“Then perhaps I’ll try a different angle,” he smirked, unbuttoning your pants, encapturing your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He had a lot of making up to do.

[catboybiologist]

The WOKE TRANSGENDER MOB is taking yet another FEMBOY ICON

Fucking bullshit. Fucking BULLSHIT. The woke mob is now saying that beloved femboy icon, CatboyBiologist, is trans and will be medically transitioning. First brisket and now this? Why doesn’t everything conform to the image that I formed in my head for my own benefit? This is forced diversity at its finest.

Look at these absolutely deranged quotes that they’ve CLEARLY forced him to say:

“I didn’t like being masculine from the onset of puberty, and being a ‘femboy’ was a valuable part of figuring out what exactly I wanted to do with that feeling. I’ve been figuring things out for a while, and I currently have appointments lined up to start HRT by the end of this month (August 2023).”

Have they no limits? Have they no shame? CLEARLY this is a fake flag by the sjw communist animal farm 1984 alphabet soup mafia elites to trans the gender of the most cisgender person in existence. It’s abundantly clear that once you represent your gender expression in a particular way, it is completely static and never changes. Exploration is strictly off limits. You’re only a real transgender if your mother gives birth in the endocrinologists office and you get your HRT prescription at 23 seconds old, otherwise you’re a filthy AGP cuck.

As we all know, femboys exist so that I can jack off to men and claim “it’s still straight if it’s femboys bro”, allowing me to ignore my deeply repressed bisexuality. If no femboy is safe from the transing of the genders, then how will I be able to have an outlet for my attraction to men? Finding community and healthily expressing it in a way that doesn’t involve me fetishizing gender nonconformity and unhealthily bottling up my queerness? Fucking disgusting.

We all know that there’s absolutely no precedent for using gender nonconforming cultural trends to explore ones identity before transitioning. That’s why every drag queen has always been a 100% cis man and none have ever pursued transition ever.

Clearly the goal here is to erase feminine men and convert boys into the alphabet mafia. As a someone who regularly jacks off to femboys, I have personally appointed myself as the authority on all things related to gender nonconformity, and I refuse to bow down to the wokeness that is queer people who actually go outside. As this authority, I know from my depths of experience mindlessly scrolling through anime femboys online that femboys are a completely different thing than the lgbtqiaabcdefg rabble, and that they’re based whereas real gay people and gender nonconforming people are cringe. Absolutely no overlap exists between trans people and the gender nonconforming cis people whatsoever. With this authority and knowledge, I have pledged to personally divide and destroy any semblance of queer unity present in the online microcosms I find myself in. And because of this, I have to speak out against this trans agenda.

BULLSHIT I say. They’re transing the genders of the femboys and I won’t stand for it.

[mytaiyakeylover]

scary stares.

synopsis: his gaze is penetrating, like that of a predator ready to pounce on its prey, and you can't help but wonder at what point you managed to anger the gang leader.

pairing: mikey x gn!reader

a/n: i don’t even know how my sleep deprived brain came up with this. was watching some random horror movie at 3 am yesterday and this is what happened😳 part 2?

warnings: just the reader freaking out and mikey being his usual oblivious self. guess some hints of angst too. reader misunderstands mikey, which isn’t that weird.

word count: 1.3k

series masterlist | previous | next

It’s unnerving. The way he keeps staring at you. Black, abyssal eyes penetrate your soul, making you feel exposed — naked even. You don’t know what he wants — what he’s expecting from you.

You feel small under his gaze; like a mouse. It doesn’t seem to bother him whatsoever, dead eyes simply watching you from the other side of the classroom, not paying any mind to what the teacher is saying. Usually you would have at least tried to pay attention — which you are — but the blond boy sitting at the back of the classroom is staring so intently, you can practically feel his eyes lingering on your vulnerable figure.

He doesn’t break eye contact when you look in his direction, and you find yourself shrinking. Perhaps you’re overreacting. One of your friends had once told you that he probably likes you, but you’re not too sure. Not when he keeps looking at you in a similar way that a predator watches its prey. You rake through your brain, trying to remember at what exact instance you had managed to anger the gang leader, but find none.

It’s quite hard to pinpoint what exactly you must have done however, as neither of you had even as much as exchanged one word with each other. The teacher doesn’t make things easier for you as he starts putting students into groups for some project. By some miracle you and Sano just happen to get into the same one. But you try not to show the relief you feel when his tall friend — Ryuguji — also joins you.

They may be friends, but even you were observant enough to notice that the short boy was less intimidating with him. That Ryuguji more or less, had at least some control over the commander. It was also common knowledge that between the both, the taller one was always the more reserved and collected one.

“…So, uh,” you start, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “What exactly were we supposed to do?” You ask tentatively, still feeling quite intimidated by the shorter boy. Ryuguji lets out a barely audible sigh, but then smiles. You think he must be sensing your unease and is trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“Guess somebody must have zoned out, huh,” he states, a teasing smirk appearing on his lips, which urged you to let out an embarrassed laugh. “Guess so,” you mumble, smiling faintly as a soft pink hue dusts your cheeks.

The other boy doesn’t say anything, eyes vacant as he seems to be deep in thought. You’re not too sure of what he’s thinking about, but there is something in your gut telling you that you want to know. Still, the question remains unspoken, letting curiosity simply continue to eat at your sanity. Bits by bits; like a parasite.

It has always been a bad habit of yours. Sometimes you wish you had more courage. More courage to speak your thoughts. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been here right now, feeling like this — so helpless and lonely. It's not that you don't enjoy being alone; in fact, you love it. However, there have always been moments when you wish you had done things differently.

You know you should ask. Should ask why he’s been staring at you for so long — in such a way. To clear things up. To save yourself from the growing anxiety. To protect your sanity.

Then someone clears their throat. It’s Ryuguji. You guess he must have noticed the tension between you and his friend. Sano still doesn't make any acknowledgment of either of you, and you can hear the dragon-tattooed boy sigh from your right.

“There is nothing much, we’re just supposed to answer these questions and then discuss them,” the tall boy explains, losing any hope he may have had previously for his commander. You can practically sense it by the apparent vein that has popped out above his right eyebrow.

A barely audible, “Oh,” leaves your lips at his words. Then you sit down, doing your best to avoid making eye contact with the other boy. He’s still staring, and you're not quite sure what to make out of it. A part of you hoped that it would at least be easier for you to understand what that gaze means. Unfortunately, instead of making things clearer, it only seems to confuse you further.

The closeness isn’t helping in the slightest, despite the desk separating the both of you. If anything, it only makes you more nervous. You try to break the tension by asking him questions here and there, whenever you get to a new question that you need to discuss. Sano never answers you however — never says anything at all, in fact, and Ryuguji looks truly fed up with his behavior.

Time passes. Ryuguji is speaking, but you only seem to hear the ticking of the clock, so all you do is nod. Nodding at him with a polite — and perhaps slightly awkward — smile whenever you catch his lips moving. Heart beating erratically in your rib cage as the oh so familiar irrational sense of fear and dread envelopes your senses.

The feeling leaves you confused as you had never experienced such emotions without any apparent reason. Communication was never a problem for you before. Despite occasionally overthinking things, it had never occurred unless it was due to something you had said that was foolish or poorly thought out. Your friends would sometimes tease you, claiming that you paid too much attention to trivial matters.

“(L/n)-san,” you hear Ryuguji’s voice calling out for you, pulling you out from your thoughts. His eyebrows are furrowed, a look of concern plastering his face. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes widen as you rush to come up with a response. "Of course," you say, realizing you had zoned out. The boy arches an eyebrow in response, dismissing your later stuttered apology with a wave.

A lump forms in your throat as you catch the pair of onyxes still very much concentrated on you. Your cheeks flare up at their intense look, but try not to acknowledge that fact. Instead you simply turn around, and continue on with the questions.

Minutes pass by and you feel cold sweaty trailing down your neck as they remain fixated on you. You try to form a coherent sentence whenever Ryuguji is asking you something, but they only come out as a stuttered mess. The boy is considerate enough to not comment on it however.

You feel a wave of relief flooding your system as the bell rings and the teacher announces the end of the lesson. However, it's only when your feet step out of the classroom that the feeling fully registers in your brain. Even then, you fail to notice the forgotten notebook on your former group member's desk.

Draken sweatdrops at how quickly you bolted out of the classroom, noticing the notebook you had accidentally left behind. He feels slightly guilty for the obvious discomfort you were displaying, fully aware that Mikey's weird demeanor must have caught you off guard. The short boy did look kind of creepy throughout the entire lesson.

He sighs, about to stand up and try to catch up to you, but a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “Hey, Ken-chin?” There is a slightly dreamy lilt to it, and the addressed boy feels his brain short-circuit. He can’t help it, he’s never heard his friend speak in such a manner, like…ever.

“Don’t you think (Y/n)-chan is pretty?”

[tiredcowboyy]

the return of the two kings

It takes 1500 years for it to finally happen and its not in the way merlin thought it would. He thought Arthur would return, but when a man that looks exactly like arthur sits beside merlin in his political science class, well merlin realises that reincarnation wasn’t completely off the table.

Merlin introduces himself on the 3rd class, the first two spent of him subtly studying arthur, his face, his mannerisms, trying to figure out if it was really him, though when he heard the voice and name any doubt was swept away.

From that point on they quickly grew as friends. Merlin wasnt really sure what to do, he was told arthur would return when the world needed him, but nothing about if he was reborn again with no memories of his past reign whatsoever.

It stresses merlin out for a while, he constantly was on edge for any world changing dangers, however after a while he just accepted that maybe there was no reason. Arthur was just born again and he should appreciate that.

They quickly grew close, becoming the best of friends and eventually roommates and merlin couldnt have been happier, content with have the blonde back in his life.

Until one day he gets this urge to walk near the lake of avalon again, something hes not felt like doing since he found arthur again. But he does, distantly thinking it was around this time of year he had lost his king all those years ago. So he goes, the sun still rising as he begins his usual route around the lake. He takes it in, smiling at how much life has changed since he last took this walk.

He was distracted so you cant blame him for how much he was caught off guard, really that wasnt his fault.

“Merlin?”

Despite what anyone who saw would say Merlin did not let out a scream.

He spins around and comes face to face with his best friend, his roommate, his destiny walking out of the lake soaking wet.

“Arthur? What are you doing here? And why are you in the lake? I-“

He pauses, the air ripped out of his lungs as he realises what hes actually looking at. Something was different. Something was wrong. Because this arthur wasnt wearing his usual jeans and jumper, his hair wasn’t slightly too long because hes been too busy with work to get it cut, he wasnt making some joke about merlins poor coffee making skills.

He was wearing chainmail and armour, a sword in his hand one that merlin hadnt seen since that day.

This wasnt the same arthur he left at home this morning, the same arthur who was too busy watching last nights football on catchup to make fun of merlin burning his toast, the same arthur who he has lived with for 6 years and thought was his arthur.

No, this was the same arthur that he held in his arms as he thanked him and took his final breath.

Merlin doesnt know what kind of sick game the world is playing on him but that doesnt matter,

Because now theres two Arthur Pendragons gracing this earth and merlin doesn’t think hes quite as cut out for this destiny thing as he thought he was.

[ihavethedreamies]

Up Close | What the Heart Wants (2)

Qian Kun - NCT/WayV

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~7.3k and all of it is smut

Pairing: Kun x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Altered History AU!, Royalty AU!, Smut, No Plot Whatsoever, Self-Indulgent as Hell

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweetheart, Princess, Pumpkin, etc.), Swearing, Filthy Words/Dirty Talk, Kissing, Hand Kink, Slight Corruption Kink, Praise Kink, Creampie/Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink (obviously), Soft/Dom! Kun, Big Dick! Kun (obviously), Cockbulge, Cockwarming, Hickeys/Marking, Body Worship, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Squirting, Spanking, Just a Bit of Bondage, Breath-Play, Thigh Riding, Hand Job, Fingering/Finger-Fucking, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Intercrural/Thigh Job, Sex on the Stairs, Mirror Sex, Unprotected Sex (Would not Recommend), Kun Being Really Fucking Sexy (as usual) there's so much in this dear lord

Part 1: From Afar - This story can be read as a standalone, since there is no story. I would recommend reading the first part, but you really don't have to.

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, this is just a work of fiction.

Author's Note: Oh Holy Fuck, look at this. I know I said my Good Enough story for Jisung was filthy, nope. This is what I have decided to call a mud puddle because it's that filthy. This is the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written and might ever write. There is maybe two paragraphs of plot at the beginning and end, otherwise its literally 7k+ words of smut.

P.S. Like I said on the last part, Kun is my ultimate bias and so this is my gift to myself.

I split this into two different parts because it would be so long otherwise, plus I wanted this to be independent if someone didn't want to read the first part.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

The sun was setting by the time all the servants and movers left. It took so long since they had to set up everything, even finish decorating. The wait was killing you, probably Kun as well. With bated breath, you watched the door shut, hearing the click loudly and you dashed forward to look out the side window, watching the last helper walk down the sidewalk. Stepping back, you spun around, your flats let you do so smoothly on the wood floor. You bit your lip playfully making Kun chuckle. Watching, enthralled, he removed his blazer, showing his sleeves up, stalking closer.

"Come here, sweetheart." You met him halfway and he yanked you into him as you giggled. His forehead bumped against yours as you both smiled like idiots and when you opened your mouth, you didn't get the chance to speak, his lips already on yours. You whined, fingers gripping the thin fabric of his white button up. Kun's hand buried into your hair at the back of your head, tilting your head to his preferred angle, tongue slipping its way into your mouth when you moaned at the tug. He pushed your body back with his till it hit a table in the entryway. The wooden vase on the table was luckily filled with fake flowers because it hit the floor as he lifted you onto the surface. Finally, you heaved for air when he pulled back, that sinfully delicious smirk present on his face.

"You need to tell me right now, sweetheart, what I can do to you." He twisted his rings off, letting them simply cling on the floor, then he took his watch off, not caring if it broke when it hit the wall after his toss.

"Anything." Your lips brushed his since he was still so close, your hands cupping his face, thumb running over his jawline. His hands grabbed the hem of your thigh-high socks, pulling them down and removing your flats as well. The gentleness of the action tugged at your heart, but the look on his gorgeous face tugged at your core.

"Anything? You might regret that (Y/N)." Your body shuddered hearing his voice sneak your name straight into your ear as his nose nuzzled the side of your face.

"I promise I won't." Kun chuckled, the sound rumbling straight to your cunt, making you sigh. He toed his own shoes off, kicking them behind him, fingers undoing his belt. The leather snapped as he tugged it hard from the belt loops of his pants and it clattered to the floor as well.

"No? You sure?" His hips pressed against the table under your butt, bringing him even closer. Even through layers of clothes, the heat of his body against yours caught your skin on fire, goosebumps rising all over.

"Please, I want you…"

"Want me? Want me to do what?" You knew he was teasing you, but you didn't care, he was right in front of you, his lips lightly brushing your skin, the scent of his cologne invading your mind, and you wanted to taste him again.

"God, I want you to fucking ruin me." You managed to sigh out, head swimming when he ground his hips into you, and you knew for a damn fact that he wasn't hard yet.

"I think I can manage that." he hummed, "safe word?"

"S-Safe word?"

"Sweetheart, I need one or I'm not continuing." What was he planning? Whatever it was you couldn't wait.

"U-uh, Ceres." The choice made his smirk falter into a soft smile, but he regained his composure.

"There's really nothing you're against?"

"Not like, bathroom stuff…"

"Obviously." Kun huffed, shaking his head, a bit worried that people even did that.

"What do you like, sunshine?" He had straightened up, so his face wasn't at your throat, his hand holding yours, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. The move would be so incredibly sweet if not for the context of the conversation. Before you could even try and think of your answer, he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, then took your index and middle finger into his mouth, sucking. You shivered, whimpering at the feeling, thighs twitching so hard he could feel it where he pressed in close.

"U-um…your…hands." You were more focused with how his hand seemed to dwarf yours than even your own fingers in his mouth. Kun arched a brow, pulling your fingers away, wrapping his own around the saliva slicked digits.

"Really?"

"Yes." You swallowed, twisting your hand around his and bringing it close to your lips, much in the same way he did. He leered down at you, tilting his head, making the small pendant in his left ear sway. You dazedly looked over his hand, entranced, so he moved the rest of the way himself, thumb landing on your bottom lip. You mewled and eagerly took his thumb into your mouth, sucking around it.

"You're such a good fucking girl." Kun groaned, shifting his leg, trying to ease the pressure his pants were starting to put on his hardening cock. Your other hand came up to hold his, and you pulled his thumb from your mouth, kissing and licking over the rest of his fingers, enthralled with how big his hand was, how long his fingers were. You gasped when he yanked his hand from yours, but it quickly grabbed your hair at the base of your head and he inhaled your whimper. You didn't even want to fight back, just letting his tongue make its new home in your mouth, tasting over every inch. Kun swirled his tongue around yours, and you heaved air in and out of your nose, salivating further at the taste of his own. You nearly had to tap out, needing a higher dose of air, but he pulled back in the nick of time. Not leaving your brain time to recover, he laid searing kisses to the side of your mouth and down your jaw to below your ear. When the kisses finally reached your neck, right under your chin at your throat, he sealed his lips over the skin, sucking hard on the flesh. The pressure near your windpipe made your hips jump and you mewled when his teeth lightly nibbled, tongue working your skin as well. You obviously couldn't see it yourself, but he grinned with pride at the deep purple mark he had left, then dove back down to leave another in the crook of your neck. Kun tried to press even closer, the table knocking hard against the wall, jerking your covered mound against the bulge in his pants. Your eyes rolled back, fingers gripping hard into his shoulders as his tongue ran from the bow of your collarbone all the way to your ear, then ran over the ridge. Every exposed inch of skin not covered by your shirt seemed to burn and throb, the dark love marks branded you as his. You were forced to lean back till your head hit the wall when he kissed you again, your chest pressed to his. Kun snaked his arms around you, nibbling your bottom lip and mapping the grooves of your teeth with his tongue. His hand cast down your bare thigh, mostly revealed by your shorts, and you followed his prompting and wrapped your legs around his waist. Kun left the kiss once more and you traded tasks, starting to litter his jawline and neck with little pecks and licks as he picked you up. He hitched you a bit higher on him, holding you to him as he carried you toward the sitting room, and he swore, your wet was leaking through the thick fabric of your shorts. The room was darker from the curtains being closed, and he sat on the couch, you on his lap. He had no idea how much it cost but he couldn't wait to turn you into a mess on it, and every other surface possible in the house. As you kissed his neck, he reveled in your heavy breaths and little whines, sighing when your soft lips tried to seal over his skin like his did yours. He wasn't sure if you were unsure of what you were doing or just not thinking straight, but he let you leave a few small kiss marks over his collar bone.

"C-C-Can I take this…off…" You mewled when his arm around your back held you in place as he slid a bit further down into the cushions, pressing your hips down so they rolled your covered cunt over his cock. Your shaky fingers messed with the buttons of his shirt, and he hummed.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"Um…" You got the first three buttons undone, then slumped into him, mind running on overdrive just seeing the first inches of his bare chest. You were pretty small, you actually felt so tiny and soft on him, so sweet. It made him want to corrupt any of your hesitant thoughts into the same lust-fueled ones he had.

"What is it, pretty girl?"

"C-can I request a…pet-name?" You whispered the last part.

"Yes?"

"Um…pumpkin…" You were horribly embarrassed by your own request, that much was obvious since you shrunk into him further, cheek resting on his shoulder, so you looked away from him. Kun rose a brow, wondering how you came to decide on it, and why it seemed to fluster you so much. Then something clicked in his mind, but he planned on acting on his idea later.

"Whatever you want, pumpkin." You gasped, whole body jerking when he said it, and how he said it too… He couldn't fight back a laugh, kissing the crown of your head. Managing the courage to sit up, he cooed at your beet red face, tears shimmering in your eyes.

"Go ahead, pumpkin." He grinned like a madman when your shoulders jerked in a flinch, and you continued to undo his buttons, even shakier. You sighed a groan when you finally pulled his shirt open, and he sat forward so you could completely remove it.

"Oh my god." You groaned, diving back down and kissing over his collar bone more, then down the hard plane of his chest. He watched, incredibly amused, as you moved off of him as your lips moved down, till you kneeled on the floor before him. He rested back further, legs spreading wider to give you room and your mouth watered. Kun grunted when your hot tongue landed just under and to the side of his belly button, running a slick trail all the way up to his sternum. Kissing and nipping back down, your gentle fingers ran over the skin of his stomach, taught over his abdominal muscles. Getting up on your knees more, your hands splayed over his ribs, thumbs rubbing at the underside of his pec, lips sealing at the skin just up from his nipple. You felt the rumbling groan he let out with your tongue, index finger running through the ridges of his ribs. His cock was painfully hard as he watched you leave five bigger hickeys on his torso. One under his belly button, right at the edge of the waist band of his pants, one on his left hip, another at the base of his sternum, a fourth creeping close to his side and the final right over his heart, a faint bite mark visible through the deep red mark.

"Get up here, pumpkin." You squeaked when his hands went under your arms, lifting you like you weighed nothing and plopping you down to straddle his thigh. You could feel his cock straining in his pants, still not as desperate to be free as you were to make it so yourself.

"Later. For now…" His hands encircled your hips, pressing you down and leading your motions, "fuck yourself here." You mewled, and immediately did as he asked. Trying to focus on wiggling your hips over the hard muscle of his thigh, another part of him that was painfully delicious, he worked at your shirt. Getting the buttons undone in the back, he removed the black corset-like vest, then nearly popped the buttons of your undershirt off in his haste. The fabric flew somewhere into the room, and he started his kisses again. Another hickey was left on the swell of your right breast, two on the left, and Kun deftly unsnapped your bra. Too busy easily getting close to orgasm by rubbing your covered cunt on his leg, you gasped in surprise when his lips sucked just as hard on your nipple as he had on other parts of your skin, the slight pain slithered into pleasure and went straight down to your core. Your hips stuttered, having a bit of hard time focusing on humping his leg as his teeth nibbled on your sensitive flesh. The thick seam of your denim shorts wedged into your wet folds, his hard muscle pressing it against your clit. Your breath hitched, and every little breath you let out was laced with a whine or moan. Kun sat back, watching your breasts bounce as you did on his leg, hands on your ass and between your shoulder blades to help hold you up.

"You're so good for me, pumpkin. You wanna cum?" He grinned when you nodded, "please!"

"Okay, sweetheart, you've done so good, cum for me." His words broke the dam, and your body went rigid as waves of pleasure hit you like a freight train. You fell forward, forehead to his bare shoulder, body flinching, leaving a stain in your panties and shorts, and even a bit on his leg. You went limp when the waves died, and you were both surprised at the intensity of your orgasm. Then again, it was possible he could tell you in any circumstance to cum and you would, just from his words alone. Turning your head and looking down, you panted, still resting on him, your quivering fingers going to the tent in his slacks.

"You're so fucking big." You huffed and he couldn't fight a breathy chuckle, sighing as your gentle digits pawed at his cock over the fabric of his pants.

"Stand up, pumpkin. Take the rest off." You did as he asked, so fast you stumbled from the head rush when you stood. Kun kissed your bare tummy as you wiggled the pants off and you swore under your breath. Your last articles of clothing fell to the floor, and you shoved them to the side with your feet.

"W-wait, there-" You flinched when his tongue swirled in your belly button, and he literally felt a drip of your slick hit his knee.

"Sensitive?" You could feel his smile against your skin, and you nodded, trembling when his tongue ran the same trail you left on him, but he finished at your nipple. He pulled you back down, your back arched as he nibbled at your peak, and you settled on the couch between his legs. The couch was big enough for you to kneel there between his legs, and you eagerly went for the button of his pants. He pulled back, running his fingers gently over your back, watching as you wrestled to get the zipper down. Biting your lip, you grinned, bouncing in excitement as your hand met his hard cock, flesh hot in your grip. Your fingers couldn't even touch and you pulled his dick out, whining long and low.

"So pretty~" You giggled, and your mouth hung open, a drop of drool falling past your lips, aiding your second hand as it joined. He exhaled, enjoying feeling your soft hands eagerly stroke his cock, hardening fully in your grip.

"Ah!" You squealed in glee when his finger met your folds, and he furrowed his brow.

"You're fucking soaked, pumpkin."

"I have been since you grabbed my face last week." You moaned, twitching at the feeling of his fingers skating through your slick cunt.

"Oh, fuck, yes~!" Your hands faltered, but managed to continue as he buried his fingers inside you, the slight burn fading fast into pleasure. His fingers reached deeper than yours ever could, and even just two spread you further than Yuta's… Scolding yourself, Kun must have noticed your slightly wandering thoughts, crooking his fingers hard against the rougher spot of your back wall, taking your breath away.

"Focus on me, princess." His tone got just a tad sterner, and he huffed in awe as your cunt clenched around his fingers.

"Y-yessir." You mumbled and Kun groaned.

"You're such a good girl, (Y/N)." Your gummy walls pulsed harder, and he loved being able to tell just from your body what his words did to you. When his ring finger joined the other two, wiggling and prodding at your walls your pace halted, eyes closing.

"Keep going, princess, good job." His other hand rested over yours, guiding your movements. Kun's hand was soaked, your wet dripping onto the couch and he couldn't wait to taste you.

"Fuck- wait, fuckfuckfuck." He had added a fourth finger, and you fell onto him, hands stopping entirely, breathing hard to get used to the stretch.

"Sorry, pumpkin. You're too tight right now, I don't want to hurt you."

"You can -oh my god- you can if you want to~"

"We'll see what the night brings." He grinned and as you got used to the stretch, your hands picked the pace up, and his dick pulsed in your hands.

"Just a bit more, sunshine, just…" Kun sighed, and he pressed into your weakest spot, hard, and your grip tightened, falling over the edge. Watching his hand become drenched with your own release, he joined you and you squealed in glee as sticky ropes of hot cum spurted over your hands and onto your stomach. Huffing and panting for breath, heart racing, he stayed just as hard under your hands, like he hadn't even finished. Before he even decided if he wanted to ask you too, you wiped up your stomach, then brought your hands to your lips, licking his cum from your skin like it was honey. Your hips jerked when he pulled his fingers from your cunt, bringing his hand to join yours and you took his fingers into your mouth instead. Cleaning every drop of your own release, he couldn't help but marvel at how you seemed to crave him, even more than he you.

"Hm, how good are you here?" His now licked-clean hand when to your throat, not tight, but his thumb did press against your trachea.

"Can I show you?" You seemed shy to meet his eyes.

"Of course, pumpkin." He let you go, shoving the coffee table hard with his foot so it was out of your way when you kneeled on the floor. His sticky release still stuck to his cock and wiggled your jaw, estimating. The vibration from your lips as you moaned, taking the fat head of his cock into your mouth, made him grunt. Eagerly, thirstily, your tongue drank each trail of jizz, swirling over the head, tasting the precum spilling from the tip. You used to be proud of how far you could open your mouth, the dentist always telling you that you did well, but Kun's cock was that fucking thick. Your jaw muscles protested when you swallowed the tip, eyes rolling back at the thought of his delicious dick splitting your cunt in half. More precum and saliva spilling past your lips, trying desperately to fight your aching jaw and take his dick all the way into your mouth. At the angle, you couldn't press him in any deeper when the head hit your throat, swallowing to fight back a gag.

"You were made for me, huh? Just for me." Kun grinned, fingers gently weaving into your hair, then gripping hard, yanking your head back. His hand gripped your face, thumb on your bottom lip forcing your mouth open. You held your tongue out, a glob of spit falling from his bottom lip and onto your tongue. Kun grinned wide when you swallowed and ran his fingers through your soft hair.  Not too hard, he directed you by the hair to scoot backwards on the floor, then pulled your head back toward his cock. His gorgeous hand gripped his dick at the base, and you whimpered when he rested the fat head on your lolling tongue.

"How long can you hold your breath?"

"Um, a while. But for this…if you give me like six or seven seconds between thrusts, I won't gag…" You were a bit shy that you already knew this, but you weren't exactly inexperienced.

"Hm, that so? You won't be able to talk while you swallow my cock, so tap out on my thigh if you need to stop, okay? Three times."

"O-Okay."

"Hm, my sweet girl, you ready?" You nodded, obediently planting your hands on the floor to stabilize yourself, splaying your legs to get lower. You inhaled deep through your nose, using measured breaths through your nose as Kun eased his cock into your waiting mouth. The taste of him alone made your head swim, let alone when the tip met the back your throat.

"Good girl, my sweetheart." His voice didn't match the debauched grin he had adorned, watching in delight as your lips encircled his cock. Slowly, with each thrust, he buried his cock deeper into your gullet, and you inhaled hard, body jerking when he filled your mouth, pressing your nose to the skin of his groin. Your eyes rolled back, fighting a gag, holding your breath obediently, cunt pulsing in need.

"Fucking hell, (Y/N), you're an angel." Kun’s fingers carted through your hair, holding your head still, pulling his hips back enough to let you breathe. He learned the sound of your inhales and exhales, then began to batter his fat cock into your throat. Drool dripped down from your lips, splatting on the floor, the salt of his precum and the residue of his orgasm making your mouth water more. Only a few tears pricked at your eyes, a soft gag forced its way up every so often. He gave you longer breaks between complete air cut-offs, he had too much stamina, he wanted you to last. One of his hands left your hair, pressing against your throat, feeling the bulge of his cock as it fucked deep. Your vision was blurring, chest heaving, even with the breaks he gave you, your need for air was growing, but the dull pressure of restriction fueled the fire in your cunt. Kun's eyes glanced to the clock, you were a fucking champ, he was shocked you could tolerate swallowing his big dick for nearly five minutes. You were about to learn he had the stamina of a fucking bear, and he was pent up beyond all get out. He had been wanting to ruin you in the dirtiest ways possible for too long.

"You want my cum down your throat pumpkin?" You moaned, hands going to the backs of his thighs and Kun groaned, the sound slightly rising in pitch as he got closer.

"Breathe." He pulled out far, you sucked in a huge breath, and he buried his pulsing cock as deep as he could and came. He was so deep you almost couldn't taste his cum, but your tummy warmed. He came like a bull. You tapped his thigh twice and he pulled back, the last few small drops leaving the tip as it sat on your tongue. He was still half-hard, but he would need a bit more time to recover.

"Can you stand?" He panted slightly, contrasted with your deep and laborious breaths. You just nodded, throat burning from getting hit like a battering ram.

"Here, lets get you something to drink." He helped you stand, leading you to the bathroom that just happened to be past the closest door. You looked at your face in the mirror, red and splotchy, lips coated in drool and cum. You didn't bother finding a cup, you just turned the water on and used your hand to drink. Nearly choking, you hadn't notice him slink out of view of the mirror, and something warm and wet met your cunt. You cripped the counter, head bumping the mirror, shakily shutting the water off as his tongue snaked into your core.

"You taste so fucking good, sunshine." Kun's groan echoed in the bathroom, and he felt your legs weaken. He wrapped his arm around your hips, hand pressed to your lower stomach, the other around your leg to hold you up. His tongue left your core, sliding through your folds, swirling around your clit and you jerked against the counter, the soap dispenser falling over, rolling into the sink itself.

"K-Kun!" You gasped twice, then keened a moan, falling apart on his tongue. Your cunt spasmed, your release squirting over his face and chin and onto the floor, your vision spotted.

"Have you ever squirted before, pumpkin?" He licked at your inner thighs to clean the trails of wet from the skin.

"N-No."

"Good, only for me then?" He hummed in delight, kissing your ass cheek, then stood up. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, fully hard cock pressing into the cleft of your ass. His hug was so warm and gentle, his nose nuzzling your messy hair, a soft kiss pressed above your ear. Grabbing your hand, he led you from the bathroom, into the hall, and then he pressed your shoulders down. Your knees hit the rug at the base of the stairs, your hands catching yourself a few steps up, and he kneeled behind you. Kun fucked his cock between your thighs, more wet dripping down from your cunt already, slicking the skin. Even your thighs trembled at the girth and a thick vein running down the shaft skated perfectly against your clit. Your little button was already swollen, and it pulsed, stinging just slightly at the continued stimulation. Sighing in dismay when he pulled back from you, his cock leaving the soft flesh of your thighs, you instead hummed in delight when he moved the tip to your cunt. Just the very end nudged into your core, your walls already fluttering in shock at the intrusion. It was one thing holding him in your hands, or even in your mouth, he felt like he was hung like a horse as the fat head started to press in.

"Good girl, my love, breathe slow." His hands cupped your waist, thumbs rubbing comforting circles into your back. Was fucking you from behind for the first time the best idea? Probably not, he hoped he didn't go so deep it hurt. Your whole body spasmed alone with your wet, hot core, every little centimeter searing burning pleasure into you.

"Oh my god, Kun~! You're gonna break me~!" You squealed, delighted, his cock only halfway inside before you came again. He halted as your already tight cavern gripped his cock like a vice, another puddle of wet forming on the stairs.

"Already?" He huffed, waiting for the waves to die before continuing to press in.

"I-Its because it's you. Fuck, your finally inside me…I'm gonna-!" You gasped, your fading orgasm cresting back up, and he took the chance. Kun snapped his hips hard, burying in all the way, head pressing against your cervix, forcing your next climax from you. Your pussy walls, clit and nearly entire lower half burned from overstimulation, the sting quickly growing painful, before dulling into just a buzz, pleasureful once more. Kun saw you white knuckling the bottom of the banister, shoulders jerking, and he leaned down over you, pressing his chest to your back.

"Need a sec…" You whispered and he hummed, kissing over your back and shoulders.

"Your sweet pussy is so good around me, princess, you feel so fucking good-" He paused his words, not wanting to go overboard.

"Yeah?" You whimpered and he chuckled.

"Of course, pumpkin. You're taking my cock like a queen."

"Oh, god, it’s the best, your cock is so big, fuck, Kun! Just fuck me already!" You cried and he exhaled hard.

"You want my cock, pumpkin? Want me to ruin your tight little cunt? Mold it to my dick till no one else could ever compare? Make your body mine?" He let his words go, and he was glad he did, your core fluttering and leaking at each sentence.

"Please! Please, Kun, please, da-" Your words cut off as you moaned, all air and sanity being pulled from you as he pulled his cock out just an inch.

"I'll give you it, pumpkin, take daddy's cock." He was too intuitive for his own good, and he rolled his hips, fucking back into you hard and shallow, your breath hitching with each pound.

"Yes, daddy! Fucking fuck, ruin me, please! I'm yours, only yours…" You were rambling, words slurring, body dropping on to the stairs. The slight thrusts had so much power behind them, every ridge of his dick perfectly running over your weak spot, making your brain short circuit. Sweat dripped down both of your foreheads, a drop running down his neck, chest, stomach and his thigh, more dripping onto your back, meeting your own and falling to the wood below. Kun started to leave more sucks on your skin along your spine, large hand splayed over your stomach right under your breasts, the other meeting yours, fingers weaving between yours.

"(Y/N), I love you. Fuck, you're so perfect for me, sweetheart. Damn, I wished I could’ve had you sooner."

"I…love-! Love-!  You too! Holy fuck, daddy, I'm so close!" You giggled like a fool, squeaking as his thrusts built power, pulling out not even quite hallway before slamming back home.

"You're so fucking wet, pumpkin, your making such a sweet mess." He huffed, looking down to see the shine of your slick all over your thighs and ass, and gleaming on his cock, groin and down his balls and inner thighs.

"Wanna cum? Cum while daddy's cock makes a mess of you?"

"Yes, please? Can I daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart, go ahead, my good girl." He stopped his movements, cock head pressing hard against your womb and your cunt wept, burning from overstimulation but you needed more.

"No! Nonono!" You babbled when he pulled out, your sticky release coating his dick, dripping to the floor.

"Ah, wha-?" You yelped as he wrapped and arm around you, spinning you and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of rice. Trying to balance yourself with your weak muscles, Kun moved down the hall toward the master that was luckily downstairs, arm around your thighs to hold you. When you wouldn't stop wiggling, his other hand came down hard on the flesh of your ass, a red welt instantly forming, and your babbling stopped with a choke. Slick drooled onto his shoulder from where you rested on it and he kicked the door closer, stalking to the bed. Nearly dropping you onto the mattress, he flipped you on to your stomach, smacking your ass again.

"Move up." You scrambled to do so, peaking behind you over your shoulder to watch him drop his pants, fat cock standing proud against his stomach, coated in your wet. With bated breath you watched him open a dresser drawer, pulling a red tie out, then he joined you on the bed. Kneeling next to you, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you further up, shifting the blankets under you. Kun wrapped the soft red material around your wrist, then looped it through a gap in the headboard meant for securing the mattress. Finalizing the tie around your other wrist, you gently tugged, not really wanting to even try and resist.

"Okay?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good." You felt a little nervous to, but glanced behind you none-the-less, and not even ten seconds later, his hand landed on your right ass cheek. You gasped, the searing heat jolting straight to your cunt, and he marveled at your reddened skin.

"You're such a good girl, pumpkin, but I also like your little noises-" smack, on the left, "when I do that, plus," smack, right, "you like it too, hm?"

"Yes, daddy!" You yelped as his hand landed on the left again, before the next landed right in the middle. Your pussy wept, his fingers sliding against your cunt, and you spoke, a little scared.

"J-just don't hit me there, please." You wiggled your hips, his finger running through your folds.

"Okay, pumpkin, I won't. You're so good for me." He kissed your shoulder again, and you sighed when the head of his dick met your core again. His thrust shifted you up the bed a bit, the stretch still burning a bit.

"Hold on here." He helped you wrap the slack of the tie around your hands, then you grabbed the edge of the mattress. You sucked in air at the feeling of him pulling back, leaving just the head of his cock inside you, then back in slowly. Disappointed and relieved at the same time, your cunt pulsed and twitched, trying to accommodate his fat girth. With each movement of his hips, it got a bit harder, and you bit the pillow your face was buried in at a good time, because he snapped his hips, starting a brutal pace. You nearly screamed into the pillow, and he forced it lower so you couldn't muffle your sounds.

"I want to hear you, pumpkin. Want everyone to. Hear your mine." He chuckled darkly, grunting, the smack of your skin on his carrying through the room. Each impact of his hips and pelvis against your backside made the hand-marked reddened skin sting deliciously.

"(Y/N), my sweet girl, I'm gonna cum, cum inside you. Hmm, you want me to fuck you full?"

"Oh, fuck, pleasepleaseplease, yes, god, Kun!" You froze, twitching, shuddering when he filled you, tip pressed into your womb, painting your insides white. Heat spread from your core up to your heaving chest and down all the way to your toes. Globs and streaks of your combined releases dripped onto the brand-new covers, spilling from your spasming cunt where he split you open. He watched with a smirk as your pussy spasmed, milking his cock for every drop.

"How the fuck are you still hard?" You managed to whisper out and he chuckled.

"Do you know how long I've wanted you, sweetheart? Too long. Plus, I need to fuck any memory of anyone else from your body, every cell. You're mine."

"Oh~" You sighed at his words, watching him untie the red fabric. Gently, he pulled out, globs of jizz spilling from your cunt and he just smiled, flipping you over. Hitching your legs up to wrap around his middle, even if he was still a bit sensitive himself, his dick slid inside you once more.

"So tight, my love." Kun licked his lips, and your body shivered at the feeling, the different angle hitting new spots inside you.

"Oh, look, pumpkin." He hummed, sitting up, hand on your lower stomach, hiding the subtle bulge evident beneath your skin. When you worked up the strength to look, he moved his hand and the sight made your head swim, gummy walls clenching even harder.

"You're so small, but you're taking me in still, this sweet cunt’s just for me."

"Yes, your fat cock is- oh, fuck, god it's so good!" Your own hand pressed on the bulge, head tossed back, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. You didn't have the strength to hold your own legs up, and he moved your legs from resting over his elbows, to pressing your thighs to your chest. Your eyes widened, knees at your ears, his cock bottoming out.

"Damn." Kun hummed, loving how easily your body folded for him. He started with the same shallow, hard thrusts as he did on the stairs, picking the pace up some, holding your legs with his chest, ankles by his ears. One hand landed on the headboard to support his weight, the other cupped your jaw. The soft gesture changed as his palm slid down, thumb pressing on the other side of your wind pipe, and pressed slightly. Your air only felt the slightest bit restricted, but where he pressed made his grip feel tighter.

"God, fuck! Daddy~!" Your hands went to his wrist, holding it there, body jerking under his from his fervent pace. His own peak was rising faster than he anticipated, and you felt his cock pulse inside you.

"Cum in me more, please! Want your cum!"

"Hm I can do that. Fuck you full, make it drip from you for days, fill you with me." Kun leaned close to your ear, kissing under it, then sucking on your ear lobe. One, two, three more thrusts and he fucked even more cum into you, already stuffed full, spurts of hot sticky white oozing out and your vision spotted, cunt stinging as you fell apart as well. Your consciousness was fading, exhausted, and you felt his hand leave your throat before you slipped into a light sleep.

~~~

You must have slept through the night since you could see light fading into the room through the curtains, the sun had been setting when you and Kun first started…well, fucking. No way to romanticize it. You were sore beyond all get out, but somehow not satisfied. Neither was Kun it seemed, because he held you to him, both of you completely naked, his hard cock wedged between you two.

"Oh, god." You had nearly forgotten how big he was, the soreness making sense. Small points all over you were sore too, the little hickeys and bites he littered you with. Your ass stung as well, but the most overwhelming feeling was how nice it felt to be surrounded by him. He easily wrapped around you, your body fitting perfectly in the curve of his own, really making you feel made for him.

"You too sore, my love?" His voice made you flinch, not from startling you, but it was deeper and rougher from his sleep.

"I don't think so." You mumbled, throat protesting at you speaking, "though I think I'll be bedridden for the next week." You huffed and he hummed, nuzzling behind your ear.

"Let's start slow." His arm around your middle left, the one under your head curling around your shoulders, pulling you back toward him even more. Shuddering as the head of his dick once again found its home inside you, your pussy jerked in protest, but the slick heat of your walls sucked him in desperately. Bottoming out, he nestled even closer, kissing your head, stilling almost like he fell back asleep. Slowly, the sharp sting faded into the same tingling burn of pleasure, and you experimentally clenched around his cock. Kun huffed in amusement, proving he was still awake, and you felt yourself wake up further as well, nerve endings firing up from the warming feeling spreading from inside out.

"What round will this be?" Kun hummed at your question, thinking.

"Not sure, not enough though." You felt and heard the sucking noise his dick made as it left you, your vision whirling as he flipped you over. Your arms shakily held you up on his chest, his hands on your hips holding you up, hovering over his cock.

"You control the pace, don't want to overdo it." Using his arms to help you ease down and not just drop onto his fat cock, you eased him in, shivering when your clit met the slick you left on his groan, panting, trying to get used to him once more. The idea was good in theory, not great in practice though. You were tired and shaky, so as you started to rock and bounce on his dick, your thighs yelled at you. Still, the pleasure you already felt building spurred you on, almost like an adrenaline rush, but you couldn't keep your pace consistent. You were getting frustrated, and he could tell, hands still at your waist holding you to stop.

"S-sorry."

"Oh, pumpkin, that's fine. Let's do something different." He sat up, helping you dismount, and you whimpered at the loss. Kun kissed quickly and softly all over your face, and you giggled, bowing your head to escape the ticklish onslaught. He scooted back so his back rested against the headboard and he had you face away from him. Easing back down, you straddled his legs, and resting against him when he filled you back up. Moving his legs under yours, he brought his knees up and you were forced back against him more, his legs spreading yours further. Sighing, shakily, you rested your head back against his shoulder, hands falling on his arms around your middle.

"Look, there, pumpkin." He nodded forward and you shifted to do so, finding your reflection in the mirror behind the dresser.

"Did you have them put that there on purpose?" You yiped when his hips jumped, and he hummed coyly.

"I have no idea why it's there." Kun tried not to laugh, and you felt his body stiffen under you. Using his feet as leverage, he started to jerk his cock up into you, quick and deep. You were held up entirely by him, back pressed to his chest, legs over his. Already your clit stung, but you needed him one more time, just one more before you would be satisfied. It seemed he didn't need long either, the same familiar pulse thrummed from his cock and through you. His cum from the day before had still been leaking out of you, formed a ring around where he entered you, mixed with is pre and your slick. You watched enthralled in the mirror, amazed at the ease in which he fucked up into you, and how much of a mess you were.

"Fuck, (Y/N), come with me pumpkin." His hand fell to your clit, flicking it just twice before your body seized, cunt spasming hard even through the soreness and you managed to keep your eyes, watching his release spill from you. As you lay on him, both of you panting, he nuzzled your ear.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you, too." You mumbled, exhausted already.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

You dozed while he prepared a bath in the jacuzzi of the master suite. With soft and loving movements, he washed your hair and body, massaging away some of the soreness.

"You don't have to wash me too, sweetheart." He chuckled when you lathered up the loofa again. You sent him a playful glare and he sighed, letting you eagerly run the scrubber over his skin before you ditched it in lieu of stroking the soap over him with your hands instead. You looked like you were on a mission, focused, face red with excitement.

"You're so cute." He cooed, brushing a strand of damp hair from your forehead, his own wet hair slicked back.

"And you're the sexiest thing on the face of the earth." You copied his same gentle tone, and it made him laugh. That was the best sound you've ever heard. When he helped out of the bath, legs still shaky, he wrapped his robe around you, going for just a towel around his waist, and you swam in it. It was so nice and soft and smelled like him.

"This is mine now." You declared, shuffling into the bedroom from the bathroom and he laughed again. He cooked you breakfast as you sat on the counter, a pillow under your sore butt, legs swinging. As he waited for the pan to heat up, he nestled between your legs, brushing your nose with his. You had never felt sure pure and gentle love before. Despite neither of you being able to be with each other for so long, you were close enough to fall for each other. At first you thought it was irrational, infatuation, but looking at him before you, with the same loving look reflected in his eyes, you knew that he was yours, and you his. Something you could only really see from up close.

Part 1: From Afar

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[blamemma]

Emma, I know you are still on the delusional hopium just like I am - so using this as a safe space to say: the one thing that gets me, that stops me from getting any real closure, is when the official announcement graphic was made if mentioned that Daniel had departed RB (I.e. Racing Bulls). There’s been absolutely nothing to say he’s left Red Bull Racing and it has me so 🤔🤔🤔

What’s the plan then? Is he just going to sit on their payroll forever? Of course, they want him to take up an ambassador role but if he hasn’t taken it up by now I really don’t see him doing it ever.

Delusional copium in me: they need these six races to assess Liam and their full 2025 options, Daniel obviously wasn’t happy to take (or officially announce) a reserve role and so they just…haven’t announced anything. Hence, all the smoke and mirrors around Singapore. In the meantime, he is still in the drivers pool for 2025/26 and any official decision will come at the end of this season. Either Checo finds his form (he won’t) or Liam will blow everyone away in these next 5 races (he won’t) and if that doesn’t happen….they have the perfect time to announce Daniel’s return to the team in Australia next year 🤷🏼‍♀️

me at the helm of the sinking ship like woooooo lets go lesbians billy eichner style until we're literally at the bottom of the ocean decomposing at this rate. idk i just. its something i said to the girls from the beginning. f1 was his dream from a child. and he made it. he should be so proud. but his new dream was making it back to red bull, and he still hoped he would win a wdc one day. and that was our dream as well. we shared in that dream. it's hard to just....stop dreaming one day.

but yes. no r word in the statement. no updates or anything on his website (trust me, i check around 5 times a day). no official word or leaked comments or anything from him. we're still processing all this, so it hurts to think how weird this processing thing must be for him, but i switch between thinking, oh there's still hope, to oh he's just taking his time around 20 times an hour. i have my theories about the contracts and how that planned out and i have my feelings regarding red bull and how they've handled this fall out and i have....other things. but how exactly does a rookie prove within 6 races he is ready. and what happens when he ultimately proves he's not....i'm sorry but going up against max is a battle. a hard one. max is the best. i go round and round and round in circles arguing over and over and over again that the best driver for that second seat is a known quantity. someone who has respect and admiration for max, which daniel has proven time and time again. who will fight, and fight hard. has daniel not shown, fight, resilience, respect, over these past few months and years? yes, a million times over in so many different iterations. until i truly see....a final point. a statement or movement from daniel. an actual confirmation from red bull over....things.....i can't let it go, because ultimately, none of this makes sense. the crux to me of sooooo much of this, is singapore did not make any sense. at all. none. whatsoever.