#he gets trapped instead of genuine concern

[tastethesetears]

IS IT OVER NOW?

[whore4mattsturniolo]

4/20 Special - A Dealer!Matt Blurb

This was your fault. Matt warned you not to eat the whole edible in one sitting. He told you that the small bite would give you the euphoria you were craving. But you didn’t listen. You thought you’d be fine. Maybe even pass out before it fully hit.

Instead, you were wide awake, pinned to your bed by a weight you couldn't fight off, feeling every second of it like time was melting around you.

The world slowed to a crawl, the music in the background drowned out by your heartbeat pounding like a drumline in your chest, begging to break out of your ribcage. Your vision was blurry and staggered, your body heavy and limp. Tears brimmed at your waterline as you ran shaky hands over your face, desperately trying to make the high go away. You could barely breathe. Your chest ached with panic. Your stomach churned like you were about to hurl, though nothing came up. You knew you couldn't OD on weed, but you felt pretty damn close to it.

You tried squeezing your eyes shut, but that was a mistake too. The moment your lids closed, it was like you were trapped on a spinning carnival ride, everything tilting and twisting and flipping in your skull. You were dizzy but frozen, grounded and weightless all at once

You ran your fingertips over your soft blanket, trying to calm yourself down, trying to feel something that made sense. Your senses were screaming all at once, but none of them made contact with reality.

With unsteady hands, you reached for your phone. The light from the screen stabbed into your skull, making your eyes water more than they already were. Every second that passed between the dial tone and the ring felt infinite. You weren’t even sure if you pressed the right contact.

“What?” Matt’s voice cuts through your racing thoughts as you clutch the phone tight. You could've cried out of relief right then and there. You go to speak, but your voice is hoarse and dry, your throat raw.

“What’s up?” He speaks again, his tone growing increasingly aggravated the longer he’s forced to wait for your vocal chords to work again.

You cough out half a breath, struggling to piece together a sentence. “H一Hi, Matt…” You manage to say, your voice shaky and weak. “I一Um…” Your mind works faster than your tongue could form the words, the train of thought running in your brain speeding past you.

“Spit it out, kid,” He says, the sound of his turn signal echoing in your ears over the phone line. “You good? Y’alright?”

Trembling, you shake your head as if he could see you. “No…M’not…Not okay…” Tears spilled over, hot and fast, making your cheeks burn. It was more embarrassing crying over a bad trip than having a bad trip at all, even if it was your first time. Shame and fear, surged through your body, your chest aching like you were five years old and lost in a grocery store.

“Fuck, man.” Matt muttered the sound of cars whipping by in the background. He was driving, maybe making a drop. You felt even worse. He pinches the bridge of his nose, caught between frustration and guilt.

You’d been one of Matt’s favorite clients from the start, so inexperienced you didn’t even know how to roll a joint when you first met. But he never made you feel stupid for it. If anything, he found your cluelessness endearing. He took his time walking you through the basics, always patient, always willing to teach. It wasn’t just business with you. He actually gave a damn.

His heart clenched as he listened to your shaky breaths over the phone. “You ate the whole thing? I told you not to eat the whole thing!” He raises his voice, though it was more out of concern than genuine anger.

You wince at the loudness, your words getting caught in your throat. “I didn’t…” you whimpered. “Just… most of it.”

Matt runs his tongue over his teeth, clearly irritated but trying to keep his cool. It’s April 20th, and for a dealer, that means nonstop chaos. His phone’s practically on fire, clients texting and calling every minute, begging for a gram or two to keep the night going. He should be out making drops, but instead, he’s stuck listening to you, and even though he doesn’t have time to baby you, how could he not? You sounded so…small. So scared.

“Kid, it’s literally 4/20,” he mutters flatly. “I got people hittin’ my line non-stop.”

Your heart twangs at his response as you swallow hard, shame burning in your gut. You knew it was a busy night for him. But, he was all you wanted in that moment. “I feel like I’m dying…” you murmured, voice trembling. “Matt, am I dying?” Your pulse begins to pick up again, heart thudding faster than your thoughts could keep up. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even tell if your words made sense anymore.

“Hey, hey, calm down, alright?” Matt voice drops to something gentler, more deliberate. He parks his car across the street from his client’s house, holding the phone close to his face. “You’re not dying. You’re just greenin’ out. Happens to everyone when they don’t know their limit."

You couldn’t respond. Your fingers were gripping the phone like it might vanish if you let go. Your body was still trembling, the panic making you cold all over.

“You feel sick? Like your stomach’s turning?”

You give a weak nod. “A… a little… Just feel weird. Like m'not in my body…”

“I know, sweetheart.” His voice was soft now, but steady. “First thing—get some water in you. Right now. Can you do that?”

You nodded again, fumbling toward the nightstand, finally finding the bottle by feel. The moment the cold water hit your tongue, your throat relaxed a little. You chugged it like a man in a desert, gasping for air by the end like you’d just been saved from drowning. The cool liquid running down your throat soothes the aching of your vocal chords, made you feel just a bit better.

“Good job,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice. “Now—music. You got anything playing? Somethin' that'll relax you?"

You blinked up at the TV screen, realizing the random music was only making things worse. Your hand shook as you reached for the remote, scrolling until you found it—the playlist Matt made you. All his favorites. You’d saved it weeks ago without telling him.

“I’m… I’m playing your playlist…” you said, voice barely a whisper.

“Good girl,” he praised, and your heart fluttered despite everything. “You’re doin’ great. Just ride it out now. Let the music take over a little.”

Your breathing starts to even out, just a bit, the soft tones of a Mac Miller track filling the space around you like a warm blanket. You sinks deeper into the bed, feeling the edges of your panic dull just enough to think clearly again. You still felt high, but the spinning was starting to slow, just enough to hold onto.

“I still got a few stops to make,” Matt says, the sound of a car door slamming in the background. “But I’ll come check on you soon, alright?”

“You promise?” You say.

Matt chuckles to himself. “Promise, sweetheart.”

smoke responsibly !

[iheartcake123]

gotak x f!reader

a/n: just finishing watch S2 and the ending?!?!

warnings: spoilers from whc2

Masterlist

it had been a few months since you first met si-eun’ other friends. they all had very different personalities yet, somehow it worked. they accepted you with open arms when si-eun finally introduced you to them.

gotak in particular was very welcoming with you. he was charming, a little reckless, and he had this way of making everything feel like a game. when you’d hang out both you and si-eun had often rolled your eyes at his teasing—he was relentless. he constantly flirted with you in the most absurd ways and you soon grew accustomed to the way gotak’ attention drifted to you like some kind of magnetic force whenever when you were around.

at first, you’d tried to shut him down politely, then firmly, and eventually, you just ignored him.his playful winks and over-the-top comments weren’t even enough to faze you anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t find him attractive. he was. but you had no interest in getting caught up within his antics. however, some days proved harder than others.

"you’re so cold” gotak teased, his voice dripping with amusement “you know one of these days, you're gonna fall for me, and i’ll be there to remind you i was right from the beginning”

“keep dreaming” you rolled your eyes, not wanting to humour him.

“trust me i will” he reached an arm to poke your side. this was something you always hated so you responded with an elbow into his stomach.

he let out an amused laugh as he was satisfied that he’d pushed your buttons.

it was a regular evening when everything changed. you and si-eun were walking together in a comfortable silence. you had an airpod in your ear and you both began to cross the road.

you hadn’t noticed until you were on the other side of the road but si-eun was no longer beside you. when you turned to see where he was, he was still in the middle of the road.

phone upto his ear, his facial expression unreadable and within a second it happened. the sound of a truck beeping and then a loud sickening thud followed.

your chest tightened and the world seemed to slow down in a rush of adrenaline. your eyes widened as si-eun laid on the floor unconscious.

he’d been hit by a truck.

“si-eun! stay with me, you’re going to be okay” you yelled as you ran into the road towards his body. you then crouched down beside him as you called for an ambulance.

it felt like hours before they arrived and then you were in the hospital waiting room. it was cold,sterile and suffocating. you held your hoodie around yourself trying to hold it all together. you felt numb.

your hands were shaky as you called jun-tae, you mentioned that something had happened to si-eun and you knew he would pass along the message and your phone soon flooded with messages from your friends saying they were on their way.

the minutes of waiting felt like hours, each minute more agonizing than the last. you’de barely registered the footsteps approaching before you heard the familiar voice of gotak.

“y/n, what happened?” his tone was a lot sharper than usual, his usual teasing replaced by genuine concern.

you head immediately shot up at his voice and you didn’t know how to answer him. your lip quivered as you felt your throat tightening.

you wanted to speak but it’s like the words were trapped inside your throat. gotak noticed this and he took a step closer. concern washed on his face.

“it’s ok, take your time” his voice was soft and tears brimmed your eyes as you looked at him.

“si-eun, he-” you tried speaking but instead burst into tears.

gotak instinctively wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. his hug was protective, warm and almost as if he was trying to shield you from everything. your body stiffened at first but as soon as you felt yourself relax, you then immediately let it all out, unable to stay strong any longer.

his chin rested a top of your head and he didn’t at any point let go.

“it’s okay, im here” his voice was low but comforting “you don’t have to go through this alone”

you remained in his arms for a few minutes more and when you finally calmed down, you slowly pulled away but gotak was hesitant to let you go.

“you’re strong and si-eun. he’ll get through this, ok?” the softness in his voice was something you’d never heard before. it made tour heart ache in ways you least expected.

gotak, who never usually took anything seriously was here and you were now seeing him in a completely different light. he wasn’t just the guy who teased you relentlessly; he was someone who cared, deeply, in his own way.

thenext few days were a blur. you spent most of your time at the hospital, waiting for any sign of improvement from si-eun. gotak was always there, sometimes by your side, sometimes just quietly sitting across the room, his presence comforting regardless.

but you then started to notice the subtle changes in him—the way he no longer flirted with you, the way he would reach out with a soft touch or offer quiet words of support when you needed them most.

hewas there, not as the guy who teased you, but as someone who understood the gravity of the situation. who understood what you currently needed.

one evening, as you sat in the hospital’s waiting area, gotak approached you, looking unusually serious. he stood in front of you for a moment, then hesitated before sitting beside you.

“i’ve been thinking a lot, you know?” he began, his voice uncertain “about everything.”

you glanced at him, surprised by his tone.

“i know i’ve been… an idiot. flirting, teasing you all the time. i guess i thought it was just fun, you know? seeing how riled up you’d get sometimes” he then paused, running a hand through his hair “but, honestly, i don’t want to just be some joke anymore. i want to be here for you. i just don’t know how else to say it.”

your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, realizing he was being completely genuine.

“gotak” you whispered, your voice barely audible “what are you saying?”

he shifted closer, his eyes softening “i’m saying i care about you, more than just as friends. i want to be with you in any way you want me. whether it’s a friend or more..”

you didn’t know what to say at first. everything inside you felt tangled, emotions running high. you had seen this side of gotak, but you hadn’t expected it to come out this way.

“you’ve been nothing but amazing to me, you make me feel so cared for and i care for you too” your voice was shaky.

a silence then fell between you both, the weight of your words hanging in the air. gotak then smiled—a genuine, soft smile. he reached out, his hand brushing against yours.

your heart beating fast.

in that moment, everything changed.

as the days passed and si-eun recovered, gotak and you found something new in each other. something more than what had been there before. the teasing and flirtation remained but was overtaken by something deeper, something real.

one evening after a long day, gotak finally leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss. his hands cupped your face as he pulled you in closer. you didn’t resist, instead you melted into the kiss, savouring the moment.

when he pulled back, he smiled, his eyes soft with sincerity which cause you to grin aswell.

“i’ve fallen for you” he confessed “more than i thought i ever could”

“me too” you admitted and he leaned his forehead onto yours and you both linked your fingers together.

“i told you so” the seriousness in his voice disappeared and his usual teasing tone returned “i was right from the beginning”

you let out a laugh, gently shaking your head “whatever”

you playfully rolled your eyes and pulled back from him dramatically to try and make a point but gotak pulled you back in.

“go on, admit it” he smirked and you couldn’t stop smiling.

you really had fallen for gotak.

hard.

[lyn31]

Your Touch

Summary

A lighthearted yet intimate experiment in withholding touch backfires when Zayne proves just how much he’s come to crave your affection—leading to a playful battle neither of you really mind losing.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader College AU, fluff, kiss, I got distracted again (suppose to go up the same time as on ao3) but hey here it is!

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You and Zayne are not the type of couple that does PDA. Maybe some light touches here and there, sharing food—things you'd do with a friend. But in private? Neither of you hold back.

You’re always the one reaching for him first. Whether it’s poking his cheek to get his attention, linking your pinky with his when you’re sitting close, or running your fingers through his hair when he’s studying—it’s just natural. And even if Zayne doesn’t initiate as often, he never pulls away. If anything, he leans into it.

You’ve noticed the way his shoulders drop when you absently run your fingers down his back, how he subtly tilts his head into your hand when you play with his hair. The rare times you pull away too soon, he gives you that barely-there frown, the one only you would recognize as sulking.

Which is why, when you come across a trend online—

Stop touching them for a day and see how your partner reacts!

—you just have to try it.

You expect Zayne to notice quickly. Maybe even call you out immediately. But what you don’t expect is how quiet he gets.

You’re in his dorm, sprawled on his bed while he sits at his desk, flipping through his notes. It’s the usual scene—you talking, he half-listening, occasionally humming in response or throwing in a deadpan remark when you get too ridiculous.

“—and I’m just saying, if I were a medieval queen, I’d absolutely have a secret escape tunnel. None of that ‘trapped in a tower’ nonsense.”

Zayne barely glances up. “You’d get lost in the tunnels within five minutes.”

You gasp, placing a dramatic hand on your chest. “Excuse me?”

“Excused.”

Normally, this would be the part where you reach over and flick his forehead. Or poke his cheek. Or, if you’re feeling particularly clingy, lean onto his shoulder despite his halfhearted protests. But today, you simply huff and fold your arms, keeping your hands firmly to yourself.

Zayne’s pen stills on the page.

It’s subtle at first. His gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to his notes. A few minutes later, he shifts in his chair, glancing at your hand when you gesture—but you don’t reach for him. He rolls his pen between his fingers.

Another few moments pass. You keep talking, but you catch the way his shoulders rise, then drop, like he’s suppressing the urge to fidget. His fingers tap against the desk. Then stop. Tap again. Stop.

Then comes the first glance.

Then another.

By the fifth one, it’s not subtle anymore.

You bite your lip, fighting back a smile. Oh, this is getting good.

Feigning innocence, you turn to him. He’s still sitting at his desk, but at this point, he’s fully facing you, elbow resting on the armrest, fingers tapping idly against his knee.

“What?” You keep your tone neutral.

Zayne studies you for a moment, his usual unreadable expression giving way to something more thoughtful. Then, with a quiet sigh, he pushes himself up from his chair and moves to the bed beside you. He doesn’t touch you—not yet—but there’s a crease between his brows, his lips pressed together like he’s working through a puzzle.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re mad at me or not,” he says. “But I can’t remember anything I did that might’ve upset you.”

Oh. Oh no. He looks genuinely concerned. For a second, guilt flickers in your chest.

You blink, forcing your expression to stay smooth. “Of course I’m not mad. Why would you think that?”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers to your hands—resting neatly at your sides instead of reaching for him like they normally would.

And then, wordlessly, he shifts.

The mattress dips as he leans in, his head lowering until it rests against your lap. The movement is so natural, so easy, like it’s something he doesn’t even think twice about.

Your fingers twitch against the sheets. Stay strong.

“Oh? What’s this?” you tease, biting back a grin. “Does my boyfriend need attention?”

He frowns at you. Then, as if deciding he’s not getting enough from just lying there, his arm loops around your waist, and he buries his face against your stomach instead. His hold on you is loose, but there’s something unmistakably stubborn about the way he presses closer.

You hear a muffled murmur against your sweater.

“Hm? What was that?”

He lifts his head just enough to look at you, brows drawing together slightly. His grip around your waist doesn’t loosen. “If you’re not mad… then what is it?”

Oh no. He’s pouting. Well, technically, no—but for Zayne, this is as close to pouting as it gets.

You inhale sharply. Don’t laugh. Don’t break.

This would be a great time to come clean. You should just tell him. But he’s still clinging to you, half-curled into your lap, waiting for an answer with a look that’s entirely too cute for his own good.

So instead, you tilt your head, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

His gaze sharpens, suspicion flickering across his face. His grip around you tightens slightly before, without hesitation, he reaches for your hand, takes it, and places it firmly on his head.

You gape at him. Excuse me?

His fingers linger against yours, his touch slow, deliberate. He even strokes your palm once—almost absentmindedly, almost like a silent plea—before murmuring, “You’ve been avoiding touching me.”

Okay. Definitely time to tell him now.

…But.

Wouldn’t it be a waste not to enjoy this just a little longer?

So instead of confessing, you slowly run your fingers through his hair, reveling in the way he immediately leans into your touch.

“Did I?”

His eyes snap open. His body tenses for a second before he abruptly pushes himself up, face now inches from yours. His cool breath fans against your skin, his nose brushing yours.

His gaze drops to your lips for just a second before flicking back up. His fingers flex slightly where they rest on your waist, like he’s suppressing the urge to just pull you right away.

“You’re playing a game,” he says flatly.

Your grin slips out before you can stop it. Your hands find his shoulders, playing with the fabric of his shirt.

“If I say I did,” you hum, “what are you gonna do about it?”

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. “Then I suppose it’s game over.”

“What—” You notice the way his fingers flex against your waist, his eyes dip to your lips, lingering there just a heartbeat longer than before. Your breath catches. “Wait—are you—”

He moves before you can finish. His lips crash against yours, stealing the rest of your sentence, the air between you evaporating in an instant. His hand on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against him, while the other cups your cheek, tilting your head just right. The kiss is firm at first—decisive, like he’s making a point—but it softens as he deepens it, his lips moving against yours in a slow, measured rhythm that makes your breath hitch.

You don’t even realize you’re sinking back until your shoulders meet the mattress. He follows without hesitation, pressing into you, his weight grounding, his fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head and kisses you deeper. The heat of it curls low in your stomach, leaving you dizzy, breathless—your hands gripping his arms, unsure if you’re holding on or pulling him closer.

By the time he pulls away, you’re both panting, your chest rising and falling in sync with his. His forehead rests against yours, his thumb grazing your jaw in slow, absentminded strokes.

“I thought you hated losing,” you manage, your voice slightly hoarse.

Zayne exhales. “It’s your game over, not mine,” his thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. His voice is even, but there’s something undeniably satisfied in the way he says it.

You frown. “That doesn’t make sense—”

He cuts you off with another kiss. It’s brief this time, but no less deliberate.

You try again. "But that’s not even how—"

Only to get cut off with another kiss. “Mm, your loss,” he murmurs against your lips, punctuating each word with another quick kiss.

You blink, still a little dazed. Okay, well. This is very cute.

You suppose one loss is fine.

Grinning, you loop your arms around his neck, giggling between his kisses. He hums in response, the sound vibrating against your lips as he presses a few more slow, deliberate pecks to your mouth, like he’s savoring his victory. You didn’t expect this reaction, but honestly? It was absolutely worth it.

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Notes

Fluff fest. this week so far ahahahaha but I mean how can I not?

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: College AU list ✨

[radiance1]

A silly idea based off of this post of mine and one made by @puppetmaster13u

Danny gets summoned, which is something he rather much hates yet as the new Prince of All Ghosts he is incapable of ignoring a summons unless he is actually stopped from doing so in a way that is unavoidable.

Like how the Ghost King was trapped in forever sleep.

Danny doesn't want to experience forever sleep just to avoid summoning, however.

It doesn't exactly help that, in the process of being transferred, the Infinite Realms dresses him up in clothes that, yes, befit his station of royalty (that he didn't ask for) and no he is not going to question how the infinite managed to get said clothes.

At least they're comfortable and he doesn't have to have the embarrassment of showing up in his pjs.

And it was at, said summons, that Danny had rather unintentionally fallen in love with someone who looked to be a age. A sacrifice for (which Danny was still new why in the infinite do they think he wants sacrifices???) the ritual to summon the Ghost Prince in exchange for a favor of some sort.

Danny, obviously, did not do that.

The Infinite Realms, of course, having tagged along knew exactly what Danny was feeling. Their little blorbo had developed a crush! A crush!

So of course, as any good higher being that favors one their special little guys, they try to make more chances for them to meet by interrupting various other summons because yea it can just do that now that it was given the incentive to do so.

Danny is both mortified, annoyed, and the teeniest tiniest bit thankful.

Also why is this kid always being captured by cults????

---

Meanwhile, with Billy.

He thinks an interdimensional Ghost or some sort of Godling-? Has fallen in love with him, so much so that he interrupts any of the times that Billy has been used for a sacrifice.

Which has been getting increasingly more often, as of late, and he's vaguely concerned on why that is.

If only the Gods in his head would stop chanting for him to be more proactive instead of a Damsel in Distress when he's caught the interest of the High Prince of the Infinite.

(I genuinely can't remember or just don't know if he can only hear it as Shazam, so if that is indeed the case then just imagine they keep bugging him when he's Shazam-ed)

No he is not going to try and kidnap him-!

[kisseobie]

more thoughts on the size training PLEASE

p1harmony and size training

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni), slight dacryphilia, tummy bulge

a/n: vivienne bff ilysm and i have seen u so many times in my inbox and coincedentally haven’t gotten to any of them except this one yet .. i promise i will answer those i’m not ignoring u i just take a while to get to everything 😭 anyways here u are 🤭

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ keeho

lovesss working out just to send you “progress photos”, which are actually just thirst traps of him that he knows rile you up every time without fail. you’ve never been quiet about how much you love when kyo shows off his muscles and just how big he is compared to you. when the two of you are intimate, he can never fit himself inside you without prepping you an hour beforehand with his fingers and tongue. the sight of kyo, hunched over and pumping three fingers into your heat to get you ready for him is certainly a pretty one. his favorite part of size training his girl is how you dig your fingernails into his bicep when he’s first sliding his length in, leaving bruised crescent moons on his skin as you try to breathe and take his entire girth, inch by inch. praises you for being such a good girl, for fitting his big cock into your tiny cunny, it comes off so condescending though that you can’t help but tear up in humiliation :(

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ theo

is aware that he’s much taller than you, but doesn’t full process how that’ll affect your dynamic in the bedroom until you’re actually naked in front of him, looking a bit overwhelmed by the size of the head of his dick alone. size training with yangie is so sweet and gentle, he’s reassuring you each and every time that he doesn’t have to fuck you if you aren’t comfortable, that he can pleasure you in other ways, but you’re always determined to take him in entirely. definitely eats you out a few times before he even attempts to thrust into you, gets you relaxed and dumbs you out with his tongue so you’ll take him easier. is obsessed with teasing you, rubs his cockhead up and down your folds without putting it in, and only gives in when you’re pleading for it with fat tears and loud whines. despite his teasing, he’s the most gentle, always sets a pretty pillow underneath your hips to keep you comfy <3

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ jiung

gets such an ego boost when you tell him it won’t fit. lovessss fingering you relentlessly while reassuring you, “see? don’t worry angel, it’ll fit” as you start to melt into his fingers. he manhandles you with ease, lets you lay across your sheets like the perfect pillow princess you are as he works his tip into your heat. fucks you with just the tip for a while, wanting to hear you beg for him to go all the way in. when you get impatient, he shuts you up by filling you all the way up, cocky smile adorning his face as he pumps into you. doesn’t verbally praise, but he holds your hand and kisses your cheeks as he continues his pace, loving the little hitches in your breaths as a result. i think ji is also very adamant on using safe words, especially when he knows it’s a bit difficult to fit himself in your heat. just wants his girl to be comfortable, cares a lot more about your pleasure than his at the end of the day :P

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ intak

has a big dick and doesn’t know it! doesn’t even really get it when he’s pouncing on you for the first time, wants to slam home as soon as he possibly can but then you gently remind him that he has to prep you first, and of course he’s giving you those puppy eyes and allowing you to guide him in doing so. fingers you so carefully, is afraid you’ll shatter like a porcelain doll hitting concrete. always has this cute focused expression on his face, almost as if you’re training him instead. once you give him the green light to fuck you, he’s constantly asking you “s this okay?”, and his genuine concern makes you swoon. once he finally sheathes his cock inside your gummy walls, he’s trembling with pleasure, but holds back until you give him the signal that he can start to move his hips. just so careful each and every time :(

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ soul

god i just know shota has the prettiest dick, so thick and veiny that it makes you salivate each time you see it. every time the pair of you fuck, you’re always left sore in the morning.. something your boyfriend makes up for with sweet kisses and hushed praises. size training with sho would be heavenly. he’s magic with his fingers, always knows when to add another digit, how quick to pump, when to circle your clit. soul would be very thorough in terms of foreplay, mostly because he loves to see you fall apart just with his hands. eventually, your boyfriend manages to fit his cock into your cunny, thrusting just slightly enough to stimulate you both, but not enough to pain you. just like intak, you would have to be the one to convince him to move, to which soul eagerly complies.

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ jongseob

ugh i can’t stop thinking about the recent photobook shoot with nerdy seob and his glasses :( can you imagine your boyfriend jongseob trying to work up the courage to ask you, his pretty girlfriend, to have sex with him? he’d even lamely tell you he did his research, read a lot of articles written by women on how to properly pleasure a girl. you’d tease him for it, sure, but when he’d drop his pants you’d be rendered speechless, shamefully ogling his dick, oozing with precum and standing tall at your attention. jongseob would be so selfless too, would ignore his painful hard on to prod at your hole with his tongue, eating you out for what seems like hours on end, proving that his “research” was in fact, very successful. when he finally starts to ease himself into you, your eyes are rolling back to your skull at the welcomed stretch, and it definitely inflates his ego a bit. fucks into you so deeply that you can see the bulge of his length pressing against your tummy :(

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ

[thebibliosphere]

Wait, is Jason in Gotham Knights body horror? Because it doesn't feel like his body even tho he's controlling it? (He died, he came back, it's not the same and never will be)

Or is it more analogous to puberty and feeling like you don't know anything about your body anymore?

Just having thoughts about that boy again

I think Jason in Gotham Knights is very much connected with his physical body. It's his biggest weapon, possibly more so than his guns, given his lasting connection to the Lazarus Pit and the power it gives him.

His backstory talks about building himself up to peak physical condition into the absolute unit he is now, and you can either see that as someone trying to reconnect with their physical self or someone vowing never to be small or weak again.

I tend to think of it as both. It's a reclamation of his physical form but also a transformation into something bigger and stronger that ensures he's the scariest, meanest-looking mother fucker in the room. Basically someone you can't underestimate as a threat.

(Try not to think too hard about the fact that he now largely resembles Bruce in stature, that he is now the group's heavy hitter, the most menacing and the most likely to strike fear into the heart of his opponents, and that Jason molded himself into the person he needed to be rescued by as a child. Don't do it. Do not. I am normal about this.)

But he obviously struggles with feeling present mentally sometimes.

You'll see him zoning out occasionally, touching the J-shaped scar on his face before violently shaking himself back into the present.

He has panic attacks while playing a dance video game with a coffin in it—a coffin his character becomes trapped in because he's not moving fast enough. (hello, trauma)

He's angry all the time and so relieved when Barbra expresses her own rage at something because, yes, finally, someone else is letting their emotions out instead of bottling it up (Dick).

His emails are littered with orders for self-help books, emails from his therapist moving his sessions around, and concerned messages from his friends (Roy comes to mind) saying if he needs to get out of Gotham, they'll make it happen.

Alfred holding him while he sobs over losing Bruce still breaks me every time. I have to pause the game and walk around my house until I feel normal again.

And then there's the cut scene where Dick asks, "Hey, remember that time we all [insert funny thing here]," and Jason admits, somewhat angrily, that no, he doesn't because Lazarus took entire swaths of memories from him and he hates how he can't connect with people the way he used to and he hates the way they all look at him (the way Dick is looking at him now) when he admits he doesn't remember something they clearly loved about the old him: the version of him who didn't have volatile mood swings or made people flinch when he did something as mundane as handle a kitchen knife -- the undead monster he came back as*.

The fact that Dick then contrives to recreate this memory so Jason can be included in a newer version of it -- while also giving him what is arguably a weapon -- fucks me up every time. Dick just yeets a kitchen knife at him, trusting that Jason will catch it, and then just steamrolls over Jason's rightful 'what the fuck' expression with "Hey, we're making food. Get dicing."

And Jason knows what they're all doing. He's aware of it, and he gets the teeniest, tiniest smile before smothering it out. Except he can't quite. He's still smiling as he chops the vegetables. And yes, they're all hopeless at cooking compared to him, and he knows he's going to end up taking over, but that's okay. Because this is for him. He gets to control it.

And that's how Jason gets to make a new memory, one where he is handed a weapon and gets to turn it into a genuine expression of nurturing and care.

Because he does care about them. He wouldn't conspire with Dick to bake Barbara's favorite childhood cookies if he didn't. He wouldn't try so hard to be gentle with Tim triggering the shit out of him while he's struggling with his grief. He just doesn't always know how to express it because he doesn't always know what he's feeling.

Is his anger valid? Or is this Lazarus Pit Rage? Is he being overly sensitive because of his trauma, or is everyone else underreacting because of their trauma? (Should he sign them all up for therapy, quite probably, yes.)

So, you could perhaps argue that Jason experiences body horror in the sense that he doesn't remember all the pieces of who he used to be. (Speaking as someone with severe memory loss from medical trauma, it's certainly a type of horror.) But I don't think it's because he's detached from it physically or doesn't feel in control of his body. I think it's his mind that worries him.

His body he can control. It's his mind that still sparks green sometimes.

---

*Re the scene with Tim when Tim calls the Talons monsters. "What about me? Do you think I'm a monster?"

No, they don't.

But Jason does. And it scares him shitless.

[nylqnder]

𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘. | 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: while struggling with your mental health, quinn refuses to leave your side despite your attempts to push him away.

warnings: descriptions of mental illness, behavior and sentiments that resemble depression (although it's kind of vague), crying

word count: 1.26k

It had been a while since you were okay.

Life, recently, had felt like it was trying to suffocate you. The days blended together in a haze of obligations, stress, and an overwhelming sense of inertia. Each morning, the alarm clock was an unwelcome intruder, dragging you from restless sleep into a world that seemed to demand more from you than you could give.

It had been a while since you’d felt this way. And you couldn’t place what had given you this feeling. It was as if the vibrant colors of your world had faded to a dull gray, leaving you trapped in a monochrome existence. The laughter that once came easily now felt forced, a mere echo of genuine joy. Friends and family noticed the change, but their concerned inquiries only added to your burden, making you feel guilty for not being able to snap out of it. So deeper into the hole you fell.

You’d called out of work again, telling your boss you’d come down with the flu which gave you another couple of days to be alone. You’d pulled the covers back over you earlier that morning and found yourself in the same spot nearly fourteen hours later.

The hours stretched and warped in the dim light of your room, a cocoon of silence punctured only by the occasional hum of the refrigerator or the distant murmur of traffic outside. You felt like a ghost haunting your own life, present but not truly living. The motivation to move, to eat, to even turn on a light seemed beyond you. Instead, you lay there, paralyzed by a weight that pressed down on you, making even the smallest tasks feel insurmountable.

When Quinn knocked on the front door of your apartment, at a quarter to midnight, part of him wasn’t surprised to get no answer. It was possible you were asleep after all. However, Quinn knew you and he knew that you didn’t typically fall asleep until well after midnight. He pulled the set of keys you’d given to him for emergencies out of the pocket of his dress pants. He didn’t feel like he was violating your ‘emergencies only’ policy right now.

He knew that you weren’t doing well recently. He’d tried to give you some space, assuming that was what you wanted. But nothing changed. If anything it got worse. He tried to plan dates, but you let them fall through. He showed up at your apartment, but the ghost of you that seemingly replaced you pushed him away.

You then stopped showing up to his games. In two years of dating, you’d only missed a select few home games. And now, you hadn’t been to one in over two weeks. When Quinn heard that you didn’t show yet again, his worry hit a high. He left right after media was over to come check on you.

Quinn shoved the keys in the lock, pushing the door open and stepping inside. It was eerily quiet in your apartment, not even the sound of the television playing broke through. The glow of the city lights filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting long shadows across the room. Quinn’s heart pounded in his chest as he called out your name softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the oppressive silence. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, searching for any sign of movement, but the apartment seemed deserted.

He took a tentative step through the hall, his dress shoes squeaking against the wooden floor. “Hey,” he called out a bit louder, his voice tinged with concern. He made his way toward your bedroom, the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he found you buried under blankets, your unruly hair scattered on your pillows.

“Y/n?” Quinn asked, approaching your bed tentatively.

When he caught sight of your sunken face, his heart ached. The bags under your eyes were dark and heavy, accentuated by your pale skin. You were asleep and Quinn felt bad about waking you, but he wasn’t sure you had ate, let alone left your bed today.

He reached out, gently touching your shoulder. You stirred slightly but didn’t fully wake up. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Quinn.” His voice was soft and soothing, trying to coax you back to the present. Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused, taking a moment to recognize him.

“Quinn?” Your voice was hoarse, barely more than a croak. You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your mind. Seeing him standing there, his face etched with worry, brought a rush of emotions that you’d been trying to suppress.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’m here. I was worried about you.”

You scrambled to sit upright, rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I…”

“Hey, hey.” Quinn said softly. “There’s no need to apologize. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay… Which you’re clearly not.”

You shook your head, avoiding Quinn’s gaze. “No, I’m fine, really.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you quickly turned your head, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. But he did see, and it broke his heart. He reached out, gently cupping your face and turning it back to him. “You don’t have to pretend. Not with me. Not ever.”

A familiar frustration bubbled up inside you. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You were a shell of yourself, the exact opposite of the person you were when he fell in love with you. Tears began to spill over despite your efforts to hold them back. The vulnerability you felt in Quinn's presence was both a comfort and a curse. You wanted to be strong, to show him that you could handle everything, but the truth was you felt like you were drowning, and you didn't know how to reach for help. It was just easier to keep him at arm's length while you sorted shit out.

“Quinn… please…I’m fine.” you said softly, pushing his hand away from your face. “So just… go.”

Quinn shook his head, knowing you were going to push back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Quinn, please, I just need to be alone,” you say.

“No,” he said firmly. “You don’t need to be alone, you just think you do.”

You quickly wiped away the tears that dripped down your cheeks, hating how vulnerable you felt. “You don’t understand,” you replied, voice tinged with bitterness. “It’s just easier this way.”

“Easier for who?” Quinn asked gently. “Not for you. You're hurting yourself more by pushing everyone away.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The floodgates opened, and you began to cry, the pent-up emotions spilling out in a torrent of sobs. Quinn pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his heart breaking at the sound of your pain. He didn’t say anything, just held you, letting you cry until the sobs subsided into quiet sniffles.

When you finally pulled yourself from Quinn’s arms, your eyes were red and puffy. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch tender. “You’re going through a tough time. It happens to everyone, and it’s okay to not be okay. But you don’t have to do this alone. We’ll get through this together.”

[ablobwhowrites]

Thinking of the fic called Trapped in the past that I made

Here's the fic you'd wanna read it

Because what if Stephanie never found the clue. What if y/n's old villain decided to fully kill detective y/n so that y/n couldn't have anymore villains to fight and it was just them?

Just imagining how stressed the batfamily felt, even all the heros as the villains didn't get word of what happened yet. The batboys to, wondering were y/n was and if he could be hurt? They liked him, really they did as y/n was kind alike a second dad to them but more fun and who understood having hard times and comforted them even if y/n was freaked out by them, y/n still liked having them around and Grayson, he would kill the person who took y/n, his best friend, a partner in fighting crime, someone he genuinely concerned like a best friend who always hung out with him and never found him weird as y/n was weird too. If Grayson found out y/n was hurt, he would break the no kill rule. As simple as that as gothams prisons, the Gotham asylum wouldn't cut it for Grayson. No he wanted who ever did this, dead by his hands alone.

What if y/n's uncle Gordon found y/n instead of batman. Seeing his nephew cry out for him as he was like a second dad to y/n and helped y/n get there job but now seeing y/n hurt and trying to cling to life and thinking of what if Barbara his daughter saw her cousin like this as the two were so close as kids but then driving like a mad man to the hospital trying to tell y/n to hold on and he's going to get him help.

The fear gordon feels in the moments as y/n is rushed inside on a stretcher and him desperately following trying to keep his eye on his nephew y/n because of how scared he is to have y/n out of his sight for on second but inevitably was forced to wait outside in the lobby until then and him wondering what he was going to tell his wife, his daughter, the new of what happened to y/n but Gordon tries to clear his head of that his nephew is tough, hell once when y/n was little he punched his bully in the face because they went after his friends and that was in elementary. Oh how Gordon wanted to cry as he felt so powerless at that moment just wanting y/n to walk out like nothing, why did he send y/n on that mission. Why didn't Gordon try to stop him? Why his nephew?

Then the doctor comes out and says the surgery was a success and y/n was back to stable levels and was going to be okay. Gordon just hugs the doctor after hearing the news that his little nephew was safe, he was going to be okay and eventually was led into the room where y/n was, he wanted to cry seeing y/n covered in bandages IV bag attaches to him, oh how he wanted to comfort his nephew and wanted to take back the moment that y/n went out for that mission but all he could do was wait now. Wait till morning to talk to him, to tell him, he was sorry for sending y/n out there, for not protecting him but it could wait till morning. Y/n needed to rest, he was okay because his uncle is here to keep him safe again.

Just wanted to make more angst for detective y/n because I have been wanting to make more for this guy for a while. But yeah I might come out with some parent y/n and other stuff that isn't as sad but see you guys later!

[purinfelix]

oh my god academic rivals but with Franco?!?!? Plsplspls

ᯓ★

a/n: i will never pass an opportunity to write academic rivals BUT this is super super short just cus im trying to clear out my drafts - hope u enjoy anon!!

"You got question three wrong." Even though it comes from above you, you don't even have to look to know who it belongs to - you're fairly sure you'd recognise the annoying overconfidence in it anywhere.

"And how are you so sure about that Franco?" you huff, continuing to work on your assignment, refusing to entertain him.

"Because I handed mine in already, got full marks, and had a different answer to yours."

You pause, dropping your pen to turn and look him in the eye. He has one hand on the table beside you and the other on the back of your chair, effectively trapping you as he looks down at you with a mocking smirk.

"Want some help, sweetie?"

"Piss off, I'm fine," you spit, turning back around to your work trying your best to ignore how hot your face feels knowing he's so close.

"Well from the fact you also got questions five, nineteen and twenty-four wrong I'd beg to differ."

You're silent for just a moment, weighing up your options but before you realise it he's already pulling up the empty chair next to you, and scooting as close as physically possible.

As he begins to explain your mistakes and what formulas to use, you're surprised at the fact that he's shed his teasing tone and instead seems to genuinely want to help you. And maybe if you were less concerned with getting your assignment done you would've also caught a glimpse of the soft, almost endeared, gaze he watches you with.

taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[an-annyeoing-writer]

yandere!The8 x Reader: sleeping pills.

Part 1 of 2

Date of release: 23.04.2025

Word count: 3 260

Tags: yandere, angst, hurt & comfort (but I'm afraid the hurt might win)

Warnings (parts 1 & 2): mentions of kidnapping, minor violence, dr*gs, de*th & s*icide

Life was difficult as it came. That much you have learned long ago.

The weight of reality never got any lighter, instead swallowing and crushing you as the time went on, new problems and sources of stress and tension appearing faster than you could handle the already existent ones.

And eventually, you have found yourself in a dead end – where you could not go on any further, or maybe you could – but if you did, nothing would change, it would only get worse. Leaving behind one thing would mean another one coming up; resolving one issue meant neglecting all others and letting them pile up on top of each other and glare down at you with contempt.

Life was just difficult as it came.

Minghao, too, knew that better than anyone. Watching you succumb into that old tale was breaking his heart every day that he spent glancing at you across the desk. It relieved his own stress a little – pulled him away from his own job, distracted from his own fate.

“You want to hang out after work?”

His words seemed to have come out of nowhere, and your fingers froze above the keyboard, comprehending whether or not the question was directed at you in the first place.

Glancing up just a bit, you confirmed that the man’s eyes were fixated on your own, calm but with some underlying sadness that you thought only you could sense.

“Minghao…” You pursed your lips. “I’m sorry, I told you, it wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

He exhaled with mild annoyance.

“I just suggested to hang out. Don’t tell me you don’t want to know me anymore.”

Although he was exaggerating, the tone of his voice suggested that he was a bit frustrated with your reply.

And you weren’t entirely surprised – you also didn’t know how to handle things properly.

It’s been about half a year since the two of you shared a very short dating episode. It went… well. Too well even. You weren’t exactly fond of the idea of dating a coworker – but as the time went on, you found comfort and safety in the other’s embrace, and as he opened up to you, you discovered a new world of insights and warmth that was far beyond any other relationships, friendships, or even family relations that you’ve had in the past.

But all good things eventually come to an end. You’ve let your attention be taken away from daily matters, and before you knew it, your work performance dropped significantly, and all other things that you should have done in the meantime – any additional studies, family matters – got dropped and left behind. Realizing what was happening, you made the only reasonable choice: you cut ties with what was distracting you. Painfully, for the both of you.

Except it never got any better – it felt like you’ve sealed a small hole in your ship with a cotton pad, ignoring that it was getting ripped apart by the rocks that it coursed through. But you couldn’t back from the choice you’ve made back then. The two of you broke up on good terms – there was no other way, not when your office desks were literally opposite of each other – but it left a bitter taste and fear of falling into the trap of  happiness again.

“I didn’t mean it like that” you explained, wording things carefully to not make things any worse. “I planned a study session today, I don’t want to skip it.”

“What about tomorrow?” There was an ounce of desperation in his voice, but you pretended not to hear it.

You exhaled, realizing helplessness of your situation – you swore that if you could, you would have agreed.

“I have a doctor appointment.”

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice replaced all other emotions, and you were taken aback by that, you had to admit – it felt… genuine, honest.

You quickly shook your head.

“Just need to restock on vitamin D, over-the-counter is not as effective, or so I’ve heard” you shrugged.

He watched you silently for a few moments. You stared at your screen instead, pretending to be focused, although it was hard to get back to your workflow with his eyes piercing you so intensely.

“Can I at least treat you to a coffee?”

You glanced up.

“You don’t have to…”

“But I’d like to. Don’t be stubborn, I’m the one offering.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Fine.”

A few minutes at the café wouldn’t possibly harm your schedule that much.

You woke up not remembering the moment you went to sleep.

You felt somewhat rested, although your head hurt a little, and so did your tummy. A quick glance towards the nearby window confirmed that it was an early morning, the light entering through the curtains took beautiful hues of pink and orange.

But it was not your window, and neither your bed that you were laid in, and panic quickly crept in as you pushed yourself up into a seat, looking around frantically.

The place was not completely unfamiliar. In fact, you recognized it right away, although the design did change significantly, from increased amount of furniture, through tropical plants that covered most of the surfaces in an aesthetic way that soothed your nerves, to the books on the shelves and a painting on the wall, one that you instantly thought was beautiful, although you quickly tore your gaze away to focus on the problem at hand.

Why were you in Minghao’s guest room?

When did he find the time to refurnish it and for what reason even – you couldn’t tell. But there was a lot of thought behind it and you for a second wondered if it was maybe his own bedroom now.

But it didn’t matter because you were more concerned about the fact you woke up there. Such things weren’t supposed to happen. Whatever you’ve done last night, must have been a chain of poor decisions – if only you could remember them.

You finally stumbled to your feet, feeling slightly dizzy. It didn’t feel like a hungover, more like an early symptom of a cold, when your limbs felt like cotton for a split second – enough to have you almost falling back down. But you stood firmly, forcing yourself to walk forward. No answers waited here – you had to find your way outside.

As you made careful steps down the corridor, you realized that the rest of the place didn’t change much. It caused you a bit of sadness and sentiment to see these walls again, but you decided not to stop, until you finally reached the area that you heard some rustling coming from – and you very well remembered it to be Minghao’s bedroom.

You hesitated and, instead of opening the door, decided to knock a few times instead. The rustling stopped for a second before resuming in a hurried fashion, and seconds later the door opened, revealing a bit disheveled Minghao with his shirt not yet fully buttoned up. You bravely resisted the urge to ogle.

“Hi, I’m sorry, I don’t know how this happened, I’m sorry for coming here, I didn’t want to cause you any problems, I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I’ll leave right away” spilled out of your mouth all at once. Minghao watched you, slightly confused and unhurriedly buttoning his shirt up to his neck.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t cause any problems” he finally announced.

His voice was… calm. Too calm. Gone was yesterday’s frustration, as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. His hand reached and touched your forehead. You froze at the contact.

“Go back to your room, you have a temperature.”

“W-what?”

Turning around, the man reaching towards his blazer, starting to put it on. Realization hit you.

“O-oh shit, work.” You turned around on your heel and about to storm towards the exit – a bit too hurriedly, given you haven’t seen your bag ever since you woke up and you’d probably need his assistance finding that first.

But it didn’t matter. Minghao’s hand was suddenly on your arm and you were yanked back by his steel hold. You winced at the uncomfortable sensation in your joints.

“I told you to go back to your room.”

Something didn’t sit right here; his energy didn’t match your own at all, and it made you panic a little. Minghao was a man of empathy – it didn’t feel like him.

“Minghao, I’m sorry if what I’ve done confused you, but the status didn’t change.”

“Do you even remember what happened?”

He tilted his head backwards, looking down at you in slightly contemptuous manner.

You stuttered.

The truth was your memories were cut off not long past the end of your shift.

As promised, you decided to pick up a coffee, and Minghao suggested he will give you a ride home. You were too tired to say no, and so you were waiting for him in the comfiness of his car as he left to pick up the desired drinks for the two of you.

You remember drinking yours. Fast; your throat was so dry and you yearned for the relief and energy that it would provide.

Then, there was nothing. You didn’t remember changing your plans nor reaching Minghao’s place; you didn’t remember the road at all. Up until the morning, everything else was hidden behind a veil. Maybe you were a bit sick – with the temperature and all. But you certainly weren’t sick enough for amnesia to be a reasonable symptom.

“What happened?” you finally asked after a long break, realizing that no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to remember anything else.

Minghao let out a sigh. For once, it was filled with sympathy, but his lips were sealed, refusing to answer your question as he slowly shook his head.

“Go to your room.” His hold on your shoulder was still there and he walked onto the corridor, pulling you along and leading towards the place you woke up in. “Are you hungry? I have left you some snacks in the bedside counter, I’ll prepare something better when I’m back.”

“What?” You allowed him to lead you for just a few moments before yanking your arm out of his grasp and taking a step back. “What’s wrong with you today?!”

 Minghao watched you intently, patience clearly wearing thin.

“You really don’t get it?” You almost felt embarrassed by his scornful tone, as if he was insulting you for being unable to get things right.  “You are here because I brought you here” he announced dryly. His beautiful voice spoke every syllable with force, making it pierce through you like daggers, making sure to get the point across. “And you aren’t leaving.”

Grabbing your arm one more time, he forced you to follow, pushing you into the guest room despite your protests and standing in the door to block it. You shivered at the dark expression on his face when he looked you up and down, as if assessing your state. But your panicked expression must have shifted something in him, because his face relaxed a little.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you” he explained softly. “But you won’t leave this place. Not in the nearest future. I understand if you’re going to hate me now. But it won’t change anything.” He repositioned a little, finally tearing his gaze away from you. “Take some rest and think about it. Your body has been through a lot.”

“M-my body?” you uttered with a small voice, feeling a pang of terror arise in your stomach. “D-did you…”

Minghao’s eyebrows furrowed for a second before his eyes widened in realization.

“No, n-no, I would never. I gave you sleeping pills to get you here, not to take advantage of you.”

Maybe you didn’t have a good reason to trust anything he said now, but believing in the minimum of his decency was the only thing that kept you from spiraling into a panic attack. It still, however, made your mouth fall open in shock.

“Sleeping pills? That’s why…?”

He pressed his lips together.

“As I said, take some rest and think about it. I’ll come back after work.”

You were about to protest again, but Minghao stepped out of the room, closing the door behind himself. A telling click coming from the door lock made it more than clear that he, truthfully, wouldn’t give you any chances to leave this place on your own.

On the first day, in the evening, he only came in to bring you a meal.

Maybe he would have stayed longer, if only you were possible to talk to. But you fell into a hysteria and screamed at him until he had no choice but to leave you alone so that you could calm down without his presence to upset you further.

You banged your fists on the door until they got all red, yelling at him to come back and let you out.

Eventually, you ran out of strength and sat down against the wall, burying your face in your knees and sobbing quietly at your helplessness.

You couldn’t know that, but right outside of the door, Minghao listened to your voice, heart breaking but mind still strong. He knew this would happen, he expected you to react like this. It was a process that he prepared for long in advance.

He only repeated to himself that it’s all for your own good. You didn’t know that yet, but things would only get better from now on.

Five days.

It’s been five days since you were locked at Minghao’s place, and although at the beginning you swore to yourself that you would only try to get out – either by force or by talking him out of this madness – by the time the fifth day arrived you felt… different.

He didn’t visit you often. Not that he could – he spent most of his days out at work, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get past the lock in the door. The windows were secured too. His house seemed perfect for this plan, with your room facing a forest rather than the street, so even if you called out for help, nobody would hear.

There was a small bathroom adjacent to the guest room that you could use. He always prepared a fresh breakfast and dinner, and made sure you had some snacks available at all times. The closets were filled with clothes that you could change into, books on the shelves were chosen in accordance to your taste that he clearly knew very well, and the room interior had been designed to relax your senses.

So by the time the fifth day came, although you felt you should be putting up yet another fight, instead, when Minghao entered your room with a breakfast, you didn’t bother leaving the soft comfort of your duvets.

It seemed to have taken him aback, because instead of leaving the plate on the small table by the door, he stepped further, reaching your side and placing the meal down on the bedside counter.

He must have fought with himself for a few moments before finally deciding to sit down next to you.

You opened your eyes, glancing up at him. You haven’t been eating much of what he offered, still a bit suspicious of his newfound tendency to spike your foods, but you were tired of it by now, tired of fighting and struggling, tired of yet another thing that kept you up at night. Tired of thinking of all the things and problems that you would have to resolve once you were allowed to go back home.

Minghao seemed uncertain, too. You wondered if, after persisting long enough and refusing to give into his scheme, would he eventually give up on it and let you go home. Something in him seemed to die a little with every negative emotion that you shared, but through all of this, he seemed patient and understanding. You still couldn’t put it together in your head, how such a kind and thoughtful person was capable of even coming up with such an idea.

You stared for some time into the space in front of you, not yet feeling ready to meet his eyes and show that you were even aware of his presence, but Minghao’s were fixated on yours, gently inquiring.

“How are you feeling?” he finally spoke.

“Tired” you admitted without thinking.

“Mentally, or physically?”

Even though he had to ask, you felt that he already knew.

“Both, somewhat” you whispered, pulling the duvet up to your ears. “I can’t even sleep. I can’t stop thinking. I don’t know. This is so fucked up, but I’m just so tired of struggling with everything. No matter what I do, it will always end in a struggle.”

“Then let go.”

The three words resonated through you like the sound from a string plucked too hard.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked.

A part of you wished he would touch you in some way, maybe just put his hand on your shoulder so you would feel the comfort of his presence the same way it used to be those months ago.

“Of things that will happen if I disappear like that. What will happen to my life, to my career? Like, it won’t always be like this, you will eventually have to let me out. But what will I do then?” You shifted so that you were laying on your back instead, staring up at the fabric covering the top of your canopy bed. Minghao’s face remained in the corner of your vision. “Should I go to the police? And my apartment, I can’t pay rent like this, will I lose all my things? And what about my work experience, how will I explain the gap in my resume if I try to find a new one?” At the last one, Minghao let out a breathy laughter.

“When I told you to think about it, I didn’t mean for you to take this apart like this.” He finally stood up. “But, fine, these are valid concerns to have. But I wouldn’t tell you to let go if I didn’t know how to handle things” he spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. “I took care of more than you think. If there’s anything in particular you’re worried about, write it down. I can take care of it then, too.”

You let out a huff, sitting up. There was a deep frown on your face.

“But why would you do that? I still don’t know what’s your goal. But this” you vaguely gesticulated around yourself “this is called kidnapping. Kidnappers aren’t known to, you know, visit their victims’ houses to water their plants” you spoke sarcastically. Maybe your voice was a bit too harsh, but you were frustrated with the fact that things have never gotten officially cleared up. You hoped that it would maybe, just maybe urge Minghao to spill.

Minghao laughed softly again, as if the direct accusation didn’t impress him in the slightest.

“Give me a chance to prove myself to you” he finally said. “I need to go now, but let’s talk about it in the evening. Write it all down” he vaguely pointed towards a shelf that stored some notepads.

You stayed in your bed for the next hours that came, but your heart felt somewhat more at ease.

Maybe it would get better, after all.

Maybe…

Part 2

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . HOUSE OF BALLOONS!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ SITUATIONSHIP GETO SUGURU X F!READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW : extreme toxicity; possessiveness; stalking; relationship sabotage; obsession; suguru is CRAZY, bro is an actual mastermind; reader cheats on her bf w/ suguru; consensual recording; manipulation; reader is a bit dumb; pet names used are baby, dollface, minx, lovely, angel; smut; dry humping, throat fucking, throat bulging, fingering, ruined orgasms, breeding kink, baby trapping, a mix of degradation and praise, breath play, slight bondage, edging & overstimulation, dumbification, sado-madochism, pain play, branding (suguru puts a cigarette out on reader three times as a way of claiming), cervix fucking, sir kink, HINTS of somnophilia (brief description of suguru fucking reader while she’s asleep); dick drunk reader; suguru has a dick piercing; pregnancy.

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc : 8.3k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ guys this is actually so nasty and feral, im so so so sorry. this is based off that jjk men loyalty post and suguru was placed in the middle because he would situationship the FUCK out of you. and worse? i’d probably fall for it and do it too. so then i wrote an entire fucking fic. and i’m so so sorry because this is actually pure filth. i don’t know what happened to me guys… suguru is just actually so nghh

A SITUATIONSHIP WITH SUGURU GETO is essentally the same as signing a contract giving away the rest of your life. because once you entered it, you were no longer able to get out. it started sweet, of course. suguru was good to you, despite not being your boyfriend. maybe that was what caused the sources of your problems.

you wanted to date suguru and the both of you knew it. despite the fact that you acted like a couple — kissing, going out together, having sex, even saying that dreaded l-word — you two didn’t have an official relationship. and it genuinely drove you insane. especially when suguru got a little too close with girls, knowing your attachment to him.

you told yourself that you couldn’t really be mad because you weren’t dating. so, you started doing the same thing, expanding your options.

and suguru didn’t like that very much.

you two often had explosive arguments that either went one of two ways; one of you blocking the other and severing communication or the desperate confessions of love to keep each other around.

and when he gets blocked, it doesn’t take suguru long to contact you somehow or someway. whether it be following you on a different account, or going as far as showing up to your home, he gets to you again.

it’s an endless cycle that constantly leaves you overwhelmed and emotionally drained. the intense love you have for suguru is undeniable. it’s undeniable in the way you let him back, the way you willingly go back.

every time you hit that unblock button, your friends look at you with concern and express their disappointment, warning you that he isn't good for you.

and deep down, you know they're right. of course, you're aware of the potential harm and negative consequences. but can't they understand the depth of your emotions? you’re in love with him. over time, your friends gradually stop shaking their heads in disapproval. instead, they simply roll their eyes when his name is brought up in conversation. it’s as if they've given up on trying to convince you otherwise.

however, suguru soon reaches his final chance, when you find out he’s been fucking one of your friends. this time, there’s no argument. you’re swift, blocking every one of his socials you know, deleting & blocking his number. that was it. you were free.

a year passes by, and you’re sure you’ve moved on. you got a new boyfriend, who’s sweet, and so dedicated to you. suguru hasn’t tried to contact you, even though he’d never be able to. you move from your college dorm, to live with your devoted boyfriend, you get a new job at a local cafe. you’ve never been happier, and everything is going so good for you.

almost too good.

suguru is a dedicated man, which you had seemed to forget. the entire time you thought he had left you alone, that he too had moved on; well, you were wrong.

moving didn’t hide you from him, even if you thought it did. he eventually found out from one of your friends, and you. you may have blocked some of his instagram accounts, but not all.

you often posted the scenery of your new area. and your boyfriend. it wasn’t hard to pinpoint you from there. you also posted about working at a cafe. so he searched up the cafes in the area — it couldn’t be too far, because he knew you weren’t a fan of driving long distances.

it gave him three options.

three different cafes. so here’s how he found you; it really wasn’t hard. he put on a mask over his nose and mouth, tucked his long dark hair into his hoodie. he went to the first cafe, and he asked a simple question. “is y/n on the clock today? she’s the only one who makes my order correctly.”

from the first two, he got a, “y/n? we don’t have an employee by that name.”

but the third one, god it must’ve been luck. because when he asked, he got the most blissful answer.

“y/n? oh, she works from 8am - 2pm on saturdays and sundays, but she works from 2pm to 8pm on mondays, tuesdays and thursdays.”

that was so much more than he bargained for, but god was he ecstatic. she told him your schedule? that coworker must’ve had it out for you, or something. but who was he to question her and her helpfulness?

what he had to do was obvious from there. he began to frequent your job on the days you worked, however only when you had just left.

he kept it this way, until that faithful day.

it was his usual routine. he had came to the cafe on sunday, at 2:30pm. you should’ve been long gone by now, so he thought. but there you were, working the register, with a sweet smile on your face and a bedazzled name tag on your breast.

you’re even more beautiful in person, he realizes. those eye bags you used to have faded away, and your smile is bright. you’re as perfect as he left you. only problem? you allowed yourself to be stained by another man. but it was okay, suguru assumed — he’d clean you up.

he doesn’t hesitate to get in the line to buy something, even though it’s so rare when he does. he comes to the counter with eyes and shaky breaths, acting like he’s just as surprised to see you.

your eyes are as wide as saucers when you finally set on him. you didn’t see him immediately come through the door, so you didn’t see him for a while… until there were only two people in front of him in the line.

you were internally panicking and screaming, your heart beating so fast you thought it may crack one of your ribs . how did he find you? what does he want? and beyond that, how handsome he looked — however, you shoved these thoughts down. you had a boyfriend now, and you were never engaging with suguru again. simple as that.

“what’re you doing here?” he breathes out as he reaches the counter. you’re beyond shocked, eyes widening as you blink at him. “no, what are you doing here? i work here. you don’t even drink coffee.” and it’s true; in all your time together, suguru never touched a cup of coffee. he swallows, hard, and you wonder just exactly he’s thinking as he stares at you from underneath his thick lashes.

“i have… lately,” his voice is gentle, sad almost, “i come here daily for coffee. speaking of… can i get a large of straight black dark roast? with a dash of cream and sugar.” you nod and hastily go to make it. when you come back, he shifts, rocking side to side. “i want to apologize to you. for everything. can… can we talk when you get off?”

and you should’ve known better. you really should have. but you’re stupid enough to say yes.

he waits several hours for you; you tell him you’re working a double, and you’ll be closing the store. he doesn’t mind, it seems, especially when he helps you mop and clean, helping stack up chairs. it reminds you of how gentle suguru was with you. when it’s time to go, he questions, “you walk home?” when you nod, he scowls, obviously still slightly protective over you. it warms your heart, but you force it to freeze back over.

however, it remelts when he pushes you to the inside of the sidewalk, standing on the side closest to the street. “my boyfriend and i live around the block, so i just walk here and back. i never really get any trouble.” suguru hums; you’re setting that boundary early on.

i’ve moved on from you, you’re telling him subliminally, i’m with someone new. it’s funny that you think suguru cares.

the two of you are silent as you walk, and you find yourself questioning whether or not he’s going to apologize; or is he just using this opportunity to get close to you again? you get your answer when a few minutes later, he stops and turns to you.

“y/n,” his voice is husky and it’s cold enough that his exhalation of your name leaves a white mist, “i’m sorry, for everything. i was wrong to put you through those things. you’re such a sweet girl; you didn’t deserve it.” and a part of him means it, truly. he would’ve done things differently if he knew you were going to leave. “can we be friends? please?”

you feel the cold tears prick your eyes, and you nod, once, then twice. you sniff and whimper out a sweet, “yeah, suguru. we can be friends again.”

that’s your biggest mistake.

because now that you’ve allowed suguru in your life again, you’ve just given him the green light to do what he does best. spiral things into his control. he starts out with small things, starting with planting a seed of insecurity.

you had let him meet your boyfriend, at your boyfriend’s insistence, to prevent insecurity. his boyfriend knew all about suguru, so to say that he was a bit hostile was a bit of an understatement. suguru was the epitome of calm, all kind smiles towards your boyfriend. it was almost… embarrassing for you. your boyfriend was almost childish; when you cooked for the three, and your boyfriend set the table, he refused to get a plate for suguru. suguru took it in stride, however, only laughing it off. this was damn near perfect for suguru; he was going to lie, but your boyfriend was so fucking stupid, he basically laid out the soil for suguru’s seeds.

what’s worse was the fact that suguru is both taller and more muscular than your boyfriend; and whenever suguru stood and looked down at him, your boyfriend would jeer. later, your beloved expressed his slight inferiority. you did your best to reassure him, but anytime you mentioned suguru, he seemed to bristle. ‘it isn’t like that,’ you’d plead to him, with hands out, ‘we’re just becoming friends again, i swear!’

of course, you’d eventually go to tell suguru that you had to distance, in order to preserve your relationship.

he was understanding, yes, but not without a, “why doesn’t he trust you enough to let us be friends?” and maybe that stuck with you a bit. a week later, suguru drops off two plates of your favorite food. he says he was making it, and thought you’d enjoy the meal. he even brought a plate for your boyfriend. you’re ecstatic — as the meal isn’t one you often find in stores, and when you do, it isn’t cook to the fullest. however, while the two of you were … engaging, suguru learned to make it perfectly.

you’re all smiles and cheers, while your boyfriend is livid. suguru doesn’t overstay his welcome and departs with a smile and a nice goodbye for you both.

the argument ensues from there.

“i thought you cut him off?” your boyfriend asks you, his voice snappy and filled with anger. you raise your eyebrows, still holding the two plates in your hands as you move to the kitchen. you reply,”you didn’t ask me to. you told me to distance, and i did. me and suguru haven’t talked much at all since then.”

“then why is he dropping off food for you?” your boyfriend shoots back, almost immediately. you place the food on the counter and turn to him, feeling your irritation simply growing and growing. “for us, you mean,” you correct sassily, furrowing your eyebrows, “it would be different if the food was only for me. but there’s some for you too. he was being thoughtful.”

“why can’t you so obviously see that he’s a manipulative asshole?” your boyfriend yells as he throws his hands up, pacing around the couch. “how dim are you? he did it while you two were fucking around, and he’s doing it now! i don’t want you to be friends with him anymore.”

you’re bubbling over. so he’s calling you stupid now? you feel your irritation shift into anger instead. “you don’t get to tell me who i can and can’t be friends with because of your own fucking insecurities. you don’t get to do that shit, you don’t get to make something out of nothing. and most of all, you don’t get to throw my past experiences that i trusted you with into my fucking face.” you’re grabbing your food, and your coat simultaneously.

“wait, where are you going?” your boyfriend asks, his voice suddenly dropping from a yell to a concerned croon. your shoving your arm into a coat sleeve as you huff, “somewhere to cool off. you’ve pissed me off and now i don’t even want to be in this fucking house.”

your boyfriend wants to protest, but he doesn’t. he purses his lips, and he nods, before mumbling out a, “be safe. keep your location on, please?”

begrudgingly, you nod, before leaving.

of course, you end up at geto’s. you’re venting your frustrations as you eat the meal he prepared. it hadn’t even been an hour since he dropped off the food, and here you were. it’s how he knew that his plans were working, and god was he ecstatic. of course, he couldn’t seduce you right here and now, no. it’s much too early. he has to keep throwing the rock at the window, over and over. until it finally breaks.

this throw is only a crack in your window.

those arguments begin to happen more frequently, suguru’s large crack gives way to more and more little cracks, until you’re at your wits end. you’re not gonna break up with your boyfriend yet, but you’re starting to get aggravated. suguru figures it’s time for him to implement his plan.

you’re laying on his couch after an explosive argument between you and your boyfriend about geto seemingly “flirting” with you: suguru had bought tickets for the ballet for all three of you; your boyfriend refused to go, falling right into suguru’s trap. you were aggravated with him — he denied every opportunity to actually make sure no flirting would happen and denied. then got mad at you for enjoying yourself. but you wouldn’t allow that, tonight. you went to see the ballet with suguru, and honestly the two of you had a wonderful time.

but then, your dress had ripped so suguru held it together until the two of you got into the car. you had walked into the house, suguru shuffling behind you and your boyfriend went ballistic, claiming that suguru ripped it himself.

now, suguru didn’t even plan this one — but your boyfriend was just so good at being a little helper. while suguru watched the argument awkwardly, trying his best to ‘deescalate’ the argument, while intentionally making it worse. you ended up leaving with suguru, ripped dress and all.

now here you are, sitting on his couch, with tears streaming down your beautiful made-up face. suguru’s cooing to you through your distress, giving your back gentle rubs. “he’s such a dick, y/n,” suguru murmurs as you blubber out your frustrations, “i can’t believe he got so worked up… it’s starting to piss me off, too. i even bought a ticket for him to come with us.”

you let out a cry of agreement, going, “which was so nice of you! he complains about us being alone but never come when he’s invited! it’s so… so…!”

“hypocritical,” he finishes for you, pulling you to lean on his shoulder. you comply, even when his hand slides to rub at your hips. “i wasn’t the greatest, but… god, even i didn’t do you like that. didn’t he call you stupid or something a week ago? i actually don’t think i’ve ever done that.” he laughs it off like a joke, but watches your reaction carefully.

the words have you thinking back. no, suguru hadn’t ever called you stupid. when he started getting jealous, he never put you in situations to be jealous over. he was never childish like your boyfriend… your brows furrow and you pout, hesitantly nodding. suguru smiles; it’s working. he takes this a sign to keep talking.

“and i noticed that like… he barely posts you. like you have a highlight for him on insta, and he doesn’t have one for you,” he begins, continuing to caress your skin, before pulling a pack of his favorite cigarettes out of his pocket. “and i don’t mean to infringe on your relationship, y/n.. it’s just weird to me. considering that i had a highlight for you even when we weren’t dating.”

you pause, lightly leaning into suguru’s touch. he’s not wrong… in fact, he’s very right. your boyfriend always told you that he didn’t post you a lot because he didn’t want people in your relationship business. you had accepted it at the time, but now suguru’s words had you questioning.

“am i overstepping?” suguru asks gently, his hand still rubbing your hip, pulling you into him as he exhales cigarette smoke. his dark violet eyes focus on you, and you examine his features, like you used to do before.

his long hair is pulled into his trademark half-up half-down style. slim eyes looking down at you with an all too familiar glaze. his angular, perfect features that had to been crafted by god. he’s… he’s so much prettier… you curse yourself for even thinking it, but he’s so much prettier than your boyfriend. he licks his lips as he watches you watch him. his head tilts slightly.

“maybe your boyfriend wasn’t wrong, though,” he says, voice husky — it sends unwanted shivers down your spine. “maybe i haven’t been exactly appropriate to you. maybe i do want you back.”

you swallow hard, slight shock flooding you. you expected it but didn’t at the same time. even though all those times you vented and brought up how your boyfriend was convinced suguru wanted you, suguru never confirmed or denied. only soothed you.

you don’t know what to say, or how you feel but you know it’s wrong. “n-no, suguru,” you force yourself to say, “it’s wrong. a-and you already had a chance. so many chances.” your scooting away, but suguru is pulling you back to him.

his lips press against your ear as he whispers, “c’mon, baby… please? i learned my lesson. i can’t bare to see another man treat you like this, when i know… we both know… i have my problems, but i can treat you so much better.” you’re trying to pull away, but your body and your heart is too familiar with suguru. you ache, despite knowing that it’s wrong. it’s cheating.

“suguru, i-i can’t cheat..!” you whimper pathetically, and suddenly, he’s pushing you down onto the couch, sliding on top of you. you moan, as you feel him press against you, cursing yourself.

“there it is,” suguru hisses, lifting his cigarette to his wet lips again, “moaning just based off that? he hasn’t been fucking my girl right, now has he?”

“not your girl..!” you gasp as he presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your neck. you protest out of guilt, but god, you don’t stop him.

because just like he said, you both know. your boyfriend couldn’t, in no way, compared to suguru geto.

“not my girl?” suguru whispers as he kisses up your jawline, “you sure? because you’re gasping and whining out like you are. you’ve always been mine, y/n. you know you have. let me take care of you, baby. come back home.”

there’s an ache in your pussy, and you’re sure that it’s your sexual organ talking when you whine, “okay, suguru, j-just please… please fuck me.” the need you feel overwhelms the guilt as suguru presses his clothed dick against you.

you can feel him, pressing against you through your panties, and the squeal you let out makes suguru laugh. he’s sliding you up with one hand and into his lap. he hikes your dress up to your hips and you think he’s going to take you right then and there; but no. instead he presses you down against his crotch, forcing you to get off on the feeling of his covered dick simply pressing against you.

“s-suguru! c’mon, give me more, please!” you mewl as you grip his broad shoulders desperately. you watch as he lifts his cigarette to his lips. “nuh uh,” he says as he exhales, “you’re going to pay for leaving me for some bitch who can’t even fuck you right. ride me jus’ like this, y/n. and don’t stop until i say so.”

and unfortunately, you’re obedient and desperate for any shred of stimulation you can get. you began grinding your hips down against suguru through his slacks, his hardened dick rubbing against your pussy through your panties. you’re so wet that you begin to gush through the thin cotton of your panties, dripping onto suguru’s slacks in a puddle.

you don’t say anything however, yearning for the intense pleasure that suguru always gave you. that year away from suguru must’ve made you forget; nobody will ever fuck you as good as he does.

he watches as you clutch onto him, pathetically grinding and shaking your hips down onto your lap, whining as your panties rub against your clit just right. in a few minutes or so, you’re even ready to cum. suguru has your habits memorized when you were close, and that hasn’t changed.

you still tremble, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. your eyes cross a little and your back arches. suguru grins. oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?

“stop.”

he chuckles darkly, and when you don’t listen the first time, he pulls you off of him. you let out a mix of a sob and a moan, your face twisting into something pitiful. “suguru!” you wail, fat tears spilling over. “i was so fucking close! why would you do that?”

suguru gracefully puts you on the floor between his legs, laughing at your plight. “oh, i never said you’d cum, dollface. i just told you to do it. but it’s okay, my dumb girl. ‘m gonna reward you a different way.” he begins unbuttoning the slacks as you perch between his legs. he’s rolling the black pants down his thighs, along with his boxers and there it is.

his dick bounces free. it’s long, and has a nasty curve upwards. he’s thick too — scarily so. his tip is fat and a perfect round shape. it’s a dark tan, a few shades darker than his skin. and it’s decorated with a silver reverse prince albert piercing. precum slides out, a silky white color. you feel drool collect in your mouth as his dick hovers above you.

“you know what to do,” suguru tells you with an expectant look, his cigarette perched perfectly between his lips, “open your mouth and let me use you. uh huh, just like that lovely, stick out that tongue…” you do as he tells you, hands on his knees as you lean up; tongue out, eyes locked with suguru’s.

he slaps his dick on your tongue a few times, before he slides his length into your mouth. immediately, your lips enclose around him. his hand laces into your hair, using it as leverage to pull your head down his length. you gag fiercely around him, hands moving from his knees to his thighs, digging into his skin.

suguru smokes his cigarette with hazy eyes as he pushes your head down his dick, and back up. the noise your throat makes when his tip hits your uvula is wet and messy, and god does he love it.

your slobbing down his length, your spit trickling down his balls; your eyes are filled with tears, a few even spilling over. however, your plump lips stay wrapped around him. you suck your cheeks in and gaze up at him, submission coating your every movement. your tongue slides against the glands on his dick, making him let out a soft groan.

“take this dick down your throat just like that, whore, fuck,” he rasps to you, his movements becoming a little more aggressive, “did you suck on him like this? lookin’ up at me all pretty. bet you didn’t suck his dick like you needed it; didn’t show him how much of a fucking whore you are, hm?” he puts his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and then he slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “i think we should. is that okay?” as best as you can, you nod, still swallowing up his dick.

suguru is on his phone for a few seconds, before laughing out, “ha! he texted me. he wants me to bring you fuckin’ home. too bad; you’re already home, right, baby?” of course, you don’t answer. your mouth is too stuffed full of his dick. suguru gets rougher then. his original languid pace is discarded, and he begins to push and pull himself out of your mouth. his tip rams against your uvula, before sliding into your throat. you’re choking for air, sputtering. he’s fucking your throat so cruelly, there’s a bulge in your throat every time he sheaths himself in your mouth.

you try to pull in air through your nose, but it’s too hard to focus when suguru is pressing your face into his pelvis, his heady scent filling you and making you dizzy. or was that just the lack of oxygen? you realize that he’s recording your pathetic display. you’re a fucking mess, pussy drooling as he ruins you.

“shiiit, angel,” he curses, head thrown back, and his locks messy around his shoulders. his bottom lip between his teeth, “gonna cum. gonna cum in your mouth, and you’re gonna swallow every fuckin’ drop, understand?”

you swirl your tongue around him, letting him know you’re ready. his thrusts become reckless, before he spills his load inside of your mouth. his cum tastes nice, as always — it has a slightly bitter tang to it, but you take it in stride. as he slides his softened dick out of your mouth, you open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out; showing him his cum coating your mouth.

his phone captures it all.

“is this your girlfriend?” he taunts the camera, grabbing your cheeks and bringing your mouth closer to the phone as cum dribbles down your chin. “look at her. that’s my cum. this is my girl.” you swallow his cum then, and suguru lets out a coo of, “good slut.” before he’s ending the video and sending it.

as soon as he releases your face, you’re sucking in big breaths of air, coughing and sputtering and wiping your eyes from the tears. he rubs your head while you do so, letting out soft coos of reasurance.

he sits back for a second, sliding his dick back into his slacks, before telling you, “go to my room and get undressed. i’ll be there in a minute.” he watches you nod and scamper up, going up the stairs to his room, your hips swaying.

suguru picks up his put out cigarette as he watches your boyfriend trip out about the video, both of your phones dinging with notifications. he lets out a laugh.

suguru always gets what he wants eventually, especially you.

he’s getting up to follow behind you then, pulling off his tie in the process. suguru can feel his own desperation and need for you setting in. it had been a year and a few months; in that time, he didn’t engage much in sex and romantic relationships. none of them were you.

and even now, when he gets to his room and you’re sat on his bed, eyes soft and legs slightly spread as you wait for him, he knows.

none of them will ever be you.

suguru stares at you, almost unnervingly as he walks into the room, leaning against the wall. it makes you self-conscious, curling into yourself as you press your hands against your body to shield yourself.

“don’t.” suguru says, and he walks to you, grabbing your arms. “i need to see all of you.” before you could even respond, he’s wrapping his tie around your wrists.

“suguru?” you question gently as the black fabric wraps around your hands, keeping you bound. suguru shushes you, before picking you up and moving you to the top of the bed. “shh, lovely. i gotta fuck those thoughts of your ‘boyfriend’ out of you. so you’re gonna be a good whore and you’re gonna take it. understood?”

“yes sir,” you whisper as he lays you down, before his hands are spreading your thighs, to reveal your pretty pussy; soaked with your self-lubrication. you move your bound hands to cover yourself, but suguru knocks them away. “put your hands away, what’re you covering yourself for? i know your body like the back of my hand.”

and he’s right, so you try your best to relax. your tensity is immediately forgotten when he puts a finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles against it. you shiver and let out a dulcet moan, a lovely sing of, “suguru— mnngh, fuck..” he takes so much pride in the way he makes you feel, the way he makes you cry out and arch your back just due to his finger rubbing against your clit.

“shh, dollface,” suguru says as he sits between your legs, spreading them more. his large hand wraps around your calf to put your leg up. his finger trails from your clit to your sopping hole, before sliding two fingers inside.

the stretch from just two of suguru’s fingers had you letting out mellifluous moans, squirming in his hold. he held you still while he pushed his fingers inside of you until they were knuckle deep, thumb pressing against your clit.

suguru was slow and methodical with the way he fingered you; sliding his fingers out slowly just to thrust them back in a fast pace, fingertips curling against your warm, gummy walls. your slick was dripping down onto his palm as he rocked his finger into you.

you were his mess, letting out whines as his long, thick fingers scissored inside of you, pressing against your g-spot. “he couldn’t get you like this, now could he?” suguru asked as he pressed his fingers against your g-spot again, making you squeal. you didn’t answer at first, but when he added a third finger inside of you, hissing out, “fucking answer me.” you were quick to babble out, “no, sugu! no, no, no, he could never get me like this… only you, only you!”

suguru chuckles in satisfaction as he watches you struggle to hold on to the sheets with your bound wrists. “fuckin’ slut,” he muses, “cheating on your boyfriend like some fucking whore who can’t keep her legs closed.” he tuts, and shame floods through you; however, it’s eradicated by the way he curls his fingers against your g-spot, his quick but precise thrusting hitting it every time. your juices are all over his hand, sloppy noises echoing through the room. the way suguru looks at you has your heart beating in your fucking ovaries.

you’re close, euphoria is spreading through your body and your stomach is tightening. your pussy is contracting around suguru’s fingers as you whimper, “i’m sorry…! sorry for bein’ a slut, sir.”

“i forgive you,” he laughs a little bit, as your eyes roll back. “you’re my slut, of course. you’ll always belong to me; always be mine, no matter where you go.” right as your pussy begins to spasm around him, and your body begins to twitch, eyes rolling back again — he slides his fingers out of you.

the sob you let out is tremendous, bordering on a scream. suguru only watches as you sob, fat tears rolling down your already ruined face as you sob out different variations of ‘why?’ and ‘i wanted to cum!’ through your tears as you glare up at him. suguru only watches your pathetic, desperate display as he begins to fully undress. his eyebrow raised as he watches you, slightly smirking. you’re so cute, so desperate for him. he loves when you get like this.

by the time he’s fully naked, you’re facedown into the blankets, still whimpering, your sobs slowing. suguru wants to laugh, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. he crawls on the bed towards you, grabbing you and turning you over onto your back. you look up at him with teary eyes as he hovers above you. your bound hands reaches up, and you mange to press the back of your hand to his cheek. oh, how you missed this sight.

your hands sneak to his hair, and you pull out his ponytail. his hair falls around his shoulders, and he smiles at you; a genuine smile, and you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle. he leans down, sliding his lips against yours as his hand wraps around your throat loosely. suguru tastes like sweet cigarettes, like a mix of nicotine and love and sex. you don’t know how else to describe it.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you feverishly. you try your best to keep up with his insistent lips, as his tongue curls against the roof of your mouth.

“m-missed you more,” you rasped back against his lips.

you guys are pulling away occasionally to gaze at each other sweetly at his other hand trails down your body, caressing you wherever he can. he’s devouring your lips, hand slightly tightening on your neck. “love you, y/n,” he whispers, before continuing on like it was never said.

your heart pumps, and before you realize it, your lips are moving to say, “love you more, suguru,” you feel him grin into the kiss, and it becomes more desperate. it’s messy, the way he kisses you — the way he laps at your mouth and begs for more of you, all of you.

you can’t help but give.

his tip rubs against your hole, his piercing cold against your heat. on instinct, you let out a slight hiss at the feeling. he shushes you gently, as he pushes his hips forward slowly. the stretch of him has your head falling back, and your eyes rolling. your mouth falls open in an o, but you’re unable to make a noise, as if he’s snatched it out of you.

pain mixes with pure pleasure as he feeds your greedy cunt inch after inch of him. your body is trembling as you feel his piercing scratch your g-spot, making you gasp out, before said piercing is nudging your cervix. his curved dick has you going insane, hitting spots you forgot you had. above you, suguru is as much of a mess as you are.

he’s panting, irises so dilated that it’s just black with a ring of dark violet. one hand is gripping your hips, the other squeezing your throat as he spears you on his dick, soft moans escaping his lips. “fuck, angel,” he groaned as he threw his head back, “missed this pussy s’much. you’re taking me so well, look…” you manage to look down, watching as suguru pulls out of you before snapping his hips into yours.

the single, experimental thrust has you seeing stars. your tied hands are pushed above your head by suguru and he holds your hands, keeping them there. he pulls your legs to rest on his shoulders, and you blank. because now, the angle is different, and he’s pulling out and—

the rough thrust he blesses you with has you whimpering out his name, and that’s just the beginning. it doesn’t stop from there, no. he releases your hands, going to grip your throat again as he begins to stuff you full, slamming into you over and over.

that hand on your throat tightens just how you like it, until your noises are gasped and raspy, and there’s black spots swimming in your vision. this, paired with the way suguru pushes his hips into yours, bullying your pussy, has you teetering on the edge.

suguru knows this. he knows your body far too well, much more than you’d like. he knows that when he trails a hand down to your breasts, to pull and twist at your nipples like he does right now, it only shoves you closer to the edge. “don’t cum,” he whispers to you, “i didn’t even really get started, doll. don’t tell me you’re gonna cum just from a few strokes like this?” he smirks down at you, as his thrusts pause. the hand around your throat sliding up to rub his thumb on your bottom lip. the slight relief has you sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain your voice.

suguru decides to help you. he resumes his fierce thrusts, ripping a croaked cry of, “suguru—!” out of you. he picks up speed, jackhammering into you, and your nails dig into the palm of your hand as you’re forced to grip your own hands. he’s fucking you like this, and you’re supposed to not cum? his thrusts snatch the barely regained air out of your lungs, forcing more tears into your eyes.

your clit throbs painfully, your stomach tight as you try to hold on to the orgasm that is so close, too close to washing over you. “can’t control yourself?” suguru taunts from above you with a slight laugh, “fuck, baby, you’re a mess. got your fucking juices drippin’ down my balls,” he let out another chuckle, “pussy just clenched around me too. you like when i make fun of you, don’t you? masochistic cumwhore.” he grips your face, watching your tits bounce fiercely with every thrust.

“it huuuurts, sugu,” you whimper in an agonizingly sweet voice, “please let me cum, please, please, i can’t take it..! please, sir, it hurts…!”

“you love it when it hurts, though,” he tuts at you, his hair hanging in his face, and above you as he keeps up his thrusts. you let out a desperate, pained whine and he softens. just a little. but he doesn’t let you cum yet. instead, he leans down, lips pressed to your ear, “say you won’t leave me, ever again. say you won’t go anywhere.”

you know it’s a trap, but you fall into it anyways. “i won’t! i won’t leave you again, i promise, p-please just let me cum. i won’t go anywhere, i won’t ever have anyone else! j-just please…”

“cum.” suguru says one word, and immediately, you do. your eyes roll back, your body seizes, and your pussy clenches so impossibly tight around him that he can’t even pull out.

“shit—!” he hisses, hands gripping your hips. your clenching sends him over the edge too, his cum pumping into you. he didn’t mean to cum inside of you, no. but now it’s given him an idea. “fuckin’ minx, pussy clamped so hard on me, it had me cum in you,” he rasped as he pressed his lips to your sweaty skin.

you want to care, you really do. you want to panic and make a scene, but god, you don’t fucking care. the feeling of having his cum inside of you feels too good. you didn’t even let your boyfriend cum inside of you. should you be ashamed of yourself? you don’t know. actually, scratch that. once again, you don’t fucking care. all you can murmur is, “just… don’t do it again.”

you don’t care because your mind is foggy, the best kind of foggy. the orgasmic haze you’re in has you blissed out as you’re splayed across suguru’s bed.

suguru is marking you, biting, licking, sucking at your neck, collarbone and chest until they’re littered with reddish-purple hickeys, along with the hand print from him choking. if he’s going to bring you home to your boyfriend, he’s going to bring you back with a message. he grabs his cigarette and his lighter. he lights it, and takes a puff, before looking down at you. “this is gonna hurt,” he tells you, and you connect the dots immediately. you shake your head at him, but he shushes you. “be a good slut, and let me do this. don’t move, or it’s gonna hurt more.”

you go completely still, biting your lip as tears appear on your lash line. he softens when he sees you like this, scared. his hand presses against your face, trying to soothe you. even as he presses his cigarette against your collarbone. in order to distract you, he begins to thrust again. the pain and pleasure fight for dominance over your body, and you focus on the pleasure; even though the smell of your burning flesh fills the room. he puts out his cigarette two more times on your skin, before pressing kisses to the scars.

“i have to make sure that you, and everyone else, know that you belong to someone.” he whispers to you, still pressing kisses to the spot. you barely understand him though, because you feel like you’re fading. drowning in a sea of pleasure that he’s created.

his eyes lock on your bound hands, and the red mark around your wrists. he unties your hands, and you let out a garbled noise of relief. you watch as he presses kisses to your wrists, while still pumping his thick dick through your walls. you’re on the edge again, and suguru flicks at your clit, making you cum another time, your body twitching and your hands grabbing at his skin.

suguru’s close, too, and he knows what he has to do now.

suguru’s ideas are dangerous, but he finds it in him that he doesn’t care. he can’t trust your word that you’ll never leave. he can’t rely on just marking you. he’ll have to make sure that you’re unable to go anywhere, he’ll have to make sure that you need him.

he’ll have to knock you up.

it’s as simple as that. the simple idea of you swelled with his child has him reeling. suguru knows it’ll work. you don’t use birth control, because you don’t like the way it makes you gain weight, and you often forget to take the pill. and, he saw condoms and plan b’s at your house. it’s almost comical. suguru’s sure that you’d take his baby; but not your boyfriend’s.

the idea excites him even more and he grips your thighs, using his weight to push you into a mating press.

everything’s a blurry mess from there.

he’s slamming his hips into you with a regained fever, over and over and over. your heightened sensitivity is unable to take it, and you’re a squealing, whining mess with every move that he makes. your grasping at anything in your reach, mainly him and the bedsheets.

suguru folds you in half as he feels his own orgasm coming. “you’re gonna take every drop i give you, understand? don’t waste my cum, slut.” you want to tell him to wait, to cum on your stomach. but you don’t. you can barely think at all. instead, you lose control of your body as you cum right with him, as he shoots his load of thick cum straight to your womb.

you think he’s done, but no; instead he flips you over onto your hands and knees. he grips your throat from behind with both hands as he slams into you one more time. pumping and filling you, breeding you like some animal. you can barely moan anymore, animalistic whimpers and grunts escaping you instead as he slams his hips against the plush of your ass. suguru lets go of your neck to grip your hair, pushing your face into his pillows as you drool mindlessly, brain fucked away.

“helloooo…” he asks, teasing you purposely, “anyone in there?” when you don’t answer, he barks out a laugh. “look at you. gone stupid on my dick. i expected you to last longer. but no; you’re nothin’ but a dick hungry cumslut.” your body twitches and you make out some noise, resembling a ‘nooo…’, but suguru can’t tell.

“like it when i use you like this, hm? like it when i treat you like my fuckin’ cocksleeve, don’t you, y/n?” this time you manage to answer with a sweet ‘yes!’ and suguru smiles. you’re cumming again, sinking into the blankets with rasped moans. your throat is probably shredded from all the screaming you’ve been doing, but it’s okay.

it’s not long before suguru’s shooting his third load into you — or is it his fourth? you don’t remember, and neither does he.

you think it’s over, and maybe it is for approximately five to ten minutes. he gives both of you a break, and he presses kisses into your spine.

however, when he maneuvers you into a different position, you almost pass out. suguru isn’t done with you yet. the night continues like that, until the rosy fingers of dusk trickle into the room. he fucks you all fucking night, with a few breaks. he fucks you to sleep, and when you wake up, he’s still fucking you. a mix of your fluids soaks his bed, as he fucks load after load after load into you.

because suguru’s on a mission.

so when morning comes and he’s finally done using and abusing your body, he knows he’s succeeded. he scoops his cum off your thighs and stuffs it back into you, and right after he slides your panties back on, making sure it stays there.

soon after, when you wake again, he carries you to the bathroom, and he washes you up, still making sure that not too much of his cum slides out. he’s gentle with you, carrying you on his back around the house, driving you to get dunkin’ donuts for breakfast. the two of you completely ignore your phones, and the messages your boyfriend — well, ex-boyfriend left you two.

in fact, suguru does him one better. he arrives at the house with his arm around your waist and you nestled into his side. your ex-boyfriend is more than livid, more than furious, but he pales in comparison to suguru.

he screams at you, only once; because suguru is there to utter out a, “you yell at my girlfriend like that again, and i will fucking kill you.” and both you and your boyfriend are shocked. but suguru only nods to you, smiling gently as you hurry to collect everything you need. feminine products, clothes, jewelry. important things. anything you miss, suguru says you’ll get later. your boyfriend doesn’t utter a word after that single scream.

of course he texts you, ranging from angry to filled with despair. from “cheating fucking bitch” to “i’m sorry, i’ll do better, just please come home”. he’s soon blocked.

and when you miss your period the next month, you’re telling suguru. when the pregnancy test comes up positive and you’re looking up at him with a mix of shock, fear and excitement, he scoops you up into a kiss, murmuring about how he’s so happy.

because now you’re his forever.

[eternal-pie]

Stupid Pt.3

Shinso x reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 (Your POV ) coming soon

———————

Shinso can’t say he knows much about what dating is like in high school. He had no intention of dating during his time at UA, seeing more value in pursuing his career than getting sad about unrequited feelings. Dating will only distract him from his goals anyway.

Even with his inexperience Shinso doubts this is normal, sure when two people got together people would talk. But he doesn’t ever remember people caring this much.

People had been trying to convince you to ditch him the moment you two spoke for the first time and still did occasionally.

Hitoshi is used to the people around him being “warned” about him by others who didn’t actually know him.

You were just the first person to truly ignore the warnings.

Even as Shinso grew more sure you were comfortable with him, some deep illogical part of him tensed when you had told him people had come to you. Even as you joked about how weird it was, He had seen the same thing happen so many times before, people never know when to mind their own business.

It was weird the first time he witnessed one of these “interventions” for the first time. Intervention was the only thing he could think to call it because that is exactly what it felt like. Warnings about Shinso were always whispered behind his back. So it was entirely unexpected when they were given right in front of him.

The two of you had been eating lunch together, something you did often. When a group of girls descended upon you, They surrounded your table, as if they intended to keep you trapped there until they were sure they had convinced you. Not a single one even acknowledged he was there, his presence seemingly irrelevant to them, or maybe intentional.

Hitoshi can’t say he was fond of the way they spoke to you, like you had some sickness you couldn’t recognize, like you didn’t understand what they were trying to tell you.

It felt like a rehab meeting scene and some shitty American movie. Or what was probably more accurate in their minds, a group trying to help their friend realize they’re an abusive relationship.

The girls made it very clear that they thought that you were not there of your own choice, but maybe you felt you couldn’t leave or didn’t realize how bad things truly were.

Occasionally they’d glare at him, trying to communicate their disdain through expressions alone, never speaking. Too afraid to risk activating his quirk.

Some of them seem to be genuinely concerned, he could commend those few for trying to help a person they thought might have been in danger. Though there were only two of them, they did their best to come off as nonjudgmental as possible, to offer you help without barging it on your personal life or making you feel bad.

Their “intervention” felt more like an offer of help if you ever needed it, instead of something they were forcing on to you.

Though their genuine compassion was drowned out by the other girls with them, more interested in gossiping about him than actually helping you.

They’re every pore oozed judgment, words dripped with condescension.

Didn’t you know who he was? What Toru and Kiro and Hina said he did? What he could do? Did you even understand the position you're in?

And despite Shinso understanding that the fear these people have, their concerns were based on hearsay. Despite how much he hated the way these people acted like they knew anything about either of you. He knew they had a point, so he was surprised watching you brush off their concerns.

Your hang outs never stopped, you never got distant. Occasionally some kid would learn of it and get worried but over time people just got used to the idea of you being friends with Shinso.

He’d guess, most assumed you only spoke to him occasionally, He’s a pretty private person so most of your interactions were left unseen. people probably thought you tolerated him every once in a while.

This belief didn’t hold up well when you started “dating” him. Shinso is a little disappointed about how weird people were about it.

No way is it normal to have random people try and talk to a guy they’ve never spoken to before about his “girlfriend”.

Shinso didn’t know any of these people.

A select few didn’t know him either, to them he only existed in proximity to you. He liked talking with them the most. they only made off hand comments, usually to see if he really was “the guy”. It was still weird but at least there wasn’t any accusation in their tone.

Others did know of him and had already formed strong opinions of him long before ever meeting him.

In his life very few tried to “call Shinso out” to his face. If the things they thought were true, then why on earth would they want to risk triggering his quirk?

But no one can truly anticipate the stupidity of upset hormonal teenagers, especially those who think they're heroes saving someone or have something to prove.

Most, smartly, were subtle. Only ever eyeing him suspiciously while commenting on how great you are and how lucky he is.

The groups were always bad, people were stupid in groups. Usually they were led by one of the boys he had scared off, hopes dashed and ego bruised, they approached him with the intention of settling some unspoken score.

Though all scenarios shared the worst part, trying to explain you weren’t dating to begin with. No matter how bluntly or clearly he stated it, his words seemed to go over their heads.

It was only when he spoke to you about it that he was able to even try and guess at what was going on .

——————

Let me know if you guys are interested in seeing this in your POV :p

——————

@x-reader-reblog-station

[glitter-stained]

As you are THE Jason Todd truther I need to show you this if you haven't seen it.

https://www.thepopverse.com/comics-dc-batman-jason-todd-red-hood-huntress-new-series-2025

First of all I'm flattered that you think highly of my Jason opinions

I think I'm gonna answer this ask and the other one I got and then I think I'm not gonna talk about this comic again until it's out and I've read it.

When I first got told of the announcement, I was extremely concerned for two reasons:

-Jason and maybe Helena seem to be investigating a cop killer => I expected this comic to be full of copaganda.

-the variant cover and the rating of the book heavily hint at the possibility of jayhel (though that cover might still be bait, it's not for sure!) My biggest concern with that, as a Barbara fan who was just about to get into huntress and think she sounds really cool, is that Helena was gonna get basically dickbabbed. Having since gotten more info on the writer, I'm far more optimistic that this isn't going to happen. Now I personally don't really vibe with the ship, however I think a lot of it hinges in the execution. I feel like for ships, it's a lot like combat, where people are quick to powerscale and ask "would it be OOC for this person to do that (aka "date this person"/"lose against this person)" instead of asking "in which circumstances would it be in character for that to happen". And sometimes it will be OOC no matter what (like, take Jason/Joker, I can't envision a world in which that's in character), but a lot more hinges on context and execution than we give writers credit for. Another question is "do I want to see it"/"am i interested in seeing this development", which, again, I don't ship jayhel, but I think good enough writing can sell you on a lot of things you weren't previously interested in. I don't vibe with dc's belief that Jason just has to have a love interest, but even if the ship isn't compelling to me, I'm not too worried about it being super insulting to Helena which was my biggest concerns.

Now as for the writer herself, she is a trans woman. From what I've heard of her works in beast world, she did some things I'm not a fan of (implying that Jason's killing in UTH was mostly selfish and motivated by a desire for revenge) and some things I'm very much a fan of (bring an element of class consciousness to red hood's character (which, as a jaybin fan, is so essential imo and one of my biggest gripes with winick), make him criticize cops, turn him into a big dog). I do need to read that comic. But whether or not one likes gfm's writing and politics, I think it's important to keep in mind how much more scrutiny queer women are exposed to from the fandom compared to male writers. Devin Grayson's writing has its issues with racism, but she did try, apologize, and grow, and this fandom brutally bullied her out of DC on the crime of writing Dick getting raped. Meanwhile Marv Wolfman, who did it twice and without any of the respect, empathy or even acknowledgement that Grayson put into it, still gets lauded as an NTT writer to the day. When called out on their misogyny, haters will bring up the racism as an excuse why Grayson is so uniquely terrible meanwhile I recently saw someone recommend Dixon's (you know, the neo-nazi) Nightwing run (the one in which he makes Nightwing a cop) as "universally loved" by the fan. Meanwhile, Tom King is writing Wonder Woman.

All that to say, GFM is gonna be exposed to so much more scrutiny than her peers, and that's so important to keep in mind and remember that we are getting a Red Hood ongoing that is not written by Lobdell. Genuinely people, this is great! Jason fans have been trapped with Lobdell for so long, and now he's being written by someone else! I'm not saying you have to like her takes, or that the comic is going to be great, but I feel like the least I owe her is to withhold my judgement until I actually read the book. And to remember that even if the comic turns out mid, that's already a win compared to the terrible writing we've had before!! I am hungry for a mid jason comic, for Jason content that I'm gonna actually be able to read without wanting to set something on fire, even if it's not great or revolutionary by any means.

The art does look very annoying (Jason looks old and I'm not a fan of Helena's suit and pose) but even with that, we've seen very little of it, and the angel imagery looked very cool. And again, we've seen very little of it.

I think the promo/way it was introduced was annoying as fuck, but it is far, far too early for me to be upset about it. In the meantime, that's just one more reason for me to get caught up with Helena, which I was already planning on doing, and be relieved that whatever happens, it's still not Lobdell.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

So, basically he's already doing his way of martyrdom for the trolls by orphaner duties, he's very used to it, and there's nothing else that's manipulative to make him useful instead of dangerous for them. And the logics won't do because he operates on built in logic that trapped him. Emotional trickery will work, but he's generally unaffected by approval for his usefulness, so only therapy(TM) and being genuinely caring to him is the hard but direct way to ensure longterm cooperation?

tbh just be nice to him, be his friend, lmfao

by the time he's on the meteor

- gamzee has successfully cockblocked eridan and karkat's friendship so hard that karkat spends the whole time worrying about where gamzee went and got used to ignoring eridan to let him do his own thing, he didnt visit eridans planet even one time & thus proved with actions that he doesn't care about eridan

- kanaya is fully just making fun of him to his face, literally just his Actual Bully

- equius gatekept nepeta from associating with him too much + the fact that he asked her out scared her off, despite being her server player it's shown that she immediately joined up with equius and then the two barely ever talked to him or visited his planet

- feferi SAYS she's still eridan's friend (and he believes it because hes just that desperate) but doesn't defend him at all when sollux tells him he should've killed him. and we know sollux means it and it's not just flirting bc sollux literally says "not interested" to blackrom in that same convo

- rose also bullied him & outright approves of kanaya bullying him because neither of them are mature enough to just block and move on

- he acts genuinely nice to jade, gives her his gun out of genuine goodwill, and even lets her use him as a sounding board for her concerns about her grandson, and she calls his family heirloom a "legendary piece of shit" and yells at him bc he didnt say things in a polite enough way (contrast how nicely she talks to tavros despite tavros trying to leverage killing her grandpa into dating her)

- vriska treats him as an awkward ex she barely talks to, terezi wants nothing to do with him and agrees with him when he calls himself "fuckin pathetic", he was never close with the other lowbloods in the first place (aradia holds the highblood "snobs" in low regard and tavros probably lumps eridan in with vriska and doesn't hang out with him)

like. literally who was on his side. literally was there even a single person who bothered reaching out a friendship hand to him. were his emotions *wrong* when they told him nobody gave a shit about him anymore?

theres an old memo fairly early on in hivebent where eridan, fresh off a breakup with feferi, tries to go to past karkat for emotional support. the memo is closed by future karkat, post-murderstuck, who calls the memo "particularly nauseating" in hindsight. most obviously, he's referring to his part christening the tavros/vriska situationship, which ended with tavros and vriska both dead, but while he IS pretty devastated by ALL his friends' deaths, he never cared particularly about vriska or tavros (tavros literally messages karkat first after his spine gets broken and karkat goes "shut up go away dumbass"), so it'd be odd for this specific convo to be nauseating in hindsight just because of tavros and vriska - why not a convo with feferi and sollux, who also died? or equius and nepeta? he cares about them a roughly equal amount.

but he's always had a soft spot for specifically eridan, which we even see in this convo, as he offers - very gently - to work eridan through his emotional issues in private. in fact, it's implied that before sgrub started, they were CONSTANTLY messaging and "bro-ing out" like that, to the point feferi feels a need to comment on it.

but the thing is, we know he never follows through with this offer, because we also see eridan pestering present/future karkat for help - and it doesn't happen, because karkat is too upset about sollux's death, and because gamzee cockblocks him by making up an excuse for why he can't let eridan offer comfort to karkat. and then after that, he fully refused to hang out with eridan on lowaa bc eridan refuses to leave and lowaa is dangerous, despite telling eridan he'll make time to visit & eridan constantly asking him to do so

karkat also takes eridan's betrayal BY FAR the most personally; he already knew vriska was a murderous backstabbing freak & doesn't seem surprised to find out she killed tavros or was killed in turn; his reaction to gamzee snapping is mostly fear, but he also yells at past!gamzee to go away because present!gamzee's murder spree has "nothing to do with him", but when past!eridan comes on, karkat screams at him, calls him a backstabber, asks "how could you", etc.

hussie in the book commentary leaves the question of why this specific convo made karkat feel nauseous open for speculation, so here's my hat in the ring - it's because eridan was karkat's closest friend prior to sgrub, but he took it for granted, and this memo marks the first in a long string of failures on karkat's part to actually bother ACTING like a friend to him. eridan has a bar so low you could trip over it, and karkat still failed to meet it. this memo was the first of many broken promises to someone he genuinely cared about.

if he had visited lowaa even one time, and bothered having even one feelings jam sesh with his bro, maybe eridan wouldn't have reached the end of his tether.

like yeah eridan is fucking annoying, and he says some politically horrific things, but 1) he was literally a 13 year old child, 2) his actions clearly indicated he didn't believe most of his bs, and 3) multiple characters express after his death that it's a shame he died, a signal to the audience that he was intended to be, if not sympathetic, then at least tragic. was being annoying really so much of a sin that a child needed to be bullied and die friendless?

thats what eridan serves as a commentary on. the way casual callousness - apathy - can snowball into massive, terrible tragedies. people just didn't care about eridan, a dangerous element in their midst, who didn't make any secret about being dangerous, and this is the end result of that.

what would've happened if people cared sooner?

[bambooswordwielder]

Dying in pain because I was re-reading the SVSSS extras and I came upon this (note this is part 1 due to tumblr allowing only 10 images per post – will release part 2 when I am physically ready to read SVSSS extras again)

One of the saddest things about Shen Jiu's backstory is the fact he doesn't immediately assume Yue Qingyuan abandoned him. It would've been sad enough if he just accepted that Yue Qingyuan would leave him at the first opportunity that arises, but instead Shen Jiu has faith in him. Faith that Yue Qingyuan would never abandon him. He thinks of different reasons why Yue Qingyuan hadn't yet returned. 'Maybe he's injured, maybe he's been trapped, or maybe he's dead even!'

Shen Jiu even resigns himself to finding Yue Qingyuan's 'dead' body and burying him himself, regardless of the fact that he might be getting into more danger. It's only after Shen Jiu had long since escaped the Qiu Household and was under the control of the Wu Yanzi, the demonic Cultivator who taught him, and they meet Yue Qingyuan at the Immortal Alliance Conference did Shen Jiu realise that Yue Qingyuan 'abandoned' him.

We see this in the dialogue that leads up to Shen Jiu accepting that Yue Qingyuan is 'Qi-Ge's' new name.

Before this scene, all the dialogue had listed Yue Qingyuan as 'Qi-Ge' or as 'Yue Qi'. (Qi-Ge when they were on the streets and Yue Qi also when they were on the steets and in the examples shown below)

The scene from earlier where Shen jiu accepts that his 'Yue Qi' is gone makes this all the more heartbreaking.

He asks Yue Qingyuan why he never returned. Simple and straightforward — the most straightforward, dare I say understanding, that Shen Jiu has been to anyone at this point. He simply asks him why he didn't come back, why he went missing for so long, why he's now dressed up as if he were a noble young master and the current Qiong Ding Head Disciple. He's willing to wait for an answer, willing to hear and try and understand. Would he have understood and accepted any excuses, no one truly knows, but Shen Jiu was willing to at least try.

When Yue Qingyuan opens his mouth and only a empty apology in the form of 'I let you down...' comes out, not even a reason or an excuse, Shen Jiu realises something.

He is talking to Yue Qingyuan.

He no longer considers Yue Qingyuan his Qi-Ge. To him, Yue Qingyuan is just like the other spoiled young masters that used to belittle him on the streets, the same stuck up fool born with a golden spoon in his mouth that was born too lucky to understand his pains.

After this scene and after Shen Jiu joins Cang Qiong, I can't find any scene where Yue Qingyuan is referred to as Yue Qi by Shen Jiu ever again.

Shen Jiu realises that he would have preferred Yue Qi, his Qi-Ge, was dead.

Shen Jiu genuinely cared and trusted Yue Qingyuan (or Yue Qi to be more accurate). In the scene where the other street kids where being attacked by Qiu Jianluo, Shen Jiu is laughing and states that they deserved it, clearly taking joy in their misfortune, but the moment Yue Qi gets involved, Shen Jiu becomes concerned.

He chases after Yue Qi, chases after him as the other goes to save another boy who Shen Jiu only moments ago had been laughing at for 'getting what he deserved'. This was also the very same boy who Shen Jiu had been fighting with for his begging spot.

Shen Jiu clearly does not show any level of care for the other street kids, yet he shows an exception foe Yue Qi. He willingly chases Yue Qi when the boy goes to save a boy Shen Jiu hates. He willingly waits for Yue Qi to return despite being tortured for so long with no hope in sight. He willingly gives Yue Qi the opportunity to give him an excuse for why he never came back and seemingly abandoned him so he could join the 'elites' on Cang Qiong and become its future Sect Leader.

People say that Yue Qingyuan shows favouritism to Shen Jiu, but I dare say that Shen Jiu shows an equal amount of favouritism to Yue Qi.

If anyone else dared to do something similar to Shen Jiu, Shen Jiu absolutely would've murdered them at first sight. Yet Shen Jiu has allowed Yue Qi all of this.

Shen Jiu doesn't accept any of Yue Qingyuan's attempts at an empty apology, because he's tired of getting hurt. Hurt from giving Yue Qi chances and giving him time, and recieving nothing but empty guilt filled apologies.

Apologies that feel more like lies to help sooth some guilt that Yue Qingyuan has for his past than actual remorse for betraying Shen Jiu. Yue Qingyuan believes that his actual reason would only be insulting to Shen Jiu, but if he had just broken for a mere moment and told Shen Jiu even a glimpse of the truth, then I guarantee you that Shen Jiu's intelligence would lead to him figuring everything out in one hour most.

However, Yue Qingyuan does not break his formal mask of distance politeness, does not cry and tell Shen Jiu he was quite literally unable to leave and save him, does not tell him about how Yue Qingyuan thought the other had died.

Shen Jiu simply wishes the corpse of his dead friend would stop apologising for something he never explains and would simply leave him alone.

Yet, Yue Qingyuan (Yue Qi) is a wound that will never stop bleeding.

He wants Yue Qingyuan to leave him behind again — this time he demands it of Yue Qingyuan.

However, Yue Qingyuan promised himself he would never abandon Shen jiu again.

The Two Soulmates Who Fate Itself Separated.