#i CANNOT handle itching
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crazylittlejester · 10 months ago
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do u find my self destructive behavior and concerning sentences sexy?
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honeyhonest · 13 days ago
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sorry for the two or maybe twenty asks in the inbox I haven't answered yet, I cant do anything but doomscroll
for the past several days
(*is a grown adult*)
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autobot-bumblebee · 9 months ago
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Getting inspiration from my Gundam Base trip and watching the adventures of keferon making those custom Blurr and Drift figures out of gunpla has me itching to pick up this 30MM kit that would easily make a great Whirl figure I have never read IDW in my life
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wormsdyke · 2 years ago
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ew ew ew ew bad thing happened gross beisnajajs ahhh auuuhhhheghsjswkos real life event occurred that is real life gross and ocd is going CRAZY over it
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thesnacken · 2 years ago
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I really feel like people don't take my sensory limitations and sensitivities seriously.
I'm not just being picky, actually! Strong scents cause my respiratory system to flare up!
I actually CAN'T tune out stimuli. Its just A Thing. I've never been able to do it in my whole life because my brain Just Isn't Wired Like That
So when I say "Can you not smoke here?" or "Please only get unscented trash bags" or "I really need you to be using headphones, please" I am expressing a Very Real Need and if you're just going to ignore that I have to resign myself to the fact that I just can't trust you.
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sugugori · 25 days ago
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l 18+ MDNI
Arguing with Jason has never been easy.
He’s never played fair, you’ve come to realize this early on into your relationship. See, Jason is a force of nature. He’s so attuned to you. Your anger and discomfort, your pleasure and pain. He’s usually very good at listening to you during times like these but sometimes his composure slips and he cannot handle when you’re upset with him- even by his own doing. So he gets this itch, this need to make it better- to make things between you good again. To make you feel good.
Up until he met you, Jason has never thought of himself as a seductive person, at least not on purpose. But seduction comes easily for him, he doesn’t even mean to half the time. He doesn’t realize how many people in Gotham truly want him. He’s just that pretty and unfortunately, it works a lot better on you than he’d expected it to.
So when he gets in one of these moods, especially when you’ve had it with him and his recklessness- it never goes far. Because you’re mouthing off at him, and usually this is the part where he at least tries to look remorseful but he’s replaced the solemn look with something much more sensual.
His eyes drop real low and he’s looking up at you through those pretty lashes. His eyes have always been your weakness, he’s come to this conclusion a while ago and you’ve never known peace since.
So it’s safe to say you’re a bit distracted when he’s dragging you in between his spread thighs by the loop of your jeans. Big hands smoothing down your waist and trailing up your spine. And suddenly, you feel caught but will yourself to carry on as he’s going “mhm” and “I know baby, I’m sorry” but this voice he’s giving you, so sultry and low, tells you he’s not really listening. Because before you even realize what he’s doing, and how smooth he truly is, he’s lifting your shirt above your belly button and kissing your tummy before he starts unbuckling your pants. Then he’s curling those pretty fingers into your waistband and pushing your panties down your thighs. You’re close to protesting but he’s kissing at you so sweetly and whispering, “forgive me”.
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Reblogs are appreciated!
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writingsbychlo · 11 months ago
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WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott
summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.
word count; 3007
notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!
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If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 
He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 
And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 
She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.
He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.
He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.
You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 
And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 
Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 
And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 
When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 
At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 
“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”
“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.
He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 
You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 
You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.
“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”
“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 
The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 
But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”
“What’s not the same, bella?”
“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 
“They’re not?”
“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”
“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 
“I love you so much, Theo.”
“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”
“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”
Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 
Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 
“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 
Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 
“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 
It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”
“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”
“Hey!”
“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 
His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 
He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 
“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”
“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”
“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 
“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”
“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 
Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.
“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 
“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”
“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”
Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”
“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”
“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”
“Go to sleep, amore.”
But you’d already drifted off.
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It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 
In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 
“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 
This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 
He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”
He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 
“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 
“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”
The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”
“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 
“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”
“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 
“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”
“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”
“Never.”
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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 1 year ago
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When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line Pt. 2
Warnings: Cursing
Pt1, Pt3 Maknaeline
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BANGCHAN|
Chris groaned and put his head into his hands. He stared at the the screen in front of him.
8:28
He had decided to make today an early morning so he could call it an early night, but he wasn't even able to work on what he had actually intended to do because a trainee's mistake. Although he was heated in the moment he had apologized when he had run into the frightened guy in the canteen. It was an honest mistake when laptops looked exactly the same.
He had also realized that he was heated in the moment when you had come to visit him.
His fingers itched to text you an apology but he knew this was something that he needed to apologize for in person. So he shut his laptop and tucked it into his bag and decided to head home rather than starting a new project.
It was eating at his consciousness, the way he brushed you off so easily earlier just because of stress that had nothing to do with you. He reached over the couch in his studio to flick off the light.
A soft ruffling of fabric startled him slightly and he looked down to see your black coat draped over the couch of the same color.
"Its freezing." He mumbled grabbing it and quickly heading out of the building.
I was such a dick. She was so distraught she walked home in this weather without a coat.
Chris drove over to your apartment and parked haphazardly on the street. It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and a small part of him was worried about having something happen to his car, but he couldn't focus on that when he needed to focus on fixing things with you.
He pulled out his keys and found the small silver spare to your apartment.
"Baby?" Chris called out. He slipped off his shoes and he walked from the foyer into your kitchen, his black socks slipping a little on your freshly swept floors.
"Y/N?" Chris called out, flipping the light on in the kitchen. The box of trash bags was sitting on the counter and he placed them back under the sink. "Baby?"
Something was off. Chris felt it in his bones. He tried to steady his heart. Maybe you were asleep? If it wasn't to him, you tended to turn to your bed for comfort when you were sad.
He reached for your door handle out of habit of strolling into the guys room but paused to knock.
"Love?" He called out. He knocked for another minute or two, before turning the handle softly in case you were sleeping. "Baby, I don't know if your asleep but I'm coming in okay?"
Your room was empty, and the fairy lights you always kept on were off.
He flipped on the light and he felt his heart sink to his feet.
He immediately rushed out of your room and started looking through the cabinets and drawers and nooks and crannys of every other space.
Your apartment was bare minus the essentials.
In your guest room you had boxes neatly stacked in various places.
Chris felt tears crawl at his throat.
"Baby?" He tried calling out again. "Y/N this isn't funny! Say something!" He cried out.
He fumbled to grab his phone from his pocket.
His fingers shook as he called you.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
"No," He mumbled.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
"No," Chris mumbled. "No," He said again.
He felt his heart jump through his throat and he couldn't breathe.
His hands were shaking as he dialed up another number.
"Oi, Chris you coming home soon-"
"Fe-Felix." He choked out. He couldn't even continue without hyperventilating. "Fe-Felix I-I can't breathe. I-I can't-"
"I'm coming to you alright? I have your location I'll be there okay? Okay just try and calm down okay? I'll be there soon." Chris could hear the jingling of keys and the slamming of the door and Minho's voice in the background as Felix panted running to the car. "Stay on the phone Channie-hyung okay, I'll be right there."
"I-I can't breathe." He cried out.
"It'll be okay, I'll be right there hyung." Felix slammed his fist down on his car horn and yelled a string of profanities as another car blared their horn in the distance as well.
By the time Felix had arrived at your house Chris was an absolute mess.
Felix was instantly able to tell what was wrong with Chan when he saw the boxes and Chan desperately trying to unpack them.
"Hey-hey Chris calm down." Felix said as he grabbed onto his hyung's shoulders.
"S-She's leaving me." He cried out. "Felix, she's leaving me. She can't leave me. My heart -my heart can't take it. I don't want-want her to leave m-me."
Felix didn't know what to do as he watched his best friend completely shatter in front of him.
"Hyung I'm sure she is-"
"I-I called her clingy. I told her to leave me alone. I don't want to be alone." He whimpered. "I didn't mean it Felix. I didn't m-mean it." He whimpered his voice cracking. "I-I was stressed and-and I yelled- I called her ob-obsess- Felix, she can't leave me. I don't want to be alone."
Felix pulled out his phone and dialed your number. "Hyung calm down I'm sure she's just angry at the moment, it'll blow over. It'll blow over." He repeated as if convincing himself as well. He chewed on the edge of his thumbnail as your phone rang. Chris was collapsed on his and Felix pet his hair.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
Felix looked at the broken man in front of him and swallowed.
"It'll be fine. Y/N wouldn't break up with you over something like that, right?"
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MINHO|
"Do you really think it was necessary to yell at her?" Changbin asked as the guys were walking through the market. You had opted not to join and rather hang out with some of the girls from TWICE who were also in Paris for the same event the Kids had came for. The only problem was you had opted to do that for the entire week. You all were flying home tomorrow and Minho hadn't seen more than a glimpse of you other than a few pictures the girls had posted on their fake accounts, and the few pictures you had posted on your private account.
"Why would it not be necessary?" Minho asked.
"Because you're pissed at something that wasn't even her fault." The shorter male said and he picked up a random little trinket to look at, it was a little heavy so he used it as a makeshift dumbell for a second.
"Ya, she quite literally ruined my entire plan."
Changbin looked at Minho like he had grown a second head. "How the hell was she supposed to know you were trying to propose to her?!"
Minho pursed his lips and turned away and started walking.
Changbin moved his tiny legs to catch up with the cat eyed member.
Felix crossed paths with them and joined the conversation.
"Minho-Hyung you've been miserable all week. Just swallow your pride and apologize."
"I have nothing to apologize fo-"
"Ya! No offense Hyung but you're being a fucking idiot!" Felix said. The two Hyungs of Felix recoiled and looked at the sunshiny Aussie. "Sorry for my tone Hyung but it's true. All she wanted to do was spend time with you because she loves you. And to her it seems like you got upset because you didn't to spend time with you. And you got upset with her because you planned a super elaborate and flamboyant proposal because you love her and you weren't able to execute it. So basically, you are both pissed at each other because you love each other more than anything in this world. So tell me how that makes sense at all?"
Changbin nodded. "He's not wrong at all you're kind of an idiot."
Minho sighed and pouted.
"Which means you need to be the one to apologize because Y/N-ie actually has reason to be mad."
Minho's pout became even more noticeable.
Ugh...apologizing.
Felix seemed to read his elder's mind.
"Its either apologize or ruin your relationship. While it is super easy to replan a propsal, it sure as hell won't be able to replan your future if she walks out on you."
Minho felt that hit his heart hard, but still wanted to be stubborn. "What do you mean easy to replan a proposal? I spent months planning the one I intended to do."
Changbin rolled his eyes. "Ya! Y/N might be your girlfriend but you seem to forget she was all of our friend first. And I sure as hell know she would not care how you proposed to her. Even if you just did it the traditional and plain way of getting down on one knee and saying 'Y/N...will you marry me?" Changbin said mimicking Minho's voice.
Felix shook his head. "No it'd be more like 'Y/N marry me. You have no choice."
"No- 'Y/N, my cats need a mom. You are now their mom.'"
"'Y/N, our wedding is next Friday. Don't be late. Wear white." The happy boy mimicked with a deadpan face.
Changbin and Felix's antics were the thing that made Minho laugh all week. And the levity he felt now was what he felt with you always. And that made the absence of you hit him even harder.
"Can we go back to the hotel? I want- no I need to apologize." He said suddenly.
Changbin sputtered. "Never thought I'd hear that come out of your mouth ever."
Minho playfully shoved Changbin into Felix as they headed back in the direction of the hotel.
"So how do you think you'll propos-"
"Minho-ssi!" The guys stopped and they noticed Chaeyoung running towards them.
Minho felt his heart dip for a second. "What is it?"
"I-I went to get Y/N-ie for a girls night out but she wasn't in her room so I figured maybe she just stepped out to the convenience store with Tzuyu or Momo but she wasn't with them when they came back and Tzuyu said the last time she saw her was this morning after we had brunch." Chaeyoung tried to steady her voice. "And I called her but my calls aren't going throu-"
Minho didn't give Chaeyoung time to finish before he started running.
He didn't know where he was going, he didn't even really know where to find you.
All he knew is that he had to.
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CHANGBIN|
"Y/N." Changbin said. "Jagiya!" You ignored Changbin as you walked into your apartment.
He followed ensuite and was pouting. "Jagiya please talk to me. It's been three weeks."
"Mmmm. Nah. I don't feel like being clingy today." You said as you set your purse down and headed towards your bedroom.
"C'mon please? It was a stupid argument. I'm sorry. I was just upset."
"Hmm. And I'm upset right now too." You said as you started digging through your closest. You pulled out a cute yet sleek dress.
The same dress you had worn on your first date with Changbin oh so long ago.
"Babe?" Changbin asked as he saw you rummage through things on your vanity.
"Red or Pink?" You asked allowed. "Or I guess the question is should I do a matte red or a glossy red?" You turned to Changbin and gave an innocent look at him. "I don't know which one makes me look better."
"Stop that! Thats not funny. At all." Changbin said as he followed you into the bathroom. He stayed planted in the same spot even as you changed, shutting his eyes respectfully until you finished changing.
"Where are you going? Why are you getting dressed up."
You pulled your hair out of the braided updo you had it in and let it fall over your shoulders in a beautiful mix of loose curls and evem looser waves.
Changbin couldn't help but admire just how beautiful you looked right now. Matter of fact you always looked beautiful, but Changbin couldn't help but stare. Since this was the longest he had seen you in the past three weeks.
And seeing you get ready and dolled up worried him. It sparked a jealousy in him that he found himself all too familiar with these past few weeks. It was partly the reason he had snapped at you in the first place.
He had thought it was just a stupid argument but right now it seemed like it was so much more than that.
And it was slowly killing him. Had he really hurt you that bad?
"Jagiya where are you going?"
You ignored Changbin as you touched up your makeup slightly, wiping off the clear gloss you had and favoring a glossy red lip instead. You grabbed your favorite perfume - and Changbin's favorite on you - and sprayed it delicately over yourself.
You looked at your watch and looked up at Changbin. "I have to go I'm meeting someone at five."
You grabbed your purse and Changbin grabbed your wrist.
"W-What do you mean you're meeting someone?" You snatched your wrist away from him gently and made your way towards your car.
"W-Wait Y/N it's not a date is it? You're not going on a date? Wait please tell me you aren't."
"Changbin I have to go. It would be a bad first impression if I was late."
"Can you please at least tell me where you are going?"
You huffed. "I'm going to that one coffee shop next to the karaoke bar? The one we always used to go to when you had first asked me out." You said as you were strapping on a pair of heels.
Changbin felt like his world was collapsing.
"No. We aren't breaking up you're not allowed to do that."
You looked at Changbin with a confused - what the fuck are you on - type look.
"Changbin you realize people have the free will to do whatever they want right? Thats like me telling you you're not allowed to go to the gym anymore."
"You're not breaking up with me Y/N." He said his voice starting to waver. "You can't."
"Yup, Bin." You said as you opened the door and walked to your car. "Lock the door behind you, would ya?" You called out over your shoulder.
The muscular man quickly locked your door and came to the drivers side.
"Y/N," He said tapping on your window.
"Changbin can you make this quick? Like I said being late is a bad first impression."
"Who cares about first impressions! Y/N you can't date someone else!" He cries. "It was an argument! Are you really breaking up with me over this-"
"Damn Changbin I'm no-" Your phones started to ring and you answered it.
Changbin pouted at you as you spoke. Trying his best to listen to the conversation.
"Hello..." Why'd she say hello like that? So nicely... "Yes, I'm on my way right now just leaving my house..." She's already on the stage of letting him know her whereabouts? "Haha no no of course not...yeah....haha!" What could he possibly be saying to make her laugh that much? Only I can make her laugh like that...well I guess Jisung too but mainly me! "Uh I'll just get an iced vanilla latte with all my modifications- just ask Jiwon she'll know...." They have mutuals? "Yeah I'll be there soon....Yep! Can't wait to meet you either...mkay bye!"
Changbin felt his heart constrict as he watched you hang up and start your car.
You gave Changbin a small wave and pulled off, your tires screeching a little as you drove.
He quickly went to follow you. You wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't let you. Because you meant the world to him.
And without his world he would be nothing.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
HYUNJIN|
It had been a few days since Hyunjin had felt like he had spent time with you.
Because while you had been in his presence physically he felt like you had something on your mind.
You weren't all up on him like you usually were. And he missed that. He also missed you asking him if he liked your outfits. He missed the little twirl you would do asking if you looked okay; he missed being able to look at you lovingly while you did so; he missed being able to wait a little bit before he could comment how striking you looked; that little pause in time just to assure that he would be the one who could see you in that specific outfit longer than anyone else you would run into or hang out with, even if it was mere seconds more.
The way every part of you took up every aspect of his life was something he was so used to that he longed for it when he couldn't have it.
And for the past eleven days he longed for it.
So bad.
He missed you.
"Do you think I did something wrong?" Hyunjin asked Jisung as they sat down enjoying a cup of coffee together.
"I'm assuming so because she's treating me just fine. We actually just went to the movies the other day. Some random guy tried to hit on her and she made a comment about his hairline and how it showed his age and that shut him down real quick. It was actually fucking hilarious the way-"
"Did she say anything about me upsetting her?" Hyunjin asked, interuppting Jisung's tangent about his trip with the most loved girl of the band.
"Mm...now that I think about it, she made a comment about some other idol. I forget who she was talking about but I remembered her saying you were talking to them because she was just standing there waiting for you to finish and thats why she decided to drink that one drink. Because she didn't want to...how did she put it...look pathetic? Yeah, I think thats what she said. And she said it was no use because she looked pathetic throwing up all over Bangchan." He took a sip of his coffee. "I actually thought it was funny because Chan was saying he was trying to find an excuse to not have to wear that one suit jacket anymore because it was-"
"Jisung you're getting off topic." Hyunjin sighed. "Did she seem upset when she said that?"
Jisung shook his head. "I wouldn't say she seemed upset when she was talking about finding a use for her hands. I think she looked...off afterwards though. Especially whenever your name came up in ocnversation." He looked at Hyunjin pointedly. "But that wasn't that often. She may be your girlfriend but she is my soulmate so we have our own issues to discuss." He said taking another sip of his coffee. "Like all the drama in Hybe right now. Did you see- wait I'm getting off topic."
Hyunjin frowned. "So it was something I did..." He mumbled.
Jisung sniffed once. "Yeah probably." He said scratching his ear. "I can ask her if you'd like me to."
"No I thinks it okay, I'll find time to talk to her."
"Well they say there is no better time than the present because look who just walked in." The chubby cheeked boy nodded his head somewhere behind Hyunjin.
He turned around and saw you walking in with Felix. You walked up to the counter but didn't notice Hyunjin or Jisung sitting there.
Felix greeted the barista and ordered himself a drink while you looked at the menu.
Hyunjin felt the tiniest - the most miniscule pang of jealousy but it was quickly washed away because he knew that you only had eyes for him. You guys hadn't celebrated your first anniversary yet - it was in four days -but he knew just how much you loved him and he loved you.
And just that - he knew how in love you were with each other.
And thats why it hurt him so much to think he had hurt you.
Felix finished ordering and turned to you. Hyunjin had expected you to tell him your order and for Felix to relay it back to the barista but instead you spoke in Korean - hesitantly - but still with an immense amount of effort and obvious intermediate skill.
Felix corrected you on a couple of words, but after a few motivational words from the barista - words you obviously understood - you shined a bright smile and laughed.
"Y/N doesn't speak Korean." Hyunjin turned to Jisung, and the small quokka like boy pouted slightly. "Jisung."
"I walked in on Y/N-ie and Felix-" He blurted out. "God, I've been keeping that secret so long." He let out a breath and looked at Hyunjin's shocked face.
"Walked...in...?"
Jisung put a hand to his forehead. "Sorry I didn't finish my thought. I meant that I like...walked in on them while he was giving her secret korean lessons." He said wiggling his eyebrows.
"Jisung you're not helping my paranoia."
"I was wiggling my eyebrows because of the reason. She said she wanted to learn Korean so when it came time to meet your family she would be able to communicate well with them. It seems like she's actually pretty damn good at it too. Shes a fast learner according to Felix."
Hyunjin groaned. "She's so fucking cute but of all people in our groups she decided to get lessons from Lix? Did she never watch the survival show." He chuckled.
"Yeah...I guess that means I can tell you the actual reason she's upset with you now right?" Jisung said.
Hyunjin's head shot up and he looked at the younger boy expectantly.
"She overheard you calling her clingy. With the idol and his girlfriend..." He looked down and his voice dropped a little. "Its been eating at her a lot. Especially the girl's comment about foreigners and stuff. She was a total bitch for saying that because now it's been making her rethink everything. Because she seems to be convinced that it would be best for your reputation and your future if she ended things with you."
Hyunjin felt his throat constrict slightly. "S-she didn't mean that. She doesn't mean that. She can't."
Jisung hmmed in acknowledgment. "Hyung...she has it rough you know? The pedestal people in our industry put you on - and even in other industries and other countries -is the pedestal you're put on by the same people she consistently is surrounded by when accompanying you. The same people who write all those hateful comments about her on your posts and send even more hateful comments to her private account."
Hyunjin's eyes widened, and his fingers twitched slightly. "What comments? She hasn't told me about any...hate...comments..."
Jisung sighed. "She doesn't want to worry you. And I think she believes those comments too...she can't think of anything else to believe."
Hyunjin felt a knot place itself in his throat to stay as he walked you watch out the coffee shop with Felix trailing you. The thought of your insecurities bothered him immensely. The thought of you thinking you weren't worthy of him when it was the complete opposite; when it was him who wasn't worthy of you. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.
And he wished you believed him when he said all the things said.
Believe me when I call you beautiful. When I say I love you...
And if you don't want to in me...
Believe in us.
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sangunary · 17 days ago
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Yandere BatBoys × Civilians reader!
One click and you loosen the rope, one click they're coming, one click they'll devour you.
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You didn't even mean it, you inherit the camera from your late grandmother and the poster on the walls were alluring that day.
take a pictures of the vigilantes and get money in return, it was an easy deal. You needed the money eitherway.
There was no going back once you sign yourself in, sneaking around at night trying to find one in action or just idling.
You didn't mean to uncover so much, the disgusting desire is monsters, the lingering smell of ecstasy, how they were always there perfect and at their best for your camera.
At first you ignored it, it wasn't your fantasies to care about, the smell is nothing and they were feeding your stomach... It was way too easy.
Yet you held onto your camera tighter, smiling each time a perfect picture came and that greed in your face was visible.
You were too busy with perfection that you didn't notice the shadow looming behind you, the smirk that follows after you celebrate taking a perfect picture, the sudden shift of atmosphere and... The cold nagging you ignored.
How their eyes would stare back at your hiding spot after you successfully taken a pictures, their face decorated with a smile that was meant for you.
That way they would get so close yet hesitate, and stood still suddenly, almost as of they like to rise your heart beat.
You were a fool, guided by money and greed.
Your pretty small room filled with photos of each of them, hanging by the threat you created. You ended up being obsessed.
Not with them but with the money.
You didn't notice how your drawer was open after a long day of stalking, how your bed was wrinkled and smelled of a man with desire, how your window lock was broken and somehow more organized that usual.
You didn't care, not by a long shot. If you keep up the good work you'll move out and find a decent home.
Even at the comfort of your home there was something always wrong.
Something you could pinpoint.
Each time you slept you woke up tired and restless, your body ache badly like you slept ina bad position, your head dizzy and your room extremely organised.
At the bedside table you found a picture taken by your very own camera, your picture with them. Your blood ran cold, you did remembered anything like that happening.
Your face perfectly captured, a masculine hands caressing your cheeks like he have been worshipping you for decades...
You slap your face hard to wake yourself from this terrible dream, yet it was true...
At the back it was written:
' You need me to survive and so do I, I cannot handle to admire you from afar.. My palms are itching to meet yours, I'll tear my flesh to stop the logging or you accept to be mine. I do not wish to harm you, but don't cross our line, you will not blame me if you do cross it. I don't know how much longer I can resist my desire... Be prepared to meet me soon. '
You drop the photo on the ground and cold sweat down your forehead. This felt like a threat than a love letter.
You don't know which one is loosing restrain, you're helpless and can only assume.
You fell to the ground legs weak for no reason, you saw the pile of books you have read on the ground, ontop of eachother neatly... By size.
You opened it with trembling hands, inside the book words would be circled in a read pen... Some once and some alot.
' For I will feast upon my dear self or any beating heart then burn you with my presence '
' Only mine to devour '
' The taste of your blood on my tongue symbolises my devoting love '
Each word and sentences getting more sick and outrageous... You don't remember buying such books.
you held your head on your hand, heart itching deep inside. You didn't know what was happening... Were you lucid dreaming?
One page was written in a neat handwriting a letter addressed to you, this one was different from the one on the photo of yours.
' I will not stop until you are completely mine, when our soul and flesh merged our love will blossom. Afterall, you seek my presence first and therefore I grant you my twisted love '
God, this people are sick. You threw the book, you tried to get up yet you slipped and fell on the cold ground. Your legs completely numb and the dizziness never leaving.
You remembered drinking a cup of coffee you made and went to sleep, how did they slip the poison in? Or was it something else. But, you only drank coffee at home last night nothing else to consume.
you pick up your phone and dial your employer. The person who have been paying you and the reason for your situation.
You yelled and even cursed him out before he could talk. How this shitty job didn't pay you enough to be in this situation. To be the clown in skilled mans life.
When he respond your voice stuck in your throat, the voice was new not the raspy, always out of breath and clearly old didn't great you.
His voice was younger by sound, talks your age and the attitude was new. This was not your boss... What the hell is going on?
" Are you sure you want to quit? "
You didn't hesitate, the moment you realised your job was definitely going to cause more then expected you were ready to cut the line.
" Then... I'll have to cut your money since you couldn't complete it "
Well, that's fine. You've worked long enough to be unemployed for months.
" I'll also have to take the money back... Since it's in the terms and conditions of your job "
Take back? Is he serious, all the money in your account are earn through legal process...
Suddenly your phone ring, checking what was going on as you watch in horror the money from your account suck out.
Even the ones you earn through other side job was taken, completely freaked out you ask him what the hell was going on.
" See, darling you can't have everything you want... It's either you continue your work or starve, rent is due as well. I know you're smart enough to do the right thing. "
You didn't have a choice, it's either being homeless and possibly dying or continue your work.
Looking up from the ground you look at your camera, well kept and clean.
Reaching out for it you hold it against you. You'll be fine, just endure this for a while and you'll get out... Just a few more pictures.
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more coming ->
Might turn this into a series.
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shinoko-oshi · 2 months ago
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Simon Riley Headcanons
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I cannot for the life of me try to think or write anything, my brain is literally fried and I’m going through a writer’s burnout so here’s some Simon head cannons that have been circling my head for a few weeks until then (hardly proofread)
1 - Is a man child when it comes to clothes, have to go somewhere fancy and he has to wear a suit? He’s whining the entire time, something about his tie being too tight or the tag on his jacket itching his back which leads me to the whole nudist headcannon I have for him
2 - Everyone talks about smoker Simon but what about stoner Simon? I’ll stand on this headcanon until the day I DIE, definitely buys weed whenever he’s on leaves and all his clothes probably have the faint scent of it too.
3 - Refuses to watch horror movies because they make him annoyed “I’ve lived worse.” He says, gets irrationally angry when the character does something dumb. Will stand up and leave the room if someone splits from the group in the movie.
4 - Ridiculously good at claw machines. He has “tactics” he says, will ramble on about the “weight to claw ratio” or something while standing there utterly focused, ends up walking away with four stuff animals.
5 - Weirdly good at origami, probably picked it up one day out of boredom, now he leaves perfect little paper cranes or frogs around, if you give him enough puppy eyes maybe he’ll fold and make whatever animal your requesting of him.
6 - I lowkey see his favorite fast food place being subway, if you even consider it as fast food, loves a good meatball sub or sandwich every now and then (self insert because subway sandwich’s are elite)
7 - Terrible liar when flustered, can lie under pressure in the field flawlessly, but if you compliment his cooking? “Wh—what? No, I didn’t make that—I mean—it’s just food”
8 - Can handle literal torture but one pickle on his burger? He will visibly gag and scrape the burger clean like it personally offended him.
9 - Despises glitter. Like, with a passion. Once stepped in a pile of it during a mission in a warehouse (don’t ask why it was there) took weeks to get it out of his boots. “Glitter is the herpes of the craft world,” he says (I snickered at this)
Bit of a shit post
Master list
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fans4wga · 2 years ago
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"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"
by Mary McNamara
"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.
Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.
This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.
More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.
But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.
Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.
Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”
“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”
If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.
“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”
Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.
A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”
When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.
Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)
Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.
Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.
Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.
The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”
Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.
Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.
At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.
It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."
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halfway-happyyy · 3 months ago
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nsfw frank hcs..? *hits send and runs away*
oooooh friend... don't be shy! this is a safe space!
alright, here we go.
to start, i hc frank as being (for the most part) a little vanilla in the sack?? like, we all know he's old school. a real gentleman, if you will. but he absolutely has no problem getting his hands dirty, and while his imagination may lack a little, he is more than happy to oblige his partner in anything she wants.
blowjobs. while he'll never insist on them, he cannot deny how beautiful his girl looks on her knees for him, her flushed cheeks hollowed out around the thick length of his hard cock. he loves the tight squeeze of her throat as he gently fucks into the back of it; loves to see the tears cascade down her cheeks as she struggles to take all of him. yeah, he's a big fan of blowjobs.
while hangovers are a rarity for frank, they make him inexplicably horny. he'll often wake his girl up with greedy, exploratory fingertips. he'll pull her closer to him beneath the sheets, his cock hard and throbbing against the soft skin of her thigh. "what about some coffee?" she'll murmur sleepily. "fuck the coffee," is frank's usual response.
frank loves a public romp. whether he has his girl pressed against the brick wall behind the bar, or a quickie in the back of his truck, he's all in.
quite literally turns feral when his girl starts ovulating. like, cannot keep his hands off of her, constantly pawing, and pulling, and nipping, and sucking.
cockwarming. finding out how much they both enjoyed it was a fluke at first. frank had taken his time inside of her, always reveling in the blessed feeling of her all-encompassing warmth. when he went to pull out, a desperate whimper emanated from the hollow of her throat. "not yet, frankie..."
so it happens sometimes when sex isn't even the goal. if she's had a particularly shitty day, or if she's missed him a little extra, he'll press into her until she's filled to the brim, and he'll stay that way as long as she needs him. frank is nothing, if not one of the most patient and willing men in the world.
praise. he found out early on in their relationship the effect his words had on her. how all he has to do to get her going is to say something like, "attagirl. no one's ever taken my cock this well, baby." or, "i know it's big baby, but you can handle it. i know you can, that's it- just relax a little, fuck -
has no problem putting her in her place when she's being bratty, or fussy.
one of his favourite punishments for her when she gets like that, is to talk her through her own orgasm. like he knows how bad she wants his cock, but he denies her that privilege and makes her come on her own. it's enough to scratch the itch, but it doesn't compare in any way, shape, or form.
the man knows what the site of him jerking himself off does to her, so he'll purposely wait until she's on her way home from work to start. he'll set himself up on the couch, his thick thighs wide, and his cock hard and dripping pre-come over the edge of his tight fist. he'll be close when she enters their apartment, desperate growls sounding in the hollow of his throat, his fist a frenzy around himself. and she'll talk him through it the rest of the way. "does that feel good, frankie? come, and i'll clean up the mess for you."
how sometimes she needs frank so badly, that the current state he's in, matters not to her. whether it be blood, dirt, concrete mix, or sweat, (or a combination of all four) she takes whatever she can get greedily.
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earlsirius · 5 months ago
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pull my heart out and eat it.
leona prefers kissing your neck over any other valentine’s day gift.
a/n: god i miss leona….slightly suggestive.
leona’s not a fan of sweets, you’ve noticed. he warned you about gifting him chocolates for valentines — you’d probably have to eat them for you both. “nah, they’re just too sweet,” he’d say, his ears practically flattening themselves in distaste at the thought of eating candy. he knows he’s not a fan of candy or rather, at least not any traditional type of sweets.
if he had it his way, however, he’d eat you up all hours of the day. the first kiss you two shared had sparked something in his brain that he can no longer ignore. a need, a desire, a hunger for you. like an itch, lurking beneath the surface of his skin that he cannot ignore when he’s around you.
it’s there when he’s kissing the corners of your mouth, goading you into begging for his lips on yours. when he trails down past your jaw and onto that pulse point on your neck—where you let out a little pleased sigh when kissed—and the smirk that graces his face is so handsome you have to avert your eyes. truly, your lips and pleased sounds drive him mad; had he been any weaker, you’d have to walk around campus bearing his lovesick marks all around your neck.
he likes the idea too, knowing no one else could even try to stake a claim on you. but he knows you’re much to shy to parade around like that so he holds back.
“leona,” you plead, missing the feeling of his soft lips on your neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and gently card your fingers into his hair. “somethin’ the matter?” he whispers into your collar bone, barely audible enough for you to hear.
“please quit teasing me.” you mutter back, already knowing that your confession would bring about a shit-eating grin on his face. “oh? you can’t handle my kisses anymore? don’t go getting all shy on me,” he says, but continues his ministrations on your neck. he knows he’s won once he feels your grip in his hair tighten and the sounds that come out of your mouth are far too enticing to satiate with mere kisses.
yes, he’s not a fan of chocolates or the like—but he has found something, someone, much more sweeter.
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kitten4sannie · 7 months ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟏 - 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞
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pairing: mafia! ot8 x undercover officer! reader (fem)
genre: mafia/organized crime au, drama, angst
w.c: 3.3k
ch. summary: after countless months of preparation and ensuing anxiety, you finally revisit the infamous Black Pirates, but from the other side of the law, and it’s almost as if you’ve never left.
ch. warnings: not too many….uhhh very light depictions of violence, a bit of blood, a bit of manhandling (not the sexy kind), mingi is unhinged (?) and has a gun lmao, no smut this time but just you waittttt
a/n: hi thereeeee i cannot tell you how excited i am to share this with you all 🥹 this is my first mini series and i’ve never tackled anything this big before so please be patient with me when it comes to updates~~ (also this chapter will be the shortest of them all given it’s the intro hehe) but aaaaaaa i’m so happy we can go on this journey together >w< now sit back, relax, and enjoy ~ and if you like, please pleasee share your thoughts and feedback with me <33
song rec: scene 1 - value ~ ateez, concrete jungle ~ bad omens
fic masterlist
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“Are you ready for this?” 
All you could hear was your heart thumping inside your ears, unable to focus on your Commander in Chief’s loaded question, tuning into the sounds of keyboard tapping and faceless chattering about the current crimes and cases that were plugging up the figurative drain of your local prescient, rather than what he was saying to you. Were you ready to infiltrate one of the most prevalent crime families your law enforcement agency has come to know and loathe over the better part of the year? Not as their friend, but this time, as an enemy? They had half your city in the palm of their hands and were itching to take it over, pushing the drug and gun trade into overdrive, washing countless loads of dirty dollar bills, and in turn, leaving you and your agency to clean up the mess they left behind — and what a mess they always made. Bullets, bodies, and broken dreams. Crime and punishment. Officers, regulations, and yellow tape. An endless game of chess that nobody ever seemed to win. The perpetrators of this game, their faces never left your mind, etching their likeness inside the grooves of your memory even after being away from them all for so long, at least, until now — if you stopped being such a goddamn pussy and answered your boss. 
“Y/N…? You can back out if you need to…” He gave you an apologetic smile. “Given your history, I know it might be a lot on you. We can always put somebody else in instead.” 
“No..!” you suddenly protested, bringing a closed fist near your mouth as you forcefully cleared your throat. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve been preparing myself for this since you helped me…change course and join the academy.” Realizing you were digging your nails into your palms, you relaxed your grip, leaving red idents behind. “And, of course, when we realized what the Kim Estate was actually doing behind closed doors.”
“It certainly wasn’t tennis,” the seasoned man chuckled softly, leaning back slightly inside his fraying office chair, rubbing at his eyes from underneath his reading glasses, not aware of how prominent his eye bags were becoming. He let out a small sigh. “Y/N, I have a lot of trust in you. Going back into that world as an undercover operative is not a walk in the park under any circumstances, but this…they have proven to be unpredictable. I’ll ask you once more. Are you sure you can handle this case?” 
In all honesty, you were never too sure what you could handle, both in your professional and personal life, but the uncertainty never stopped you from diving in headfirst. And this, this case, being one of the dominos that would knock them all down, well…it was simply too delicious to pass up. 
You stood up, bowing your head to your superior, before giving him a knowing nod. “I’m ready, sir.” 
-
Your closest friend back in your police academy days and fellow undercover partner, Yeonjun, was the first person you spotted upon exiting your boss’ office, well, specifically his bright red hair, slowly navigating past the maze of desks and whispering coworkers to make it over to him, privy to the looks some of them gave you as you slipped past them — though it didn’t phase you anymore. Your past did not define you. At least, that’s what your therapist had been telling you the past few years. 
“Hey, partner,” Yeonjun greeted you with a smile, reaching out to hand you a paper cup full of freshly steeped coffee, leaning back to sit down on the crowded surface of his desk. “Tomorrow’s the big day. You ready?” 
You took the steaming cup, your jaw tensing as the bitter liquid hit your tastebuds. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Choi.” You always thought of someone else when you uttered that surname. He was the complete opposite of your partner here: calm and collected, soulless when he wanted to be and full of love the very next moment, erratically ticking between the two like a malfunctioning metronome. You hated him for it. 
“Hey, it’s just Yeon, now. Come tomorrow, I won’t be my normal sexy self.” He pulled his freshly printed fake ID out of his t-shirt pocket and held it up to your face, replicating the toothy smile he had inside the picture. “Well, still sexy, yeah?” 
Chuckling, you leaned in, studying the fake ID, impressed by how real it looked. “Very sexy, Yeon, but remind me why you dyed your hair red? Is it the quarter life crisis settling in?” 
Yeonjun rolled his eyes, tucking his ID back into his pocket. “Ha-ha, funny. I just thought I should look the part if I’m going in as some renowned hacker.” 
You pushed a few files out of the way to lean against Yeonjun’s desk beside him. “Have you been studying up on your skills then?” 
“Of course, I have. I know I joke around a lot, but I’ve  dedicated my life to this, Y/N…” 
You looked down at Yeonjun’s hand, the one that rested on the desk in between you, his fingers drumming against the surface. “Good, because they don’t play around…”
The drumming stopped. Yeonjun turned his head to look at you, a flicker of light inside his brown eyes, like he was trying to understand you. “Do you…ever think about your life before the academy? Before this? Do you wish you could go back?” 
You bit into your lip, gazing past Yeonjun’s hand at one of the files that contained information about the very people you would be betraying. “I…just want to be good. Do what’s right…That’s why I left all of that. It’s why I’m here now.” 
He leaned over slightly until his shoulder pressed into yours, using his pinky to nudge at yours. “Not many would do what you’ve done, y’know. Giving up their way of life for something like this.” 
You nudged back, staring into the half empty cup of coffee you were still holding onto. “Not many people are this stupid.” 
“Not stupid.” Yeonjun pretended to clink his empty paper cup against yours, giving you a soft smile. “Brave. You’re the key component of this entire operation, Y/N. That’s huge. You’ll make a difference. Isn’t that what this is all about?” 
“Maybe…you’re right,” you replied softly, once again distracted by the folder from before, the one that was slightly open just enough to reveal the image of a man with slick back hair, dressed in quaint Victorian style clothes, with a big bow wrapped around his neck. Kim Hongjoong, owner of the Kim Estate and leader of the Black Pirate Organization. You knew him all too well, and all his closest cohorts. Would they recognize you? You hadn’t seen them since you were a young girl, forgotten by most and lost inside a system that didn’t care about you, except for the ambitious young man that swore he would one day be sat atop his ivory tower with those that followed his path. And now there he was, living the high life inside his big shiny mansion, sipping on fine wine, while you were still forcing down bitter instant coffee day after day, surrounded by people that looked at you, but never really saw you for what you were, whatever that was. Maybe Hongjoong knew. 
“Y/N…? You’re staring off into space again…” Yeonjun whispered near you, getting up from the desk once you came back to Earth. “Anyways, it’s late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow. We should get going.” 
“You’re right, we need as much rest as we can get.” You stretched out your legs before standing back up, just now noticing that you were the only two left inside the workspace, the light from your Chief’s office still peeking out past the dusty blinds. Maybe your Chief knew. 
Packing up your briefcase, you smiled at Yeonjun. “Should I dye my hair too?” 
Yeonjun pouted, resting his own briefcase against his hip. “That’s my thing.” 
-
Particles of dust and dirt filled your lungs, joining the blood that you began to choke on. It hurt to breathe, but your body carried on supplying oxygen to your lungs, not giving you a choice in the matter. You rolled over onto your back to face the night sky, your teary eyes focusing on the twinkling stars and the bright blue moon that loomed over the town, storm clouds rolling past until they blocked out the pretty view. Heavy rain began to pour down, soaking you to the bone. Even though you were losing the will to live, you still held onto the silver pair of scissors that you used to prove a point, even though it might’ve cost you your life. That was still something. However, your dear mentor still stood over you, his neck being clutched tightly by his trembling fingers, crimson slowly slipping past them. 
“See what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you? Ungrateful brat,” he choked out in between shallow breaths. Frustrated, he let out a gurgled growl, tossing his bloodied shank onto the dirt road beside his feet. You could’ve sworn you saw tears slip down his flushed cheeks, but then again, it was raining. “I didn’t want to do this…but you gave me no choice.” 
His closest companion took a step forward to securely grasp his upper arm, urging him, “Sir, we need to get you to the nearest hideout. I won’t let you bleed out like this.” 
The disheveled man’s other trusted subordinate placed a gloved hand on one of his shoulders, squeezing into it with urgency. He surveyed you past his foggy glasses, pushing them up the slope of his nose. His eyes were once filled with a sense of endearment when he looked at you, but now, they held contempt. “She made her decision, sir.” 
The struggling leader turned his head to look back and forth between his dear followers, then at his men who all waited behind them, their rain-streaked faces contorted with conflicted apprehension. They stood perfectly still like statues, until the all too familiar sound of sirens rang out in the distance. That’s when they all scattered, like rats, escaping from the flashing lights and disappearing into the dark of the night.  
Your soon to be killer was the last one to leave, looming over you as though he was Death himself, beads of rain, sweat, and blood dripping from his chin and down onto your face below. “Just one question, darling…” He held his neck tighter than before, growing dizzier from all the blood loss. “Why?” 
A small, self-satisfied laugh painfully bellowed from your chest, causing you to grab at your stomach where it had been sliced into. “The blade cuts both ways, sir. I was just following your lead…” You weakly lifted your hand up in the air, as though you wanted to reach him, but simply couldn’t. “Why aren’t you proud of the monster you created?” 
The man began to beam at you, but the corner of his lips stretched to an unfathomable degree, as though he had carved a smile into his own face. He lifted his chin up just enough to rid himself of the shadow that was cast over him, his brown eyes now void of anything, simply black. Soulless. “Oh, darling…the monster was always there. I simply dug it up.” 
You suddenly woke up and sat upright in your bed, your entire body covered in a layer of sweat, leading you to desperately kick off the comforter that had trapped you inside the sweltering heat. Upon realizing you were no longer caught inside a warped memory from your adolescence, you looked down at your stomach, lifting up the edge of your shirt to see if your scar was still there, sighing softly when you saw the jagged patch of skin. 
Your past doesn't define you. He doesn't define you — none of them do. And, now, you had the opportunity to create your own definition, and get a little revenge while you were at it. 
-
“Do we ring the doorbell…?” Yeonjun asked from beside you, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, getting a bit dizzy from trying to take in all of the glory of the Kim Estate. 
You were too busy studying the faded stains of blood left on the stone floor below to notice how out of character Yeonjun was already behaving, not that you could blame him. A similar prick of anxiety was already embedding itself into your mind, but you waved it away as soon as it made itself present. “We may be entering a lion’s den, but we won’t behave like them. I’ll knock.” 
Yeonjun nodded swiftly, clutching the handle of his messenger bag tightly inside his sweaty hand. “Hopefully they don’t eat us alive.” 
You gently pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, making sure you didn’t disturb the positioning of the micro earpiece that was sitting just behind your tragus. “They won’t, as long as we prove our worth.” 
You grabbed onto the obnoxious ivory door knocker, and just as you were about to make your presence known, you found yourself being yanked into the mansion by someone much bigger than you, Yeonjun’s squeaks of protest becoming background noise as soon as the man slammed you against the nearest wall. What felt to be the cold barrel of a compact handgun pressed up into the bottom of your chin with a click, your assailant’s focused, deep-set eyes boring into your own. “Is this how you welcome all your guests?”
“Not all of them…some I leave dead on the doorstep before they can even get a chance to beg on their knees,” the man muttered in a distinctly gravelly voice, a small chuckle bubbling out of his throat. Usually, the people he dealt with would be pissing themselves at this point, but it just seemed to be another day for this strangely familiar visitor. 
You could almost see your partner out of the corner of your eye, already on his own knees, his distinctively red hair being held onto by a nameless man in a 3-hole knit balaclava. It was then that you angled your head up slightly to get a good look at your old friend, feeling the barrel push harder into your skin. “Every guard dog has to have their fun, right? And, if you blew my head off now, well, where’s the fun in that?” 
“You’re right, doll.” The tall man’s plump lips quirked up into a smirk, slowly dragging his gun past your chin, down your neck, and along the softest parts of your body, poking and prodding at you in an attempt to humiliate you. “Should I see how many new holes I can give you? Fill them all with hot lead?” 
“At least buy me a drink first,” you said through gritted teeth, trying not to show any discomfort when he pushed the loaded gun roughly into your abdomen, directly into your scar, not that he could’ve known it was there. 
He seemed to enjoy your pained response, leaning his head back to let out a sudden laugh, one that was short and abrupt like a bark. “You’re one crazy bitch…” The man licked over his plump lips. “I like that.” 
It was just then that somebody else entered the foyer, their presence so distinctly powerful, the lot of you couldn’t help but notice before he even stepped foot in the room. “Is that any way to treat a valued guest, Mingi? I thought I trained you better than that.” 
Mingi immediately de-cocked the gun and brought it behind his back, tucking it away inside the waistline of his tailored pants. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Seonghwa patted Mingi’s shoulder with a gloved hand, giving him a small nod of understanding, before turning his attention to you and Yeonjun, the both of you cautiously standing with your backs against the paneled wall. “I do apologize for my guard dog. We try to keep him on a tight leash, but sometimes…he gets loose.” His shifting eyes formed half crescents. “You understand.” 
Yeonjun glanced over at you for guidance, and you responded with a small smile, before nodding your head obediently at Seonghwa’s words, Yeonjun following your lead. “It’s not a problem.” 
Seonghwa clasped his hands together, shaking his head slightly, a strand or two of raven hair falling past his forehead from where the rest of it sat perfectly still. He couldn’t seem to understand why he was experiencing a bout of deja vu. “Where are my manners?” He pressed his palm into his chest, and gave a small bow. “I’m Park Seonghwa, the second in command, if you will, here at the Kim Estate.” 
Yeonjun bowed back instantly, pushing his dyed hair behind his ears as he stood up straight. “My name’s Yeon. That’s what I go by online.” 
Seonghwa’s eyebrows raised up slightly. “Ah, I know you.” He chuckled to himself, glad that he was able to pinpoint the air of familiarity, but still annoyed that something wasn’t quite right. “You’re that hacker that’s going around and fucking with the local government, aren’t you?” 
Yeonjun was glad he didn’t eat too much that morning, otherwise he would’ve already thrown it up by now. He brought a peace sign up to his face and smiled. “That’s me, professional shit-stirrer at your service.” 
As more men began to trickle into the foyer to see what all the commotion was about, Seonghwa slowly turned his attention back to you, the true object of his frustration. It’s like he had seen you many times before, in a dream, perhaps? In the casino they ran behind closed doors? Or maybe you were one of the many playthings that were brought in to appease the voracious appetites of his degenerate cohorts. Either way, Seonghwa both loved and loathed the way you were already inside his mind, like you had already lived there, and your existence had simply been unearthed by the sands of time. 
“And, you are…?” he asked in a slow, calculated manner, his head tilting to the side. 
“I’m a diamond expert,” you explained vaguely, motioning to the large suitcase of supplies you were holding. “I can see the value of most things from a mile away, much like your dear leader.” 
Hongjoong was already aware of your arrival. You could feel it in your bones. 
Seonghwa brought a closed fist to his chin, nodding at your words, still not completely sure why he felt so uncomfortable. “But, who are you?” 
Your bubbling amusement was starting to rush to the surface, unable to keep yourself from smiling. And, just like that, you reunited with your dear mentor, except on opposite sides of the chess board. You were delighted everyone was there to witness the beginnings of your awaited rematch. “Why don’t you ask him? I think he’ll have an idea of who I am,” you replied giddily, prompting you to motion your head to the man that stood above the rest of you. 
You felt something stir within the men that looked at you, as though what had been hidden for so long had finally come to light. You weren’t a ghost, much to their surprise — well, at least, not yet. You were, of course, taking a gamble with your life, and your partner’s as well, but risks were meant to be taken, rules were meant to be broken, and strings were meant to be cut.
As though right on time, Hongjoong dug his nails into the mahogany railing of the expansive landing, his free hand unconsciously adjusting the bow that was wrapped securely around his neck. He understood the most out of all them. Value. You looked up to him, moving your fingers as though you were using a pair of scissors. 
“Remember now?” 
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asce-of-hearts · 7 months ago
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Asce darling (hope it’s ok I call you that!) , please please with a cherry on top may I please request yandere’s monster trio (separate if that’s to many maybe just Sanji) In there 40’s cause I am simp and omg there look amazing 😩👌 as hcs plesse 💗anon
Old man
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contents: Yandere!Monster Trio headcanons when they're in their 40's (gn!reader)
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more content of Luffy, Zoro and Sanji here
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TAG LIST
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WARNINGS: NSFW.
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Monkey D. Luffy
The stubble always itches when he kisses you. No matter how much you tell him to shave he never does. Either way, also tickles a little when he gives head lol.
Obscenely strong, he was very lanky all of his life so you wonder just when did he get all broad. Broad back and shoulders, very muscly. Still thin but his body definitely changed.
It's insane how a man can look so much like his grandpa. You saw a picture of dragon once when you both were young and thought maybe he'd grow to look like that. Oh how wrong you were, he looks NOTHING like his father. But his grandpa on the other hand? Yeah, two peas in a pod.
Just a little bit more serious now that he's older, otherwise the same lighthearted, cheerful, optimistic ray of sunshine he has always been.
Whiny when he gets jealous. Possessively wraps his arms around you, stretching them until not an inch of you isn't covered and pouts as he gets you closer to him. Shooting daggers with his eyes at whoever is making him have such a reaction.
Cum gallons, at one point he really wants to secure a heir and he isn't letting you leave the bed until he's sure he has placed something inside your tummy.
Marathon sex is a must with him. He has insane amounts of stamina and recovers very quickly. Be prepared for back and hip pain, and also for a looot of sleepless nights.
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Roronoa Zoro
He isn't four sword style Zoro because he can handle for swords, its a euphemism for his cock. And once you realize you can't get it out of your mind.
Smile and frown wrinkles that not only make him look more mature, also make him look insanely hot whenever he goes all expressive.
Drinks quite a lot, more than usual over the years, not an alcoholic but definitely likes to drink whenever he can.
Dad bod. His arms are enormous, his back is very broad. Very hairy also. A little beer tummy that he sometimes feels self conscious about, trains very hard on the days he feels particularly bad about it, ignoring the fact that you can still see his abs without him needing to flex.
Very nice, comfortable man tits for you to sleep over.
Silently possessive, only puts his hand around your waist or hip, sometimes goes all filthy and just starts delivering sloppy kisses as he stares at whoever is making him feel this way, grinning when you moan and tap out as he gropes your ass.
Still gets lost, never learned his lesson. Relies on you a lot to get to places.
Sex with him is slow and deep, his thrusts are very hard and he has to full nelson you every time just because he has broken multiple surfaces over the ship whenever he fucks you because he just can't control his strength when his cock is buried deep inside you.
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Vinsmoke Sanji
Passionate man, let his hair grow because you once said he had pretty hair.
With the years his food just gets better and better, always imagining recipes whenever he's not thinking about you.
His voice gets a little deeper, it rumbles all around his chest whenever he talks. You like to fall asleep with him talking to you, its soothing to feel that.
The biggest sex drive, he CANNOT keep his hands off of you. It doesn't matter when or where, he's always ready to pounce over you and make you his.
Always smells like cigarettes, his cologne mixed with that smell is almost aphrodisiac.
Very pretty, very handsome. He evoques cute aggression from your part and only laughs whenever you get mean around him. He thinks he's sooo cool just because he has pretty hair and pretty eyes and a pretty body and a big cock.
Passionate man like I already said. Never goes rough during sex but that doesn't mean he's boring. You always end up crying from overstimulation because his words alone when he fucks you so deeply, so tight against him is enough to make your head spin.
Possessive but remains chivalrous about it. Whenever he talks about he refers to you as "My ___".
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i want them dead actually
hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!!
have a great day/night
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skyenish · 23 days ago
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“Don’t you dare worry about me”| Jamil Viper animatic 🐍
I love characters with a superiority/inferiority complex, gotta be one of my favorite genders
———
I got this sound from a MHA edit, and as many things do, it reminded me of Jamil. Bakugo and Jamil aren’t that similar in character, but they’ve got their similarities nonetheless! I found that particularly his monologue here fits Jamil.
“Don’t you dare worry about me”Because Jamil has said he hates how kind and caring Kalim is, how his smile makes his skin itch. Even after Jamil’s overblot, Kalim still wants to be friends, still worries about Jamil. Does Jamil even deserve that?
“Attack me! Why won’t you fight back?” Because that would make it so much easier to hate Kalim. It wouldn’t make Jamil feel so complicated inside if Kalim showed some resistance
“Why did I end up having to chase after someone who was always so far behind me?” Because it isn’t fair that his whole life Jamil has been better, at almost everything. Kalim, especially in Jamil’s head, grew to be behind Jamil when it came to what he could do, to usefulness. And yet Jamil has to bow down to such an imbecile? Someone he has convinced himself is stupid and incapable, and he has to serve him for his whole life?
Anyways, how is everyone doing? I’m actually really proud of this animatic! My test week and this school year is finally over! Though I’ll still be busy in the vacation, I’ll definitely try to make more animatics again. Also! I CANNOT handle this heat, and it’s only going to get worse, and this is why I don’t like the summer… But!! I have the TWST anime to look forward to! I’ll definitely try to make a Heartslabyul animatic for when the anime releases, I’m so excited!!!
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