#i want women with knives

[rachelfoleyisntdead]

more toxic yuri in resident evil. calling them a dog but yuri. knife fights but yuri. being weirdly obsessed w/ each other but yuri. relentless flirting but yuri. is this something.

[nandivina]

Morally gray lesbians with knives?! Yes please

[red-garden]

Post canon Mu Qingfang transitions and Wei Qingwei (aka xianxia Hozier) discovers religion (his beautiful incredible angelic wonderful wife).

[tomboyyyaoi]

o i wanted to make a post that im honestly not smart enough to actually sit down and think out but i like the way meryls trauma doesnt completely woobify her character but does still affect her, it just feels nice to see a female charcater not be completely reduced to a wet soggy mess bc of trauma but also not to (very unrealistically) just Get Over It i think trigun has a nice balance and its refreshing

[gaywarcriminals]

Women should kill each other with their bare hands

[theonlyadawong]

very interested in the type of training ada does to develop her fighting style

[arrhythmiacomic]

recent d&d commissions!

my rates are going up later this summer so get while the getting’s good

[inkskinned]

okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

[susicheng]

⋆.˚ i spy with my little eye — l.mk

this is an 18+ work. mdni secret agent! mark x secret agent! reader warnings: death + murder, guns, knives (not used between each other) contains: oral (f receiving, mentioned m receiving), safe sex, piv, mentioned fingering, tease! mark word count: 2376

assignments like this one were always the most irritating. shoved into a tight gown, too much skin visible to any of the rich douchebags surrounding you. a knife pressing against your thigh where it’s tucked into a garter belt discreetly. an earpiece hidden by the over-the-top updo drowned in gallons of hairspray. the sickening sweet scent of perfume lingering on your skin to appeal to the prey. 

the only consolation was knowing your agency wasn’t the only one with commissions for tonight. with this many wealthy men and women in one place, there had to be other targets beyond your own. though, you couldn’t help but hope that meant you’d see who you were really watching for.

that’s how these things always went. you kept an eye on the pig you were assigned to dispose of, and another on the man who erased their touches with his tongue and teeth.

it didn’t take long. you spotted the target before finishing your first glass of wine. so much for a pleasant conversation before enduring the leering glances and clumsy flirting from someone old enough to be your father.

time to play the game. with a final sip of wine and a subtle adjustment to your dress, you moved toward him. a smirk curled your lips as you approached, feigning a stumble to fall into his arms. his annoyance at first contact quickly melted into intrigue as he took in your fluttering lashes and too-innocent expression. you were in.

too many lingering touches, too many thinly veiled innuendos, and far too many explicit remarks later, he was convinced to “find somewhere more private.” by now, the powder slipped into his drink should have started working. his movements slowed, his steps unsteady as the two of you entered a private room.

the door shut behind you two. a hand slid to your waist, and then up, up, up. he didn’t hesitate to cop a feel before pressing his greasy hand firmly against your mouth. you felt the cold press of a gun barrel to your temple. 

“pretty young things like you only approach me for two reasons.” he hissed.

he cocked the gun.

“you either want me dead, or you want to be spoiled.”

“judging by this little thing…” he used the gun to push your hair behind your ear, tap, tap, tapping on the earpiece previously hidden beneath it. his voice lowered to a whisper. “you’re here for the first one.”

it wasn’t the first time a target had figured you out. honestly, it was refreshing that he realized attractive women don’t usually flock to men like him. not that it made him any less deserving of a bullet.

he didn’t get the chance to finish you. with a quick twist and a knee to the groin, the gun was yours, and he was on the floor. now, it was your turn to press the barrel to his forehead.

“you’re smarter than you look,” you sneered. “still slow, though. that wine wasn’t just alcohol, y’know?” 

his grin was sharp, defiant. his hand shot up your dress, pulling your knife from its hiding spot and plunging it into your thigh before you could dodge. instinct made you pull the trigger. 

the gunshot echoed, his blood painting your dress a deep burgundy. pain shot through your leg, the knife buried deep in the muscle. with an easy press to your earpiece, and a murmured “it’s done” you disconnected it and took a deep breath. you had had enough of people barking demands in your ear all night.

suddenly, the doorknob rattled. you raised the gun, limping toward the door. it opened, and a figure entered swiftly.

before they could react, you had them pressed against the wall, the gun at their temple, your arm pressing against their throat as blood dripped to the floor.

“jesus. i check to see if you’re alive and i get jumped!?” they rasped, hands scrambling to pull at your arm.

you stepped back immediately, recognition hitting you like a slap to the face.

“mark?”

his laughter filled the room as you pulled him into a hug.

“holy shit, mark. you scared the shit out of me. i thought i was about to get found out.”

his arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed you against him. you winced at the pressure it put on your thigh. mark pushed you back immediately, dropping to his knees and pulling your dress to the side from the slit in the long fabric.

“my god, you have an entire fucking knife in your leg! and you were still trying to put a bullet in my head?”

you had to say, the sight of him between your legs like that might have been doing something to your body, especially when his stern gaze met yours, making you inhale a sharp gasp. something in you tightened.

a disbelieved laugh echoed through the silent room. “no way you’re turned on right now. there’s a dead guy less than 2 feet from us and there’s a dagger sticking out of you. absolutely nothing is happening until you aren’t actively bleeding on the floor.”

you grumbled as he stood and lifted you into his arms easily, stepping over the corpse as he carried you further into the room, to the bed.

“y’know,” you said with a smirk, “you just said nothing’s happening, and now you’re carrying me to the bed. mixed signals, mark.”

he rolled his eyes as he gently laid you onto the plush sheets of a hotel bed too luxurious to be familiar with the stain of red seeping into it. 

the moment you opened your mouth to continue your teasing, mark decided to tug the dagger out of your leg, eliciting a loud groan of pain. somehow he had found a first aid kit. how, you’re not sure, but mark always had a trick or two up his sleeve. obviously, being in this field had caused both of you to pick up some life-saving medical tricks. his hands moved with practiced efficiency, stitching and wrapping the wound with care.

“all done,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the bandages.

your fingers tangled in his hair as fire lit in your eyes.

“you sure nothing’s happening?” you murmured, voice low and teasing.

mark sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re already down there… might as well finish what you started.”

you didn’t miss the way mark’s eyes fell to the thin piece of fabric separating himself from your core. when he met your eyes again, there was heat in his gaze. a subtle nod from you, and he was sliding your underwear down your legs, throwing the garment somewhere onto the hotel floor. 

he dove into you with an eagerness you were not prepared for, grip on his hair tightening as a whine slid out from between your lips. his tongue moved expertly, pressing every button he could to work you up. his arms adjusted to wrap around your thighs (careful to avoid pressing on your wound), effectively pinning you down. all of your squirming and hair pulling was futile as mark dove deeper and held you tight against his mouth.

your whimpers were increasing in frequency, hands tugging hard on his hair as you desperately tried to pull him away from his place between your thighs.

“mark— mark, wait.” you gasped. “mark— need you… inside. please”

just when your orgasm was about to crash into you, he pulled himself away, adjusting to kiss up and down your thighs instead. your whine, of relief and of annoyance at your denied pleasure, filled the room as he continued to happily mark up your inner thighs, your hands still attempting to pull him upwards and get a move on.

that was one thing about you and mark that was different. he preferred to take his time. he liked to take you apart, piece by piece. cover the touches of your targets with touches of his own. make your body forget that it had ever been defiled by anyone other than mark himself. you, though, were impatient. you hated begging for what you wanted. you preferred to get what you need without much trouble.

something about the way mark forced you to be patient, though, was undeniably attractive. working you up until all you could think about was him, and then giving you an orgasm satisfying enough to last until the next time a mission overlapped. you couldn’t help yourself from craving him 24/7, though, despite the fact that it would never be possible to pursue a relationship given your careers. for now, these spontaneous rendezvous were enough for you. 

with one final tug, after what felt like hours, mark relented and allowed himself to be pulled up your body. your lips finally met for the first time that night, your own taste lingering on his tongue. 

“get inside of me. now.” you pulled him down further to whisper in his ear, delighting in the groan it earned from him.

“condom?” you sighed and reached into your bra, pulling the condom you had stashed there out and handing it to mark. the placement brought another smile of disbelief to his face, shaking his head as he unzipped his dress pants.

you hadn’t really had the time to appreciate it fully, but he looked good in a suit. you let your eyes drag up and down his body, gaze lingering on his now exposed dick as he rolled the condom on smoothly.

“ready?” you snapped your eyes up to his, meeting the smug expression on his face with a roll of your eyes.

“mark, if you don’t get inside of me right now, i might grab that gun and put a bullet in your leg.” his laughter echoed as he busied himself with lining himself up to your entrance.

he slid in smoothly, bottoming out with twin groans escaping both of your mouths. this part was always surprising to you. every time you saw each other again, it felt like he had gotten bigger. pressing deep into every part of you. he barely had to angle himself to hit all of the spots that elicited loud moans from you.

his movements began slow, his kisses traveling down the side of your neck and over the exposed parts of your cleavage. he had always liked leaving marks on you, painting you in shades of purple and red that he scanned your body for even when it had been months since you had last seen him. his kisses turned sharper, teeth infiltrating and pulling on your skin, as he picked up his pace. your hands clawed down his clothed back, one sliding up to wrap into his hair and pull him back up to meet your lips. with the moans you were letting out, and the grin on mark’s face, there wasn’t much actual kissing happening. 

“you look really good covered in blood, by the way.” he gasped out against your lips, reminding you of the blood that had splattered over your entire body when you had shot the man still lying in the hotel room earlier.

stunned laughter sounded from your lips, morphing into a strained moan when one of mark’s hands slid down to press against your clit, the other arm working to hold himself up. 

it didn’t take long for you to get close. his tenderness as he treated your wound worked you up more than you would care to admit, and he worked you halfway to transcending into another dimension when he ate you out.

“mark— mark. i’m,” you subconsciously clenched down on him, hard, pulling a hiss from his lips. “i’m close. please.” 

he doubled his efforts, shifting down so his lips were brushing your ear as he spoke.

“yeah? go ahead. cum for me, pretty.”

the raspiness of his voice, his steady thrusts into you, his fingers abusing your most sensitive spot, all of it worked to push you easily over the edge, whimpering his name as he shuddered with you, flooding the condom with his own release. 

you panted against each other for a who knows how long, until mark pulled out and tied off the condom, throwing it into the trash can placed in the corner of the room. he pulled you up, ignoring your whines and complaints as he dragged you into the bathroom to wash up.

after a quick shower together, in which you got on your knees to repay the favor from earlier and mark thanked you by burying his fingers inside of you until your legs were so shaky he had to carry you out of the tub, you worked together to scrub at your bloodstained dress. you shot a message to your agency’s cleanup crew, providing them with a room number as you blow dried the expensive fabric of your dress. thankfully, most of the more noticeable splatters had been mostly washed out. the worst of it was on the torso.

mark handed you his jacket to wear over the dress, effectively hiding the evidence of your kill. you tried to be discreet when you inhaled his scent surrounding you, but you still heard mark bark out a laugh, shutting down any thoughts that you had succeeded at that.

this part was always the hardest. leaving the hotel room hand in hand, still bantering as you made your way to the lobby, where the party had mostly vacated by now. making excuses to stay together. 

“i’ll treat you to a quick dinner” led to “let’s just have a quick smoke break” which ultimately faded into “i’ll call you a ride. let me wait with you so i know you make it safely.”

getting into the car was difficult, mark leaving you with lingering kisses and promises gently whispered into your ear. 

it wasn’t until you made it home that you noticed it. casually reaching into your (mark’s) pocket, instinctively looking for your phone there (which was still sitting safely in your purse), you found a small slip of paper. a smile spread across your face as you took in the contents.

0802 127th street

if you ever get sick of rushed one-night stands, find me here :)

— mark

© susicheng .. please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work

mel yaps: this is my REAL 200 (now almost 300) follower special!! hope u all enjoy hehe.. fraktsiya mark has been clouding my brain for far too long i had to get it out of my system.

#: @f6llsun @i03jae @jeonghansshitester @holyhaech @chenlezip @mi1kteaa

[foone]

Evil undead being with a mansion full of servants, most of which didn't want to be there. But he's got some kind of power over death and has bound them there, so they can't leave his employ even if they die. They'd just come back.

Naturally this has resulted in an environment where the chores get done, but the servants keep murdering each other. And then doing it again the next day. He's fine with it so long as they clean up the mess.

And he's still not sure if the maids really, really hate each other or if this is some kind of sex thing. They seem to be having a lot of fun, even if they them have to do more work to get the blood out of the carpets.

One day they ask him to perform their wedding. They want to both wear white so it'll show the blood better. Instead of rings, they're giving each other knives. And his last line in officiating their wedding is "you may now kill the bride". (he set it up so that instead of the usual place, they'll resurrect in the honeymoon suite at the local village's best inn.

He's a little unsettled by this. I mean, he may be a necromancer who is more familiar with death than most, but they're taking it a little far. He considers death a business partner, they're jumping into death's arms, and only braking the French kiss to ask for a threesome.

He's decimated nations, raized villages, and torn life from the body of men, women, and children alike... But those maids are doing something they manages to disturb even him. They're just having too much fun with it. Death isn't supposed to be fun, damn it! He's a cackling skull on a vampiric body whose every touch brings the cold silence of the grave, and even he doesn't have THAT much fun with death!

He sips his coffee and shakes his head. The living!

[miley1442111]

safe- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)

summary: you become an unsubs target

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body. 

What happened? 

You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?

You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica. 

“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”

You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms. 

“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?” 

You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”

“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered. 

“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”

“Always.”

You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?

God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there. 

Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack. 

“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”

“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again. 

“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong. 

“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off. 

“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen. 

“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride. 

“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen. 

A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you. 

You didn’t pick up.

He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?

No answer again.

“Sir-”

“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?

“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer. 

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked. 

He could deal with them later. 

“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.

“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”

“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”

“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”

“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.

Where was Aaron? 

 “Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you. 

“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge. 

You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? Was Aaron ok? 

You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.

“I’m sorry too.” 

He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”

His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered.  

“I love you too.”

After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office. 

“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you. 

“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.

“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him. 

“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”

“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part. 

“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.

“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.

"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.

"Honey-"

"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."

Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."

"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.

"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.

"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.

"I'm so glad I'm here too."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're married?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.

`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.

"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.

The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.

All was well.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :)

[ash-says]

Survival 101 :

Buckle up your seatbelt darling because this is going to be triggering and one hell of a ride. Don't expect mushy from me. Might do it when tapped in my soft girl era but today I feel like a Villain.

1) Keep your mouth shut where you don't hold the power. No power no expressed opinions that can put you in trouble.

2) Learn manipulation and seduction skills. This will help you to detect when someone is trying to manipulate and seduce you. Saves a lot of drama and heartache.

3) Fight back strategically. We don't want to lose a job, a degree certificate, a bruise on your body,etc depending on your situation.

4) Facts over emotions. Always.

5) 90% of older men are creepy. Speaking from experience here. Play with them by ear. Get what you want by being polite and respectful but if they try to harass you or take advantage we turn Medusa on them or if you are not in a position to fight and walk out safe just play cutesy and shy and dumb. Ask him what he means and do not take a word said by him seriously. Dodge his advances like your life depends on it until you get an opening to run for the hills.

6) Snap out of delusions and pay attention to reality. People are not what you make them out to be they are what they show you. Stop making excuses for them.

7) Anxiety can be crippling. Panic attacks are the worst but no matter what happens try your level best to never show them publicly. Men are vultures and vulnerable women are easy prey for men.

8) That one friend who is all sweet to you and is your bff but anything positive happens in your life and suddenly starts becoming passive aggressive. Not your friend. Don't share any secrets. Best to be kept as an acquaintance.

9) Develop sarcasm and don't be afraid to put self entitled bitches and bastards in their place. Better being called a 'Mean Girl' over a 'Doormat'.

10) Bully back the bullies. It's 2024 sweetie we don't wait for an opportunity for revenge we fucking create it.

11) No matter how tough your life is going everyone shouldn't be getting a broadcast about it. At least not by your own mouth. Try to act as put together as you can.

12) Kindness is virtue but being apathetic saves you. Don't be the fool who bleeds through the stabs of the same knives again and again. "Because I can't see them in pain. I have a heart." Babygirl you have a life too. All that emotional stress is going to result in some serious problems in the upcoming years.

13) Learn when to quit. The most emotionally intelligent people I know are great quitters. They know when it's the end of an era.

14) Never disclose your family issues to outsiders. Until and unless a person has proved their loyalty to you year after year only those selected one or two people should know your domestic issues. Anyone else knowing it is like having a good gossip for tea time.

15) Lastly, there are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour.

[witchesverse]

brainwashed

pairing: dark!agatha x fem!reader

summary/request: Could you write a dark!Agatha Harkness x reader where she brainwashes you to make you her partner + if it is possible dub/noncon + smut

content: noncon, brainwashing, manipulation, kidnapping, virginity taking, pain, face slapping, pussy eating, crying, being thrown into a wall, begging.

a/n: sorry i know u asked for smut but i wanted to focus more on the brainwashing part :(( there is some smut but its not long

masterlist

"Don't you feel, I don't know, guilty for doing what you're doing?"

Agatha raised a brow and pursed her lips at Wanda's question. The younger witch shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and adverted her eyes to the ground.

"Guilty for giving her a better life?"

"For brainwashing her, Agatha."

Agatha bit her tongue. She hated when people used the word brainwashing to describe her relationship with you.

"She's perfectly content here. Why does it matter?"

"Of course, it matters!" Wanda snapped, "Y/n doesn't get to make her own decisions anymore and she doesn't get to think for herself."

"What?" Your voice caused both women's heads to snap in your direction.

Agatha's face morphed into anger before relaxing. She spread her legs and patted her thigh, which you gladly took a seat on. Her arm wrapped around your waist and she pulled you into her.

Wanda muttered a quiet apology before standing and leaving Agatha's house.

"What did Wanda mean by that?" You questioned.

Agatha laughed, "She's just had too much to drink, dear. You know how ditzy she becomes."

You nodded, wanting to trust Agatha but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. A dreadful feeling coursed through your body, but you didn't know why.

-

You woke with a gasp.

You remembered everything.

You met Agatha in the bar bathroom. You were drunk and high out of your mind, but she scared you enough for you to be able to recall the memory. Even as you fought her, she took your virginity and promised that she would be back for you.

You went to the police about her but they had no files on anyone with her description. You almost believed that you imagined the entire thing.

That was until she kidnapped you.

She didn't immediately place you under her spell, but after your fourth escape, she did. And ever since then, you've been brainwashed into thinking that you have been married to Agatha for centuries.

You glanced at Agatha's sleeping form and felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Whilst sleeping, she seemed sweet and harmless, but you knew she was a monster.

You carefully slipped out of bed and gathered a small bag of clothes. You needed to escape.

"Don't you fucking dare."

Magic wrapped around your body and threw you into the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs. You coughed and gasped for air as Agatha stalked towards you, purple energy dancing around her fingers.

"You're a sick fucking bastard." You spat.

The back of Agatha's hand collided with your cheek and you fought tears from pooling in your eyes. She scoffed like she was disgusted with you.

"You love it, don't lie."

"How the fuck can I love something if I can't even make my own decisions?" You screamed, not caring who heard you. "I'm not content or happy here. Wanda was right, you should feel-"

Your words got stuck in your throat as unbearable pain spread throughout your body. It felt like someone was piercing your body with thousands of knives whilst your body was set ablaze.

The pain continued until your vision started to speckle black and you were on the verge of passing out.

Agatha picked up your limb body from the floor and placed you on the bed. She hummed softly as she removed your clothing and kissed your bare skin.

You recognised the words she was humming and thrashed in her hold. Agatha was trying to put you back under her spell. Agatha tsked and her magic pinned your limbs down.

"Agatha, please." You cried, "Let me go."

Agatha ignored you and kissed your clit before wrapping her lips around it and sucking softly. The humming stopped, but magic encased her fingers, continuing the spell.

There was no point in fighting her, but that didn't stop you from squirming uncontrollably. You tried to kick her in the face and screamed in frustration when you couldn't move.

"You're fucking evil." You snarled, which pulled a chuckle from Agatha.

"You should meet my ex, sweetheart. I'd be considered kind compared to her."

"I'm surprised you even have an ex. You aren't loveable."

Agatha smiled but didn't say anything in response. It almost looked like you had hit a nerve.

A wave of comfort and peace washed over you. Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed. You should just give into her. Life was difficult before her.

No, No. These aren't your thoughts. They're her thoughts being injected into your brain, right? Your life before her was great! You had thousands of dollars of student debt, you were barely able to afford your bills, and you were struggling with friendships.

No, that's not right. Your life was good, wasn't it? You used to live at your cottage and sell vegetables to local farmers. But your life was better once Agatha, an abandoned and hurt witch, showed up to your door and was seeking refuge.

Those pesky villagers were hunting her down with their pitch forks. They wanted to hang her and burn her body. Such wretched, horrible people. It was the 1800s for crying out loud! Surely, people would start to realise witches' aren't that bad.

Agatha is the love of your life. She is everything you will ever need and you are destined to be with her forever.

Wait, what were you just thinking about? Was it about what you were making for dinner? You think so.

"My love?"

Your heart fluttered at Agatha's voice and you smiled. You cupped her face and kissed her softly.

"I think I might be coming down with a cold, Aggie." You rested your forehead against hers. "My body is aching and I feel so confused."

Agatha hummed, "How about we take a warm bath together?"

You gladly took Agatha's hand as she helped you to your feet. There was no questioning to why you were nude as that happened time to time; it just made it quicker to bathe.

"I'd love that."

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: Asshole Theo?

Summary: You wish you never woke up.

Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!

< 6

__________________

“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today. 

“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up. 

“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support. 

You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position. 

“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it. 

“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out. 

“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.

___________________

A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion. 

What the hell.

He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.

Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned. 

“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her. 

“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities. 

“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.

“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff. 

“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names. 

“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”

“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed. 

He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her. 

“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face. 

What an annoying girl. 

He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake. 

“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo. 

“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him. 

“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth. 

“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo. 

“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck. 

“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck. 

“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast. 

“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response. 

“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.” 

Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.

The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.” 

“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise. 

“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. 

Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him. 

“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again. 

Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up. 

But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo. 

Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl. 

“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone. 

“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins. 

Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?” 

Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well. 

“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him. 

Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho. 

Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around. 

Maybe he deserved that. 

[lavenders388]

i've been hooked on squid games recently, could you possibly do one of the guards or the frontman protecting the reader from dying in a game?? bonus points if the reader gets hurt. please and thank you!! no pressure at all ofc! good luck with college!!

~One Lucky Day~

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ Pink Soldier x Reader

requested 💌

a/n: sorry for being super slow writing its for the silliest reason ever! my hard gel nails are grown the fuck out and its SO hard to type expect like one million fics in a row when i get these mf knives taken off of my fingers here in a few days!!! as always thank you for all the support!!!<3 -matcha

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ As you were led through the sickeningly colorful halls- an almost disrespectful contrast to the dark place you found yourself in, your mind raced uncontrollably about what the next game would be. You worried, like everyone else, about whether you would be able to survive and move forward. you looked around as you climbed the pink staircase. noticing how many men there were compared to women. your stomach began to turn thinking about how difficult it would be to compete against those who appeared to be much stronger than you. you tried to calm yourself; thinking about how during the previous game you had an advantage by being able to stop easily and stay balanced. you hoped that in this game strength wouldn't be much of a factor.

as you entered the game hall, your mind began to race a little less. "this doesn't look like it'll be too bad for me." you thought, noticing that there wasn't a whole lot that the set gave away; just two rainbow circles. "it looks like a track, maybe this will be more like red light green light again." you pondered; the thought of a more agility-based game making you feel more confidently. the recorded voice echoed within the hall as you were instructed to form groups of 5. The thought of being in a group also aided in soothing your fears, knowing that whatever ability you lacked there were other players with you to make up for it.

you eventually found your group, finding it hard to be accepted due to not being male. your group- 3 women and 2 men- ended up being picked to go dead last. you all breathed a sigh of relief- agreeing that this could be a very good thing, you weren't going first, and you had the most time to prepare. you all got to practice your individual mini-games, and you were able to calculate what the other players struggled with more and how to better handle that without wasting too much time. as you and the rest of the crowd cheered for the other groups, you began to feel more confident about the game.

finally, it was time for the two last groups to compete. you were happy to be closer to the end of this horrible place, but you trembled with the thought of what would happen if your group wasn't time-efficient enough. the other group- very kindly you thought- agreed that they would be cheering you on and you them; referencing to the lack of cheering crowd the other groups had. this gesture made you feel supported- and ready to compete in what would hopefully be the last game before you got to leave.

as your group moved through all of the mini-games, your heart sank realizing how little time you all had to spare. "fuck." you thought to yourself; not wanting to scare the rest of your team. "okay, we can't afford to mess up on this last one." you said to the man about to attempt the last game. you tried to sound encouraging. to hide your fear in a way that might help that man. with 5 seconds on the clock, you watched the other team cheer in relief as they completed the game and got to leave. your team wouldn't make it, your skin crawling as you came to the sinking realization.

five... four... three... two... one... you barely heard the recording counting down what you believed to be your last seconds on this earth. you wanted to cry, but you didn't have the time to even do that. as you watched your teammates fall to the ground, you expected the same fate to become of yourself. you felt a bullet graze the side of your upper shoulder; the pain sinking into the muscle like fire traveling through each of your veins. the pain almost distracted you from the conversation you began to overhear as you lied on the rainbow ground with your fallen teammates.

"i missed on purpose so that they'll be fresh." you heard coming from one of the masked guards. "fresh? what the fuck does he mean fresh?" you thought, the type of fear racing within you amounting to more than you've ever felt before. "okay, load them all up like normal." you heard from another guard as the pink-bowed coffins began to be lifted onto the ground beside you. you felt yourself being uncuffed; gently. and then loaded into the coffin. "don't worry. trust me." you almost didn't hear it as he said it so quietly under his breath as you were lowered with care into the coffin.

the lid was closed but not stapled shut like the rest. you didn't get moved either. time stood still as the rest of the guards left with the other coffins. after what felt like hours but was most likely only a few seconds, you saw the lid opening.

"hey just stay quiet, don't freak out or try to run. please just trust me." came softly from the only guard left in the room. you didn't know what it was, maybe just the desperation of having nothing else to do, or maybe it was his voice that made you trust him almost immediately. you lifted yourself out of the box that was supposed to be the last thing that ever touched your body. gingerly, as to not upset the gash on your shoulder. you winced, catching his attention as he began to help you up.

"why- why did you save me? i lost the game." you said, your voice trembling in shock and as the pain traveled up your arm. "i don't know." he said, soundly almost as scared as you were. "I'm so fucking sorry i shot you." your eyes met his, he looked to be near your age. his face was young and soft, with short black hair. he was the type of guy that if you weren't in this place, you would have considered going up to him to ask for his number or something along those lines. "thank you, so much." you said genuinely, your voice softening as you assessed that the situation was safe.

"what do we do now?" you asked him, even though it didn't look like he knew for himself. "ill patch your arm up, and ill lead you back to the other players when its lights out." your second chance at life was shocking; a bit disappointing that you still had to go back to the games. you found yourself not wanting to level him.

"what about you?" you questioned as he began to gently wrap some gauze around the wound on your arm. "ill be okay, they thought you went with the rest of the coffins, and they don't really seem to care about what happens to the players once they've been eliminated." you tried not to think about the last part of his answer. "will i see you again?" you asked, without really thinking about it. you weren't sure how to properly express your gratitude to the stranger who had saved you, and a part of you twinged with sadness about the thought of never looking into his brown eyes again.

"ill look after you in the games." he stated in a way that made you know full-heartedly that he meant it; and would do so.

as he walked you back to the hall you once dreaded returning to, you found yourself no longer feeling any fear at all.