#i'm weak i kno i kno

[boxwinebaddie]

so...rem(ember) when i thought being parasidic ( which i AM the goddamn parasite, try it AGAIN, you trick ass bitch! ), a shitdick my neck, my back-teria ( hi teri xx ) infection and wanted to get so deep into my unfinished insane asylum ( but v sexc, sank ya VERY much! ) fanfiction i accidentally ate a light bulb ( like, Lighten Up! Damn! ) and raw-dogged life so i could be punk af and #metal like baevenstan and Hard As A Mothafucka like jk-47 and i thought that was the WORST THING that could possibly happen to me????? WEEEELLL...

everyone...is gonna have to be extra extra nice to me, kiss uncle nina on the cheek ( not YOU God!!!! you!!!!! yOU!!! can kiss my ASS CHEEK AND SUCK MY MASSIVE FUCKIN RINGALADONG BITCh!!! )

and give me a pass on being Jennifer Slowpez at answerin my asks ( my brothers in christ...is That why that shit takes me fkn FIVEVER??? uuuUUuglLY!!! take it BACK, FRAUD!!! QUICKLY!!! ) and my writing being so Shit lately, that even the TOLIET won't take it...

bECaauSE...haha…

my mri came my neck ( myneck! ) my bACk ( myback! ),

i have a Benign...Uncle Wo(Men)Ninagioma, i guess... :)

my necK, MY WHACKKKKKKKKK!!!

LICK MY FUCKIN ASS CRACK LIKE qhwhAT THGEFU-

i mean...Sick! <3

Slay OLAY! xx Thx G-MAN! :*

-- so no head? ;)

[dernarrleid]

ya'll I'm still here, I'm just in the thick of it.

[hoe4hotchner]

Extra Credit | [A.H]

Pairing: Professor!Hotch x fem!Reader CW: 18+, MDNI, coerced sexual activity, power imbalance, emotional manipulation, dubious consent, degradation and humiliation, age gap, student/professor, dom/sub dynamic, praise, (L/N) used once, no use of (Y/N). The smut in this is "just" a blowjob. WC: 2,9k

My dumb ass had to look up the american grading system cause we use a 7 point grading scale of numbers where I'm from. ---- Also alsoalso, i feel kind of evil with this one 😅

@ssamorganhotchner my love I will dedicate this fic to you cause your scream into the void made me finish it. 🤭🤭

           The lecture had been another brutal session, his lectures were always hard to get through, and you could still hear Mr. Hotchner’s voice echoing in your mind, sharp and cutting. His presence dominated the room - a force impossible to ignore - and it rattled you in a way no other professor ever had. Every question he posed felt like a challenge, every glance in your direction seemed to monitor your every move. The pressure in his class had been mounting for weeks now, suffocating and relentless as you tried your hardest to keep up with your studies.

           The other students had already packed up and left, the sounds of hurried footsteps and rustling papers fading as they filtered out of the lecture hall. You were just about to follow when his voice called out, stopping you in your tracks.

           "Miss (L/N), a moment, please."

           His tone was steady. There was no warmth, only command - one you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to. Swallowing thickly, your pulse quickened as you turned to face him. Mr. Hotchner stood at the front of the room, his eyes locked onto you, persistent and unreadable. You’d seen that look before - the one that pierced through you, as if he were dissecting every inch of your character, sizing up your worth.

           "Come to my office," he continued, already gathering his notes. "There’s something we need to discuss."

           You nodded, a knot forming in your stomach. You knew exactly what this was about: the last test. The one you felt like you'd bombed so spectacularly, despite staying up all night cramming. Panic twisted in your chest as you hastily grabbed your things, every step toward his office feeling heavier like you were marching to your doom.

           When you arrived at his office, he was already seated behind his desk, his posture straight, his face calm yet calculating. His office was an extension of him - neat, organized, cold - the only warmth coming from the mahogany furniture decorating the room. You hesitated at the door, but when his eyes met yours, pinning you in place, you stepped inside without a word.

           "Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

           Your legs felt weak as you obeyed, sinking into the chair. The room seemed smaller now, the silence oppressive. The only sound was the rush of your own panicked heartbeat in your ears.

           Mr. Hotchner reached for the paper on his desk - your test - and slid it across the table toward you. Your eyes dropped to it, the red ink scrawled across the page like a string of wounds, culminating in the bold, unforgiving "F" circled at the top. The sight of it made your stomach drop.

           "Care to explain this?" His voice was low and direct, but there was an edge to it: disappointment, authority, judgment maybe.

           You opened your mouth, but no words came out. What could you say? You had failed. There was no excuse, no way to justify how badly you’d done, no matter how hard you’d tried.

           "I... I’m sorry," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I really did try, I-"

           His sharp gaze cut you off before you could finish. His expression hardened. "Trying isn’t enough, Miss. In this class, you’re expected to succeed. Effort without results means nothing to me." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes boring into you. "You know that, don’t you?"

           You nodded quickly, your throat tight with panic. "Yes, Professor. I just... I don’t know what happened."

           Mr. Hotchner sighed, sitting back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk as his eyes flicked over you, assessing your every reaction. "This isn’t the first time your performance has been subpar," he mused, almost to himself. "But I’m not inclined to hand out second chances freely. You understand that, don’t you?"

           Your pulse quickened, and you grabbed the edges of the chair, trying to steady yourself. You needed this class to pass. Your entire academic path hinged on it. "Please, Sir," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. "I’ll do anything to make up for this. I just..."

           Hotch raised a brow, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it held no warmth. "Anything, Miss?" His tone shifted, becoming darker, more sinister. He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on the desk, fingers steepled in front of him, his eyes locking onto yours.

           You froze, the weight of that single word hanging heavy in the air between you. Something in his gaze made your skin prickle, a cold realization settling over you, though you still didn’t fully understand what he meant.

           "There are ways," he said, almost absently, his eyes never leaving you. "To improve your grade. But... no, you wouldn’t want to do that."

           The soft, almost indifferent tone only made the tension worse, as if he were toying with the idea, considering something dark and unspoken. His eyes - steady and determined - never left yours, trapping you beneath the weight of his scrutiny. A shiver crawled up your spine, the walls of the small office seeming to close in as his stare held you in place, daring you to speak, to challenge the unspoken hint buried in his words. The air thickened, stifling, and at that moment, you realized you were no longer sitting across from your professor but a man who held all the power - and he knew it.

           "Please, Sir... anything." Your voice lingered on the verge of tears. Your stomach churned as you began to realize the gravity of the situation, the dark current running beneath his words. But it was too late. You’d already sealed your fate.

           The tension in the room thickened as Mr. Hotchner leaned back in his chair, his eyes eyeing you, estimating just what he could get you to do. His silence stretched, but you felt the shift - something in him had clicked, and it set your pulse racing with a mix of fear and something unnameable.

           He moved slowly, deliberately, pushing his chair back just enough to make space. He gestured to the small gap between him and the desk. "Come here," he said, his voice low, the command unquestionable.

           You hesitated, your legs trembling slightly as you stood, heart pounding so hard you swore he could hear it. He didn’t rush you, just watched as you took one small, uncertain step forward, then another, until you were standing directly between his legs. His proximity sent a jolt of awareness through you, your body hyperaware of the heat radiating from him - too close.

           Mr. Hotchner's hand reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric of your skirt before settling on your hip, guiding you into place with a firm grip. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. You felt trapped, pinned between him and the desk, with nowhere to escape as his other hand came to rest on the small of your back, pulling you even closer. The space between you vanished, and you swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat.

           You could feel his gaze, assessing, waiting for you to protest, to pull away - but you didn’t. Something about the smoothness of his words kept you intrigued. His control was absolute, the imbalance between you undeniable, and yet… you found yourself rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to think of anything but him and the way his hands felt against your skin.

           "There are certain things you’re willing to do," he said softly, his voice carrying a darker edge now. "Aren’t there?"

           You nodded, barely able to find your voice, the room spinning as his hand slid lower on your back, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming, suffocating, and you realized with a sinking feeling that you were already too far gone to turn back now.

           Mr. Hotchner's gaze remained fixed on you as he maneuvered you with practiced ease. His grip on your hip tightened slightly, guiding you down until you were kneeling on the floor before him. The cold tile pressed against your knees, sending a shiver through you, but Mr. Hotchner's presence was a warm, commanding contrast.

           “That’s it,” he said, his voice rich with approval as you settled into the position he directed. “You’re doing well.”

           The praise made the tension more bearable yet, it came with an edge of something darker, something that made you shiver despite the heat pooling between you. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, and saw the way they softened just a touch, but only enough to keep you vulnerable.

           His hand moved with deliberate care, stroking the length of your hair. The soft, almost caressing touch was a strange contrast to the authority he exerted. “You’re very obedient,” Mr. Hotchner said, his tone almost gentle now, but there was an unmistakable command in his words. “And you know, I do appreciate that.” The warmth of his hand was soothing but carried with it an undercurrent of power, leaving you both comforted and apprehensive. “I can see you’re trying to do what it takes to improve.”

           He shifted slightly, his chair creaking as he leaned forward a bit, the fabric of his suit brushing against you. “You’re very dedicated,” he said softly, his eyes roaming over you with a mixture of satisfaction and something else you couldn’t quite place. “And I have to admit, it’s not something I see in my students very often.”

           Your breath quickened as his praise continued, his words a strange mix of encouragement and control that made you feel simultaneously uplifted and trapped. It confused you. The power he held over you was noticeable, his authority unchallenged as you knelt before him, feeling the weight of his gaze.

           “You’re willing to do whatever it takes,” Mr. Hotchner continued his hand now gently stroking the top of your head. “That’s very impressive. Most students wouldn’t go this far.”

           The air between you was thick with his dominance, the atmosphere heavy with the unspoken promises and threats that lingered in his words. His praise was both a comfort and a chain, binding you to him in a way that left you breathless and anxious for what was to come.

           Mr. Hotchner guided you to unbuckle his belt, watching as you hooked your fingers through the loop, carefully removing it and unzipping his pants. You kept looking up at him for reassurance, waiting for a nod of approval to continue. You gently grabbed the elastic waistband and slowly pulled his underwear down, revealing his thick, erect cock. It sprang free, long, and veined, with a bulky head already glistening with pre-cum. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp at the sight of it.

           “Go on,” he urged. “Show me how much you want that grade.”

           With a slight nod, you leaned forward and extended your tongue, delicately licking the tip of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness. Mr. Hotchner let out a soft groan, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. Encouraged by his reaction, you opened your mouth and took just the head into your warm, wet mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

           “Fuck, that’s it,” he whispered, his hand gripping your neck, guiding your movements. “Suck it, take it deep.” He growled.

           You obeyed, slowly taking more of his length into your mouth, your lips sliding down his shaft. You moaned softly around his cock, the vibrations driving him wild. Mr. Hotchner's hand moved to the back of your head, gently holding you in place as he began to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.

           “You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice hoarse with desire. “But I want more. I want to feel that tight throat of yours.”

           Eager to please, you relaxed your throat and took him deeper, your nose pressing into his pubic hair. You felt his cock hit the back of your throat, you gagged and coughed around him. Mr. Hotchner stilled for a brief moment as he let you adjust to the new position of his cock in your throat.

           As Mr. Hotchner's hand started gently caressing your hair once again, his other hand slowly shifted, a deliberate movement that drew your attention away from the soothing strokes. He let you take over, expecting you to continue pleasuring. His fingers, initially tender and reassuring, began to trace down the side of your neck, brushing lightly against the fabric of your blouse.

           “You’re doing very well,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. The praise seemed to be more about control than genuine encouragement, keeping you bound in a trance by his spell. The warmth of his hand became more insistent.

           You felt a shiver run down your spine as his hand moved with purpose, sliding along the curve of your shoulder and then lower. His fingers grazed the edge of your skirt, teasing the hem as they explored the fabric. The contact was both alarming and electric, the smoothness of his touch in stark contrast to the pressure of his gaze.

           “Such dedication,” Hotch continued, his tone almost contemplative. His fingers lingered at the edge of your skirt, the touch becoming more deliberate as he traced along the hem. “It’s rare to find someone so willing to go above and beyond.”

           The way his hand inched closer to the soft material of the front of your skirt, it made you acutely aware of the shift in the atmosphere. His touch, though light and seemingly casual, was charged with an intensity that left you on edge. The skirt felt suddenly like a barrier between you and him, a fragile line that he was now exploring with calculated movements.

           He pushed his fingers past the waistband; they were cold as they brushed against your stomach, slowly moving down toward your clothed heat. Mr. Hotchner tutted as he brushed his fingers against your folds, the soaking wet fabric leaving a slick trail on his fingers.

           “You naughty girl,” he mocked. “Do you feel that? The way your body reacts to my touch? How long have you been aching for this kind of attention?” He grinned, his fingers expertly drawing out mewls from you as you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand.

           You felt the way his cock twitched against your tongue, convulsing with every movement, every lick and suck. Mr. Hotchner could feel it too, his climax nearing. He moved his hands to the back of your head, holding you still as he flexed his muscles. You whined around him at the sudden loss of touch on your pussy.

           “Don’t be greedy,” he hissed through gritted teeth, fucking your mouth with such force that all you could do was stay still and relax your throat, trying your best to keep breathing through your nose.

           “Yes, that’s it, take it all,” he grunted, his hips moving faster now, driving his cock down your throat with each thrust. “Oh fuck, I’m close,” Mr. Hotchner groaned, his hips jerking as he came, emptying himself down your throat. You swallowed around him, taking every drop, your eyes never leaving his, a satisfied smile on his face.

           “Look at this mess you made,” he tutted, pulling his cock out of your mouth. The few drops of cum mixed with your saliva glistened under the light. “Now, clean it up.” He scooted his chair closer to the desk, effectively caging you in. “I have papers to grade.”

           You slowly started licking the shaft with small kitten licks as you made your way from the base to the head. You were scared he wouldn't pass you if you didn't follow his orders. Mr. Hotcher paid no attention to you whatsoever. You felt humiliated as you sat under his desk, his thoughts elsewhere as you mindlessly followed his demands. The sound of your tongue mixed with the slight scratching of his pen scribbling on the papers in front of him were the only sounds in the room.

           When you finished, the room seemed even smaller than when you'd entered, the walls closer than before. You sat back on your haunches, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as you tried to process what had just happened, your mind swirling in confusion and shame.

           Mr. Hotchner leaned back, his expression calm, his eyes glittering with a smug satisfaction that made your skin crawl. You were about to ask what he would change your grade to, feeling you had at least deserved a D for the effort. But Mr. Hotcher sensed your question before you even opened your mouth.

           “Don’t think so fast, dear,” he said smoothly, his voice like ice on your skin. “Good grades cost more than that.”

           Your stomach twisted painfully, and you glanced up at him, unsure how to respond, your voice catching in your throat. You wanted to believe this nightmare was over, that you’d somehow paid your dues and could walk out of his office with your dignity intact.

           But Mr. Hotchner wasn’t finished with you. He regarded you coolly, one brow arching as he tilted his head slightly, watching your every reaction with dark amusement.

           “Same time next week?” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question - it was an expectation, a demand disguised as a polite inquiry.

           You nodded, the movement slow and uncertain, the weight of his gaze making you feel trapped, cornered. “Okay… sir,” you whispered, your voice small and fragile.

           His smile deepened, satisfied, and gently patted your cheek. “Good girl.”

[scientia-rex]

Hi Dr. Kristophine, do you have any advice on what kind of information doctors need for medical issues that are more nebulous than "my knees hurt"? I've been feeling Weird and Bad in a way that has me concerned, but I'm afraid to make an appointment because I don't know what to say that will get the Weird and Bad feeling across in an actionable way. Going to the doctor takes SO much energy that I don't have to waste and I don't want them to just take a blood test and say everything's fine go home (again).

The best thing you can do with medical information you're trying to prepare for your medical provider, as a lay person, is be as specific as possible.

-Location: Is it one place in particular, or everywhere? Does it stay in one place, or move around?

-Timing: When did it start? Did it come on suddenly or slowly? Does it happen continuously? Does it come and go? Is it always there to some extent, but it gets better and worse? On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being fine and 10 being the worst you can imagine, how bad is it at its best, and how bad is it at its worst? How much time does it spend really bad vs only kind of bad?

-Quality: If it's pain, is it aching, burning, stabbing, dull, electrical zap, etc.? If it's not pain, what is it? Is it discomfort? Is it weakness--i.e., you can't do that thing? Is it fatigue--like maybe you can still push through doing the thing but it feels like you're trying to wade through mud to do it? Is it a racing heart, sweating, pressure?

-Triggers: Does something in particular set it off? A time of day, a food, an action, a medication, a thought? A surprisingly common trigger for migraines is sitting still with your neck in one position. (New research suggests that necks are critical to migraine formation, to which I yelled out loud at the paper, no duh!) There may be triggers you haven't noticed; try keeping a symptom diary, where you note down when you have episodes and what you were doing beforehand, what you ate that day, menstrual phase, etc. Any detail that you can remember, whether or not it seems relevant at the time.

I cannot tell you how many times I've dug deeper into a chronic issue only to discover that the patient can, in fact, tell me what the trigger is, but because it's something important to them, they simply haven't noticed. May subconsciously even avoided noticing. Do you get migraines every time you DM? Do you need to work a stretch break into your D&D session?

There can also absolutely be multiple triggers--I know I'll get migraines if I don't sleep, if I'm sick, if I sit still for too long, if I have dental work, etc.

So bring in all the info you can. Write it down if you're afraid you'll forget. Don't hand it to the MA, too many doctors will go "oh my GOD they brought a LIST how high-maintenance" and tune out. Hang on to it but tell them about everything.

I don't expect patients to be able to tell me "I believe I've had a left radial styloid fracture" but I do expect them to tell me "I fell and tried to catch myself with my left hand and now my wrist hurts," and that's good enough. The rest of it is my job. When it's something more vague, like "I started feeling different and bad about six months ago," any other information helps. Did you start a new med around then? Are you going through menopause? Do you struggle with anxiety? Do you have first-degree relatives (parent, sibling, or child) with genetic disorders, autoimmune disorders, etc.? Do you have a history of anemia? Are you vegan? Have you started having night sweats and unexplained weight loss? Did you recently travel internationally? This can go a lot more different directions than a hurty wrist, so bring in all the info you can.

And keep in mind that modern medicine is very limited--much more so than most people think. There is an excellent chance that medicine will not be able to diagnose your condition. It may still be able to offer treatment. It may fall on your shoulders to manage it as best you can, knowing that doctors don't have answers. Nobody can tell me why I have chronic pain, and I don't mean as in "I've asked doctors and they don't know," I mean "I've personally scoured the literature and had the relevant and appropriate tests and no one can know at this phase of medical knowledge." So I deal with it, I've stopped trying to push myself past my reserves because people who can't admit to ignorance tell me to, I keep my painful body moving because that helps, I do PT, I take a multivitamin occasionally because I know my diet sucks. I manage.

There are not always right or wrong answers--I don't take gabapentin, because I don't want the sedation and kidney exposure, but patients with my exact symptoms might find it helpful and may find the risks and costs worth the benefits. My mother, who has whatever it is that I have, right down to the tricky stomach, from whom I presumably inherited it, has taken medication at different points in her life, depending on how much pain she was in and what other responsibilities she has, and that is perfectly reasonable. Autonomy matters. People have to be able to make these choices for themselves, with assistance but not paternalism from their medical professionals, because the math is different for everyone.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

what about a story where Alphonse’s listener has always had dark hair and one day they decided to surprise Al and so without telling him they go to a salon and get their hair dyed the same color as him, then when they come home and see him again they say “ now we are both bubble gum!” 🩷

this has always been a thought in the back of my mind

Bubble gum couple.

I think I'd do this right but I think I yapped too much-

Boo smiled to themselves as they walked into the salon, smiling at their stylus they always go too. The older woman, Sherald, greeting them with a warm smile and began chatting about gossip she gathered.

"Remember how I told you there was a new girl in town? Turns out she's been seeing Lidia's nephew! Awe they are SO cute. Reminds me a bit of you and your candy man!" Giggling, Sherald picked up some scissors and a comb.

"Really? Well I'm actually here to do a little surprise for him! Remember how I was talking about dying my hair a different color? I was thinking about doing the same as his!" Excitedly saying Boo showed a picture to Lidia. The older woman nodded and turned to a counter grabbing pink and purple. Then grabbing other materials to prep your hair with to dye your hair that nice pink.

"Awe! You and sugar man are so cute! Ugh, your the couple I wanna be like. Sadly no man can hold me down! Haha!" Laughing at herself Lidia put the apron on you to cover your shirt. Grabbing the bleach to began the process of doing your hair.

"Yeah we know Lidia! Your a strong headed woman. No man in this town would try getting with you!" Another stylus said giggling as she finished a blow out for a woman. The one who made the witty comment was Kris, who was Lidia's sister.

"Oh hush you! These men in this town have weak spines with someone who will argue back." Huffing as she waved her hand without a care, then turned to Boo with a bog smile. "Now sweetie, we know this'll take all morning so you got a clear schedule right?"

Boo nodded smiling listening to the two sisters argue over the older ones personality. Closing their eyes Boo felt comfort as the gray haired woman started parting their hair.

Chatting was heard around the salon as more woman came in. Adding into the conversation that started on about one of the older woman finally admitting she cheated. Who could blame her? The man she was shackled too was a dick.

Boo flipped through a magazine as they waited for their hair to dry in the big hairdryer. So far the process had been long but seeing Alphonse's reaction will be worth it. And speak of the devil, the door bell chimes as the pastel pink waled through.

"Oh? And what do I owe the pleasure of the candy man being in my salon?" Giggling Lidia opened her arms and shared a quick hug. Alphonse laughed and smiled at her before asking.

"Have you seen Boo? They haven't texted me back in a while and I kno- Oh! Boo there you are!" Happily saying Alphonse walked to where Boo sat. Looking at the hairdryer and then his partner with a confused look. "You gettin' your hair done?"

Boo nodded as they closed the magazine and heard Lidia chime that they can get off of the hairdryer. Smiling as Kris who helped get their head wrap off. Shaking their hair a bit, Boo turned and smiled at Alphonse.

"What do you think? Now were both bubble gum!" Giggling Boo saw Alphonse smile widely and opened his mouth.

"Holy shit Boo! You look so good!" Complementing, Alphonse giggled at the comment Boo made about both of you being bubble gum.

Thanking Lidia and then pating the both of you walked out the salon. Boo then gasped before explaining all the drama they heard during their appointment. With their boyfriend enjoying every second of it as they both ate the bit of candy be brought.

[itsgrimeytime]

When it rains... || Rick Grimes (TWD)

And there it was.

The rain poured down from the skies, heavy and unrelentless -as a deep rumble echoed through the ground.

You'd been on a mini-run with Rick, he'd only let a few out of the camp -shelter was weak, and everyone was on the move. He didn't want to expose more than he needed to, and you frankly refused to let him go alone.

"Shit," he muttered, the door barely ajar -lighting up his face ever-so-slightly to the pouring rain.

In the normal world, rain hardly meant anything. But in this one, where treatment was desolate and sickness was easily aggressively excelled, it was a deal breaker.

You paused, fingers trailing along the dirty but intact windows -watching the rain spill down the glass, "Think it'll pass through?"

Rick bit his lip, shaking his head -eyes heavy on the pouring rain outside, "Looks too heavy to go anywhere now."

"Shit," you agreed, hearing the heavy downpour, "-you think we can stay here?"

"We 'ave to," he answered, sighing and rubbing along the bridge of his nose -worried.

"Hey, hey," you rushed up to him, rubbing your hands down his arms -hoping any sort of comfort would come from it, "-I'm sure they're fine. Daryl would've found a shelter, at least for the night."

Rick sighed, leaning his head forward to rest on your shoulder. You could feel the gentle puffs of air blooming across your skin from where he breathed -it made your heart beat just a touch faster.

Ever since the run-in with the Claimers, he'd been on edge -a ruthless edge. He hadn't let you so much as move from his side for weeks, never mind Judith and Carl.

"You always kno' the right thin' to say," he mumbled against your skin, as your fingers trailed to his hair -combing through the mess.

Part of you wished that you could take care of him like he so often took care of everyone else. You tried your best when you could get him to focus on anything but shelter, food, water, and safety.

You'd always hoped it helped.

"I try," you smiled, bringing up your other hand to brush over his scalp. Mindlessly counting the breaths he took against your skin, you dusted your fingers over his shoulders -detailing the stitching on his jacket.

He pushed into you just a little more, and you faltered in your step -tone light, "Rick, you wanna go somewhere more comfortable?"

He let out a low hum against your skin -lips brushing against the fabric of your shirt, you felt some goosebumps erupt in its place. Even now, he still affected you.

"Yeah," he finally replied, sitting up from your shoulder with a soft gaze steady in his eyes -he looked tired. So very tired.

You frowned, holding up your hands to the sides of his face -focusing his attention on you, "Have you been sleeping?"

"'Been tryin' to."

You sighed, leaning up to press a kiss on his cheek -slowly retracting your hands to link one with his own. He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb along the back of your palm, almost like a reassurance that you were there. Remembering a couch in the living room that had looked untouched by the outside world, you guided him behind you.

Without so much as an extra thought you laid down on the cushions -hand still loosely intertwined with his, you tugged gently. He was so soft then, so vulnerable that he merely followed the motion. Like putty in your hands, he trusted you.

You smiled, as he laid on top of you, head neatly on your chest -your fingers trailing through his curls, sorting out some knots with the gentlest of brushes. This was a special sort of occasion.

Sometimes, when the world would get too loud and all he could do was worry -he'd asked for this. And when you'd asked why this position specifically, he answered -tone muffled and tired but all too fond.

"I can hear your heartbeat, I know y'er alive."

You whispered, barely a breath -hoping to instill it into his head, soothe the worries that creased his brow, "I'm not going anywhere, Rick."

He scooted up, placing his lips on your collarbone -sweet, gentle, and domestic, "I kno', sweetheart."

You laughed a bit at the sensation, a familiar buzz echoing down your spine -as it always had done with Rick. Even before all this, when he'd just placed a hand on your shoulder and told you the plan for the day, or gently held your wrist to keep you from stepping forward on a run. (He always insisted to go first.) You still felt a sort of spark there, untamed and timid, but enough for you to know what it meant.

Rick only grinned at the nose, stubble tickling the exposed skin of your neck as he pressed more there. Only chaste ones that merely last a moment, gently moving your chin with his fingers (calloused from the days work) to get better access to each inch of skin.

You hummed at the affection, trying desperately to savor something so domestic, as your time dwindled. Being on the move meant fewer quiet moments like these, and being in the apocalypse had practically erased the idea of domesticity in your head. So, this was special, you'd try to remember it clearly.

And suddenly, Rick peeked up at you -through hazy blue eyes and a fond smile on his face that made your head spin just a smidge even today. A certain look you knew trailed there, you would've merely laughed at the circumstances if his face hadn't fallen rather serious.

"I love you."

Lips twitching up into a smile, you moved your hands to hold his face -carefully tracing some of the scars you could see there, "Do you, now? Or is that just because we're stuck here for the next few hours together?"

Rick rolled his eyes, leaning into your palms with rested ease and kissing them -like they were the most precious thing in the world. Like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"I love you too," you whispered back, as if the moment in front of you was breakable -blue eyes held on you like it was where they were supposed to be like they fit there.

He grinned, a teasing kind of smirk smoothing across his face -and you found that maybe the night wouldn’t be empty, "Thought so."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Growing Pains

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

This time, two stubborn rebels enter the kitchen! With Epel chasing the greatness of growing up, he gets ensnared in a scheme that Leona responsible is responsible for. Gordon’s definitely got his work cut out for him!! Can he truly connect with this strong-minded duo?

Why does Leona’s chef jacket look like it’s straining to keep his chest contained in like every fan art I see 😭 I'm happy that Epel gets to take Master Chef at the same time as his Magift Club Captain... He gets to hang out with his cool senpai one last time before I smush him into Epelsauce for pointing out L*ona's charm 🤡 (P.S. I totally believe that GR is a role model L*ona could benefit from…)

Imagine this…

Raising a saucer to his lips, Epel sipped, allowing a mildly sweet flavor to flatten across the tongue. Warmed on a low flame, the milk concoction was warm, but still thick and creamy. Nothin' beats full fat milk fresh off the farm, he noted, licking his lips.

Epel let out an excited whoop as he slammed his saucer down. "Hoo-WHEE! That's sum good stuff!!"

A groan sounded from another counter.

"Oi, frosh. Keep it down over there," Leona groused. He fiddled with his hair, sweeping back loose strands that hung free from his ponytail. The rest of his mane--and his lion ears--were uncomfortably crammed under a chef's hat.

"O-Oh, sorry!" Epel hurriedly apologized, giving a brief bow to his club captain. When he straightened again, he couldn't avoid taking note of his upperclassman's strong build.

Though the duo were in similar uniforms, Leona wore his very differently than Epel. He slouched slightly, yet the warm yellow of his jacket fit him like a glove, easily conforming to the shape of his muscled body. By comparison, Epel was smaller and far less shapely. A twinge of sadness pulled in his chest.

Standing the two side-by-side, they were like lion and kitten. One regal and confident, the other meek and weak.

Epel furiously shook his head. He smacked both of his cheeks to wake himself up. Chin up, Epel! Take this chance to learn how you can be more like Leona-senpai...!

He glanced over at the various bowls littering Leona’s workstation.

I wonder what he’s making…? It must be something cool.

The beastman hovered over them, glancing over the contents of each bowl lackadaisically. Plump blueberries, granulated sugar, extract that smelled strongly of vanilla, gelatin powder. And, of course, the star of the show: milk.

Leona grimaced, lifting the white liquid up. Milk sloshed lazily around in its bowl, lapping against his thumb. He took a cursory sniff, but didn’t look impressed.

As Leona was returning the milk back to its place, Epel jumped. "U-Um...!!"

"What, you got something to say?" Leona raised a brow. "Then spit it out."

"Well..." Epel nervously twiddled his thumbs. “That’s heavy cream... It’s rich-tasting and has high fat content, so it’s good for creamy dishes. With the sugar and the fruit, are you making a dessert of some kind? Maybe a milk pudding or something…”

“Hmmmm.”

A slow and catty glint rose to Leona’s eyes. He leaned forward, scrutinizing the humble farmer boy.

“So you’ve got a real knack for this kind of thing.”

“Eh, I guess so? I’m used to helping my family and neighbors back in Harveston with produce quality control. It comes naturally to me.”

“Great. Take care of this for me then.” Leona plunked down the bowl of blueberries in his junior’s hands. Epel blinked—but before he could protest, Leona continued. “You’ve got a real talent. It’d be a waste for you not to show it off to the Chef.”

“I don’t know…” Epel casted a curious look at their mentor, who had been observing them from a quiet corner of the kitchen. Gordon returned the gaze, as if sensing trouble afoot.

“Besides, I’m counting on you too,” Leona added, a hand on Epel’s shoulder.

His heart leapt in anticipation. “You are?!”

“Yeah. Even with my nose, I just don’t have the chops for this line of work. Must be my delicate princely constitution. That’s why I’m putting my faith in you.” Leona suddenly frowned. “Was I wrong to?”

“N-No, Leona-senpai!!” Epel hurriedly insisted. “You can definitely leave it to me! I’ll make sure the ingredients we use are the best we have!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The lion’s smile was sly. "Okay, knock yourself out. I’m going to be taking a nap. Don’t bother me until you’ve checked everything in the pantry over… twice.”

“Aye-aye, captain!!”

With that, Leona sauntered off with a casual, self-assured swagger. Gordon was wiping his hands off on a clean dish rag when he passed. They silently met each other’s eyes, Leona passing along a triumphant smirk.

The head chef automatically got a bad feeling.

Kingscholar must have said something to him. Right, I’ll get to the bottom of this.

While Leona had pulled out a chair and hunkered down in it, Gordon made his way over to Epel. He was now eagerly inspecting a pile of sugar, seemingly picking through individual granules by sifting them around with a finger.

"What are you doing over here, my darling?" Gordon asked, his tone kept friendly—a voice he reserved for children, not arrogant adults.

“Chef!” Epel proudly saluted. “I’m making sure the ingredients are good to go!”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but why’s he sittin’ this one out?” Gordon jabbed an accusatory thumb in Leona’s direction. (He resembled a grumpy street cat.)

“I’m doing Leona-senpai’s share too!”

“You don’t think he should be responsible for looking over his own ingredients?” Gordon huffed. Or suspect that he’s blowing smoke up your ass?

“But really trusts me to do this for him.” Epel laid a hand on his chest. His expression was positively glowing, his cheeks appled. “He has confidence in my abilities!! And I trust him to guide me. Leona-senpai has never steered me wrong before!”

Gordon instantly recognized the emotion: pure admiration.

“… You look up to him, don’t you?”

“Yup!! He’s the man I wanna be! Smart, cool, brave, tall, muscly…! I’ve been chugging tons of milk in my free time to make sure I’m getting all the vitamins and minerals I need to catch up to him.”

Is that why I saw him trying to shotgun an entire gallon of milk straight from the jug?! Gordon rubbed at his aching temples.

There was a soft grunt that grounded him again.

“… But it’s not enough to just be physically strong," Epel mumbled. "I can’t just drink milk and call it a day. It’s also important to have a strong spirit too, cuz the heart's also a muscle!"

The first year offered a hopeful grin, a hand set on his bicep. “Leona-senpai has that sort of strength. If I want to be able to stand on the same level as him, I have to give it my all when it comes to training!”

A strong body and spirit…

Yet when he looked at Leona, what Gordon saw first was a broken man forsaking his future. A shell of a person. Was he able to be salvaged? To lead?

Gordon reconsidered. His perspective and Epel’s—whose judgment was clouded? Or was neither quite the full truth?

“… Thanks for that. I’m going to speak with him now. You keep up what you’re doing. Best of luck, love.”

The response he received was bright and resolute.

“Yes, Chef!”

“I bet you must think you’re bloody brilliant.”

The accusation was as stiff as cream whipped into peaks. It cut cleanly—but not quite though Leona’s wit.

He snorted, hardly budging from his recline. “The kid's good at assessing the quality of food. Why keep him back from reaching his full potential?”

“So are you. I know a food critic when I see one,” Gordon said sharply. “And don’t give me that ‘I can’t do it’ bull crap. I thought we were over this already.”

Leona’s laughter was like the roiling thunder of an approaching storm. “I work smarter, not harder, herbivore. Are you sure you’re an instructor? It sounds to me like you have some learning to do on your students.”

"I know plenty—and I know you're better than this." Gordon gestured at him.

"Afraid not," Leona purred, the sarcasm coming off of his words in lazy waves.

Rotten to the core. Spoiled from the start. Shattered, unable to be reassembled. A rebel of the savanna, impossible to tame. All the things people whispered about him behind his back and to his face.

His hand instinctively snaked to the scar that threaded his left eye. "... It's just as the rumors say, teach."

Ugly truths. Evil, harm, destruction—that's all he would ever amount to, all that he was capable of.

There’s no hope left for me. No light of another day. No tomorrows.

Leona turned away, forcing an end to the conversation. He had nothing more to say, and didn't expect anything more out of the chef either.

Then came the hands upon his shoulders, the grip like a vice. Gordon grabbed him, thrusting his face close to Leona’s.

"Don't you talk like that,” the chef hissed with a deathly quiet, “not in my kitchen.”

“Yeah? If you’re so pissed, then banish me from your kingdom,” Leona taunted. His breath was hot with anger, but he bore no claws.

Always the outcast, never the king.

“Not in your life.” Gordon released him, a slight shove back into the seat the third year occupied.

“You’ve already made your judgment of me. Why hold back on acting on it?”

With a slight glare, the chef folded his arms and stared down at him. “For one, you’re deliberately being a jackass to get out of the coursework. For another…”

Gordon nodded towards Epel’s station. “… there’s him.”

“Epel? You might as well dedicate your manpower to him. He’ll need it, the little tyke.”

“He thinks you’re someone to aspire to. But here you are, acting like you’re not.” Gordon narrowed his eyes. “You know what I think? I think the least you could do is respect the kid’s efforts by pitching in—and have some respect for yourself while you’re at it. The kid’s looking up to you. You can try to look up to yourself too, or his hopes are for nothing.”

“He chose to follow me. That decision—and its consequences—are on him.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” Gordon growled. “It’s not just him. Your entire dorm—”

“It’s different,” Leona snapped back. “We’re not the same. They’ve got futures ahead of them. They can afford to be hopelessly blinded by its light.”

Unlike me.

The silence that followed was stifling and thick. It was a reduction left too long on the stove, boiled down to concentrated, palpable self-hatred.

Gordon’s mouth was a tight line. Not a frown, not a glower. Just a neutral line.

"... You remind me of myself when I was younger. Full of vinegar and piss," he grunted at last. Gordon slapped a palm against his knee. "Used to dream of being a footballer. Then had an injury so bad it crushed those dreams before I could recognize it.

"I didn't start taking the culinary arts seriously until 19. You're 20 now, Kingscholar. If there was a chance for an arrogant little lug head like me, then there's a chance for you too. It's not too late."

"Then you're an old fool," Leona spat. To try all your life at something, only to be kicked down every time. "No sob story will ever change what we are."

Gordon faced Epel, his back to Leona. "... I've had a lot of successes. I have that success because I've had failures. I've learned from them. Our scars don't have to define us. We can become better than that. Grow from them.”

"What? Am I meant to be won over by those paltry sentiments?"

"You think whatever you damn well like," Gordon retorted. "If you need me, I'll be helping Felmier. Otherwise, waste the rest of your class time for all I care."

Then he was gone.

Leona shifted in his seat. He regarded the chef with an eerie quiet—the same kind of quietness that pervaded a lion stalking its prey. Weighing the options, assessing what he was up against.

An herbivore. Just a simple-minded, stubborn herbivore. He had been talking out of his ass, trying to act as if he knew—as if he understood him.

Annoyance curdled into a blunt anger.

“Our scars don't have to define us.”

Damn it.

“We can become better than that. Grow from them.”

Damn it...!

Leona bared his teeth, his hands curled into fists.

Familiar frustration flooded him. Helplessness, despair. And a bit of a feeling he had long since renounced.

Hope.

“... Tch.” Leona raked a hand through his hair. “Light a fire under my tail, why don’t you?”

Epel was halfway through inspecting the blueberries when one was plucked straight out of the bowl. Leona tossed it into his mouth, spearing the berry on his canines. A sweet tartness flooded his taste buds.

"... It's fine for the panna cotta," he declared languidly.

Epel startled at his senior's sudden appearance. Beside the first year, Gordon held his breath.

"L-Leona-senpai?! But I thought you were going to rest...?"

"Yeah, well. I got tired of that. Figured I might as well find something else to do to pass the time." Leona cocked his head back, his grin self-assured. "... Got room for one more?"

"I'd be happy to welcome you." Gordon stepped back, allowing Leona to claim his rightful place at an open counter. "... Good to have you back with your head in the game, Kingscholar."

"Hmph. Don't get used to it." He picked up a tool laid out on the table—an ice-cream scooper—and twirled it between dextrous fingers. “I’m a precocious child, so I’ll need an instructor that can keep me engaged.”

“You’re acting cocky for someone who was refusing to play ball a while ago.” Gordon groaned. “… Fine then. You’re on. Just for that, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Excuse me, Chef!” The protest came from Epel, who had abandoned the blueberries. “Please go hard on me too!! I can handle it!!”

Leona snorted. “You sure about that, squirt? You never know how mean the big, scary teacher might be.”

“Yes! I want to work together with you, Leona-senpai! Then I can become as strong as you are.”

As strong as I am… Something in his chest sank. Was he truly?

Leona dispelled the doubt with a sigh. Aaah, how annoying. He’s looking at me with those big, sparkling eyes. Why are kids like this?

So fixated on the future and the people who would lead them to it.

He softened.

"... Yeah, sure. Let's just get this over with. The sooner, the better."

Gordon nodded approvingly.

Until the day where I can comfortably stand where you are… wait for me. I’ll meet you there.

[dollivication]

Need to know if I'm not the only one who thinks Vergil is into femdom? Like, he just seems like he'd be into that-

I would write some small scenario type thing but I am not good at writing femdom XD All I know is that Vergil definitely wants a woman to come show him how it's done ;⁠)

-🐉

OH,,??? I ACTUALLY HSD A FEW THIUGHTS ON THIS NOT TOO LONG AGO… KISSES UR FOREHEAD… UR COOKING ITS OKAY

cw: nsfw

no because laik i SEE whatchu mean.. zont get me wrong, his obsession with power DOESS tend to get in the way and influence more dominant traits—but on the chance that he MANAGES to CALM thee fuck deown on his lil hunt, there’s zefinitely some underlying desire to get absolutely FOLDED IN HALF by a woman

at first he’s a lil hesitant abt revealing such a thing;; he has never quite been stripped of power like that or in general really! you’ll probably have to do a lot of convincing before he actually ever lets you take the reins,, and— hey!! are you being gentle?? stop that, he doesn’t need your dumb reassuring words, he’s not made of glass yu kno >:(!!! fucker is a pretty demanding sub…

but he quickly shuts up when you shove your fingers in his mouth. that’s new—he’s stumped, doesn’t know what to do or how to react, until you tell him to suck.

it’s ridiculous, it’s unbecoming of a son from the sparda bloodline—and yet he proceeds to suck on your wedding and middle finger, coating your digits in his warm saliva. he may gag a few times, but he’ll do his best to stifle the sounds, not wanting to appear as if he couldn’t take something as simple as your fingers down his throat.

..the weakness vergil feels as of now is a different type. not the familiar type where the need to fight back in order to survive is triggered. instead, it’s something intoxicating. even if his eyes get a bit watery, even if his breaths grow staggered, there is something so safe about you, it makes his entire mind go muddy and his body pliant.

have you casted some type of magic on him? is that why he feels the need to obey your every word? he doesn’t even realize he's laying on his back as you thrust your pussy onto his face, using his tongue as a dildo and tugging at his hair to redirect him as if he were a misbehaving, leashed canine.

how humiliating. but the most common betrayal is that of the body—his cock stirring at how you treat him so carelessly, the blush-red tip already drooling. you taunt him, and while he usually has some sort of comeback at the ready, his words fall flat this time, rather using his tongue to savor the taste of your dripping cunt.

…once the time finally arrives, vergil isn’t sure if he should or shouldn’t feel proud at how he manages to take the strap-on so easily, his cock jolting at the slightest of movements. his asshole clenches around the silicone, hair in disarray much like the rest of him.

slap his ass until the mark of your hand can be seen in a faint red, dig your nails into his thighs until you pierce the skin and draw droplets of blood. it’ll coerce a few groans and grunts out of him, growls being the most prominent sound apart from panting.

watching you thrust so ruthlessly into his asshole with your breaths fanning his face, your voice murmuring faux jeers, whilst the fake cock forces itself into his depths time and time again—is just enough for vergil to grunt out your name with a wavering tone, squeezing his eyes shut as pain and pleasure blur together. he lets out the tiniest gasp when your hands force his head back, prompting him to arch his back like the common street whore.

vergil’s cock spurts out thick ropes of cum, each falling onto his rapidly rising and falling stomach and chest. he’s somewhat dizzy, in disbelief that he could actually let someone take control of him like that.

there is, however, no repulsion.

he feels you move again, your lips suggesting—No, promising— the gift of a collar around his neck with your name on it. your other hand goes to his throat to provide a demonstration of the future collar’s strength, slowly and carefully cutting off a safe amount of his oxygen with your grip.

…vergil opens his eyes, and his cock hardens and twitches with need once more.

——————

UWA HELL I GOT CARRIED AWAYUHHMM.. can u tell i am super passionate abt vergil….;;

[bbyquokka]

Hi this is my first time requesting to you so hello! (I’ll send a non-anon ask to you so you can see my profile and age💜)

I was thinking about cockwarming with Hyunjin and it being pure comfort and fluff. I notice in fics that cockwarming always leads to sex but I just want to experience it as is.

Just Hyunjin and the reader being very close with each other cuddling in bed after the she has a bad day at university. He seems like the romantic type who would cherish these types of intimate and vulnerable moments where they can feel safe together. He’d even give her his jiniret plush just to make her smile

warmth

FLUFF/SUGGESTIVE THEMES BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

warning: fem bodied reader, uni au, established relationship, pet names, cock warming, reader feels insecure, fluff and comfort, semi proof read. words: 0.7k ~ (724)

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“hey darling. how did–oof!” hyunjin groans before laughing softly as you straddle his lap, forehead resting on his shoulder. he wraps his arms around your tired body gently, stroking your back. “rough lecture?”

“yeah.” you mumble against the material of his t-shirt. “i swear this professor hates me.”

“i doubt that darling.” hyunjin laughs softly.

“want cuddles.”

“here or?” you lift your head up and pout, eyes flickering below his waist. “ahhh, ok darling.”

hyunjin picks you up gently and walks to the shared bedroom. he gently places you down on the bed to strip, watching you do the same before getting under the duvet.

hyunjin slides in behind you, lips pressing gently kisses along the back of your neck. his fingers trailing along your sides, feather like touches that drive you insane.

“hyun..” you whimper impatiently. “please.”

“ok ok darling.” he laughs softly before slowly pushing his penis inside you. you both let out soft whimpers and groans, the feeling of being filled and stretched providing you with a strange sense of comfort.

his length is fully inserted, touching untouched territory. your warmth slowly drives hyunjin insane due to the fact that he is addicted to your warmth and how you feel. he presses his chest against your back to provide you with some skin on skin, arm snaking around your midriff and thumb stroking your stomach.

“better?” he softly whispers. you hum softly, giggling as hyunjin kisses your earlobe.

“stopp! that tickles!” you whine. hyunjin carries on for a few seconds before kissing your neck gently.

your walls flutter around hyunjin's length which makes him silently groan. he so badly wants to move but he knows you're not in the mood for sex of any kind. your energy screams 'hold me. i've had a shit day.'

“you're so pretty, you know that right?” hyunjin hums softly. you blush a soft pink, nuzzling into the pillow to hide the embarrassment.

“shh.”

“never. i will keep telling you that you're beautiful and pretty and gorgeous and–”

“ok ok! i–i get it.” you whine. hyunjin laughs before pecking your rose coloured cheeks gently.

“you'll be ok yn. i promise you.”

“will i? i'm starting to doubt that uni is for me..”

“why baby?”

“because everyone around me is so fucking smart and i'm just there. i'm surrounded by all this talent and smartness that it's suffocating but i also feel insufficient. maybe i'm not cut out for uni...” your voice cracks and wobbles. hyunjin furrows his brows before repositioning and reinserting himself so you're facing him.

“my darling.” he cups your cheeks gently, wiping away a few stray tears. “we all have our strengths and weaknesses. you shouldn't compare yourself to others which i know is hard to do when you feel insecure and low but, someone might feel the same way about you.”

“what do you mean?” you whisper.

“well, someone else might be comparing themselves to you. what you think is a weakness about yourself could be what they find strong about you.”

“really?”

“it's possible darling. you shouldn't compare yourself to others. which is hard, i know but you shine in other aspects of life to. you are smart and talented but being smart and talented doesn't necessarily mean what you think it means.”

“no?” you look up at him as he strokes your hair gently.

“you can be smart and talented in many other ways that don't involve solving equations and making art pieces so don't bring yourself down my love. you could hold a piece of knowledge that someone else doesn't know and they could find you smart. just because you struggle in one area doesn't make you any less of a person.”

“hyun...” you sniffle, leaning into his touch. “thank you.”

“anytime darling. do you feel better?” he traces your jawline slowly with the tip of his finger before leaning down.

“much better.” you mumble before pressing your lips against hyunjin's plump ones. the kiss is slow and passionate. his cock still nestled deep inside you, walls fluttering around his length and providing hyunjin with such warmth and comfort.

“i'll always be here for you darling. morning, noon and night and if i'm not here, you have this.” hyunjin hands you his jiniret plush to which you hold close to your chest. “i love you, yn. so so much.”

note: i do love a lil bit of cockwarming with some added fluff !! ty for sending this in, i enjoy writing cockwarming. should really write more of it tbh. don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @unh0ly-dr3am3r ; @septicrebel ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @telesvng ; @oshimee

[whxre-bxby]

Out of all the recoms, who do you think would be best/most likely to talk you through an orgasm?

Masterlist

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+ content, SMUT (not proofread)

It would definitely be one who cares about you. Being talked through that by someone also shows the 'power' they have which is why:

Colonel Miles Quaritch

...is number one. He's an old man so he isn't there for quickies. He likes to take his time and he's a mean tease. Something that really gets him going is when you are submissive and visibly smaller than him. He loves the power and size difference and definitely uses it to his advantage to tease, embarrass, and overwhelm you. The teasing continues all the way until the very end. Meaning he'll be mean through your orgasm but nice enough to let you cum.

He'd say things like:

"Aww look at you baby, fucked dumb by my cock."

"Stupid slut, you want more don't ya?"

"You're Daddy's whore ain't ya? Lettin' me use you all the time."

"You're takin' me so well."

Quaritch does care about you, he just doesn't verbally say so. Praise is rare from him but that's why when you get it, it's good. During your orgasm, he'll continue to pleasure you but he'll make fun of you for being so desperate for him. Secretly, he loves when you beg and especially loves when you're so fucked out you can't think or answer him except moan and cry. Crying turns him on big time.

Z-Dog / Zdinarsk

Is second because even though I don't write for her, I know she prioritises your pleasure over hers. Sometimes when you two have sex, she won't even touch herself or let you touch her because she just gets so much pleasure out of overstimulating you and making you cum as many times as she can. If her mouth is free while you cum, she will guide you through it and tell you how well you're doing. Sometimes she will tease the shit out of you until your face is flushed and all you can do is beg and plead.

"That's it baby, let go."

"Come on, make Mommy proud."

"Look at you, so pretty for me when you cum."

Lopez

...would probably be third because I just know that he knows exactly what he's doing. His experience isn't abnormal but he just got the hang of it quickly. He's a switch, meaning he'll enjoy taking pleasure as much as giving it to you and he won't mind being dom or sub. It all depends on the occasion. He as well isn't a fan of quickies unless there is no other option. Lopez loves to take his time and edge you until your body is weak and begging for a release. Seeing you follow his movements with your hips like it's everything and all you will ever need gets him so uncontrollably hard, he can straight away go another round after you've both cum. When you orgasm, he takes pride in it and needs to hear you confirm how good it is and that it's him making your legs shake.

"Such a beautiful mess you're making, baby."

"Is it that good?" he would coo in your ear with a grin.

"Come on Mami, tell me. Who's making you feel like this?"

Lyle Wainfleet

I'm not sure exactly where to position Lyle, because it definitely depends on who you are to him and what occasion it is. He loves quickies and had a few fuck buddies during his time in the RDA, so if that is what you are to him, he won't be as verbal. He'd occasionally praise you and say how good it feels, but that would be it. If he would talk you through your orgasm as a friend with benefits, then he would just tease you about it. However, if you're dating, Lyle would absolutely prioritise you. If he loves you, he will make you his world and his everything. So when you cum it means a lot to him and you'll be flooded with compliments, love and praise.

"God, you look so pretty like this"

"Fuck- that's it. Look at you. So fuckin' perfect."

"Let go baby, I'll give it to you. Don't worry."

Mansk

We all know by now that Mansk is more conservative. He's not as outrageously social as Lyle is which means he gets laid less because he doesn't initiate conversations or talk to people he doesn't know. (Unlike Lyle, who I know was a total slut as a human). If Mansk finds someone, or more like if someone finds Mansk and it leads to sex (without romance) he's quiet. Literally, no words are being spoken he just focuses on his pleasure and then helps the other person get off. He would never hook up with anyone random he doesn't know too well though. If you're in a relationship, everything is different. He trusts you and is able to let his guard down around you. Which is also when he is more vocal. He prefers to listen to you but from time to time he enjoys just letting it all out and talking away with you for hours. During sex, Mansk is a changed man. He's just so in love with you he will randomly blurt out the compliments that cross his mind. You can be riding him, going down on him or he can be pleasuring you and the man will just stop for a few seconds. When you wonder why he stopped moving you look up at him to see his lovestruck eyes admiring you. He'll be mumbling things like: "I love you so much..." ; "You're so pretty." ; "You look like an angel...".

When you're having an orgasm, he takes so much pleasure in seeing your body react to him and he watches how your face contorts. Once, he was watching you pleasure yourself and when you visibly came, he creamed his pants without even touching himself.

"Let go baby, please. Let me see you."

"Don't hide, I want to see how good you feel."

"That's it, take it all."

"You're so good for me, 'm so lucky to have you."

(Author's note: I'll be gone for a week because I'm on holiday with friends. Probably won't manage to post until next week, sorry.)

Tag list: @numarusworld @jatwow @number1gal @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[the-milk-monarch]

Ezekiel and Justin + S/O, who's good at reading body language = ??

☣︎ Sorry for the late answer, Ezekiel, Justin and reading body language isn't my strong side 💀 I dun rly know how to write Justin so hopefully I wrote what you wanted-

[𝚂/𝙾 𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙰𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈 ��𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙰𝙶𝙴]

Summary: Confessions.

☢︎ | Total Drama | ~1,7k words | gender-neutral reader ♡ | Ezekiel | Justin ⚠ | OOC??

[𝙴𝚣𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚕]

Even though Ezekiel wasn't the perfect boyfriend material, it didn't mean he couldn't get a crush on someone.

That someone was you.

He was still somewhat out of touch with the world around him, but he seemed to be even more- "off" with you.

He could be seen around you more often than not, in hopes that he wouldn't fuck up as usual.

Most of the time he didn't even know what went wrong, since this was how he was raised and at his house no one had a problem with such things?

I also headcanon him as autistic

So he just kinda hoped whatever he did around you didn't come off as insensitive or wrong to say.

"Hey- Y/N." He looked at you as he approached, making a hand gesture that would catch your attention. "You need any help, maybe?" He asked hesitantly but keeping it cool, as if he was scared of once again being yelled at for being inappropriate. So he elaborated. "I mean- Not that I think you're weak- Just- You know- I wanna be helpful." He shrugged, looking somewhere else before returning to your gaze briefly. You had some sympathy for the boy, knowing he's just really out of touch. You didn't sense any maliciousness coming his way, so you were usually pretty kind to him "I know, don't worry. You're fine." You said calmly. "Sure, I could use some help."

You noticed that Ezekiel was also bit more chatty with you than with others.

And, well, he watched his mouth a lot more too.

He usually had a pre-planned response to start off with talking to you.

He still tried to learn to not be as insensitive around other people, but it was really visible to you that he tried to be extra careful with you around.

That made you think a little- Why?

So one day you decided to get some answers.

Usually it was Ezekiel approaching you first, but this time you decided to turn it around. "Hey, Zeke?" You calmly and friendly tried to get his attention. "Huh?" He got thrown off of his thoughts as he heard his name being called. "Oh. Y/N- Hey. What is it?" He turned his focus on you, a bit curious. "I have a question for you, if you don't mind." You tried to be as casual as you could, not wanting to scare him off. You just wanted to have a friendly chat and perhaps confirm your thoughts about him. "Uhh... Okay. Just not anything hard, alright?" He looked at you now more curious but also slightly worried of what the question would be. You giggled slightly at his choice of words, which made him tilt his head a bit. "Well- It's not a math equation. I was just curious-" You start off gently. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've noticed you're a bit more careful around me than others." You don't sugarcoat, but you try to not sound as if you're mad or accusing him of something. "Uh..." He stopped for a second, thinking what to respond. You weren't supposed to give him a hard question! "...Is that wrong?" He tilted his head even more, a bit confused why would you ask about that. Did he do something wrong again? "Oh, no, no-" You quickly reassure him. "No, I actually kinda appreciate that-" "But I also didn't want you to- you know, stress out around me." You elaborate. He blinks once as he processes what you said. "...I mean- It's not that I'm afraid of you, ya kno-" He explains himself a little, although you can see a bit of anxiousness seeping in from his behavior. "But sometimes it seems that whatever I do is somehow wrong, so I don't want you to be mad at me or somethin'." He kicks dirt on the ground a little to release some stress as he keeps his hands in his pocket, still not showing that he's bothered, except avoiding eye contact. "I won't be mad at you for something that you say without bad intentions. I mean, hey, everyone makes mistakes, right?" You try to lighten up the situation and make some wiggle room for him so he doesn't feel as if he's being interviewed. "I guess so-" He looks at you briefly, now visibly less worried. His body language wasn't really telling, but your deduction skills told you that you were in the clear, without making him too uncomfortable. However, you decided to ask a bit more risky question after that. "So... Is there a reason why you feel the need to be more careful around me?" You tried to gently probe an answer from him. He stopped for a second, as if caught doing something bad. "Uhm..." He started getting a bit more uncomfy, now visibly looking away from you. You awaited calmly for his answer, trying to be as non threatening and open as possible. If you were to tell the truth, you kinda suspected Zeke might have caught a small crush on you. Of course you weren't 100% sure, and you really hoped that you read his subtle signs right. Otherwise this situation would turn awkward really quick. "Well- You're just the nicest to me, ya kno? ... I really don't want you to hate me." He spoke with a bit hesitant but honest tone as his gaze fell on the ground instead of your eyes. You smiled softly and sympathetically, seeing how much he valued your opinion about him. "You don't have to worry about that- I like you, you know." You said with conviction. He paused for a moment before nodding. His eyes that were covered by the brown hair looked at you for a moment, holding the short eye contact. "... How much?" He dared to ask. He just stood there, as if asking a normal question, but still awaiting some sort of possible bad reaction. He got you a bit dumbfounded, but since he answered all of your questions so nicely, you decided to return the favor. "Uh... I guess a decent amount-" You shrugged, showing a bit of coy smile.

"Like, just a friend, right??" He continued asking, piercing you with his gaze that needed answers. His tone didn't indicate any need or hope for your connection to be deeper, but his look was obvious. You stopped for a moment, before finally having to answer the hard question. "As a friend, for sure!" You started off. "But- if you wanna- dunno, get to know each other closer one day- I don't see an issue with this either." You finally said the words that could possibly take a big to your pride with rejection. He paused. Tilted his head. And then spoke. "Wait- You mean like- You wanna get to know me closer?" He asked, still not believing your original statement. "To be fair I never had a best friend..." He obviously assumed you meant it as that. He put on a thoughtful expression, thinking about it, which made you wanna expand on your words. "No, I mean- As partners. Dating." You elaborated, awaiting his reaction. His expression remained calm as he was processing what was said to him, until it finally clicked and his eyes went wide. "Oh." He only managed to say. "Okay- Wow, huh." His surprise was very much visible. "Yeah, that would be- That would be cool." His words were slightly flat per usual, but you could see both the shock and relief emitting from him.

Be patient with this boy, he still has some figuring out and learning to do.

If you're really determined to date him, be prepared to be the one to lead the hard situations (like the mentioned confession) by yourself, at least at first.

[𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗]

When Justin started to hang around you more, you knew something was up.

He's good at (and known for) using his good looks to get what he wants, whether it'd be simple adoration or help with the challenge.

It started with with him just trying to make a small talk.

You didn't mind, as long as he wasn't trying to use you so he could stay lazy.

"You know, you're not half-bad. I mean, nothing compares to my beauty of course, but..." He gave you a backhanded compliment. "Wow, that's big coming from you." You said half-sarcastically, but in a lighthearted way. "Oh, yeah, I know." He smirked handsomely while fixing his hair with one hand.

Unlike what you expected, he didn't really try to woo and use you.

He might have merely suggested it one time, but if you didn't budge then he stopped doing that.

Well, trying to use you that is, he was still kind of trying to woo you.

You noticed Justin was behaving a bit differently around you than with others contestants.

He was casually giving you "compliments", which was weird, because usually he was focused only on himself.

He thought he was clever by "slowly pulling you in" to like him, like other contestants.

He wouldn't have to disclose his attraction to you then, and instead you'd do it first.

But you didn't bite the bait.

You had a suspicion that he wanted you to do just that.

And you were curious if he was determined enough for your attention to come to you himself.

So finally, after some time, he got frustrated with his last failed attempt.

"Y/N-" He whined dramatically, with a given up tone. You turned his head towards the pathetic sound. "Are you really not affected by my beauty? Is this face not worth your attention?" He looked at you, combing his hair in a truly despaired manner. "... What do you mean?" You raised your brow in half amusement, already knowing what he refers, but you tried to remain neutral. "All this time I've been trying to get you to confess your true feelings for me, and you're still so stubborn..." You couldn't help but chuckle at his visible attempts to... confess to you? gaslight you so you'd do it?? "Well- Have you tried doing it first?" You turned the question on him. That shut him up for a second, after which he quickly regained himself into more graceful posture from his grand acting. You heard him sigh. "Well- If I have to." He cleared his throat and started. "Y/N, if you'd confess your attraction to me, I'd accept." You rolled your eyes at his attempt to keep his pride, but you gave him some brownie points for at least somewhat owning up to it. You copied his acting with clearing your throat and responded. "Well, Justin, if you'd do that, I'd be up for it."

He'd appreciate your keen senses of figuring people out on the competition btw.

[whumpasaurus101]

Whumptober, day one

YAY!!! First day of @whumptober Lets see how this goes YUDJUHDDHJ

-

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?

-

Sidekick stumbled backwards as Villain advanced towards them. They could hear their own heartbeat in their ears, thumping loudly as if crying out for help.

“Give it up, kid. Tell me where Hero is and you and I can get along.”

Sidekick took a shaky breath before slowly bring up their fists, ready to fight as they got their footing back, “Not happening,” they rasped, hating themself for how weak their voice sounded, “I'm not going to stop fighting back.”

A cruel smirk cracked along Villain’s lips as they raised their fists too, “Me neither.”

This time, Sidekick lunged forwards first. They went to swing at the villain but their wrist was quickly grabbed, along with their other one before Villain drove their knee up into Sidekick’s stomach.

Sidekick cried out as they hunched over, only resulting in them being kneed in the face. They fell to the floor, not getting any break as Villain was quick to straddle their hips, delivering punch after punch.

Sidekick screamed out, letting out all their energy, grabbing both of Villain’s wrists before throwing them off of them. This time they straddled Villain’s hips. They shot out their witch blade, placing it just at Villain’s throat as they caught their breath, “You- you're going to leave me alone,” Sidekick growled, surprising themself at their own tone, “You're going…gonna leave me and Hero alone.”

Villain simply scoffed, “Oh please, you think you scare me? You're nothing but a weak link to Hero. They only hired you because they felt sorry for you.

And that was when Sidekick did something they were trained not to do. They let it sink in. Their grip on Villain loosened and they gulped. But Villain then turned Sidekick to the floor, snatching the blade from the other’s hand and drove it into Sidekick’s torso, ripping a scream from the other.

“Damn, I really thought we would get along,” Villain hummed, “Welp! See you around kid,,, or not,” Villain giggled before running off to the shadows who engulfed their figure- leaving Sidekick by themself.

Sidekick was gasping for breath, shaking hands pressing down onto their wounds as they broke down into sobs, god, they were pathetic.

Rustling from a nearby bush made Sidekick flinch, only further upsetting their wound as they whimpered. “Ple-please, Villain, I-I swear I don't kno-”

“Sidekick?”

Sidekick’s eyes blew open, “Hero?!”

The hero ran over kneeling beside their sidekick as their face contorted in guilt, “Oh, bud… I'm so sorry…” They took in their sidekick who lay on the ground, sweat coating their face and hair, skin paler than usual and blood everywhere.

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay, buddy.” 

Sidekick whimpered and nodded, leaning into the gentle touch in their sweat-soaked hair, “Hu-hurts..”

“I know… I know, I’ll make it stop hurting soon, we just need to bring you back the the HQ, alright”? Sidekick nodded slowly, their eyes fluttering closed but they opened them back up at Hero’s voice, “Heyhey, don’t be falling asleep on me, it would be one boring car ride back without you talking to me.” 

They both shared a laugh but Sidekick winced as their wound filled with fire. Hero gulped before they held up five of their fingers, “Hey, how many fingers am I holding up, bud?”

Sidekick squinted up as they tried to focus their vision on Hero’s hands, “Fff-fi-five?”

“Yeah! Good job! That’s how many sweets I’ll give you when we get home, got it?” Sidekick smiled and nodded, “Th’nk you..” They were going to be alright… but Villain’s words still cut deep into their heart. They were weak…

[melancholysway]

I don't remember how bad Raph's anger issues were in the 2007 film so this might be a little ooc

But could you do something with Raph and Leo are arguing over something, and Raph throws his sai at a wall

It hits the wall and they hear a yelp, both turn around in a panic

The sai barely missed Y/N who was just coming in the room so now they're like, "hah I'll just come back laterrr :')" <- stressed out by a near death experience

Thank you!

You can do whateverjust Leo's and Raph's reactions, or all of their reactions, or a fic, whatever you're vibing with

Aww! I got you :) I'm doing this as if you're either of the turtle's S/O! so you can choose which you'd want to read:)

TMNT 2007 Imagines: How Leo & Raph would react if you were almost hit

As Leonardo's S/O

Ah- guys- he's pissed

He just looks at his brother with such disappointment that it makes Raph feel even more guilty than he already is.

To be fair, you learned to never get involved when there was an argument between Leonardo and Raphael, you could get hurt- seriously hurt.

They don't mess around, they will physically fight- they give no fucks

But when it's announced that Leonardo will be leaving to South America for training, Raphael is fucking livid. He interrupts Leo's meditation session and rips him a new one.

"I can't believe ya wouldn't tell us! What happened to not keepin' secrets O' Fearless One?!"

Although it may not look like it, Raphael cares a lot about his older brother. So to see him up and leave like that pisses him off.

But, he has it all wrong. Leonardo didn't want to hurt him or his other brothers with the news.

So, they argue. What about you may ask? it's beyond me. All of this pent-up anger and frustration from both sides causes an all-out yelling war. While the others are doing their own thing, you can't help but intervene. The last thing you want is a fight to break out between your boyfriend and best friend.

Just as you walk in, Raph grunts in frustration and throws his sai- and if it wasn't for your instant reflexes, you would have been gone.

You duck quickly, and when you turn around, you see how his (extremely sharp) sai just sticks in the cement wall behind you. it's at this moment that you're so lucky to be alive.

It shakes you up, and you see Raph's amber eyes go wide, he didn't mean that- he didn't even know you were standing there.

"Shit, Y/n, I ain't kno-" "Raph!? What the shell!?"

Leo's PISSED. Raph could've killed you.

This causes more arguing, as Leo goes over to you and pries the sai from the wall- throwing it to the side and putting a protective arm in front of you and standing in the middle of you and Raphael.

But, you try and leave. You don't want to be in the middle of the feud. Not again. You can't take a side. You don't want to take a side. It's not your place.

"No y/n you stay right here- RAPH. Apologize. Now."

Will literally force a sorry out of Raph and will NOT let him go until he does.

Once he apologizes (Raph does feel bad, he seriously didn't mean to nearly cause you an early death, so the sorry comes quick,) he picks up his sai and leaves the dojo.

Leo stays and makes sure you're okay after that. It's natural, you're shaken up, you feel weak in the knees, the normal. You're in shock.

That seriously could've gone south quick, and Leo thinks about it for a split second. What if it did? He doesn't want to think about it anymore. It causes him to tear up.

Leo believes in parallel universes, in a different universe, you DID wind up getting stabbed. He could only imagine how is parallel self is handling it right now.

"Deep breaths, love, I'm sorry." Once you calm down, he helps you to his room, it's very clean and bare now, as he already packed essentials for his trip. But, his bed is still the same. Same scent and everything.

Once you're in his bed, he gets you some water, and then he lays beside you, holding you, comforting you.

He apologizes. Although you stop him and tell him he has nothing to apologize for, he doesn't care. He feels responsible. He should've been more attentive. He shouldn't have continued arguing with Raph. Maybe that would've never happened if he did.

You calm down as minutes go by, and Leo asks you (for the 1000th time) if you’re feeling okay.

“Thanks to you, I am.”

His heart soars at your response. He’s always glad to help you.

As Raphael's S/O

ooh does this boy feel like shit for doing that

It’s been a rough couple of weeks, especially finding out Leo will be leaving for god knows how long

So when he barges in the dojo one day and just starts going off on Leo- letting out all of his anger, it turns into a full blown argument

“I’m doing it for you, Raph! For our family!”

Raph doesn’t wanna hear it. He wants his brother HERE. In the sewers of NYC, not 3727228 miles away.

As Raph’s S/O, you understood why he got so angry at times. He was mad at the world around him. How imperfect it can truly be, and how it can turn upside down in an instant.

You had to understand Raph before you even thought about dating him- he’s a handful. He knows that, and he tries his best for you. You know he does.

You comfort him a lot. Like that day when Leo announced he would be leaving. He was feeling so many emotions and didn’t know what to do

So he started to dislike his brother. Like right now, how he just came in the dojo and started up an argument just because he can.

“We need ya here! I need ya here!” Doesn’t Leo understand that? But, it’s also Splinter’s orders. Leo has to go.

They continue to go back and forth, and from experience and observation- you know not to try and be the mediator. That was more Splinter’s thing. But, he wasn’t around. Nobody was. Just you as you just so happen to walk by.

But, you put all those conversations between Donnie and Mikey about what you should and shouldn’t do when Leo and Raph argue and go in there to try to at least dial it down.

Note: you should NOT tell both of them to shutup, they will literally forget they’re arguing with each other and come together and tell YOU to shutup and stay out of it (via Mikey)

Back to the current situation, you walk in and hear Raph’s accented voice get louder, and as you get closer to see them both, you also see something sharp fly right in your direction

After quickly ducking and yelping in the process, Raphael and Leonardo both stop and look at you.

Barely missed. And now? You’re sitting on the floor looking at them both.

Leonardo apologizes first. He should’ve been more aware of his surroundings and stopped Raph from almost decapitating you.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is shocked. He’s frozen in place, watching as Leo helps you get up, and soon leaving the dojo to get Donnie as you mention that you feel your heart racing.

“I’m fine, Leo, I’m just…” too late, he’s already gone.

Raphael truly fucked up, didn’t he? The last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you. You’re practically his everything. Who he tries to be a better person (err, turtle) for.

“Shit, babe, I’m so…fuck…I’m sorry,” once Raph gets himself out of that shocked state, he comes rushing to you, not even thinking about his sai that’s sticking out the wall.

He begins to ramble, that’s what he always did when he has no grasp on his emotions. He didn’t mean to do that. He had no idea you were there. He’s sorry, so fucking sorry. He knows he could’ve hurt you-he knows.

As you feel your heart rate go down as moments pass, you just embrace your boyfriend mid ramble. You hold him. You’re okay, and you have to tell him that.

“Hey, I’m okay, see?” You say while you bury your face in his plastron, “That reflex training you taught me finally came in handy, huh?” Raph isn’t sure what to do with his hands at first, but they soon wrap around your smaller form. How can you be so sweet to him when he almost took your head off?

He apologizes sincerely once again, but…it’s okay. Things happen. You knew Raphael wouldn’t do anything to hurt you intentionally. He’s not like that towards you. He cherishes you.

You cherish him all the same.

Leo comes back with Donnie, but you insist you’re okay. Which, you are. Raph and Leo end things bittersweetly, but what matters is that it’s over. They know not to fight to that extent. Raph understands now.

Raph’s still thinking hard about what he almost did to you, and it takes a lot of reassurance for him to see that you’re truly not angry or upset at him.

And once you’ve given Raphael that reassurance, he’s feeling better.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to get rid of me, Raphie.” You’re using his nickname again, you’re joking with him again like you usually do, and it makes him smile. It makes him love you even more, how you can get past his fuck ups with no hard feelings. He needs someone who understands.

You understand, and that’s what he loves about you.

//

taglist:

@bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside

Masterlist

[twst-drabbles]

Trapped in a Fish's Eye 3

Summary: Floyd hunts down a student that had a sandwich in his hand. A sandwich that wasn't prepared by the hands of Azul, Jade or Floyd.

(Ah, good ol cannibalism. It was bound to come about sooner or later. Had to keep from the laptop yesterday. The internet was simply not having it. Anyways, here's Floyd. He's being real mean here.)

"Oh? Haha. Caught another one," Floyd casually said after breaking down a door with a reckless kick, as though this was all just happenstance and not a hunt. "I told you. You can't eat that."

Floyd leaned in real close and whispered to the student who shoved himself into a corner. He grabbed his head to keep him from doing any funny business and swiped the sandwich. Floyd let go of the student, but he continued to shiver.

Oh look, he's starting to cry. His poor belly must be aching so much. Oh well.

Floyd stood up and flipped the sandwich this way and that. He opened it and took a good whiff of the red meat inside.

Floyd grinned, "Yup, that's not a sandwich any of us would make. Looks like it though, I'll give the cook that. Though…"

Floyd slammed his heel into the plaster right next to the student's head. He yelped and curled further inward, like he was some innocent fish that didn't do anything wrong.

"You heard the rules, didn't ya?" Floyd drawled out, "Don't take food that wasn't made by Azul, Jade or me! So why did you have something that clearly wasn't given to you by any of us? Huh?"

"…" The student gulped but said nothing.

Floyd grabbed his hair and pulled him up. "Hmm? Come on. You can tell me. And I promise I won't squeeze you that tightly, alright?"

The student writhed and trembled, but ultimately opened his mouth. "…I was… I was hungry." His voiced ended with a whine.

The food rations had to be cut down significantly to only what is absolutely needed. Floyd didn't like that, neither did Jade or Azul, but this was this and that was that. Nobody had any clue how long they're going to be trapped in this dorm and as much as Floyd wanted to do the same thing and eat whatever he sees, your word is basically law around here.

Floyd was running on empty and all that chasing, while fun, only reminded him that he too was hungry as well. But at least he wasn't a whiner about it.

"Yeah, so?" Floyd let go, already feeling gross from touching this student, "Didn't you get the memo? We have no meats."

No fish, no chicken or anything of the like. It all spoiled quickly. Too quickly.

"And that sandwich had some," Floyd didn't let the food go. If he did, he's more than sure that this student would dive in and swallow it in one gulp, "So you gotta ask yourself, where did this meat come from? Are you really going to eat some mystery meat just because you're a little hungry?"

"But… but does it matter? I just-"

"Nope. I hate that answer. Shut up." Floyd meant to tap the student's chin but accidentally kick it instead. "Whoops. Oh well."

The weak student was thrown to the floor. He snorted and sniffed then started a whiny weep.

"Floyd," And Jade walked in at just the right time, as though he wasn't lingering around the doorway, watching it all go down. Of course Floyd would notice him. Everything is getting on Floyd's nerves. "You shouldn't be so rough on the little and weak. You might very well break him."

"I'm not trying to break him," Floyd sighed everything out and leaned against the nearest wall. Ah, he's done being angry and annoyed. "It's not my fault he didn't weigh much."

Floyd wants to give a nickname, but he gave up on that too. No point anyway. This student isn't all that interesting. Has the sort of face and voice that blends with everyone else.

"So, what are you here for, Jade?"

"Hmm? Oh!" Jade pretended to be forgetful, but his smile was weird. Out of place, almost. And he wouldn't keep his eyes off the sandwich in Floyd's hand. "Here, a plastic bag. You might want to put that… lunch in there."

"Hmm, why? Is it meat infected or something?" It's mystery meat, Floyd knows that, so it's probably infected. But still, he wanted to probe.

Only then did Jade's smile truly became stuff, like he had something nasty resting on his tongue. "It could be, but that's not the concern. Azul and I have a… theory, of sorts, that this meat might actually belong to someone."

"What? Like they were hiding a packet in their jacket or something?" Floyd joked, if only to annoy Jade, needle at him. He likes doing that, spouting out dumb things just to frustrate his brother.

Floyd's knew. Suspected it from the start, really. But Azul and Jade weren't the kind to follow their instincts. No, they gotta test it out. Make sure it's actually true before even hinting that had something.

Anyways, Jade took the bait. He was right back to his polite, smiling self and even laughed into his hand. "Don't be silly Floyd. That meat was part of a person. It's one thing for us to eat the rest of our potential siblings. We were thoughtless babes, after all. It's another to butcher someone you've once known as a fellow colleague and prepare them as afternoon lunch."

What was Jade thinking, trying to word himself carefully around Floyd?

Floyd knocked against the wall, casting his gaze to the student that has went completely silent. He was biting his knuckles, completely and utterly stiff. Was he horrified? Probably.

"You heard that?" Floyd said, "That was someone you were about to eat. Might want to be careful of your choices next time, 'kay? Otherwise, I'll squeeze ya."

Now Floyd can leave this kid be and go on hunting for the others. Well, that's if they haven't eaten them yet.

[damascus-crowned-king]

SHAW PACK FIC LETS GOOOO

proofread by the lovely @caelum-et-ocean

Also once again

I AM A SHITTY WRITER

THIS FIC IS PROBABLY ASS

Also kinda angsty

Enjoy

He needed to relax.

He needed to step away from being an alpha.

He needed his body to stop aching.

But most of all, He needed the love of his life.

After a 15 minute drive which felt like an hour due to exhaustion he finally made it home. His feet dragged out of the car and all the way to the stairs and front door. He was even exhausted getting his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door.

With a creaky sound emitting from the door, he spoke softly as that was the only thing his tired voice could muster. "Angel, I'm home."

He was greeted with a soft, kind smile from his other half sitting on the couch. "Welcome back, handsome." He smiled back, but then his smile faded as he realized something unpleasant. "Did you sleep on the couch?" A sheepish smile arose from his question. "Would you be mad if I said yes?" He sighs. Not mad or disappointed. Simply worried. "Angel, you're sick. You shouldn't be sleeping on a stiff, uncomfortable couch while you're sick."

He sits down on the couch and holds his Angel close but not tight as that is the only way to calm himself down.

"Baby, sleeping on the couch for one night isn't gonna kill me! I'm not that fragile." 

"I know you're not that fragile… you're strong. But your body needs time and care for it to get better…  And sleeping on a shit couch is not taking care of your body. As hard as that might be to believe." A small chuckle erupted from the both of them. "Fineeee… You may have a point." "'May?'" "Ugghhh! You definitely have a point! Better?" He chuckles softly and pulls his angel into his chest, and gives a kiss on the cheek. "Better." "Oh, wipe that smug smirk off your fac-" a sentence was interrupted by a cough. And then another. And then a series of coughs…

Until blood is coughed out.

"Angel!" A voice filled with emergency and worry as he puts his hands on his Angel's  back as gently as possible. "Gabe, I'm fine, I promise. "No, you're not. Coughing up blood is far from fine!" His wife quickly rebutted, trying her best to calm her husband down. "And so is stressing about it, Gabriel…" she gently held his face in her hands, although the gentleness was partially because of her weakness.

She caressed his cheek in an attempt to soothe him. "I know it might be a hard task, but please don't stress. The most you can do is be here. And that's enough. 'Cause you've been here since we first started dating." She gave him a smile that was bright yet weak in order to ease his mind, and all He could do was silently let his tears fall while his wife held his face. "Gabriel…" She brought him to his chest and softly stroked his head. After a few minutes, Gabe finally spoke. Although it was barely over a whisper. "Thank God I got Frank to babysit so David isn't here to see this… He doesn't need to see his father like this…" she smiled solemnly. "I'll miss our boy… And I'll miss you too… I barely got to see him grow up and reach his full potential." her voice cracked, too full of emotion to speak properly. Gabe croaked out. "Don't say things that… Please don't." She laughed sadly. "You're right. What am I saying? We're gonna grow old. And we're gonna see our son at his wedding all fancied up. And then we're gonna be the amazing grandparents who spoil our grandchildren and child-in-law…" Gabe's wife's positivity made him smile and laugh. "You're right. That's exactly what's gonna happen. " He wiped his tears and kissed her, and she gladly accepted his lips. She whispered softly with her arms around his neck. "Let's go to bed, big guy." He picked her up with ease and carried her to their bed, and he gently laid her down and crawled in next to her. "Can I lay on your chest?" "Of course, Angel. You don't ever have to ask…" The sound of his heartbeat soothed her, and the feeling of her on his chest soothed him.

Until she spoke up. "You wanna know what's one of the worst things about me being sick?" "What, Angel." "You're not nearly as rough with me in bed as you used to. I mean, it's a real letdown!" He let out a surprised laugh. "Christ, Angel! You are a menace!" She giggled maniacally in his chest and held him close. "Well, since you love me because I'm a menace, I'll just take that as a compliment!" And she was right. Gabe did love her because she was a menace. But he also loved her for so much more than just that.

@why-me-marti @6-atlas-6 @theratisbackanditsinyourkitchen @justaclownwholikesducks @your-local-mom-whore @annahhopee @capitalisticveins @boeeswrld @zozosrandomthings @wippisboo @frog-0n-a-l0g @lemonnoodles @tanker-redactedaudio

[euclydya]

THAT DOES!! and also that's Hilarious oh my god @takemetotheastralagain Volo can keep his Pokemon at a cost HFJDJFJFJF

another question regarding people that were smuggled in, if you don't mind! [lighthearted]

SOOOOO Volo was successfully smuggled in, I know that. But! He's a Pokemon trainer! I assume his team also got smuggled in, since he's never seen without their pokeballs on him somewhere, but my question is would they count as Outside Powers and be unavailable? Or are they also fair game?

[Pokeballs can canonically be unusable in some circumstances so if they're unavailable despite still being in their Pokeballs that's cool, but Also they get automatically released if their pokeballs are broken or heavily damaged—if that were to happen would that be okay? I Prommy My Friend And I Writing Our Lore Fics Will Not Try To Godmode Shit With Pokemon LDNDJDKDKCKCKF though that'd fit into Volo's character bc he tried (and failed!) to do that in his source lmao]

sorry for all the questions btw but THANK YOU for taking the time to answer em!! Ik this is all for fun n shit but I don't wanna. Accidentally Break Rules Somehow y'know FHHFDJDJDJ

okay here's the funniest way to resolve this. he can let them out of the pokeballs and order them around but they are depowered like jesus. they are simply fancy animals. unless it's like. necessary to their life or like. funny.

like if its a charmander they still produce tail fire but can't do attacks like an animal couldn't do. it can fuck you up with the teeth and set you on fire with the tail

if its an eevee. thats just an animal.

lets actually say they can keep like. their default attack. like the first one they can do. the showrunner is powering them down but can't do it all the way.

uh basically they're allowed to be MORE powerful than firestar but LESS powerful than Percy.