#if it's nasty I will block and/or report as needed
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jewishconvertthings · 1 year ago
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The amount of incredibly stupid and intentionally bad faith messages I have gotten after these posts is proving why I avoid this topic at all costs. This blog is a positive space and I will keep it that way. I will absolutely not be engaging with anyone on this at all. Save your breath and find something productive to do with your time.
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payidaresque · 1 month ago
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tumblr removed the block button
??????????????
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the4n4juggalo · 30 days ago
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predator masterlist - last updated Nov 12th 10:48pm GMT
@doomhalos / @newstarz (deactivated)
would send nudes to minors, calling it th1nspo
would ask minors sexual questions
lying about age — i talked to him twice, 1st time he was a 17 yr old girl, next he was a 15 yr old girl
@talktome-in-dms / @b0nesandblo0d
asks for nude photos from minors
pressuring
@fawnhey232 / @ironingboard151 / @bambionicee224 / @hungarycat234 anyone that says "i see u need a dom right? or a coach?"
this is Jason or J - his discord username is @jasong0101 is user ID is @1286706727936462871 just incase he changes the name of his discord
has been on edblr for YEARS
asks sexual questions of minors
i hate this guy specifically
the good thing about him is that he wastes no time. if you tell him he's not interested he'll block you. he's been around so long that he doesn't have the patience to actually gr00m anyone
@blu3b3rry10v3sblgg3sttarg3t not a predator but a bully
a bully
spammer
didn't take down a photo when asked
claims to not be on edblr but was also very active on my alt and harassed me specifically a lot
obsessed with blueberrylover
@persona-nongrata
general coach, avoid
@robryebeach
submitted by user
@nicotheavo
submitted by user
@anacoachrb
in the name
@archwizud
asked 14 yr old for nude bcs
@schlumpfinchen5678 / @anabound8765
typical coach be cautious of the name Unbetitelt (means untitled in german but a lot of the time it is a specific predator in germany. not all the time tho, but keep ur guard up)
@edc0ach
in the name
@justasaddom
VERY sexual towards minors
was in a ed discord server full of minors and was sexual towards them
@jellyfish-tumb
submitted by user
@jollymusicgarden
typical coach
@leftwitchperson / @theghostemo
asking for certain types of videoa
claims to not do anything with minors
@furiousmagazineavenue
VERY aggressive
very demanding
very sexual towards minors
@montsealavern / @montsealavern2 / @montsealavern3 / @montsealavernrecover
very sexual towards minors (im so tired of writing that)
@princeofperfect
submitted by user
@stalkeeeeerrr
asking for multiple minors discord to "coach" them
@fastinglifestyle
submitted by user
@hazeldasel - not a predator, but makes fun of misogyny so i'd block him too
making fun of women's problems
@wolveshavenoking
typical coach
@happycrownstranger
submitted by user
@demeville
submitted by user
@stupiddisaster
fetishist
@freegoateekitten
coach
fetishist
WEIRDO
@pilappokok
typical coach
@jollykoalaperfection
fetishist
coach
creeper
pedo
@doominfinite
not even a coach, just a pedo
@angelicdomination
submitted by user
@hungryhungrierhungriest
submitted by user
@wisefanluminary / @mysteriouslygloriousmiracle
typical coach
@bismuthbruno
typical coach
@youcallmedaddy
coach
major harassment
@0nthesideo1
typical coach
@prettyyoungthug119
not a coach, just a predator
@emptydollly
coach
@getworseforme
coach
pedo
nasty fucking piece of shit ew
discord user is the same — ID is @1301988634383089684 just incase he changes his username
@qualityblizzardangel
pretends to care about you then asks for sexual favours
gross-
@pri3st00
Just a fucking weird ass pedo
Coach also
Predatory as hell
How are you 19 and a pedo, touch grass
@anacoachd - termed or deleted
typical coach
@sweetsadisticdadbf
pedophille
@ohtothenoes
predator
@daddyy4uu
predator
@mathteachersmut
predator
@ldparkmd66 - termed or deleted
predator
@knottyolderpervv - termed or deleted
predator
@jovialrebelwasteland
coach
@mean-old-coot
married man (56 yr old?) talking to minors
coach
fetishist
@magicalpolicenerd
"repond quickly - i can help you"
coach - mega pushy
just know its that person whenever you get a DM like that
this person always deletes his accounts super fast before he can get reported
@cheerdaddy4you
coach
yucky ew
@llmakeyouempty
creeper
pedo
@giostisapolias
open pedophile
follow for more updates!
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fvsm4x · 1 month ago
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S1 E8 — ☆ S(CREAM)
pairing. Toji fushiguro x reader
Toji Fushiguro has taken on the Ghostface persona, and he's got his next target in sight. They receive unsettling phone calls, teasing them about their every move.
cw. ghostface! toji f. x female reader, phonesex, dirty talk, stalking, masturbation, fingering, 18+, mdni, kinda nasty idk, nsfw, i forgot how to write smut, wc. 5k
tagging. @sadmonke @collectionofdolls @1t4d0r1 @glazedtear @madamechrissy
kinktober — jjk mlist
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The soft click of your shoes against the pavement echoed down the quiet street as you made your way home from work, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You pull your jacket a little tighter around yourself, lost in your thoughts. It had been a long day at the office, one filled with endless emails, missed deadlines, and an obnoxiously long meeting that seemed like it would never end. Your feet ache, your shoulders feel stiff, and all you can think about is getting home, slipping into something comfortable, and maybe having a quiet night to yourself.
The walk from work was something you usually enjoyed. It gave you time to unwind, the steady rhythm of your footsteps soothing after the chaos of the day. The streets are almost deserted now, the city winding down as the sky deepens into the navy of early night. You pass the same café on the corner, its lights dim, the usual crowd inside reduced to a couple sitting by the window. Your regular path was so familiar it had become second nature—left turn at the florist, then straight for three blocks before you reached your apartment building.
Your phone buzzes with a text, and you glance down briefly, half-expecting it to be a colleague asking about some report or project. But it’s not. Just a random notification. You sigh, slipping the phone back into your pocket.
Finally, you turn onto your street, the comforting sight of your apartment building just up ahead. The dim, yellow glow of the streetlights bathes the area in a soft haze, and you feel a small wave of relief wash over you. Home.
You reach the door to your building, your keys jingling as you pull them from your bag. The lock clicks open, and you step inside the familiar hallway, the faint scent of floor cleaner lingering in the air. The quiet hum of the elevator welcomes you as you hit the button for your floor, the gentle whirring sound filling the silence as you lean back against the wall, allowing yourself a moment to just breathe.
The doors slide open with a soft ding, and you step out, heading down the narrow hallway toward your apartment. The keys feel heavier in your hand as you unlock the door, pushing it open and stepping into the warmth of your living space. You let out a long sigh, kicking off your shoes near the entrance and tossing your jacket over the back of a chair.
It’s good to be home.
You flick on the kitchen light, casting the small space in a warm glow. The apartment is quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. You move with the ease of routine, opening a cabinet to pull out a pot and setting it on the stove. A quick glance in the fridge tells you all you need to know: there’s nothing fancy to cook tonight, so pasta it is.
As you fill the pot with water and set it to boil, you slip out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable—an oversized shirt and soft shorts that make you feel instantly more relaxed. The stress of the day begins to melt away as the water heats up on the stove, and you hum softly to yourself, moving about the kitchen.
The pasta is quick, something simple to satisfy your hunger. You stir the pot absentmindedly, glancing at the time. The quiet ticking of the clock fills the room as you lean against the counter, checking your phone again—nothing new. Your coworkers have gone quiet for the night, and the world outside your apartment feels distant, almost peaceful.
Once the pasta is done, you drain it, mixing in a quick sauce. You settle down at the small table in your living room, twirling the fork absentmindedly in your hand as you scroll through your phone, skimming headlines and half-reading a few messages. It’s a simple, ordinary evening.
Halfway through your meal, the phone rings.
You pause, looking down at the device in your hand. It’s late. Who could be calling? The number flashing on the screen is unfamiliar, a long string of digits that makes you hesitate before answering. You swallow the bite of pasta, wiping your hands quickly before swiping to pick up the call.
You glance at the screen. Unknown number.
With a sigh, you answer. “Hello?”
There’s a brief, unsettling silence on the other end. You’re about to hang up when a voice finally speaks, low and smooth, with a hint of amusement. “Do you like scary movies?”
Your brow furrows, and you can’t help but let out a nervous laugh. A prank call? Really? “What?”
“Scary movies,” the voice repeats, slow and deliberate. “You got a favorite?”
You pause, feeling a flicker of unease. “Uh… I guess. Who is this?”
The voice chuckles softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Let’s not worry about that. Just answer the question. Halloween, maybe? Or Scream? You strike me as someone who likes the classics.”
Your stomach knots, that unease building. “Look, if this is some kind of joke, I’m not—”
“I’m not joking,” the voice interrupts smoothly, an edge creeping into his tone. “Humor me. Do you have a favorite? Or do you get too scared to even watch?”
You swallow, standing up from the couch as your nerves start to catch up with you. “Yeah, sure. Halloween, I guess,” you mutter, glancing around the apartment. You move to the window, pulling the curtain closed, feeling strangely exposed.
“Mmm, a good choice,” the voice replies, almost approving. “Michael Myers… a man who knows how to hunt. He likes to watch his prey. Stalk them. Toy with them.”
A chill runs down your spine. You grip the phone tighter, the knot of anxiety in your stomach tightening. “Who the hell are you?” you demand, moving away from the window.
Another soft chuckle, darker this time. “That’s not the question you should be asking,” the voice says, lowering to a near-whisper. “What you should be asking is… where am I?”
Your blood runs cold, and you glance around the apartment again, eyes scanning every shadowed corner, every doorway. “What do you want?” you snap, trying to sound braver than you feel.
“I want to play a game,” the voice answers, playful now. “I ask a question, you answer. If you get it right, nothing happens. But if you get it wrong… well, let’s just say, things will get interesting.”
“Are you kidding me?” you say, panic rising in your chest. “This isn’t funny. I’m calling the police.”
“Call them,” the voice purrs, unfazed. “But by the time they get there, you’ll already be mine. Let’s see how smart you are, hmm?” He pauses, the tension thickening before he continues. “Am I outside… or already inside?”
Your breath catches. You glance toward the door, the windows, your bedroom—any place someone could be hiding. The silence in your apartment feels suffocating, every shadow threatening to come alive.
“You’re… outside,” you say, voice trembling, praying it’s true.
The voice lets out a low, dark laugh. “Wrong.”
Your heart leaps into your throat as the line goes dead. You stand frozen, staring at the phone, your mind racing. Is he here? Is someone really inside your apartment?
Before you can react, you hear it—a faint knock, soft but unmistakable, coming from somewhere deeper inside the apartment. Your stomach drops, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your feet stay rooted to the floor.
Then, the phone rings again.
Your shaking hand hovers over it before you answer, dreading what comes next.
“Miss me already?” the voice teases, his tone darker now, more intimate. “I think it’s time we get to know each other finally. I’ve been watching you for so long, and I’ve got to say… you’ve been driving me wild.”
You swallow, the bile rising in your throat.
“Those cute little outfits you wear around the house, thinking you’re all alone,” he continues, his voice thick with perverted glee. “Do you even know how many times I’ve thought about what I’d do to you if I got my hands on you?”
Your breath hitches, and you grip the phone so hard your knuckles whiten.
“I bet you like it,” he whispers. “Knowing someone’s watching you, fantasizing about every inch of you. You wouldn’t be able to stop me if I came over right now, would you?”
Your pulse races, disgust and terror warring inside you.
“I can see it,” he goes on, voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “You want it. You’re scared, but it’s turning you on, isn’t it? You’d let me inside if I asked nicely.”
The line clicks dead again, leaving you trembling in the oppressive silence, every part of you screaming that you’re no longer alone.
You stand there, gripping the phone like it’s a lifeline, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest it drowns out everything else. The silence in the apartment is suffocating, every creak of the floorboards and rustle of fabric suddenly amplified in the stillness.
Before you can even begin to process what to do next, the phone rings again. The same unknown number.
Your hand trembles as you answer, and before you can speak, his voice cuts through the line, smooth and teasing.
“You know, you didn’t even check all the rooms yet. ”
A chill creeps up your spine, and your eyes dart to the hallway leading to your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, just like before, and now every inch of your skin feels too tight, too vulnerable.
“Why are you doing this?” you manage to whisper, hating the way your voice trembles.
“Because you’re fun to play with,” he replies, his voice dark and indulgent. “The way you’re so tense, so nervous… I can practically hear your heart racing through the phone. You’re scared, aren’t you?”
You swallow hard, every instinct screaming at you to hang up, to run, but you’re frozen, unable to tear yourself away from the phone.
“I bet you’re wondering if I can see you right now,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “I can, by the way. That shirt you’re wearing? A little loose, don’t you think? It slips down your shoulder just enough for me to imagine all sorts of things.”
You glance down at yourself, pulling your oversized shirt tighter around you, feeling exposed in ways you hadn’t before. The way he speaks feels so invasive, as if his eyes are crawling over you, violating you with nothing but his words.
“I’ve seen you like this before, you know,” he goes on, his tone turning almost playful, as if he’s enjoying your discomfort.
Your breath hitches, the tension unbearable as you feel like he’s lurking in every shadow, every dark corner of your home.
“I bet you’re wondering what I’d do if I were there right now,” he purrs, his voice dripping with perverse excitement. “I could just watch for a little longer, or I could tease you a bit more. Maybe whisper in your ear while you’re curled up in bed, thinking you’re all alone.”
The mental image sends a shiver down your spine, your body tensing as you imagine him closer than ever, hovering just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“But I like this better,” he adds, his voice dipping into something darker, more seductive. “I like knowing you’re trembling on the other side of this call, knowing I’ve got you wrapped around my finger with just a few words. I don’t even need to touch you to get inside your head, do I?”
You choke on your breath, every inch of you bristling with fear and disgust. His words are like poison, seeping into your thoughts, making it harder to think straight.
“I could make you beg, you know,” he says, almost casually, like he’s stating a simple fact. “You’d fight it at first, try to act tough. But eventually, you’d give in. You’d want it—want me. It’s only a matter of time.”
Your grip tightens on the phone, your breathing uneven as you press your back against the wall, trying to put as much space between you and the dark corners of your apartment as possible. But no matter how far you move, it feels like he’s still there, watching, waiting.
“You’ll think about me tonight,” he whispers, the words slithering through the phone. “When you crawl into bed and turn off the lights, you’ll wonder if I’m watching you. If I’m already inside, just waiting for the right moment to make myself known.”
You swallow hard, your throat dry, and the silence on your end only seems to spur him on.
“And when you start to feel a little too warm, a little too tense, you’ll imagine what it’d be like if I were there. What my hands would feel like on you, what it would be like if I whispered in your ear, telling you all the filthy things I’d do.”
You shut your eyes tight, trying to block out the images his words conjure, but it’s impossible. His voice is too smooth, too confident, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You might even start to like it,” he teases, his tone growing more wicked. “The idea of being watched, being hunted. Of having someone who’s always just a step behind you, waiting to catch you when you least expect it. Maybe you’d even start to crave it.”
You stand there, gripping the phone tightly, heart racing. The silence in the apartment feels like a thick blanket, suffocating, as if you’re trapped in a nightmare you can’t escape. But he’s still there, his voice sliding back into your ear, smooth and taunting.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, a hint of mockery lacing his words. “You could just hang up, you know. But I don’t think you will. You’re too curious, aren’t you? Deep down, you want to know how this ends.”
You shake your head, trying to push the heat of fear away, even as it clings to you. “I don’t want anything to do with this!” you insist, though your voice wavers.
“Really?” he replies, the tone of amusement in his voice clear. “Because I can hear it in your voice. You’re scared, yes, but there’s something else too. A thrill, maybe? The way your heart races when I talk to you… it’s intoxicating, isn’t it?”
You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. It’s infuriating how he can read you so easily, how he twists your emotions like a puppet on a string.
“I know you’re imagining it,” he continues, his voice low and seductive. “What it would be like to have me in your space, the way my presence would change everything. Just think about it… how vulnerable you’d be, how exciting it would feel.”
You bite your lip, trying to fight against the rush of sensations his words provoke. “You think you can intimidate me with your words? You don’t scare me,” you say, forcing bravado into your voice.
His laughter is low and mocking. “Oh, sweet girl, you’re adorable. But I think you know the truth. I can see right through your little act. It’s cute, really. You want to be brave, but your voice trembles just enough to betray you.”
Your skin prickles as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “Stop it,” you whisper, but it comes out almost pleading.
“Stop? Why would I do that when you’re so much fun to talk to?” he replies, voice silky smooth. “You’re just one big bundle of nerves, waiting for something to break. I can’t resist. I want to know how far I can push you. What’s going through that pretty little head of yours right now?”
You hesitate, caught off guard. The question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. What do you say? That you’re terrified? That his words send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in you that you didn’t know existed?
“I can imagine the way you’d squirm under my gaze, knowing I’m only a breath away. I’d take my time, tease you until you begged me for it.”
Your breath hitches at the imagery, and you clench your fists, trying to regain control over your body and your thoughts. “You’re sick,” you manage to say, but even you can hear the uncertainty in your voice.
“Am I?” he muses, feigning innocence. “Or am I simply more in touch with your desires than you are? You want to feel alive, don’t you? The thrill of danger mixed with something darker? It’s the ultimate rush.”
You feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your face, and you fight to hold on to your composure. “This isn’t a game,” you say, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.
“Of course, it is. It’s always a game,” he replies, the playful lilt in his voice sending shivers down your spine. “And I play to win. Right now, you’re just a player trying to hide your cards, but I see them all. The way you bite your lip, the way your breath quickens… I can practically taste your fear mixed with excitement.”
“Shut up,” you snap, trying to sound fierce, but it only makes him laugh again, that low, rich sound that makes your stomach churn.
“Why would I do that? We’re having so much fun,” he teases. “But let’s talk about you. What do you really want? Do you want me to stop? Or do you want to know what I’d do if I had you right here? No escape, just you and me.”
Your heart races as his words wash over you, igniting something deep inside you that you can’t quite put a name to. You want to run, to hide, but at the same time, there’s a dark curiosity pulling you in, urging you to explore the depths of this twisted conversation.
“I… I don’t want anything from you,” you say weakly, even as you can feel the truth lying just beneath the surface.
“Liar,” he counters, the smirk evident in his voice. “You’re completely captivated. Just imagine the thrill of giving in, letting go of all your inhibitions. How good it would feel to surrender to the fear and the excitement, to let me take control. I know you want it, and I can show you just how fun it can be.”
His words hang in the air, heavy and charged with an energy that feels electric. You feel torn between fear and the undeniable allure of his temptation, caught in a web of your own making.
“Just think about it,” he murmurs, voice dripping with seduction. “What would you do if I was right behind you? Whispering all those nasty things in your ear while you lay there, completely at my mercy. Would you fight me, or would you let go? Would you beg for more?”
Your heart races at the thought, and you grip the phone tighter, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control. You can’t let him see how much he’s getting to you, how easily he’s breaching your defenses.
“I’m not afraid of you,” you declare, though your voice is shaky.
“Of course, you are,” he replies, that teasing tone never leaving his voice. “And I’m going to enjoy every moment of breaking you down, layer by layer, until you’re begging for my touch. Until you’re mine.”
The words settle like a weight in the air between you, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t just a game anymore. There’s something darker at play, and as he continues to weave his words around you, you realize you’re not just scared—you’re hooked.
„You’re wondering what it would be like, aren’t you? What it would feel like if I touched you… right now.” he murmurs
Your breath catches, and you curse yourself silently for how quickly the idea takes root in your mind. He’s nowhere near you, you remind yourself, but the images flash through your thoughts anyway—what his hands would feel like on you, the way his voice would sound in your ear, soft and cruel at the same time.
“I can picture it,” he says, voice low, teasing, drawing you in. “You sitting there, trying to act tough, but you‘re already thinking about it. I know you are.”
Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, the tension unbearable, and you find yourself shifting slightly, the fabric of your clothes brushing against your skin in a way that feels… wrong, yet strangely electric.
“Go on,” he whispers, his tone wrapping around you like a command. “No one’s watching but me. I want to hear you. I want to know what you do when you think no one’s paying attention. Let me guide you.”
You swallow hard, the heat rising in your cheeks, your pulse quickening. You shouldn’t. Every part of you knows this is wrong, twisted. But his voice is so convincing, so smooth, like a constant pull at the back of your mind.
“You’re already feeling it, aren’t you?” he continues, that mocking lilt in his voice never wavering. “That heat pooling in your stomach, spreading lower. It’d feel good to give in, wouldn’t it? To just… touch yourself. You’re already thinking about it. Why not go a little further?”
Your fingers twitch, the suggestion creeping in as your body betrays you. A part of you hates him for how easily he’s gotten under your skin, for how the thought alone has your body reacting without permission.
“I bet you’re so tense right now,” he says, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Just aching for relief. You want to fight it, but I can hear the hesitation. Why fight it when you can feel good?”
You let out a shaky breath, your hand hovering at the hem of your shirt, indecision gnawing at you. The fear still grips you, but there’s something else there too—a twisted curiosity. You want to prove him wrong, to show him you’re stronger than this, but the tension is too thick, too overwhelming.
“I’m right here with you,” he whispers. “I’ll guide you. Slowly, now. Run your fingers over your skin. Feel how warm you are. Just start at your stomach.”
Your breath comes faster, and despite everything, your hand moves of its own accord, fingers lightly brushing over your stomach, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. The simple act, under his coaxing, feels like crossing a line you didn’t even know existed.
“Good girl,” he purrs, his voice thick with approval. “See? It’s not so hard, is it? Now go a little lower. Don’t rush it. Let yourself feel everything.”
The moment stretches long and heavy, thick with the weight of his voice and the growing heat in your body. Your fingers hesitate at the waistband of your pants, nerves battling with desire, but the way he speaks to you—so sure, so certain—leaves little room for doubt. You feel a pull, an urge to obey, even though every logical part of you screams to stop.
"That's it," he murmurs, a low, approving hum. "You're already giving in, aren't you? I can practically feel the way your body is reacting. You’re tense, aching for it."
Your breath comes faster, shallow and ragged. His voice is like a current dragging you under, luring you into dangerous waters where resistance feels impossible. Slowly, almost unwillingly, your fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants, the fabric of your clothes shifting against your skin, making every nerve stand on end. The warmth of your hand feels like a shock as you brush lightly over the soft skin of your abdomen, your pulse quickening.
"Good girl," he purrs, and the words hit you with a force that sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re doing so well. Now, don’t rush it. Feel everything. I want you to take your time with this."
Your hand moves lower, grazing the skin just above your hips, and you can’t help the way your body tenses in response. The tension between what you know is wrong and the primal urge building inside of you twists painfully in your stomach. Yet the further your fingers drift, the more the sensations seem to take over, drowning out everything but the heat pooling inside you.
"Let yourself enjoy it," he continues, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Imagine it’s my hand instead of yours, teasing you, touching you just enough to drive you mad. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having no control, just feeling everything I want you to feel."
Your breath catches, and without thinking, you press your legs together, trying to ease the tension building between your thighs. Your fingers brush against the edge of your underwear, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you. His voice is the only thing grounding you now, guiding your every move.
"Lower," he instructs softly, the authority in his tone undeniable. "Touch yourself where you need it most. You’ve been holding back, haven’t you? So pent up, so desperate for relief. You don’t have to hold back anymore. Just give in to me."
Your body reacts on instinct, your fingers sliding lower, grazing over the dampness that’s already formed between your legs. The sensation is almost too much, your back arching slightly as a low whimper escapes your lips. His laughter on the other end of the line is quiet but smug, as if he knew all along you’d break.
"That’s it," he whispers, voice like silk. "You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you? I knew you would be. I can hear it in the way you breathe, the way your body can’t help but react to me. Keep going."
Your fingers circle slowly, teasing yourself just as he instructed, and the slow build of pleasure makes it hard to think straight. You bite down on your lip, trying to stifle the sounds rising in your throat, but his voice makes it impossible to stay composed.
"Don’t be shy," he teases, and you can hear the wicked grin in his words. "I want to hear you. I want to know how good it feels. You can’t hide from me. I know exactly what you’re doing, how you’re touching yourself right now."
Your hand moves faster, instinctively seeking more, the heat inside you growing unbearable. Your breath comes out in soft, ragged gasps, each one betraying how close you are to the edge. The friction beneath your fingers is maddening, every touch sending waves of pleasure through your body that make you dizzy.
"Imagine it’s me," he says again, his voice lower, darker. "My fingers instead of yours. How gentle I’d be at first, just enough to drive you crazy. Then I’d go harder, make you beg for it. You’d love it. I know you would."
The image flashes in your mind unbidden, his hands on you instead, the weight of his presence pressing down on you. It sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and without thinking, your hips roll against your hand, chasing the sensation, desperate for more.
"Tell me," he demands softly, his voice tightening with desire. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."
A soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and the sound of it seems to embolden him, his tone growing even more possessive, more commanding.
"That’s my girl," he purrs, and you can almost feel the satisfaction radiating from him. "I knew you couldn’t resist. I knew I’d break you down. Now don’t stop. Keep touching yourself. I want to hear you come for me."
Your body is on fire now, every touch, every movement bringing you closer to the edge. You can barely focus, your mind clouded with need, with the image of him watching you, controlling you with just his voice. Your hand moves faster, the tension inside you building with every second, and the sounds that escape you are louder now, harder to contain.
"That’s it," he murmurs, his voice smooth and inviting, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "You’re so close now. I can hear it in your breaths, the way they’re coming faster, more frantic. You’re going to come for me, aren’t you? Just let go. I want to hear you scream."
You breathe out, the air catching in your throat, your mind hazy with desire. “w-whatchya name..?” you manage to stammer, your voice barely a whisper, thick with tension.
Silence stretches on the line, an agonizing pause that only heightens the anticipation building inside you. His absence of an answer sends a shiver down your spine, and the tension swells, igniting the heat pooling deep within you.
Then, suddenly, his voice cuts through the haze, low and teasing. "All you need to know is how to give in to me."
Your breath hitches, your body responding to his words in ways you can’t fully comprehend. Each syllable draws you closer, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely. The pleasure has reached a fever pitch now, your heart racing in time with your gasping breaths, and you can feel the inevitable tide of release crashing closer, threatening to overwhelm you.
You try to hold on, to fight against the surge, but your body betrays you. With a final, desperate gasp, you let go. The waves of pleasure hit you like a freight train, crashing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Your muscles tighten, the sensations rolling through you in rhythmic pulses that seem to blur the line between reality and fantasy. You gasp for air, your head spinning as each wave leaves you more vulnerable than the last.
Your hand slows, trembling against your skin, the aftershocks of ecstasy radiating through your body. Even as you come down from your high, his voice remains, soft and satisfied on the other end of the line, grounding you even as your mind is still swirling.
He lets out a quiet, almost playful laugh. "It’s Toji, sweetheart. The one that always leaves Coffee at your table."
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© fvsm4x 2023/4 : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.
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exdivine · 3 months ago
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the man who harassed and stalked me literally said i was “like amber heard” because i was screaming at him to just leave me alone, stop showing up at my job, stop showing up at my house.
i went out ONCE with this man, rejected him, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. he said i was his abuser because i hung out with him once and he thought it was a date. he said i took advantage of him because he bought me dinner ONCE that i didn’t ask for. he said i “ghosted” him because i blocked his number when he wouldn’t stop calling. he said i was abusive because i called him a stalker and told my loved ones i was being stalked. he said i was abusing police power by reporting him. he called me an abuser until the day the restraining order was put in place.
i screamed so loud at him when i was at my breaking point. he was at my job again, at night, i was alone. i’ve never been so scared. i’ve never screamed at anyone like that in my life. i was mean. i called him horrible names. i scared him.
i almost believed him when he said i was the abuser in this situation. when he said that i didn’t give him a chance and i was a big meanie for refusing his encroachment on my life. or maybe i could’ve prevented this somehow, i could’ve done something different to make him not do this to me.
if a man decides he wants to stalk and abuse you, he will. there’s nothing you can do to prevent him from making that choice. but you can and should fight back. when you find yourself a target of male violence at the individual level, you scratch and claw your way out.
i remember thinking, i need to put up a fight or this man will murder me. that’s the only thing i felt i could do to take back control. “no” and “stop” wasn’t enough for him. i needed to be mean and nasty and crazy. and even that didn’t make him stop.
i felt crazy. he made me feel crazy. i was crazy, because i was being stalked, and he told me it was my fault.
and he loved johnny depp… oh how that man LOVED johnny depp
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yukinss · 10 months ago
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people’s princess | yt22
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pairing: yuki tsunoda x fem!horner! reader summary: in which yuki is dating the christian horner’s daughter. note: i mentioned something awhile back about a horner!reader fic … so i kinda delivered. it’s kinda short since i learned that on mobile i only get a 10 image limit 🌝 trust i will be doing the rest of my smaus on web, so future smaus will be longer! promise, cross my heart!  note 2: i started this before alphatauri changed their name … and i’m most definitely not using the visacashapprb @ in my smau. i love you, yuki, but absolutely not.
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ynhorner
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liked by yukitsunoda0511, christianhorner, and others
ynhorner yukiroos !!
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user i didn’t know yuki and oscar were chill like that
yukitsunoda0511 i was attacked. it’s not funny to post my attack
⤷ ynhorner jerry didn’t attack you, he just wanted a hug
⤷ yukitsunoda0511 he literally attacked me
maxverstappen1 barf what is that second picture
⤷ ynhorner barf what is your face
⤷ maxverstappen1 i’m telling christian
⤷ ynhorner you’re dead to me
user i love yn and max’s friendship
gerihalliwellhorner missing you both!! ❤️
liked by ynhorner and yukitsunoda0511
redbullracing looking forward to seeing you in the OUR garage again
⤷ alphataurif1 um you mean OUR garage
⤷ ynhorner the girls a fighting 🫢
pierregasly barf gross nasty
⤷ ynhorner this is why i like kika more than you
⤷ francisa.cgomes i love you too 🫶🫶🫶
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yukitsunoda0511
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liked by ynhorner, pierregasly, and others
yukitsunoda0511 family dinner 🍽️
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gerihalliwellhorner it was lovely having you, yuki!! we have to do this again soon!
⤷ yukitsunoda0511 thank you for having me, geri! checking my schedule as we speak!
user yuki tsunoda and ginger spice, the duo i didn’t know i need
pierregasly my place next 😁
ynhorner idk whose dog is in the third pic … she was very sweet though
⤷ yukitsunoda0511 i heard something about petsitting for a friend
user OTIS
christianhorner not very family friendly pg clean on the third slide
⤷ ynhorner don’t you have ears to clean, old man?
⤷ christianhorner you’re no longer welcomed in the red bull
garage
⤷ alphataurif1 WE WON ‼️‼️
maxverstappen1 i don’t remember getting an invite to family dinner 🌝
user the fact that max didn’t get invited is crazy to me
redbullracing stealing our team principal i see …
user THE EAR WAX COMMENT FROM YN IJBOL
user yuki with his in laws, we love to see it
alphataurif1
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liked by yukitsuonda0511, ynhorner, and others
alphataurif1 thx for banning yn from your garage redbullracing, she’s ours now 🥰
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ynusername i love you alphataurif1 admin <33
⤷ alphataurif1 I LOVE YOU TOO YN !!!! <3333
yukitsunoda0511 i could get used to this
user THE CAPTION
maxverstappen1 please keep her, i don’t want her in the garage anymore
⤷ ynhorner this is why you weren’t invited to family dinner
redbullracing WE didn’t ban her, boss man did (we will be getting her back)
user i love seeing alphatauri and red bull fight over yn, because i would too
user yn is the face of alphatauri (trust)
ynhorner
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liked by yukitsuonda0511, maxverstappen1, and others
ynhorner BOYFI APPRECIATED POST !!
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yukitsunoda0511 i love you to the moon and saturn
⤷ ynhorner yuki :( i love YOU to the moon and saturn!
user MOTHER AND FATHER
liamlawson30 he’s got a little something on his face
⤷ yukitsunoda0511 blocked. reported.
user the boyfriend effect looks good on him
danielricciardo my fav couple 🫶
liked by ynhorner and yukitsunoda0511
user they make me sick (in the most loving way possible)
maxverstappen1 you guys are cute i guess
⤷ ynhorner i know! tell kelly i’m looking forward to seeing her in the paddock this weekend 😁
⤷ maxverstappen1 👍
user yuki is so lucky …
nyckdevries scooter race rematch when?
⤷ yukitsunoda0511 rematch?? there was a scooter race??
⤷ ynhorner you were busy with car stuff, so nyck and i
decided to race scooters on the trace 😁
user WHEN IS IT MY TURN
user idc what anyone says, i love nyck and yn’s little friendship
⤷ user no fr it feels like it came out of nowhere, but it works
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dreadfutures · 2 months ago
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regarding sept 19:
This needs to be clarified because misunderstanding has resulted in some usually very nice people getting incredibly nasty and bullying others.
This past week, many people - press, and content creators - were allowed a hands-on experience of the new Dragon Age game. They played for about 6 hours. The attendees of this event are under an NDA until Sept 19.
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After September 19th, the people who played the game are allowed to speak about it in some amount of detail. The press embargo is lifted, so to speak.
No one who attended this event has come out, twirled their mustache, and said they're going to spoil major game stuff without warning.
If you think you're about to tell me that yes, someone did - no she didn't. I know it's too much to hope for but someday you must learn to not hear every tweet and text as if the other person was personally intending to harm you. Few people really are so malicious. If you approach text neutrally you can tell when people are, or not. Really.
They have instead warned that there will be info shared from this event, probably tagged and warned about (hopefully), but the reporting, sharing, reposting, etc., of that info will be - like all things in fandom - a mess dependent on individual fans. If you care about spoilers at all, get your filters and blocks ready for that. For sure!
But again, it only seems like they had 6 hours or so to play. I doubt the people who attended will be malicious or rubbing stuff in our faces. I doubt the people who attended will even be spilling every single deet. Most people who we know & are connected to the fandom that were in attendance have said they themselves avoided main game stuff, because they didn't want to be spoiled either.
So that is the real information, as best we know it, without fear mongering about a flood of spoilers - and do with that what you will!
A lot of people are starting to wholly block all of the new game's tags because they don't want to see anything else until it drops! This is definitely the time to start. Maybe you do need to go dark and hop off the internet to keep your boundaries, or maybe you feel confident in your dashboard, your friends, and your filtered content, that you won't be seeing untagged spoilers being shared. (I'm in the latter category; nothing has appeared on my dash without being filtered, for months.)
Control your space with the tools you have, but cruelty should not be one of them.
A lot of people (on twitter, love DA twitter, where the worst aspects of all your friends' personalities come out 😒) have been incredibly, viciously belligerent to those who attended this event. They have used really terrible language to bully them as individuals and make personal attacks against them. The dog-piling has been amplified by certain people who were not invited to that event, and by the wording of others who are giving "warnings" about spoilers running rampant, floodgates opening, mayday, everyone is going to be rubbing spoilers in your face after Sept 19.
Whatever you think about the marketing about this game - whatever you think about what EA thinks are spoilers - whatever your personal stance on what you want to know going into the game (or not):
Content creators and press, their job is to talk about the game. In detail. It's their job! Ideally they do it as (is typically done! as many of them have already been doing!) with warnings/tags/whatever when something spoilery might come up.
Harassing them and wishing them harm or calling them terrible things and slandering their character is just an expression of your own frustration, lack of control, whatever - and it's not a good look.
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onmyyan · 5 months ago
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Straight venomous CH 9 teaser
A/N: lil something to feed y'all thank you for your support I hope you enjoy this sneak peek, feedback welcome
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Bruce couldn't remember the last time he felt as relaxed as he was right now.
Sure his chest ached from a nasty kick he couldn't block on last night's patrol, and his ribs still throbbed uncomfortably from his last tango with poison ivy, but he couldn't be more at ease.
Having you under his roof, under his care, took a bone-crushing weight off his shoulders, he craved this feeling, successfully keeping a vulnerable person like you safe, this itch to be a protector was being scratched in a dangerously pleasant way, his tired blue eyes watched the monitors, different angles of you reflected in his iris's.
Unbeknownst to you, Bruce was the one who spent the most time watching you, he liked to tackle all obstacles in his life with a tenacity and vigor that made him a fearsome man to be up against, and he was using those well-honed skills against you.
He rather enjoyed this side of his (y/n), it was a soft, genuine side only he got to see.
Now, Bruce wasn't delusional by any means not like the rest of his family seemed to be, he saw the way you tensed up whenever one of his sons entered your space, the way you seemed to shrink into yourself, curl against the farthest corner of your temporary room, far from what you perceived as a threat. 
He much preferred moments like now, the rare times when you believed you were truly alone, when your fists unclenched and your face softened in the sweetest way when you allowed yourself to relax, Bruce was there every time, enjoying the peace of the moment with you.
He couldn't wait to do this the right way, to relax with you, close enough to watch the steady rise and fall of your chest, to read to you, in his deepest fantasies your head rests in his lap, your eyes fighting to stay open as he lulls you to sleep, the hand not holding the book open, gently petting your hair, your lashes would flutter as you surrendered to the peace of the moment, to the protection he offered, to the fact that as long as he was there you had nothing to worry about.
But that had to wait, he had to wait. After all, you were still adjusting.
His thumb brushes over a small handheld remote, a green light repeatedly blinking, his eyes honed in on the flash, with this small device he was able to keep your dangerous companion at bay, he'd looked at the lab results from the aliens brief stint in Bludhaven, the scientists report from their time spent studying the symbiote gave him the information he needed to construct this little countermeasure of his, it kept a high pitched frequency playing lowly throughout your room, which in turn kept you on the leash he wanted you on, a leash held tightly in his fist.
He'd eventually turn it off, and reunite you with your alien friend, that is of course once you earned his trust. Once you understood your place was by his side, by his families side 
The house was full for the first time in a long time, Bruce loved having his sons under one roof, it was rare to gather them all here, even rarer for them to be getting along as well as they had been, you'd united them in a way that had never been done before and you had no idea, Bruce would be forever grateful to you for the fact. 
He watches you read a book smiling softly at the sight
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selfloverrrrrr · 6 months ago
Note
So imagine
Y/n dating geto for 6months(depends on u)and they always support eachother and so on
Y/n knew about saturo and thought he was cool...but saturo would take pictures of y/n secretly..when he thirdwheels them or just spies on her...
He was jealous of suguru..and wanted us...
One day suguru has to work overtime and we were alone..soo gojo took it as a opportunity..and came at our door step..we opened the door..and greeted him and asked if he needed something and he said he just came in for a check and we allowed him in...we asked if he wants a drink or a snack and he says softly:yeah you...and y/n ask him again and he says water will do...so she brought the water and gave him...long story short..after a while gojo started becoming touchy and we laughed nervously and shifted more..and gojo just came closer to us(u can add more details)as we stopped him he became angry and confested about his love for us...but we declined..he kissed us blah blah blah did the nasty while stopping him(we are non-sorceres)he came inside us while telling him not 2...fast forward...gojo threatened us by saying if we spill a word he will kill geto and we kept quiet and when gojo left..we took a shower while crying cuz we felt dirty...after tht we went to bed..the next day..we woke up with someone hugging us and got scared then we saw tht it was geto...u can continue..cuz it feels like I just wrote the story😂and add somethings of the pregnancy
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Why?!
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Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, jealous Gojo ....
Summary: Gojo is jealous of Geto. because Geto was dating the one Gojo wanted. So he took it anyways.
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( All characters are aged up/18+)
Masterlist
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
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I was dating geto for 6months. We're in a healthy relationship. Like we love each other, we always support eachother and so on.... I think it's a blessing to have him as a boyfriend. He's best boyfriend ever... I love him so much and so he do. And not only that... He takes care of me soooooo well. He gives me everything I need. Literally everything...
Gojo Satoru. Best friend of Geto. I knew about saturo. Gojo and Geto were close friends...like really really close friend. Gojo was cool...but I didn't know that saturo takes pictures of me secretly..when he thirdwheels us or ..... Maybe just spies on me...
At first Gojo thought he was jealous of me because I took his best friend? But then he realised it wasn't. He was actually jealous of his own bestfriend because he also wanted his bestfriend's girlfriend...??? I was old friend of shoko and she's the one who introduced me and Geto . And he always glared at Shoko thinking why didn't she introduced him first!
One day suguru was out for work overtime. I was alone. Gojo came that night maybe he took it as an opportunity... I opened the door and greeted him. He sits on the couch. I asked if he needed something... a drink or a snack. he whispered softly "yeah you"..."I can't hear u...say loudly, Gojo!" I told him. he said "water will do" so I brought the water and gave him...After a while Gojo started becoming touchy... that was uncomfortable but I laughed nervously and shifted. The more I shift the more Gojo just cames closer. It was now getting too much uncomfortable so I stopped him. "Gojo ... Can you please shift? It's uncomfortable" I said. He glared at me as if my words made him angry. "Y/n... why can't you love me instead of Suguru?! When I fucking love you more than Suguru!" Gojo said. My eyes widened. "W-what are you saying?" I said. "I love you " Gojo said. " Gojo... you know I love Suguru " I said. "I can treat you better" he said. " Gojo! I said no!" I said.
" so... you want the hard way right???" He said. I just glared at him. He was already too close to me. But before I could run he pressed his lips on mine.
He pressed me against the couch. My back was on the couch and he climbed on top of me. " Do you think you have other options??? " He said with grinded teeth and venom in his eyes " Do Not Fucking think about Suguru when I'm the one for you!!!" He said and his hand slowly reaching up from my inner thigh. "Lemme make you forget him" he said and his hand reached my core. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside and started thursting in and out. "G-Gojo stop" I moaned loudly. "Oh... You liked that?" He smirked at me.
He started thursting his finger in and out harshly. Looking at me and smiling like a psycho which make me froze in fear. "You like getting fucked by me right???? That's why you are squeezing my fingers like that!" He whispered in my ear. "S-stop....p-please.." I begged. He looked at me again. He paused his fingers. "If I got you pragnent then you can't resist me right???!!!!" He said in a low voice. My eyes widened.
"N-no.... n-no.... I don't want this... please" I begged him. He didn't even listen to me. I tried to push his chest but nothing. In a few moments he undressed both of us. Gojo started licking on my nipple. He was being a tease. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.
I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed my leg and pulled me again in that place. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " Gojo Gojo Gojo.... please no .... G-Gojo please no... Don't do this please!!!" I begged him and tears started falling from my eyes but he didn't listen.
Gojo pushed his whole length in one slide and I scremed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was screming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thursting getting faster and harder. "This .... This is mine.... I wouldn't.... You are mine... Just mine!!!!" He said between moans. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot make my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.
He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside... G-Gojo please" I begged him. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He patted on my belly and whispered " Take my baby, sweetheart"
After that he left because he knew Geto's gonna come home soon. But before he left gojo threatened me saying if I spill a word he will kill Geto. It was getting worse! I went to take a shower. I cried the whole night. I didn't know when I fall asleep.
The next morning I woke up. Someone was cuddling me from behind. It was Suguru. I blankly looked at him. "What happened babe...is anything wrong?" He asked. "W-what... n-no...No" I replied. "Oh-ohkey" he said. "I was tired and saw u were sleeping so I decided to cuddle with you" he said and cuddled me. I scratched his head. ' I don't know what I should do and what I shouldn't '.
It was almost a year. Me and Geto were in Geto's office. I tested the pregnancy test and it was positive. And I decided to tell Geto everything. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Geto asked. " I was scared... Gojo threatened me too" I sobbed. "Babe... it's okey I'm not gonna leave you! I'm always with you... don't be scared" he said and I looked at him. Suddenly I heard a voice entering the office. "Nuh uh... That's not gonna happen" the voice spoke. " You gonna leave her and she's gonna be mine" he said. It was Gojo. Fear grabbed me. "No... I'm not gonna leave her!" Geto said walking towards Gojo. "Suguru you know what you should talk like that if you're stronger than the person you are talking.... but you know damn well I'm stronger than you" Gojo said and smirked. The time passed. The situation wasn't good. Bloodied Geto was on floor whom Gojo was still beating and I was on my knees bagging Gojo to stop. The words finally came out of my mouth. " Gojo please stop... I'm gonna be with you and do whatever you want" I sobbed. Gojo finally stopped and smirked at me. Geto looked at me but couldn't say anything. He was breathing heavily and blood was all over his face. 'so Gojo huh?' he thought....
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Give me your requests guys....
I love when you give me your requests 💗
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jaskierx · 7 months ago
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hey crew i need your help
as you might have seen, my pal quill @edandstede has been getting some absolutely vile transphobic asks. this abuse is coming from one or more self-described izzy fans who are targetting quill bc they've taken offence to some mildly izzy critical posts and his ongoing top surgery fundraiser. these anons are persistent - turning off anon means they pop back up whenever it's re-enabled. blocking them means they make burner accounts to continue the harassment. it's a really fucking nasty situation that has understandably made quill feel threatened and unable to enjoy being on tumblr. he's now had to turn off asks altogether.
fuel has been thrown on the fire today by the izzy-anti-archive account openly admitting to block evading and posting screenshots of quill's blog in the name of defending the canyon, as if the main issue here is the canyon's feelings and not quill's safety. none of these screenshots are censored, quill's url is plainly visible, and as a result the archive has basically put up a neon sign advertising that quill is 1. receiving transphobic hate and 2. 'wrongly' blaming the canyon for this. which really isn't great and has made quill feel even worse considering it invites yet more harassment of somebody who is already facing way too much of it.
do me a huge favour will you x
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1 - report this post
the more reports the post receives, the more likely it is that staff will take a look at it
2 - block the archive
quill is not the first person to be harassed by the archive and unfortunately he probably won't be the last. blocking them reduces their reach and also means it's less likely to be you next
3 - donate to quill's top surgery fundraiser if you can
donate here
share the fundraiser here
thanks guys stay groovy x
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midnightsnyx · 9 months ago
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Matthew Tkachuk - All I Need
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pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader requested: yes / no a/n: i haven't written a long one-shot in awhile but i really like this one! requests are open. word count: 1k
tw: bullying
masterlist ask box
You didn’t usually let it bother you; the whispers, staring, and anything else the other girls did. It wasn’t as bad when Taryn was at a game but those were far and few between lately so you had to endure it by yourself. It was different today though. Maybe it was because you had a fight with Matt before the game and let yourself dive into his comment sections on Instagram on any photos of the two of you. There were always nice ones, but the nasty ones were nasty. You know Matt spends hours reporting accounts and blocking them despite you telling him not to bother. People would find a way to criticize your relationship regardless of how many accounts he blocked. 
It was how your argument that morning started. He was eating breakfast while you fed the cat, scrolling through Instagram and frowning. You knew right away what he was upset about and walked to where he was sitting and put a hand on his arm so he would look at you.
“They don’t bother me,” you lied but he shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of "well it should”, so you dropped your hand and walked away. You went to sit down in the living room to watch something and heard him cleaning his plate a few minutes later before he joined you on the couch. He was quiet but didn’t have his phone anymore so you thought that he was done with it. 
“I could delete my Instagram,” he said suddenly, as if that was the solution to stopping the criticism. 
“That’s ridiculous,” you said. “Wiping yourself from social media doesn’t stop the mean girls. They’re at games too.” 
The minute you said it, you winced. You had been pretty good at not letting him know that the bullying was not strictly online. Taryn was nagging you to tell Matt exactly what was happening at games, but you didn’t want him worrying about it. You could ignore the things the girls said and just focus on the game.
Most times.
“What are you talking about? People are saying things to you at games too?”
You shrugged, ignoring his attempts at getting you to look at him.
“Girls like you, okay? They don’t think I’m good enough for you so they make comments.” You hesitated, but told him the same lie you always did. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“I’ll talk to them,” he said and you groaned in frustration.
“Yeah, like a parent confronting their child’s bully. I’ll pass, thanks.”
He argued with you for twenty minutes, saying that it would make things better if he confronted the other girls in the family seating area. It would just make it worse though, you knew it would. So in a moment of frustration, you told him if he talked to them, you wouldn’t go to anymore games. 
It was a lie, and you both knew it but the two of you were so annoyed with each other by that point, that he left for the rink early. He still had at least an hour before he should’ve left and it put you in a sour mood. Enough that you considered not going to the game that night, but in the end you pulled on your Tkachuk jersey and made your way to the arena. 
That brought you to this moment, listening to one of the girls purposely talking loudly about a bet they had placed on how much longer Matt would put up with you, despite the fact that the two of you had been dating for two years. You’d heard whispers about why he hadn't proposed yet multiple times, but you were able to ignore that because you and Matt had a serious talk about marriage and the fact that you wanted to wait a bit longer. 
“He can do so much better,” one of them said and you bite your tongue, knowing that saying something will just feed into their fantasy. You’re not sure exactly what it is, besides their wishes for you and Matt to break up. 
“Yeah, I mean just look at her.” 
It takes everything in you not to turn around and say something to them but the game ends so you get up and leave. You’re not sure if Matt knows that you came to the game because you hadn’t texted him so you go down to meet him near the locker doors. The security guy nods when you flash your ID but you come down here so often that he knows you. 
The Panthers lost, so you know Matt will be in a crooked mood but you still want to see him. While you’re waiting, the guys slowly trickle out of the locker room, nodding at you. 
Finally, Matt walks out and stops short when he sees you. He wasn’t expecting you to come to the game tonight at least because of your fight so you give him your best attempt at a smile. 
There’s a ten second pause before he walks over and wraps his arms around you and holds you gently. You’re pretty sure you stand there for at least five minutes before you pull away.
“I love you,” you tell him. “I love that you’d delete all your social medias, that you’d give the mean girls a lecture, and that you spend hours blocking and reporting accounts that say mean things about me.” You kiss him, smiling when he chases after you when you pull away. “But I promise, if it ever gets too much, I’ll tell you. I’m working on ignoring what everyone says, but in the meantime, all I need is you.” 
He runs his thumb across your bottom lip and nods. “Okay.”
He pulls you into another hug and you let your head rest on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. 
“Also, I was totally considering slapping one of them silly tonight,” you say and you can’t see his face, but you know he’s grinning.
370 notes · View notes
heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago
Text
Black Paint; Vessel (Sleep Token)
a/n: i am so fucking proud of this and i hope you absolutely love it. pls don't anyone tell brittany or else i'll fucking kms. thx.
description: brittany broski and friends go see sleep token. the group's energy catches the attention of the band.
warnings: alcohol, smut, cringe wattpad y/n moment.
Tumblr media
“Hey, guys, welcome back to the Broski report. I’m your host, Brittany Broski.”
She rambled the words out breathlessly, smile void on her face. I stifled a laugh from the seat beside her, especially as I knew the camera frame would then focus on me. 
She slammed her palms down onto the table, peering over at me with a blank expression, “Bitch.”
“I know,” I shrugged. My lips were pursed together, shoulders shaking as small giggles forced their way out of my nose. 
“Bitch!” She tilted her head from the microphone so as not to disturb the sound mix. 
I pressed a hand to my lips, dying of laughter now. “I know!” 
“Listen,” she pointed at the screen behind us, “there is no fucking time for introductions because this bitch…just ruined my life by introducing me to yet another GROUP masked men I will not and can not have!” 
“I know,” I nodded solemnly, still giggling. “I’m so sorry for what I have done to you.”
“Sleep Token,” Brittany yelled. I flinched from the volume, eliciting a soft, “Oh!”
“Sleep Token, guys,” she repeated. “Listen…before we even begin, we have a disclaimer for you horny sluts.”
I licked my lip as I silenced my laughter, looking seriously to the camera. “We do not condone the search for the identity of this band. Let them exist peacefully. If you know who they are, and you comment it on either of our platforms, anywhere, you will be blocked. Be respectful, shut the fuck up, and keep the mystery alive, kay?”
“Kay. Moving on! Sleep Token!”
It was my first time being on Brittany’s podcast. I was honored to have been asked, considering she didn’t often have anyone join her. But, considering I’d introduced her to the band I was currently hyper-fixating on, she needed me to provide my personal testimony. We spent most of the video appreciating their music, pointing out our favorite drum parts, lyrics, and Vessel vocals. Of course, we thirsted over the band, too. Why wouldn’t we have? They were hot as fuck and we were just girls. 
And, of course, the video blew up. Her podcast segments normally did, but this one reached new numbers even she could not have predicted. At one point, trending on TikTok was a video of me saying, “I would literally let this man do dirty, nasty, terrible things to me that my mom would disown me for. Things only bitches did in that fucking town of Sodom and Gamora. God would literally come down and rain hellfire over my apartment after I got done with that man.”
I wasn’t necessarily embarrassed by the videos that came out after my clip went viral, but it was a little silly. I just hoped the band didn’t have secret accounts that they stalked fans on. I would never want to know that- but Ijust hoped and prayed it wasn’t sure. 
Soon after we posted the video, the band announced a new leg of a North American tour. 
And, of course, we spent a shit load of money to get tickets. 
The months drug on before it was finally time for the concert. 
“Shot?”
Brittany held out the glass vial towards me, a knowing smile- brows raised, round eyes suggestive- egging me on. Not that I needed it- tonight was the perfect night to get trashed. Of course, with Brittany, that was most night’s. When we had filmed for the podcast? Oh, we were smashed. 
“Duh, bitch.”
I took it from her hold, wrapped my forearm around hers, and shared a low cheer before taking the shot. Our other friend Sarah Baska, was ordering herself something at the bar. Meanwhile, the liquid burned the back of my throat, sliding down my chest in it’s fiery path. A natural lightweight, I felt warm immediately. It was also just really hot in here. 
I then ordered some mixed drink. Sarah got more, harder liquor, as per usual. And, Brittany did another handful of shots for the road. After, we headed for the stairs, giggly and anticipatory. We spent extra money on a private box, both to shake our asses in a spacious area, and to be able to enjoy the concert without being bothered by fans the entire time. It was nice getting photos with them and meeting people who looked up to all of us. But, tonight, it would be nice to just exist as normal people at a normal concert. Besides, we were all here for Sleep Token. I wanted them to get all the worship that they deserved. 
Not that this was a normal concert. This was, in any devoted fan’s words, a night of worship to the god of Sleep. This was a ritual. Tonight, I would be shaking my ass extra hard for the little dancing vessel’s on that stage who were so fucking attractive, I could drool. 
We found our seats quickly. I was grateful for the space away from the thick, sweaty crowds- it was hot in here, even though I was wearing next to nothing. I really didn’t want my makeup- done heavier than normal thanks to Britt- to run. I did, however, hope that Vessel’s paint would smear a little extra from this heat. That was hot. 
We sat down in our seats for a few minutes, gushing about finally being at this ritual. I sipped at my drink, finishing it faster than I thought possible. I tended to drink heavier when my pulse rate was this high. My chest was really warm now, and I enjoyed it. It loosened me up quite a bit. I wasn’t really introverted, but I had anxiety when it came to these situations. Liquid courage was always nice to have. 
I shed my jacket on the back of my chair, exposing my midriff and bare arms. It cooled me down a bit. Brittany was rambling on about Vessel and some video she’d saw on TikTok the night before. I went to reply to her, to ask to see the video, when a staff member interrupted us, “Excuse me, ladies-”
We looked up him expectantly. His voice was quiet against the loud chatter of the crowd and the pre-show playlist thumping through the speakers. I leaned in close to him and strained to hear his next words. 
“These seats have food and drink service. Would you like anything?” He graciously held out a menu.
We nodded enthusiastically and ordered another round of shots and cocktails. Just as he returned with the tray of drinks, after we occupied ourselves by watching a handful of videos on Brittany’s phone, the lights dimmed for the opener. I tipped the server as I joined the crowd, on my feet, hooting and hollering. We quickly down our shots. 
The opener was pretty good. Brittany, Sarah, and I danced along to the songs, clapped when gestured to, and took a few embarrassing pictures for us to regret in the morning. I liked to spin in circles as I danced, rotating my hips to the beat. I made a stank face while doing so, drink raised to the sky like an offering. Brittany and Sarah would hype me up, pretending to swipe stacks of cash over me like rain, leaning into my momentum with hollers. The more I moved, the more the alcohol took over. I was completely lost in the music. 
When the opener took a bow, Brittany, Sarah, and I screamed, loudly. Loud enough that the opener noticed us. They waved up to our seats. I jumped up and down, splashing my drink over the railing, on the floor below. I waved wildly. The opener then blew a kiss and I nearly melted. I felt like a little girl at a One Direction concert. It was awesome. 
As the crew began tearing down the openers set, and putting together Sleep Token’s, more music streamed through the speakers. The server scurried off to get us more drinks. 
Because the opener had noticed us- twice- a few people in the crowd turned to look up at our seats. Now that the overhead lights were back on in the venue, a bunch of fans started calling out our names, waving excitedly. As they did, I Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing and the energy in the venue lifted completely. 
I set my drink down in my cup holder, needing both hands to go absolutely feral over the song choice. As the first verse began, I grabbed Brittany’s fingers in my clutch, serenading her through viscous screams. I swayed from foot to foot, hitting each beat with my hips. As Miss Houston sang, “My lonely heart calls…” I grabbed the railing from behind me, leaned myself over it, back arched and head upside down, towards the crowd. Everyone freaked out at the stupid move I did. I was sure to see clips of it in the morning. 
Then, the chorus started, and we jumped around like raging lunatics. We clapped our way through the song, entertaining the crowd like we were the real show. Eventually, the crew seemed to be finishing up their work onstage. The music started to fade, the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up with bright blue. I picked my drink back up, screeching my head off as the music started.
I swear to god that the band could hear us screaming from our side of the venue, jumping around like children, holding onto each other like we just might fall over. We were louder than, probably, the rest of the crowd. They started with Chokehold, which made me nearly lose my sanity. Vessel strutted out onto the stage like a literal god, rings shining in the light, blackened skin already slick with sweat. I bounced up and down to every beat, waving my hands with the crowd, spinning in circles, downing my drink like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t focus too much on how good he looked, caught up in the music. But, god, did I know he looked insane. 
At one point, Brittany and Sarah turned their phone flash on. They switched between that and taking videos on their phones, giving me all the spotlight. They made it like I was the fucking main character of the concert. And, I loved every second of it. 
At one point, the bassist noticed our flashing lights and mini dance circle. He pointed up at us, nodding his head in appreciation. I screamed my head off in response, gripping the railing and whipping my hair. He raised his hands like he had to defend himself from my energy and slunk off to the other side of the stage. Brittany pointed the camera in my face, “How do you feel?!”
“I’m shitting my pants right now!”
The concert went by quickly, too quickly. IV interacted with us a bunch, too, especially after he’d scream his lyrics and we’d go wild. Vessel, unfortunately, avoided our side of the stage. He was so lost in the music which was, honestly, amazing to witness. His silly dances combined with his insane vocals made for a great show. 
By the time The Offering started up, Brittany, Sarah, and I were absolutely trashed. I wasn’t too far gone because I was started to sweat out what was in my system. Yet, I was nowhere near sober. Anyways, maybe it was because we were being obnoxious and loud due to our drunken states- Vessel finally noticed us. It was at the beginning of the song, when he sang, “Take a bite…’ It came out like an animalistic growl, chilling the audience. 
He pointed his hands towards our balcony, though I’d like to think he was really just pointing at me, and whispered the sultry lyric. I melted to the ground, head thrown back as I yelled. Brittany grabbed my bicep to ensure I wouldn’t fall any further. She and Sarah hoisted me back up. We cackled into each other’s shoulders annoyingly. Then, as the drums picked up, we began moving with the rhythm again. 
Before we knew it, the concert was over. Vessel raised his hands in a bow. Then, he looked around the crowd, found our seats again, and shot us a small smile. I took the opportunity to blow him a kiss, enthusiastically throwing it through the air towards him. He grinned in response, looking to his feet as he shook his head, before slinking backstage. 
I plopped back down into my seat, already cracking open a water bottle. My chest heaved for air. I didn’t even know how to process anything that had happened. All I knew was, “I need to eat so many fries right now,” I breathed out, sweat slicking my skin. I sipped the water slowly. I could feel myself sobering up more and more. I was a little more conscious, but so damn hungry.
Sarah was talking to some people next to us who she knew. Brittany sat beside me. “Vessel literally wants you,” she said, nonchalantly, like she had read it in that morning’s paper. “Like��holy fuck.”
I cracked a smile and wiped a bead of sweat off of my brow. I checked my reflection in my phone. Luckily, my makeup had stayed intact. I replied with a silly tone, “Don’t even get me excited like that. It’s rude.”
“No, cause, he kept looking up here after The Offering,” Brittany said in a matter of fact manner, again. 
“Really?” I sat up in my seat, “No way! I must have been dancing too hard to notice.”
“Oh, you were shaking your ass,” she snickered with a grin.
“Ugh, he’s fucking sexy,” I continued on. We stared at the stage for a moment in one of those silences where neither drunk girl could really formulate any relevant response. Then, I kind of tossed my weary arms around, “Well, doesn’t matter. I bet he, like, doesn’t even date.”
“No, but he def fucks,” Brittany emphasized. We leaned into each other, laughing loudly. 
Sarah turned to us at the sound. She plopped down beside me and went to add to our conversation, but the familiar staff member who’d been supplying our drinks was interrupting again. Though, this time, he didn’t have a tray of alcohol. 
“Excuse me, ladies,” his favorite phrase. We all looked up at him, curious. He didn’t have to speak so loud, considering the venue was clearing out, so it was easier to hear. Whitney Houston was playing again. 
“The band is wondering if you’d like to come backstage for some refreshments?” He asked so casually that it took my brain a moment to process the information. 
I managed to play it really cool, but internally, I was basically shitting my pants. Brittany, however, gaped at the worker. She slowly turned her head towards Sarah and I with a wild look in her eyes, seeming like she might scream at any given moment.
Sarah snorted, “What fucking fanfiction did we just get thrown into?!”
“I don’t know, but I fucking love it,” I gushed back, staring at the worker. “What the fuck.” He shrugged back at me. 
Sarah shook her head with an amused grin, waving off the worker, “Listen, yall go, have fun. My friends offered to let us go out with them, so I’m gonna split off. I don’t think I could mentally handle meeting them right now. I think I’d, like, puke all over them.”
“But, then you could say that you’ve puked on Sleep Token!” Brittany smacked Sarah’s shoulder, reaching across my body. 
“Go!” Sarah shoved back, squishing me further between the two of them. “Go, so you can say that you puked on Sleep Token.”
“Yeah, I fucking will,” I pushed up out of my seat, an eager energy in my bones. 
Brittany and I followed the worker down the stairs, clutching each other’s arms. He ushered us through the remaining crowd gently, though we had to stop to take numerous photos- and make the occasional TikTok- with fans. They gushed about our dance moves, our podcast episode. It made everything feel even giddier. We eventually made it up to the stage, where we were guided behind these large black curtains disguising the dimly lit area of the sides. 
The crew worked hard on getting everything packed up, put away. We skirted between all of them, trying not to get in the way of it all. I kept checking my reflection in my phone’s front camera to ensure I looked okay. Most of the sweat had soaked itself up and my perfume was long lasting. Hopefully that was enough to rizz up Vessel. Not that I was counting on that. It would be awesome, but I was actually excited to have a conversation with all of them. I would soon learn that was not what he wanted from me tonight. 
We went down another set of stairs and stopped before a closed door. Behind it, we could hear music playing over a speaker, a few sets of voices cheering and chattering. The worker knocked, kindly, and the voices cut themselves off. 
“Come in!” A thick British accent called out.
I took a deep, drunken breath as the worker turned the door knob. And, my stomach dropped when he pulled open the door.
Sleep Token sat, lounged out across their dressing room, on various couches. They wore those familiar masks, their stage costumes- save for a few layers- and clutched some drinks in their blackened hands. My eyes found Vessel last, who was leaning against the counter of the vanity, a drink sat beside his left hand. He had shed his cloak, so visible to us was his paint-smeared chest and back. I tried not to let my eyes wander too much- but they did. 
III stood from the couch, excitedly dancing his way over to the door where we stood. The worker abandoned us. “‘Ello, darlings!” III called out. 
He hugged Brittany first, bent down because of his insane height. As he did, I couldn’t rip my eyes from the slits of Vessel’s mask. I somehow knew that he was staring at me- probably because his distant gaze burned my skin. Then, III was pulling me into his chest, “It’s so lovely to meet you…”
“Brittany,” she gestured to herself, then to me, “Y/n. Dude, thanks so fucking much for having us! We had an absolute blast. Your performance is just- wow!”
IV and II approached us next, as III pulled us a bit further into the room. III busied himself with pouring us each a drink as we introduced ourselves to IV and II. 
“We’re so glad you had a good time worshiping,” IV cracked, hugging Brittany, “makes it all the more worth it.”
I grinned at his words as he embraced me, too, still occasionally glancing at Vessel. II added on, “Sure you’re exhausted from all that dancing. Have a seat.”
III wrapped an arm around Brittany’s shoulder, passing a drink to her hand, as he brought her onto the couch beside him. IV and II moved to stt back where they had been, probably assuming I was following. I clutched nervously to the drink III had given me. I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to not act stupid in front of men I wanted to fuck. The nerves were crashing down me instead, making me stoic, overthinking my own breathin. 
I looked back at Vessel, again, who had been quiet thus far. He held out a hand, an offer for me to come sit beside him. I hesitated, for just a moment, before taking it. His fingers were warm, even his rings, and I noticed that black paint smudged itself across my skin as I took my hand from his. I leaned up against the counter beside him as I admired the paint. 
III, IV, and II struck up a lively conversation with Brittany, full of teases and easy topics. I watched until I felt that burning stare on the side of my face again. I looked up at Vessel, a small smile forming across my lips. He returned the expression. 
“Lovely to meet you, Y/n,” his voice was just as deep as his singing tone. It sent a shiver down my spine. 
I shifted on my feet, glanced around, before returning his gaze again. “You, too, Vessel,” I took a sip of the drink in my hand. 
He chuckled down at me. My knees rocked. “So…you like Whitney Houston, yeah?.”
My face turned beat red at the realization that he had seen a lot more than I hoped. I pressed a hand over my face, groaning, “Oh, god. You saw that?”
Vessel brushed his shoulder against mine. More paint took it’s place there in my skin. “I saw everything.”
I crinkled my nose, “Ugh, that was just…I don’t claim to be a good dancer, just so you know.”
Vessel shrugged, “I beg to differ.”
Shaking my head at his words, I waved him off, “Don’t even…I just, like, throw myself around like a fucking rag doll.”
“No,” he drug out the word, deep voice reverberating in my chest, “no, you have some rhythm in those hips.” His head tilted down as he eyed my body. 
There was a beat of silence that passed between us. I examined his mask. I think I knew then that I wouldn’t be leaving until this man fucked me senseless, but my foggy, drunken brain thought still that maybe I was just being delusional. 
It wasn’t until he opened his mouth, again, that I was certain. He drug his tongue over his bottom lip, as though he was searching for the right words to say. My eyes followed the wet, pink organ with a blank stare. 
Vessel thought for another moment before leaning his mouth down towards my ear. He pressed his hand against my hip, fingers curling around my bare skin exposed there. His breath was hot against the side of my neck, though I shivered again. “I want to see how those hips would move on me.”
I flushed, bright red again, the alcohol making the heat on my blotchy skin worse. Vessel pulled away, a smirk ever-present on those pink lips, black staining the outer edges. It took all of my self control not to lick it clean, right then and there. I wanted him- needed him. And, he knew it. 
Vessel searched my eyes with that curl in his lips. I was unable to come up with a proper response. But, I think he found what he was looking for in my dilated pupils and rising chest. “Be a good girl for me? Yeah?”
Vessel offered up his hand again. I entwined my fingers in his, my own smile finally finding its place on my mouth. Vessel took my cup and chugged it, tossed it into the trash, and led us from the room. 
I followed like a puppy-dog, hot on his heels. He guided me so carefully, looking back occasionally to ensure I was okay. Then, he threw open a door at the end of the hallway we traveled down. It was dark in the room, with only a small lamp in the corner to illuminate our hushed desperations. Vessel locked the door behind us after he ushered me inside. He spun me around and forced himself against my chest, pressing my back against the door. It knocked the wind right out of me. My chest rose and fell as I took rapid, deep breaths. Vessel held me by my hip, again, thumb brushing against my bare skin gently. 
“Is this okay?” He whispered as he brought a hand to my face, cupping my cheek. 
I barely nodded, entranced by the stare coming from behind his mask. I had enough focus to touch my hands to his chest, though, running my fingers up and down his toned stomach. The paint smeared beneath my knuckles, revealing more of his pale skin. I watched it mix with our sweat with hopeless admiration in my gaze. 
Vessel looked down at my hands, too, a smirk still present on his face. But, then he forced my chin up, so my eyes were on his mask, and said, “Use your words, darling.”
“Y-yes,” I shuddered, voice breathless. 
Vessel pressed me harder against the door as our lips met, tongues clashing against teeth, hungrily. We moved together so easily, entranced by the other’s taste. I gripped at his sides, pulling me into him, arching my back to press my chest against his. Vessel’s hold tightened, too, and he ground my hips against his. 
I felt him get hard, quickly, the loose material of his pants allowing his erection to fully grind against my thigh. He was whiney, all gasping breaths, low moans, as I drug my fingers down his chest, dipped them through his waistband. I nearly got to feel him, but Vessel grabbed my hand harshly in his, slamming it up against the door, above my head. My eyes shot back open in surprise. I don’t remember closing them.
“S’all about you right now, darling,” he demanded, words against my lips. 
Vessel shoved his head into the crevice of my neck, nipping and tonguing at my flesh. My eyes dropped shut again, head hitting the door in a way that would probably hurt tomorrow. I had a feeling all of me would hurt tomorrow. But, I didn’t care. 
Vessel drug his fingers up my arms, leaving goosebumps in his path, trails of black paint like a roadmap amongst my freckles. He slid the straps of my dress down past my shoulders. Then, he kissed his way down to the arch of my breasts. He rolled the material between his teeth and sunk to the floor as he drugged it down my body. Vessel was on his knees below me. 
Vessel looped an arm around either of my thighs, nearly pulling my entire weight onto his shoulders. I clutched onto the top of his head, feeling some of his hair slip out from the cap he wore beneath his mask. It was soft, though just a bit sweaty. He glanced up at my bare breasts, smirking devilishly now
He admired my face as he said, “I watched you worship me all night. It’s my turn to pray at your altar.” STOPPED HERE. 
My head hit the door again as Vessel sunk his tongue into me. He had managed to tear my underwear down with his teeth and they were now laying across the room. I ground my hips into his face, back arching each time his nose would then rub against my sweet spot. I tried to be quiet at first, though small gasps and moans slipped from my bitten lips. 
But, then, Vessel stopped, eliciting a whine from me. He chuckled, lips slick from me. He darted his tongue out, smirking as he cleaned his mouth. He tilted his head in disappointment, “You were so loud for me earlier, darling. What happened to that good girl? I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”
I nodded, dazed, brows furrowed, fingers digging at his hair. The cap had fallen off his head at this point, but the mask managed to stay on. I was grateful it did. The mystery alive energized both of our primal desires.. 
Vessel watched my face as he pressed his tongue back up into me, running the tip of it down my entire core. I moaned, loudly, back arched into the cold air, nipples hard from the temperature and arousal. 
He chuckled into me, making my thighs shake around his head. Vessel pried me back open with his fingers bruising my skin. He continued on until I was close. I vocalized my point of no return, and he hurriedly spoke, “Don’t. Be a good girl and wait. For me, okay?”
I nodded wildly, clenching my stomach to deny myself of the orgasm. Vessel gently set my feet back on the ground. He guided me by the hips towards a counter. Easily, he picked me up and set me on it. It was freezing cold against my bare skin, but his warm hands, tongue, were on me soon enough. I took the opportunity to unlatch his belt, fingers moving hurriedly. Vessel moved to help me, tugging the pants down his thighs. 
Vessel then pushed me back from him, taking control again. He pushed my legs open further with his bare knee. Then, he grabbed me by the hips and tugged me down till my back was flat against the counter. His hand splayed across my thigh as he pushed himself inside of me. 
He was sloppy, quick in desperation as he fucked me. But, every thrust he pushed into me was strong, deep. Vessel wrapped my legs around his waist, securing me by the hip. His other hand drug itself up my chest until his fingers were wrapped around my throat. Black paint smeared most of my skin. There was even a ring around his mouth where the paint had transferred from his skin to my own. I don’t know how we would manage to keep this rendezvous a secret from everyone else with the state we were both in. But, right now, I couldn’t care.
Vessel leaned himself overtop of me, his forehead against my chest. Though, he was dominating me, he was so caught up in the pleasure that he was starting to quickly come undone. I touched his back, nails digging into his skin. He tossed his head back at the sensation, neck exposed to me. I eyed the veins protruding from his skin. 
He smirked at me when he noticed I was staring at his neck. He growled, “Take a bite.”
I held one hand, tightly, to his shoulder, keeping him steady as he fucked me. But, I gripped the back of his head with the other. I was slow at first, nipping at his neck gently. Vessel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy with each bite I took. I was close, too. So, I opened my jaw further, taking a pinch of his skin between my upper and lower canines. I bit down, hard. 
“Fuck!”
He quickly pulled out and came on my stomach. As he did, I felt myself come undone. Vessel pressed his forehead against mine as we rode out our high. We came down from the top and he gave me a sloppy kiss. 
There was a bitter cold left on my skin as he stepped back. I hugged myself, finally taking in the black paint covering my skin. “Oh, god,” I laughed. 
Vessel pulled his pants up. He looked at my body, grinning, “Fuck. That’s so hot. Darling, if we had more time…”
“I know,” I smiled up at him. 
“Here, there’s a bathroom over here,” Vessel spoke as he finished buckling his belt. He offered me his hand. 
I followed him into the side room. He found a washcloth on the side of the sink, clean and unused, and wet it with warm water. Vessel gently pried my hands from covering my body and busied himself with wiping down my skin. He focused on what would be visible: My arms, neck, hands, face. I watched him while he worked. It was fucking hot when he was dominating, disgustingly dirty. But, this, this caring demeanor? I’d fuck him again in a heartbeat. 
When he was finished, he rounded up my dress, shoes, and underwear. He turned away, without a question, while I dressed. I was no longer nervous, so I wouldn’t have minded if he watched. But, he was respectful. 
“Okay,” I breathed out, pulling my final dress strap back up and over my shoulder. 
Vessel faced me. I was finally able to take in his face and had to cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. He frowned, slightly, confused by my laughter. “What? What is it?”
I touched his shoulders, forcing him to face the mirror. His head pulled back in shock at his appearance. 
I kept laughing and Vessel peered down at me with a tilted head. “Keep laughing, darling.”
“I’m sorry,” I shrugged, “it’s fo fucking funny.”
“What’s funny?” 
I yelped, trying to duck out of the way as he jolted towards me. He caught me by the waist, rattling me around in his hold. I giggled, loudly against his chest, trying to twist out of his hold. His mouth was near my ear as he teased me, “Not so funny now, huh?”
I rested my forehead to his shoulder in my fit of laughter. Vessel calmed his movements, just holding me against him now. “It just goes to show the mess you make out of me,” he murmured against my ear, lips pressed to the shell. 
I looked up at him and pointed a warning finger, “Don’t do that.”
“I know,” he huffed as he tossed his head back in frustration. “We should be getting back.”
“Sadly,” I wrapped my arms around his neck. 
He admired my face for a few moments, silent, until he smiled softly, “Can I get your number?”
“Maybe,” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, I kind of like to just fuck and dump, ya know?”
“I won’t let you do that, darling,” his voice dropped low again. 
“Okay, you’ve gotta stop doing that or I’m never going home.”
Vessel cupped my cheek in his hand, nearly void of paint, “I’d be okay with that.”
“I’m gonna walk away now.”
Vessel didn’t let go, however, as I made a move to step towards the bathroom door. In fact, he held me tighter. He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Can’t go anywhere looking that, darling,” he twisted me around to face the mirror, long arms cradling my waist. 
I reached for the washcloth and wiped off my face. I faced him again and cleaned up his mouth, just enough so that it wasn’t completely obvious he’d eaten me out. We spent another moment teasing each other, eliciting more giggles from my throat. But, we figured we should get back. 
So, he took my hand again and led us back down the hallway. I flushed red as soon as the door was pulled open, considering the entire band and Brittany snapped their heads towards us. 
“Way to leave your sister!” Brittany exclaimed, holding up a cup of what could only be whiskey. “Dude, you’re missing out on some insane stories right now. Come, sit.” She patted the couch next to her. 
I glanced up at Vessel as I took my hand from his. II, IV, and III greeted me with kind eyes and small greetings. “Hey, sorry,” I said as I plopped onto the couch. “He was just showing me the, uh…”
We hadn’t come up with an excuse. So, my words fell off my tongue with no resolution. Vessel shoved his hands in his pockets, quickly stuttering out, “Backstage. Just the backstage area. She wanted to see how everything works.”
Brittany nodded, oblivious to the elephant in the room. “Dope. You’ll have to show me next.”
“We can do a group tour,” IV offered. 
Everyone agreed, enthusiastically, and we all stood to pile out the door. III and I were the last ones seated. I met his dark eyes, smiling kindly at him. His gaze dropped to my thighs, brows raising beneath his mask suggestively. 
I followed his eyes down. Where my dress had ridden up my thighs was a long line of smeared paint, not to mention reddened hickies that were starting to sprout up. I pressed my lips together and quickly tugged the material down over my legs. 
III patted my knee as he stood, “You were the one going crazy during The Offering, love.”
I gaped after him as his words lingered in the air before me. Vessel stood just beside the door, awaiting my presence. As III passed by him, he took Vessel by the chin and tilted his head. 
He tsked at the bruising bite mark on Vessel’s neck. I shoved my face into my hands, face beyond burned.
III whispered, “Take a bite.” 
It wasn’t until a few days later, when Brittany and I were hanging out, looking through concert videos with nostalgia, that she found out. I was nervous to tell her. Besides, Vessel and I were starting to see each other, so I didn’t want to expose his private life too much. I trusted her, but I just overthought it all. Apparently, though, I hadn’t enough overthinking.
I had just made a post on Instagram, making the photo we took with the band the cover photo for a dump. It blew up immediately. Brittany and I were reading comments as they came in, dying of laughter at some of the shit people were saying. 
“No, hand placement is so real!” Brittany exclaimed. She shoved her phone in my face, showing me the zoom-in of Vessel’s hand on my hip. I blushed and shoved it away. She kept scrolling. 
“Wait,” her voice trailed off. 
I glanced at her and watched as her brows furrowed. She tapped around, zoomed in a bunch, scrolled through comments. I looked back to my phone just as a new comment began blowing up with responses and likes. 
User- so is no one gonna talk about vessel’s paint on y/n’s thigh and her very obvious sex hair?
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
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nastyc2nt · 1 month ago
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· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Page Rules
✧ Rules, Requests, What I write.
✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦
Respect my rules! If not I will block you, and if you have any problems with me you can also block me! No judgment
Smut requests only here.
Mostly thoughts, dabbles and small fics— but sometimes I get carried away
Requests are allowed but I will not be posting a lot because I have two other big blogs.. yeah.
So maybe at least two times month..maybe less if I have low motivation.
This is for more hardcore, nasty, kinky, fics that I have in my mind that I need to get out.
So not taking vanilla requests because I have another cap for this. This is my demon area😈
Anon requests are aloud!! I don’t mind, I know what it’s like to not people to know who I am.
If not stated in request the reader will be female.
✧ Things I don’t write for.
pedophilia, zoophilia, necrophilia.
No piss kinks, or shitting- be who you are just not for me.
Not consented. I can play with it bit, like they knowing they want it- but nothing actually bad. Does that make sense?
Don’t be transphobic, Homophobic, or racist on here- blocked and reported 🤓
Incest: No dad/mom x their biological children.
✧ I will Write For.
Incest: brotherxsisters, sistersxsisters, brotherxbrother, aunts/uncles, step brothers, step sisters, step fathers, step moms, step uncles/aunts, cousins. [just no mom and dad stuff—]
Gay Sex: give me then please. I beg you. I am gay for woman. I am gay for men. I am horny.
Kink: choking, spanks, trying not to get caught, gangbangs, Poly relationship, boundge, pet play, monsters, hybrids, slave ownership, YANDERE, sex toys, cock rings, colors & leashes much more.
MONSTER CHARACTERS? I will turn any character to pretty much anything for some monster fucking.
More examples: friends mom/dad, naive sister, Hot aunt, teacherxstudent, friends sibling, being stuck. I write anything.
Yandere fics are more then welcome my little sweeties. I will be making so much content for them.
Readers will be female, male, or I will try not to be too specific. But if not mentioned I will go off of female parts!
Chubby readers is my specialty because I am one. So come to mama for some fun!!
✧ more things!!
I know this list doesn’t seem so out there, but this was mainly for some more…weird topics. I write much of this stuff on my other account but I wanted to let myself post it.
Also come in my inbox and I will reply how you want me too. Want me to act like your sister? Your perv brother? I will do want ever you want baby.
Call me Angel if you want! I’ll be using that name here.
Also message me if you have any questions
✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦
✦ Characters.
✦ My Hero Academia
Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, Shoto Todoroki, Mina Ashido, Ochako Uraraka, Momo Yaoyorozu, Kyoka Jiro, Tenya Iida, Class 1A, Shōta Aizawa, Bakusquad, DekuSquad, Bakugos mom-, Himiko Toga,
Yandere, villain au, no quirk au, anything.
✦ Percy Jackson
Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Annabeth Chase, Percabeth
Book/aged up, adult fanart.
✦ House Of The Dragon
Rhaenrya Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, Lucerys Velaryon, Baela Targaryen, Baela & Jace, Alicent Hightower
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Come back soon to check for updates..
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cloudcountry · 2 years ago
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i'll never be sick of you.
Genre/Tropes: Sick fic!!
Summary: Cater Diamond is sick and doesn't want anyone to worry about him, least of all you.
Author's Comments: So I read his Lab Wear vignettes and I wanted to explore the side of Cater that's very much "I want to make everyone happy." I might write something less angsty for him someday but for now this is where my brain took me!!
~~~~~
Cater hated this. Whatever force had given him a nasty stomach bug was totally blocked and reported. This was so unfair. He couldn’t move an inch from his bed, leaving his poor underclassmen to paint the roses for today’s unbirthday party without him. Ugh, what a fail. He even had plans to sit next to you during the party, and despite his dislike of sweets, all he wanted to do was see you enjoying yourself. It wasn’t a date or anything, because thinking about a date planned by Riddle was not something Cater wanted to subscribe to, but it’d be time spent with you. That was valuable no matter what.
Right now, though...Cater really hoped nobody told you about his current condition. You shouldn’t have to see him like this—if he wasn’t making you happy then he shouldn’t be around you at all, and Cater was content with that.
Humming, Cater reached for his phone again to scroll through Magicam. He posted a selfie he’d taken the day before to cover up his lack of presence on the app. There was no need to make his followers concerned because he was failing at the moment!
He sighed, setting his phone down on his nightstand again. The bright light was making his head pound, but he was so bored. Being sick wasn’t fun or making anyone happy, so why did it have to hit him first?
Cater turned over on his side, shutting his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep. Sleeping meant less boredom and that meant—
A knock brought him back to reality and he groaned. You and Trey should have been at the unbirthday, so who could possibly be bothering him?
He decided to stay silent. It’s not like anyone would want to see him in this state anyway.
The door opened.
Cater jumped, his head whipping towards the now open door and your face poking through the doorway. A relieved smile found its way onto your lips as Cater panicked, diving under the sheets.
Why did it have to be you of all people? You were going to find him gross and be disappointed and what was he supposed to do if he wasn’t happy and beautiful?
“Cater?” your voice called out to him, the door shutting behind you.
He didn’t respond. His heart pounded in his ears.
“Trey told me about your illness. I brought you some soup. It’s not spicy like you like it, but I didn’t want to leave you up here alone.”
Silence.
“Cater, is everything alright? I know you’re not feeling the best so if you want me to leave I can.”
He couldn’t bring himself to speak.
“Honey...”
He heard you pull a chair up to his bedside as you set the soup down on his nightstand. Your hand pressed into the blanket where his shoulder was, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric.
“Why aren’t you at the unbirthday party?” he whispered, not trusting his voice enough to speak at his normal volume.
“You weren’t there.” you answered immediately, “I only go to those things for you, dummy.”
“You’d have more fun down there, don’t you think?” he forced a laugh, “I don’t want to keep you up here. I probably stink and I doubt—”
“Cater. I’m here because I want to take care of you.” you felt around for his head, beginning to pet his hair once you found it, “I would like you to come out from those blankets so I can feed you, but I won’t make you. I want to be with you even if you aren’t feeling your best. I’ll stay here until you tell me to get out, but I can’t bear leaving you up here alone.”
Cater swallowed.
He couldn’t bring himself to believe that you’d still think of him the same if he showed you how he looked when he wasn’t smiling. There was an idealistic part of him that whispered that he didn’t need to be carefree all the time, especially with you. There was a more serious side of him that told him your relationship was still relatively brand new, and that you could leave at any minute if he showed you that side of him.
What was he supposed to do?
“Cater...do you not want me to see you? Is that what it is?” you murmured.
How did you see through him so easily?
“I don’t think anyone would want to see me like this.” he laughed again, hoping you’d laugh too.
You didn’t.
“Sweetheart.” you leaned back, moving your hand back down to his shoulder, “I think you’re the prettiest boy on campus. You being sick isn’t going to bother me. I know that might be hard to believe, but I want to see you from every angle, you know? I want to know you. And I’m gathering that this is deeper than just you not liking how you look when you’re sick.”
Cater swallowed, his dry throat screaming at him. It was scary how convincingly you talked, making him almost believe that you wouldn’t care if he wasn’t as shiny as he was on his Magicam profile. You were making him think about the facade he’d perfected. You were making him seriously consider taking it down.
He poked his head out of the blankets.
Your expression was soft as you smiled, reaching out to brush a stray hair away from his eyes.
“Hello, pretty boy.” you hummed, rising from your seat.
Cater could only watch as you descended upon him, pressing a single kiss to his forehead. He was feverish and sweaty and hot and his hair was greasy and he probably smelled really bad—but you let it linger, smoothing back his hair as you pulled away.
You sat back down and grabbed the container of soup, the insides fogged up from the contained heat. Cater pulled the blankets a little lower, allowing you to see his nose and lips. You weren’t paying attention to him anymore, your attention focused on the plastic lid on the container and the soup you brought with you.
“Do you think you could sit up? I probably should have asked before I brought you soup, but...” you looked up, making eye contact with him.
Cater’s heart leapt into his throat as you eyes examined him, the corners of your lips once again twitching into a soft smile.
“Don’t look so scared, honey. You’re really pretty. It’s sort of charming, seeing your hair all messed up and your eyes all bleary.” you teased, reaching out to cup his cheek, “You look cute.”
He had to say something back, something to make you laugh. Something to make you smile. Something that would make you stay a bit longer.
“Cay-Cay is always cute!” he teased back, coughing at the end of his sentence.
“Yes you are. But really, thank you. We can work through whatever was bothering you whenever you’re ready. Whatever it was, I can assure you, it won’t change the way I look at you.” you pinched his cheek gently, stirring the spoon with the spoon, “I’ll only like you more.”
“Pinky promise?” Cater joked again, secretly hoping you’d see through him like you always did.
“Pinky promise, my pretty diamond. I’ll never get sick of you.” you snickered.
Ugh, you were so cute. Maybe someday, he’d find the strength to open up to you. Maybe someday he could believe he was worthy of you, and maybe he’d be able to let everything out with you.
But for now, he’d take baby steps.
Maybe being more Cater for a while...wouldn’t be so bad.
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mortuarywriting · 8 months ago
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If I outline what the fuck i wanna see in my self indulgent au will it give me the kick in the ass to write it.
Obviously relative spoiler/high notes/plot points below
The premise is, so far, nobody has seen where Simon lives. As far as they- they being Gaz, Soap, and Price- know he has a flat in Manchester.
Well leaving base one night(ish, time negotiable), the road they were all taking in their separate vehicles is closed due to a nasty accident. Gonna be blocked for 24 hours kinda mess.
So Ghost offers to let them all stay at his place, if only for a bit or the night if they prefer
Everyone just kinda. Well this isn't what we were expecting but alright. So they follow his car, it's pissing down rain and you can't see shit before you but the tail lights you're following but they've committed and by the time they pull off the road they're fuckin nowhere. House is fairly isolated, separate garage building, coop in the backyard, and a thatch roof cottage. Whose Nan's attic is Simon living in???
Except, not a random old biddie. Just a random fat American?? It's obvious they're familiar enough with each other, giving each other shit and that there's a whole "you got back from a mission here is our you came home routine"
Whole mess. The group stays the night because now they're nosy and wanna find out what the relationship is. You both say roommates. They don't wholly believe that.
Simon and roomie sleep downstairs, he can't sleep in a bed yet after the mission and roomie makes sure there's enough background noise that he doesn't snap into combat mode everything is about to go to shit.
Next morning roomie and Simon team up to make a hodge podge of all kinds of breakfast food and between them all there are no leftovers. Concerns are had if everyone ate enough (and then biscuits and gravy settled).
Its back to routine and roomie goes out to grocery shop to stock back up on "i need to feed myself and a whole ass army dude" levels of food and snackies.
While Simon is trying to get Soap and Gaz to stop making excuses to stick around (all good-natured fun) there is a call. Roomie prefaces this with they're fine!!! But uh. They did get hit by a car. A bit. Enough that there has to be a report. Come get the groceries?
And this is the part where they find out Simon and roomie are married. Have been for y e a r s. Technically the town knows them under roomie's last name as a couple.
After the dust is settled and everyone is back at the cottage the explaining happens. Yes, they're married. Vegas happened. It's been a long time and they kinda glossed over the whole "he's a dead man" legal bit for it. Roomie still gets married rights. How do you think he has a lease as a dead man roomie legitimately wants to know. The cottage is in their name, his isn't on it to keep it all off the record if people come knocking for him.
(He does actually have a Manchester flat, though. Landlord takes cash payments however many months at a time and doesn't ask questions. Roomie gets mail from it every once in a blue moon.)
Relationship is largely "we're married but for tax benefits"esque because they're both some flavor of ace. If he's in town roomie checks on if he wants to go to the Saturday munches or not but that's sir not appearing in this fic.
But yeah. Just fun self indulgence.
Could go write the Vegas bit. Write work "being brought home". Bonding activities. List of things for when he retires. Potentially kidnapping. S o many fun options but I just. Gotta write it.
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star-neo-love · 4 months ago
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☆RULES☆
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MOST IMPORTANTLY:
homophobia, transphobia, racism, or any other type of discrimination and xenophobia will NOT be tolerated
hate speech or any other sort of derogatory or purposefully offensive behaviour is also completely UNWELCOME here
swearing and suggestive stuff (e.g. sex jokes, thirsting, or whatever) is perfectly fine (I do that all the time), but if you make me uncomfortable and refuse to stop after being told to, I will block and possibly report you
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other:
requests are currently closed. you can send in requests, that's perfectly fine, but I won't be writing them yet
when I do open my requests, I have the right to refuse to write any requests that I either can't do, or make me uncomfortable. I will reply to you and give a reason, so if I haven't said anything, I'm probably just getting around to it, please be patient
I am a busy person and have important studying and shit to do, so if you harass me in my inbox, it's not going to make me reply any faster. if you harass me, I will report you and block you
I will try my best to be active, but if I am not, that is no excuse to attack me. I have a life, which means I have actual things I NEED to do
please do not make any nasty comments, or send me unsolicited hateful shit, I WILL block you
I'm just a high schooler writing fics for fun, so if you don't like it, don't read. constructive feedback is fine, but don't criticise my work, I do it as a hobby
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
that's basically it, so just don't be a shitty person, and I hope you'll all enjoy your experience on my blog!!!
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