#ive just started black listing shit

[xazz]

The more it comes up on my fyp and even my dash the more I just... Don't care about your sexuality, or your romance life, or your gender. Like in a positive way. I just don't care about you as a stranger and what the fuck is going on with your interpersonal life.

And god it's so exhausting seeing 1,000 posts from my people even (aros and aces) where I just... I just don't care man. I don't care that you're upset ppl see romance as more important than friendship. I don't care that you think it's crazy people associate sex with being human. Like those are all human experiances and you're being fucking annoying. And I just don't care about your own personal Problem with allo people. Or trans people's stupid issues with cis people. Or is2g I've seen the same 'lesbianism is a gender and a sexuality' post like 15 times and every time I see it I'm this much closer to blocking a mutual (not their fault but I am tired of my fyp serving me that fucking post). Like I'm talking micro petty bullshit. Not hate crime or anywhere NEAR it. But the most asinine complaining about how allos are actually evil for acting like romance or sex is a universal experience.

Listen kids. Asexuals and aromantics make up a microscopic portion of the global population. So yes. To 99.65% of the population enjoying romance and sex is a real thing and that's enough to make it universal.

Or I just see so many posts about how platonic is as good of not better than romance with this veiled insinuation that if you're aro and you like romance or you want to be romantic you're a freak. Like shut up? I don't care about your opinions man. 'your experiances is not universal' well neither is your bitch ass complaining. Sex and romance exists and is important for 90%+ of the global population.

I just don't care, anymore, about aroace posts, or trans posts, or gay posts, or lesbian posts, or queer posts or disability posts, or X marginalized group post that contains so much petty anger. Actual anger is one thing. Petty anger about petty grievances because you don't like some actually innocuous thing in the world is so tired. Get over it. Get mad about something real and not because someone writes robots as 'finding their humanity when they learn to love' is something strange or triggering to you. Get a fucking grip.

[arolesbianism]

I should rly play portal, but at the same time I find it kind of funny to have it continue to exist as that one game I'd fuck around with the physics in as a lil kid instead of actually doing the puzzles in my memories especially since I'm sure I'd have rly liked glados if I actually bothered to actually progress in the video game I was playing

[savethepinecones]

ive been cataloguing all my shit and putting a list of whats inside each tote so i dont have to dig through a bunch of them when i need to find something later. my book tote has a list of every book that i own. i described every single poster that i got at cons. but this fucking yarn is gonna be the death of me

[kuni-is-daddy]

I just want Scara to be an asshole giving me mixed signals, he sees us one day talking with Dottore and that’s a big no. He’s going to have to show you that your his (please I’m so down bad for this man) 🛐🛐

OMG AAA THAT MADE ME SAD BCUZ I SPECIFICALLY DONT FW DOTTORE BC OF SCARA. BUT THATS WHY HES SUCH A GOOD VILLAIN 😭

Brat.

DOM!Scaramouche x SUB! Female fatui harbinger reader.

Scara fic list

1.2k WORDS. FILTH.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Dottore trying to convince you to antagonize scaramouche and take advantage of him just so he can get off more experiments. Mentioning how its visible that scaramouche has a 'tolerance to you' unlike the rest of the fatui(except his 'bestie' Childe) Scaramouche would overhear this and only this part of the conversation.

Scaramouche would distance himself from you during dinner and missions for the rest of the week. During a gathering to honor childe and La signora for retrieving the geo archons gnosis you'd stand next to him and begin the conversation.

"Kuni? Love? How is your missions going? You've been busy lately and...we really havent had much time to talk. Do you want to catch up at my place after?" Scara had no intention of talking to you for god knows how long because he was truly hurt after seeing you talk to dottore. He started to believe over the course of the days he's been distant to you that you just didnt care, but after hearing 'you've been busy lately' he just assumed that you really we're oblivious. At the thought of it he smirked and then scoffed you off with a "Ok" while you smiled and gave him a one sided hug.

Scara who would purposely leave the gathering early just to wait for you inside your room in your house, Only with a black shirt and shorts on. "Oh- Kuni..Your already..here..I forgot you had a key. I see you made yourself at home" Youd try to brush it off with a laugh but his cold gaze upon you just gave you shivers. He pinned you against the wall and asked you immeditately. "What we're you doing with dottore?"

Smutt:

'Dottore..how did-' "S-scara We're you spying on me?!" he scoffed "Of fucking course i was? Where the hell we're you?! Ive been looking for you for fucking days and then I catch you with that bastard?! Have you forgotten what HE did to me y/n?" "No! No i havent.. Is that what this is about? because i talked to Dottore 1 time your all frustrated like this?" Scara was even more pissed off. first you talk to his enemy then act like its nothing. He was beyond fed up. "Kuni.. please, It was just for work. I would kill him in a heartbeat if it wasn't for our Excellency." "Yeah I know what fucking work you two we're talking about. Taking advantage of me? Huh? is that what you wanted to do Brat." "What?! no Kuni I'd never hurt-" He slammed his hand around your throat "AGh- Kuni-" "how about I take advantage of you huh? You want that?" You knew you were going to get punished anyway, god you despised your job even more. "Y-yes.. Kuni." "Good, that's what I wanted to fucking hear from you brat. Take off your top."

You nervously strip Infront of your s/o after he releases his grip off of your neck, gasping for air. "Shit look at these tits.." he leaned his head towards your chest, looking up at your expression before licking around your boobs. "Kuni~ stop.." you moaned while placing your hand against his smooth hair. "No. I'm going to mark your fucking body so you know your mine. Take it like a good girl." He caressed both of your breasts with his hands while rubbing your nipples with his finger. "K-Kuni! Be gentle..ah..your going too rough~" "shit.. I love how sensitive you are around your breasts. Makes me so hard. Are you wet for me Y/n?" You panned your face away and pouted. He grabbed hard on one of your boobs "AH~ Y-YES KUNI~" "Your so pathetic y/n, I'm trying to take your punishment slow yet you can't even answer for me. Maybe I should take you right now." He pulled away from your chest and moved his fingers down to your pants. You tried to pull away yet only now realizing you we're still against the wall. "Your so..wet y/n....love hearing your body throb for me..just like that.", He bit into the side of your neck, sucking while rubbing his finger against your clit "Scara..please AH~"

"Mmm mmm brat~ don't fucking beg for me now. I don't care about some shit rank, you need to know your worth. How your mine. How your my cocksleve. We're you showing yourself off to that sick fuck? Could he make you moan out like this?" "N-nO master~ I wouldn't..im' all yours~" Kuni's hard on grew though his pants. "Yeah theirs my good girl. Say master again and I'll let you cum on my fingers." His pace became rapid, scara put 2 inside of you as both of your body's jerked back and forth against the wall as if he was fucking you. It was too much, you could feel your heartbeat fastening in your chest, the lewd moans you let out while scara kept moaning praises in your ear "Yeah..just like that. Cum on masters fingers, be my good girl. Y/n. Cum for me. Cum baby."

"M-MASTER AH~ F-FUCK KUNI~" you gripped onto his back hard as you came along his fingers, legs shaking from the burning orgasm you just had. "God..look at how much you came on my fingers." He licked up your juices. "Ugh...you taste so good y/n. So fucking good. Maybe I shouldn't punish you since you did so well." He began picking up your shirt and bra. Up until you got on your knees, sticking your tongue out while pointing towards your mouth. He turned his head and immediately dropped your clothes. "Mmm look at this. And here I was thinking to let out off the hook" he squatted down to your height. Staring at the newfound desperation in your eyes while grabbing your hair.

"I don't care if the tsaritsa herself or the divine wants you against me. You'll only listen to me. And you'll only be mine, Y/N."

[chilewithcarnage]

I, a very white and somewhat privileged person, am absolutely terrified to draw colored people. Because I don’t know if I’d cross the thin line of tasteful and authentic or racist and stereotypical…

Lol for starters don't refer to us as coloured people. This ain't 1955. Secondly my best advice to you is to use references of actual people of color. I would highly recommend staying away from those white men art station youtuber type artists for tutorials because they get a majority of their techniques and style from main stream video games and comic books, which to put it nicely don't have the best reputation for representing women and poc. tangent over, so yeah references. real life photographs of brown and black people.

pinterest is a site that a lot of current, especially younger artists like to use, but in all honesty it's not a very good source for someone trying to learn the fundamentals. it'll mainly show you 20 something year old ig and twitter models which is okay if you wanna just draw pretty people; but not the best if you wanna like I said learn fundamentals + have a portfolio that's varied. also it's rife with ai shit and stolen art, so yeah would only recommend that as an initial starting point/using it to make your own personal board for your saved images.

stock photo sites are my go to for refs. getty images, istock, alamy, etc. a simple right click save image or screenshot will work to get the images you want for free. of course there will be the watermarks, but they're honestly a very small issue to bypass. as long as they're not opaque and nearly covering the entire subject; you're good. a nice thing about stock photo sites is they usually give you the option to filter the image search results. say for instance you want to draw an elderly asian woman cooking or a young black man painting a picture or an indigenous child playing with dolls. you can look up certain terms you want in the search bar & specify gender, age and ethnicity to narrow down your search to what you want.

another awesome place for references i discovered during college is posespace.com

like with getty images, it gives you the option to filter your searches. they also have their models in clothed or nude shoots in the event that you want to practice some bare bones anatomy.

also also, get your info from artists of color. there's a decent amount of tutorials ive found over the years on here and youtube on coloring skintones, drawing certain hair types, how to avoid caricatures and stereotyping, different facial features, cultural hairstyles. the list goes on. don't be afraid to depict people outside of your race. literally just go about drawing us the same way you would a white person. don't be scared, as long as you remain respectful and make an honest effort to learn; you'll do fine.

resource links by and from artists of color:

'how i draw south + southeast asian people'

an example of what to avoid when stylizing east asian characters

'drawing asian people, source: i'm asian'

'lessons from drawing I: what is asian anyways?'

'how to draw indians'

'how to draw arabs'

'How I draw skin Part 2: DON”T DRAW NATIVE PEOPLE WITH RED SKIN!!!! A tutorial' (the link to the first part of this tutorial is broken sorry)

How to Draw Native People: a Tutorial/Reference Guide

How to Draw Black People by peachdeluxe

tips for drawing black people by rosheruu

drawing east asian faces by chuwenjie

how to draw black people series by Artistik Freedom (youtube)

✏️How I draw black hairstyles (simple) 🌱 by Likelihood Art (youtube)

there's also a bunch of black and brown artists on twitter and tiktok, so checking those sites for tutorials would be a good additional resource

good luck on your illustrating melanin endeavors 👍🏾

[xamaxenta]

New MAS meetcute

Marco attending a very extended family members wedding that, goes to shit as one of the cheapest and tackiest weddings hes ever attended in his life but he showed up according to dress code which is to say he looks fine as hell

But the brides father (the family marrying into theirs) ended up getting blackout drunk and started a fist fight with one of the bartenders, the other family members ended up squabbling about petty shit that also ended up in a physical altercation, someone gets a concussion and someone pulls a knife — its the brides cousin and Marco cant really be a bystander and out of the goodness of his heart intervenes because hes nice like that

He gets socked in the jaw and wakes up in the arms of an angel, hes got dark sun kissed skin and freckles and a million watt smile hes like hey there champ you got got pretty bad huh? How are you feeling? — runs down the entire list of checks name age where am i blahblah

Oh someone called emergency services and Marco couldn’t be more grateful honestly, realises belatedly that the man cradling him is actually a firefighter he thought he smelt something burning before he got knocked out

The actual paramedics show and its supremely unfair that this one is also obnoxiously goodlooking because hes tall blonde broad shouldered and Marcos never been one to fixate on hands but nobodys hands should be that pretty scars or no scars

Marco mumbles something that makes him realise he is so goddamn thirsty, its hot as balls out summer wedding in full black dinner tie jacket bs and too much alcohol does that to a guy, unglues his tongue like what have i done to warrant access into heaven im not even that religious mind you—

The dark haired fire chief laughs, jostles Marco in his big strong arms god, Marco will actively die in a hot second— The blonde Paramedic leans in to smooth a hand over his forehead and declares heatstroke and with the same snide tone criticises the venue as a whole and who even has a peak summer wedding without adequate cooling amenities and god even his voice is sexy the crisp undertone and its like yeah yeah definitely he’s absolutely addled by the sunbeams toogay Um today

Marco gets patched up and gets a nice IV for all his troubles, Fire Chief Portgas and Chief medic (chief paramed?) Portgas sit with him the entire time occasionally rotating out to check on the rest of the dumpsterfire of a wedding and tend to the other injured guests in the meantime, Marco realises hes utterly fucked when one the blonde slips a number in his suit jacket pocket but moments later the dark haired one scribbles his own on the back of his hand

Truly a goner when he witnesses them squabbling behind the back of the open wings of the firetruck over who had managed to give Marco their number first

The thing is the number is exactly the same, it takes Marco the trip home to realise that they werent just close working partners, not roommates or even brothers, but spouses theyd given him each the home number to their shared residence (as spouses)

Ofc he calls them, its Fire chief portgas who answers a little suspiciously at first but when Marco speaks up he can practically hear the fist pump from over the receiver

“So dinners on us.” Ace says warmly and Marco feels his heart catch on the melted insides of his ribcage, its been a while since hes had time to focus on himself and not his career—

How shall he dress for the occasion?

However you like, its tall blonde gorgeous whos taken over the call, but he does have a small request, the trousers he had worn at that now since annulled wedding, had made his behind look particularly attractive so perhaps those paired with some nice shoes?

So a fellow gentleman, Marco can dress to impress certainly, Ace will pick him up at 7 and Sabo will meet them at the venue

[shoezuki]

Just curious but do you have any sampard fic recommendations?

ooooooo okok i think i remember havin a similar ask and it may or may not be in my drafts still half answered. oops. but anyways im on my phone and headin to work so this is kinda a lame list BUT ANYWAYS HERES SOME

Breaking Ice with Emeralds: Gepard saves sampo and sampo starts basically like... catchin other thieves n leavin em at gepards metaphorical doorstep vaksvdydd. its got sampo being flustered when gep does something nice for him n i love that

I Get the Feeling the Steady Breeze Has Changed Something: sampo keeps breakin into gepards apartment to take care of his plants. they leave each other notes and its so unbearably sweet i need to eat dirt

Fool's Gold: one of my absolute favourite sampard fics no joke. first got me onto aha!sampo and ive read it like 5 times. its so good. fuck shit... fuck

Two Lies Sometimes Equal the Truth: OUAGHHh hh hgg. ggg . fFUCK. got fake dating to try n solve a mysterious serial killer and tenderness and plot twists and its so fucking good its so good. i admittedly havent red like the last 2 chapters yet cuz every time i open the fic i literally black out and end up writing smthin myself it inspires me so hard.

i gotta work but also read basically any fic by both shen and art they r great writers

[popcornforone]

Two faced

A Max Lord Fic

Day 19 of Pedrotober (SDCC Prompt)

Masterlist

If I’m honest when I write the first fic a month ago today, I was like I can do this, & then I realised how much I’d need to write & I was like there’s no way I’ll get to 19, but here we are. So I though sending a DC villain (he’s not though) to comic con would be cool.

Synopsis:- you’ve put effort into your SDCC outfit, Max not so much.

Word count:- 950

Warnings over & above:- promise of oral, descriptive nature, swearing. Shower pleasure.Other than that this is rather tame.

Thanks for the read peoples. I’m genuinely blow away by your likes & shares over the month so far & it’s all down to @alyssamariag & @norththelemon prompt list.

“Babes a little help please” you shout as you come out of the bathroom. “I need this to be zipped up so I can properly go to comic con as Hela from Thor Ragnarok.” Youd spent months & 3 pay cheques on this outfit. That’s even before the price of the tickets & the hotel you are staying in. He booked the hotel, said it would be his treat. You’d been to the gym to make sure you were as trim as possible. You’d even died your hair black & brought an expensive straightener. You were gonna look the part. Your head piece was lying on the bed so you could have the horns.

“Coming sweetie” you hear not looking in his direction. You hold your breath as he zips up the leather from behind you. “You gotta breathe my love otherwise this is gonna keep popping open all day” he says & you sigh & breathe out. He’s right. You might look extrodinary but if that’s the case, what good is it if you pass out. You let it go & suddenly the zip on your outfit doesn’t feel so bad. It fits perfectly.

“Thanks baby” your turn around to smile but then your in shock. “What are you wearing?” Because you had been so preoccupied with your outfit you hadn’t even double checked his. Your disappointed face says it all.

“I’m Harvey Dent” you laugh & shake your head at Maxs answer. “what?”

“Max baby” you sit on the bed as you laugh. “That’s not Harvey Dent, you’ve just picked out your most mob style suit & brushed your hair back. You’ve come as yourself. People are going to think you’ve come to comic con cosplaying as Max Lord business man of the year, not Harvey Dent”

“But I look good…”

“… but it can be better” you say his catchphrase back to him & then lean across the bed & grab your make up pallet.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing” he shrieks as you grab a sponge to start applying some red make up.

“Max trust me”

“I do but”

“No if no buts, do this for me & I’ll give you a blow job every night for the next week” you are not a fan of going down stairs. For special occasions you do it for Max. You see him lick his lips. He loves having the ultimate power over you. Watching your head bob as you take him fully into your mouth. He lets out a little moan just thinking about it.

“Morning, evening?”

“Whenever, please Max,let me make you look the part” he sighs, his mind however is already thinking of how good your mouth will feel on his length.

“Okay” he mumbles & closes his eyes as you start to work your make up magic.

Everyone loved your Hela outfit & everyone really thought Maxs make up was cool at comic con. He did get a few people stop him to ask who he had come from, when he was just side profile without the make up.

“See, ive made my point” you say after the 6th person asks him.

“Okay okay you were right” he says as he leads you into a huge hall & you walk past lots of people, to find your seats in the 3rd row.

“Max why are we here”you say. You had no idea he had got to you hall tickets for a presentation.

“You’ll see” he says as you both sit down. You take your head piece off, it’s not fair on those in the rows behind that their view would be ruined by that’s. They paid for this experience too.

After a few moments the lights go off & up it pops in the screen.

“Holy shit this is hall H isnt it?” You start to shake knowing what it means.

“Yes baby”

You scream in delight, you’re here for the MCU presentation. You don’t care if it ruins yours or his make up you give Max a huge kiss on the cheek.

“How did you sort this out”

“I have my ways” he winks.

Out everyone comes for all the very different film presentations & news, leaving in your opinion the best til last.

“WE LOVE YOU PEDRO!!!!” You stand up & shout along with most of the room as Pedro Pascal is finally revealed as Mr Fantastic, your life complete, this is even more of a big deal in your opinion than Robert coming back to be Doctor Doom. You scream until you run out of air & the scream some more. Max looks up at you, wondering why he’s in love with this crazy woman, but that’s completely why. He loves your obsessions, & love of pop culture & nerdiness. You match his freak & he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You eventually get back to the hotel room after a long day & both flop on the bed & sigh completely spent.

“Ready to do that all again tomorrow Max”

“You betcha” he says. & you giggle.

“Can you help me out of this costume with the zip baby”

“Been waiting for you to say that all day” he says as he slowly unzips it & then starts kissing your bear back as you wriggle out of your costume. “I think we both need a shower to get clean & sort ourselves out”

“You’re right” you reply. “Let’s get all hot & steamy shall we”

“Yes baby”

“& I promise to live up to my promise straight away” he growls as you say that & then leads you to the bathroom. The only noise other than the water filling the air is when he screams as he spills down your throat.

[dyslexic-asexual]

A while ago I had a lot of different types of pants I wanted and was getting frustrated trying to find them and also trying to figure out how to acquire them all without buying anything redundant to my wardrobe... Well Ive finally figured it all out and Im so excited Im going to tell you about my plans- all of these have some element of diy so youre not just reading a shopping list:

I wanted those black cargo jeans with the white contrast seams, this is what was giving me so much trouble to find. I did finally find some but they needed hemmed (as ALL of my pants do, 5'3" problems), but I didnt have time to before college, and I DEFINITELY didnt want to hand sew them, so i just held the hems up with some safety pins I had. I only used two on each leg tho so the hems were still coming unfolded, and well you know me I liked the safety pins so much I just decided to add a bunch more. Like Studded the Whole Hem with Them -more. And that inspired me to eventually turn these into crust pants. I dont have many patches atm but I dont want that many on the pants themselves, and I do want a battle jacket* to go with them. They dont have the painters(?) loops on them so I also want to add those, and the seams are extremely itchy so the waistband needs lined with something softer so Im no longer forced to ALWAYS tuck my shirt in with them.

*Battle jacket: I already had this idea as a tween and started putting ALL my pins and patches on this one vest I have, but its so messy I never wear it. Im going to take the ones I actually want to wear and get a black jacket for them to match the jeans. The vest can stay and hold on to some of the more fun ones, the rest I will probably just give away bc theyre not worth selling.

Copia jeans: holy shit I want these so so so so so so bad 😭 Luckily I have a base to diy them- my current ripped black jeans that I was not at all careful with and completely shredded the elastic, which at first I was sad about but for their new purpose it totally works! And the cut is similar enough for me. Now all I need is matching black fabric to go underneath the rips and something to make the crotch corset (but I want it to just be topical somehow bc even a shitty #fashon button fly is faster than having to painstakingly unlace them every time I have to piss).

Mary jeans: if you dont know already Im putting together a lil Mary goore cosplay and my current jeans^ just arent it, but Im less sure about what I want here. Obviously I want something I can get the most wear out of and still have it look accurate, but I dont really like tight pants. We will just have to see, bc Ive looked a little bit and havent found anything yet.

Patchwork jeans: Ive wanted these for a while and they would also be good to diy (bc I think theyre starting to go "out" and already have in stores) I just need enough different base fabric. I do have a lot of old worn out jeans but as for the colors I definitely dont have any super pale denim.

Current jacket: I want to put something spacey on the backpiece, space is like "my thing" and this is my "signature jacket" so I want to combine them but idk how yet.

Possum cosplay(???): theres a meme on here about wearing a possum outfit and as soon as I saw it I was inspired but I need pretty much every single piece so this is pretty low on the priority list lol 💀

Thanks for reading I love rambling about my future plans bc it helps me get my thoughts in order!

[leafcabbage]

Purely hypothetical,

How much do I have to pay so you ramble about the band Ghost . please

I really wanna get into their music n shit, and feel like there's a lot of story telling in their music that I miss because I Am Shit At Understanding Lyrics And Their Meanings By Myself.

So, how much? (/hj)

you dont have to pay anything! im not deep into the fandom so i would be the first to admit that i am not deeply versed on the lore or anything, but i have been to two rituals (aka concerts) and seen the movie, so i know a bit!

so ghost is a swedish rock/metal/everyone describes it differently band that does everything in full costume and with the story that they are spreading the word of the devil through their music. it's the creation of tobias forge, who is also the front man, currently playing the character of Copia/Papa Emeritus IV. he's the guy in all the posts youre seeing me reblog who ISNT wearing a black mask and all black clothes. his face is a mask though. like a really high quality one thats been painted and stuff. thats why you dont really see his mouth move.

anyway, the way ghost works is that since the formation of the band, different Papas (1-4) were the lead singers of the band, all played by tobias forge. as an era came to the close, the papa would be retired, or beheaded in the 3rd papa (terzo's) case, and the next would take his place to continue to spread the word. the current papa, Copia, has been with us for longer than the others, and Prequelle and Impera are the albums that came out under his time. if you really want to get into the lore, theres also a like... webseries mostly focused on Copia.

then theres the ghouls. those are the guys in the masks. they arent band members as much i suppose, as they're like... contracted performers for tours and certain music videos. so they come and go to an extent, though most ghouls are played by the same people for several years at a time, and a new person = a new ghoul as far as the fandom is concerned. same instrument but new name. i wont get too into all the people behind the masks rn, but they ARE listed on wikipedia now and most are independent musicians with their own music out! the ghouls are all assigned elements based on their instruments (air for keyboard, water for bass, fire for lead guitar, earth for drums, quintessence for rhythm guitar, and multi for the ghouls who do vocals/tambourine/guitar/etc). then they end up with names based on those elements (like keyboard is air, so the keyboard players are cirrus and cumulus).

man i think that's the super basics. but really, at the end of the day, you can just listen to the music. you dont NEED to know all the background to enjoy the music. i didnt know any getting into it and then went on to learn what i know. the ghost wiki is pretty in depth so you can get info there, too, and im happy to do my best to answer any specific questions too! just let me know, my ask box is always open :]

(if youre looking for a music starting place, impera is a good first album)

[detectivehole]

hey detective how do i stop getting bored with everything i do? i can't seem to do anything anymore and it's messing with my head so badly

unfortunately anon this is a textbook symptom of depression, which can effect anyone any time. speaking from personal experience, you want to get the jump on this as soon as you can, and i advise speaking to someone you trust about this experience and seeking medical/professional intervention, as well as researching self help methods. that's all corny, i know, but they can work. depression isn't all sadness and melancholy, a lot or even all of it is unending boredom, and personally ive always found the boredom more agonizing then the sadness

or maybe it's not depression, but better safe than sorry

in the meantime, chasing little highs to keep things bearable is the best method imo, even if it's hard. some suggestions:

create a list of artsy/shitty movies to work through

smoke weed (avoid booze)

create a charcuterie board as fancy or as trashy as your heart desires (best done in conjunction with the weed)

force yourself to revisit something you were obsessed with as a child

take a weekend vacation to a city that's only an hour away

emulate some retro games

waste some disposable cash on a very specific, very out of character thrifted outfit, and wear it in public

play free online games with your friends

play free online games alone

go down a youtube rabbit hole

box dye your hair a color you think is ugly, to keep things interesting. if you hate it, you can dye it black or cut it off. it'll grow back probably

get really into one niche of music to the point where its obnoxious

look through one of the countless free archives online and start a personally curated collection (i like to go through gif cities and just download shit i like)

start a new side blog cataloging something no one cares about. like sidewalk plants, or clouds that look like clouds. squirrels you see

do all of these or none of them or whatever. it's up to you. just remember that nothing is a waste of time because the time is gonna pass anyway. if you do them, and still none of them interest you, you can at least say you did them, and that you were trying to dig yourself from out of this rut. plus they make good conversation pieces

getting through life when everything feels like nothing is about leaning into the absurd and forcing yourself to do things anyway- at least if everything's boring, you have no excuse not to try something new. worst it could be is... still boring. if it's bad at least that's an emotion to feel, and if it's good that's a win

[ghuleh-witch]

And We Are Tied As One Eternally-VII

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explicit Warnings: This chapter contains several CW and TWs. They include mentions and talks of miscarriage, abortion, assault, domestic violence, stalking, depression, and suicide. Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x OFC Additional Tags: soft!dom Copia, eventual smut, developing relationship, kind of a slow burn, no beta reader Chapter Word Count: 2639 Summary: Ellie Moran just wanted to make a new life for herself. Running to escape the people in her past, she ends up in a small town in the middle of nowhere that happens to be home to a Satanic church. She never expected her life to change again after she started attending the public masses at said church. Ao3 || Masterlist Chapters: 7/? Previous Chapters Tag list: @sodoswitchimage

Ellie was sitting on the stoop outside her building as she waited for Copia. She made sure she could be seen by anyone on the street in case Ethan was watching and waiting to pounce. Copia would be there soon, and in the meantime, Ellie played music on her phone to distract her. 

She was listening through all of Ghost’s albums. She started listening to Copia’s first album, Prequelle. His voice was her favorite of the Papas. She just got to the growly bit of Faith when she heard a chuckle. 

“Listening to my songs, cara?” Copia said as he approached. Ellie had been so engrossed she didn’t even see him pull up and park. She looked up at him. He was in black sweatpants and a red hoodie. His face was still painted making him stand out among passersby. 

“Yeah,” Ellie answered. “Your album might be my favorite so far”

“Might be? Ellie, I’m hurt” Copia teased before sitting down next to her. “Do you know if anything was stolen?”

Ellie shook her head. “I didn’t look, but I doubt anything was taken. He just wants to scare me” Ellie said absentmindedly 

“He? Ellie? Do you know who did this?” Copia asked, his head cocking to the side slightly. 

Shit , she thought. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Well, it was too late now. She would have to explain everything. The thought sent terror through her. He was going to think she was pathetic and weak. 

Tell him, the voice in her head insisted. Trust him. 

“I believe it was my ex-fiancé,” Ellie said after a pause. “And now I’m going to have to explain, I guess I should start from the beginning because it’s all gonna come out eventually.” She readjusted her position so she was sitting facing him. She noticed how he mirrored her so they could be face-to-face. “Eleven years ago I was starting my second year of university. It was also the year my mother allowed me to live on campus. It was my first time being away from home, and despite going to a Christian school, I felt free. 

“I got invited to a party off campus and I got super drunk, you know first time experimenting with alcohol and rebelling and all that. At the party, I met a guy named Ethan Rossi. We hit it off. He was nice and also super drunk. We had sex in some back bedroom. It was my first time and I don’t even remember much of it.” Ellie shook her head in shame. “Anyway, we continued to hang out after the party and a month later I missed my period. I got pregnant because we were too drunk to remember to use a condom. 

“I didn’t want a baby though. I was 19. I was thinking about going to get an abortion but the guilt hit me hard, and when I told Ethan I was pregnant and didn’t want to keep the baby, he begged me over and over not to kill our baby or put it up for adoption. He promised to make it work. He promised to take care of me and the baby and provide for us. I was stupid and believed him. We dropped out of school and got a place together and he proposed to me. He went to work full time and left me to play homemaker. My mother was ecstatic. In her eyes, this was all God’s plan. She was planning our wedding and couldn’t wait to be a grandmother. Everyone around me was so happy and excited, but I was miserable. My life was over and there was nothing I could do about it. 

“Things with Ethan were going smoothly until I had a miscarriage at three and a half months. He found me passed out on the bathroom floor and took me to the hospital. They informed us that I miscarried. The ride home was horrible. All Ethan did was scream at me saying it was my fault and that I did this on purpose because he wouldn’t let me get an abortion. I was never more terrified of him in that moment.” 

Ellie took a deep breath and slipped her hands under her thighs to hide the fact she was shaking. “Eventually things settled down, as in he wasn’t screaming at me anymore. He was mean and cold towards me and even got my mother to side with him. They treated me like crap, but I had nowhere else to go and no money so I stayed with him and hoped it would all blow over. Just before my twenty-first birthday, he came home drunk. He kept apologizing to me and saying that we could try again and make another baby.” Ellie closed her eyes tight against the burning tears. “I told him no and he hit me so hard on the cheek that he cracked one of my molars. He let me sit on the floor and cry while he got online and told his friends how much of a bitch I was.”

Ellie cleared her throat, her eyes looking everywhere but at Copia. She didn’t want to know how he viewed her, especially not after what she was about to tell him next. “I tried to kill myself the next morning after he left for work. I didn’t want to live anymore. I was trapped in this relationship with no way to get out. My mother didn’t even care. I wasn’t her daughter anymore. I was a man’s property and he could do whatever he wanted with me. 

“I didn’t care if I was going to hell. It was my only way out. I got in a hot bath and cut my wrist. I was about to cut the other when my mother let herself into our apartment. She was coming to get all the baby stuff she bought so she could return it and get her money back. She found me and called an ambulance and then proceeded to tell me how stupid and selfish I was.” Her fingers trailed over the scar on her wrist hidden by her tattoos. 

“I turned twenty-one in the hospital, and on my birthday a lawyer came to visit me. She was friends with my dad and somehow tracked me down. My dad left me money in an inheritance fund that I could access once I was twenty-one. It wasn’t a ton of money in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough to get me out. Once I was out of the hospital I packed all my things and left. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I didn’t tell anyone I was even leaving. I just got in my car and drove until I was almost out of gas.

“That’s when Ethan started stalking me. He somehow found where I was living and would show up at my work. I was able to get a restraining order but he violated it the very next day. The cops didn’t do anything, so I packed up and left again. Sometimes he would find me and I would move again, and sometimes if I knew I was in one place for too long, I’d just go to a new place. I’ve seen a lot in the nine years I’ve been running—did a lot too. I found a doctor who would remove my tubes for me so there was no chance I could ever have kids against my will. I found a tattoo artist who specialized in covering scars and he recreated all the plants I used to see at my grandmother’s before she passed away. I saw therapists to help me through all the shit I went through, and even now I still try to see one virtually.” She let out a breath. Ellie could feel her heart racing in her chest. “But Ethan’s found me again. I saw him the other night while I was at work, and I know he’s the one that broke into my apartment.”

Ellie finally looked at Copia. His mouth was slightly ajar and he had a look of concern and horror in his eyes. “I’m sorry for dumping this all on you. Please don’t think I’m pathetic and stupid and weak.”

“Tesoro,” Copia said with such tenderness that it made Ellie’s heart speed up even more. “You are not weak or pathetic or stupid. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. You are a survivor. I am so sorry you experienced so much pain and trauma.” 

Ellie was wiping stray tears from her cheek. “Really?” 

“Really,” Copia said putting a hand on her knee and squeezing it. “Thank you for trusting me with your story. I could tell you telling me all that wasn’t easy.”

“I don’t know what to do, Copia,” Ellie sniffled. “I’m afraid of what he will do. I’m going to try to get another restraining order, but I know that won’t stop Ethan. And I can’t afford to move again. I barely have any money left from my dad and I feel like a complete idiot for wasting it all on running.” 

“Answer me, yes or no. Don’t think about it. Do you want to leave and move elsewhere again?”

“No,” Ellie said immediately. “I don’t. I…I like it here and I like the people who are in my life right now.” 

“Then let’s take this one step at a time,” Copia said. “Let’s talk to the police when they get here and then for tonight, at the very least, you’ll come back to the abbey to stay. I’m sure we can find a dorm for you to sleep in or you can stay with Gemma perhaps.” 

Ellie nodded her heart swelling. “Okay, thank you.” 

“Of course, cara, and for the record, I don’t want you to have to leave again either.” 

XXX

Copia never wanted to commit murder more than he did after Ellie told him everything. Copia knew if he ever encountered Ethan the man would not live long after. How could anyone hurt the sweet and strong woman that sat next to him? Copia wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and keep her safe. 

When the police finally showed up, Copia stood aside as Ellie showed them the damage to her apartment. They took her report and then listened to her as she explained the situation with Ethan. Copia clenched his fists when the cops explained they didn’t have enough evidence to investigate Ethan or take him in for questioning even after Ellie showed them the previous restraining order she had against him.

Fucking useless pigs, Copia thought.

After a phone call to her landlord, Ellie packed a bag with a couple of changes of clothes and gathered up anything she’d need to take with her to the abbey. In the morning someone would come replace her door and get her a new set of keys. 

“Do you want to get any of this cleaned up before you go?” Copia asked looking around her apartments. It was sparsely furnished with secondhand furniture. There was nothing on the walls. She had a tiny flat-screen tv sitting on an old coffee table. Hooked up to it was a Playstation, but Copia didn’t know which one it was. He never used a Playstation before. As Ellie shuffled around in her bedroom, he got a peak at some of the games she had, which were all for the Playstation 3 it seemed. He spotted The Last of Us, Portal 2, Skyrim, and Minecraft. He never played any of them before and only ever heard of a couple of them.

“I’m just going to leave it in case the cops want to come back and get pictures,” Ellie said coming out of the bedroom with a backpack. “See you found my games. I noticed you had some nice retro consoles when I was in your room.”

“Si, I like the games I grew up with. Can’t go wrong with a good old Nintendo,” Copia said.

“A bit before my time, I had an N64 when I was a kid before my mother got rid of it. I played a lot of Zelda on that thing,” Ellie reminisced. “Maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe once all this nonsense blows over, maybe you can come over and we can play some games?”

His heart rate skyrocketed at that. His lips turned upward into a smile. “I’d like that.” He stared at her and blinked, coming to his senses. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be here in case Ethan decides to come back,” Ellie said, a slight tremble visible in her frame. 

Copia led the way out and helped Ellie seal the door some some tape the cops left. He then led her out of the building and down the street where his white 1968 Buick LeSabre sat.

“Oh, wow,” Ellie said. “This is a sick car.” 

“Thank you, cara,” Copia preened. “This baby is all mine.” He walked around to the passenger’s side and opened the door for her. “I’ll take your bag.”

“Thanks,” Ellie said shrugging her backpack into Copia’s waiting hands. He put the pack in the trunk as Ellie slid into the seat. 

The drive up to the Ministry was silent. Copia was trying to figure out the best way to help Ellie. Part of him wanted to sick the ghouls on the man making Ellie’s life hell. He glanced at her before his eyes refocused on the road ahead. He was still in shock at how much she revealed to him. She had trusted him enough to tell her story without must hesitation. Copia felt like he didn’t deserve that trust. 

When Copia parked his car in his usual spot, he got out and hurried around to Ellie’s side, opening her door and holding out a hand to help her out. He then grabbed her bag and led her inside the abbey and to his office.

He felt for his bonds with his ghouls, grasping onto a thread and tugging it to bring one of them to the office. Seconds later,  Aether was appearing in the doorway, hands tucked behind his back.

“Ah, Aether, perfect,” Copia said, watching Ellie jump slightly at the sudden appearance of the ghoul. “Could you find Ellie an empty room? She will be staying here for a night or two.”

“Of course,” Aether responded, bowing his head slightly to Ellie. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When Aether departed, Copia turned back to Ellie. “Can I get you anything? Food? Something to drink? Anything?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” Ellie said softly. “I just want to lay down and sleep quite honestly.”

“Fair enough. You’ve had a very long day,” Copia nodded. “Please, let me know if there is anything you need. I mean it. Even if you need to talk after you wake up.” 

Ellie nodded. “Thanks.”

“Found a room,” Aether’s voice once again came from the open door.

Copia looked from Ellie to the ghoul and nodded. “Lead the way.”

Aether took them to a room on the second floor of the residence wing for the Siblings. The room was clean and empty holding a full-sized bed, wardrobe, private bathroom, and dresser. 

“I’ll have someone bring your sheets and towels and all that stuff,” Copia said setting Ellie’s bag on the bed. “Is this okay for you?”

“This is perfect, thank you, really,” Ellie said looking around the room. Her eyes rested on Copia and he could see such gratitude and warmth in them. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”

“Bah,” Copia said waving the suggestion off. “You don’t have to repay us. This is what we do. We help those who need help and shelter those who need sheltering.” 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dionysus xii, m | jjk x ♂wiyllt x myg

pairing(s): jungkook x male wiyllt x yoongi — important: contains m/m pairing— male OC is male whatifyoulivelikethat aka me, the author ;)

summary: The following events are extremely gay. Jeon Jungkook puts himself in a dick 69 (and likes it). Min Yoongi puts himself in a maid outfit (kinda). Also, they share a boyfriend. Not that any of them are gonna admit that straight up. That would just be embarrassing. (They will in their head though, heh.)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; important! male OC and Yoongi are pansexual and Jungkook is bisexual; I'm warning you: everyone's dick is out; in love and none of them will admit it out loud, classic; JK is a lil insecure and gets his reassurance ofc; Yoongi is just a slut kidding but also not; domestic, tbh; D/s smut (hyung kink, praise kink, spit kink, mild restraints, 69, choking, m-masturbation, cumming on each other, cum eating, crossdressing - maid Yoongi + leather body harness + butt plug, pain kink, m-receiving oral, edging, handjob, hair pulling, unprotected anal sex, cowgirl (cowboy? eh, you get it), missionary anal, creampie); non-idol!BTS - sub!Jungkook x dom!male OC x sub!Yoongi; switches between Yoongi’s POV and JK's POV; for the few people who read this series, um, why? my male self has dirty, filthy sex, smh

-

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi

--

“Fuck me. I’m so damn tired of humanity. Does no one have a backbone or ears these days? I don’t get paid enough. Ugh. Patience is a virtue and all that shit. Fuck virtue. I’ve used my last fuck and I just want a damn nap. What about you? You’ve been sitting here all day. I know, aren’t you much comfier since I put you back in the couch?”

Min Yoongi cocked his head.

Commotion? Checked the time. Oh, shit. Did that many hours fly by? He removed the headset from his ears and stood up. Fluttering RBG lighting tried to call him back to the white desktop, but instead he headed to cracked-open bedroom door, past dark gray sheets and a folded black blanket that weren’t his. Yoongi had, however, made the bed. Simply because he had seen the mess.

“I know, bro. You’ve been with me too long to be dumped on the floor like that.”

Yoongi pressed two fingers to the door and pushed it open a little more, craning his head and giving himself a clear view of the living room.

He saw a head of black hair, naked broad shoulders, and a deep scarlet dress shirt halfway off.

what if you

“I’d talk to Jungkook but that guy doesn’t listen to me.”

He could only see half of the back tattoo.

He called out.

“Why are you stripping for the giant plush bear?”

The black hair whipped in a sharp arc, exposing white gold earrings and angular jaw, followed by dark, dark eyes and plush mauve lips in a soft ‘o’ shape. The dress shirt slid down, caught by a flighty hand, but Yoongi didn’t need to see the rest of the tattoo. He knew exactly what it said. He had, after all, run his fingers over it and kissed each letter for many nights.

And that chest.

Fuck, he wanted to make out with it.

The man known to many as Dionysus, but to Yoongi by given name, gawked at him.

“How long you have you been here?” the other male sputtered.

Yoongi caught himself smiling. He usually hated that but, in this case, it added to the teasing. He wasn’t given many chances to tease when it came to his favorite person so Yoongi made sure to take every chance he got. “Couple hours. I wasn’t getting anywhere in the studio today so I figured I would take a break and play Diablo. You said I could use your setup.” He made sure to keep his voice very calm and even despite wanting to burst into laughter.

Those impossibly dark eyes shifted from side to side very rapidly. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since you started talking to the bear.” It wasn’t true but Yoongi wasn’t above lying when it was for his own amusement. One more sin to add to his already hefty list.

The other man made a pained expression and threw his dress shirt onto the black leather couch. It wasn’t aimed to be sexual but Yoongi appreciated what he was seeing all the same. “Great.” Ah, he really did it enjoy the way irritation made that familiar husky voice even deeper. “Now you think I’m even crazier than I already am because I talk to my plushies. I’ll have you know Mr. Bear has seen some shit.”

“Is that his name?”

“Not really. He doesn’t have a name. I just use him as a backrest when I’m alone and watching television.”

Somehow Yoongi found himself a bit jealous of the two-meter-tall café-au-lait-colored plush bear sitting floppily on the couch. It looked back at him with a partway-open stitched smile. Don’t look at me like that. I won’t say anything when Jungkook inevitably dumps you on the ground again, Yoongi thought to the bear.

The bear, understandably, continued smiling.

Ominous.

The currently shirtless man was going through his black leather briefcase with an annoyed click of his tongue, muttering something along the lines of, “Don’t you fucking tell me that I lost my hair tie too, for fuck’s sake,” with dark waves of black falling past his cheeks. It was longer than how he usually had it, huh? The sides had been shaved as usual, but it seemed that he had left it longer this time, similarly to how Yoongi had his hair now.

Speaking of.

Yoongi carefully tugged the black hair tie out of his hair and put it in the pocket of the sweatpants.

For no reason at all.

The rest of his black hair fell around his neck, the curtain bangs wisping against his cheeks. A step closer to the coffee table, and the other male looked up, defeated, and was about to say something, mauve lips parting and all, giving Yoongi about two seconds to fully appreciate those decadent prominent collarbones and dark nipples and crisp black slacks clinging to delicious hips.

Then the front door burst open.

“Yo, hyung!”

Yoongi twitched in annoyance.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

Really? As if surprise was needed. Actually, that tone was probably more akin to seeing an unexpected visitor. Jeon Jungkook had a one-track mind. He also hardly used honorifics – except when he wanted to make it very clear that he was the youngest and seeking attention right now. Now Jungkook closed the door.

“Whoa! You’re naked! Wait. Why are you naked? And in front of Yoongi-hyung? That’s not fair!”

Yoongi stuck his tongue in his cheek and turned to see the doe-eyed, playfully pleading expression of Jeon Jungkook. His black hair was a little shorter now, but neatly parted for once. Surprisingly, he had yet another piercing on the right side of his lip. Half of his arm tattoos were exposed and there was the shadow of the full sleeve under the baggy black t-shirt. Those slate-blue jeans were so shredded that Yoongi was surprised that the denim was still holding on. There was so much leg showing that Jungkook might as well have worn shorts. Or nothing.

“I literally just got home. I was going to change.”

Instant complaint from the younger man. “Why? You look better like that.”

Yoongi felt the directness of those dark, dark eyes asking to provide some confirmational logic. He avoided them and said nothing, staring at the wall next to Jungkook’s head instead. Was that framed print of Jhin from League of Legends always there? Huh.

“I can’t stay naked.”

“You always say that, but you’re wrong,” Jungkook protested, kicking off his sneakers and pushing them against Yoongi’s as he crossed over.

“Don’t tell me you came here to get me to make you dinner again.”

“But, hyung–”

“I was going to make dinner,” Yoongi cut in. “I found black sea bass on sale.”

“I can’t make you cook in my own home,” that deep sigh replied, gazing at him under soft black tresses while one arm was outstretched and holding Jungkook’s chest back. True to his nature, Jungkook flailed about and played along. “I’ll change and help you.”

Oh, really now.

“Your home?”

Yoongi glanced at Jungkook and back to those dark, dark eyes, openly smirking.

“It’s our home now.”

-

“Is there any fantasy you’ve always wanted but never got to do?”

“Me?” The folding of laundry paused as those dark eyebrows knitted in confusion. “My horny ass? Yoongi, come on. You think I wouldn’t attempt the literal second I had a plausible impulse?”

Hmm. That wasn’t really the answer Min Yoongi wanted. He reached over to try and help but had the back of his hand promptly smacked away once again. He didn’t like feeling useless, but the man who called himself Dionysus at times might have a control problem. Or, rather, with one glance to those dark, dark eyes, he may be feeling a bit guilty still about Yoongi doing random housework as he saw fit.

But that was how Yoongi showed…

Anyway.

With how much time he was spending over here, Yoongi figured he might as well. He didn’t like a messy environment either. Three guys spending too much time in one small apartment were bound to get out of control if they didn’t all work together to keep the place clean.

Still, his host was not letting him get into his business (just his mouth and occasionally his asshole, heh). At least when he was home. Therefore, Yoongi had attempted to distract. And failed, but he knew he would. He still wanted to know though. Mostly because he wanted to be special.

He didn’t just think that.

Ahem.

“Do you mean you only attempt to do things that you know the other person will say yes to, or have you actually tried everything you want to do?”

The other male made a neat stack of folded boxer briefs and frowned. His dark hair curled over his forehead in the most delicious, rolled-out-of-bed way. Mmmm. “Well, no one can try everything. I can’t grow tits to try tit-fucking or switch to a vagina to try triple penetration. Sigh.”

Yoongi jerked his head back. “What?”

“I would have to try and find three guys who can stand to see each other naked and that’s a stretch considering you’re still weird around Jungkook,” he continued, opening dresser drawers to put articles of clothing in their respective places. “Which you never have to get used to, by the way. I am only giving an example.”

“I’m fine with seeing him naked.”

Side eye.

Yoongi shrugged, acknowledging he said that a bit too quickly. “He’s usually without a shirt in your apartment.”

“He’s not the most subtle,” the other man agreed.

A short silence. Yoongi found he enjoyed watching him doing such home tasks. When the taller male got dressed for work, he usually wore tailored pieces such as dress shirts and pants. But at home he wore a loose black t-shirt with a graphic of a grim reaper watching television and fitted track pants from the professional League of Legends team T1. Simple, but showed off his slightly eccentric personality. It was a step down from when he dressed to go out where he tended to be much sexier. This type of comfort meant that they were close.

Well, they were also fucking, but Yoongi knew this was different than the physicality of it all.

“What about crossdressing?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked up and found dark, dark eyes staring at him, hands frozen in mid-action.

“Me? I don’t own highly feminine clothing currently, but I guess I could find something…”

“No,” Yoongi corrected. “Me. Cross-dress for you. I know you don’t only like men.”

A sudden thrill coursed through him upon seeing the intrigued expression. He maintained his casual, calm demeanor. His boyfriend still hadn’t moved, not a centimeter, but was instead surveying him curiously, as if he was trying to figure out the seriousness of the suggestion.

“You don’t only like men,” the deep voice countered.

“That doesn’t answer the question of whether or not you would be turned on if I wore more feminine clothing.” Yoongi paused for effect. He, too, could be enticing when he wanted to. “If you want to fuck me in a skirt or dress.”

This was supposed to be a shocking kinky proposal but it was backfiring slightly. Yoongi lifted his thighs slightly and thanked his past self for wearing these baggier sweatpants. He shrugged as leisurely as he could.

“You know, bend me over and violate me.”

Those plush mauve lips parted.

“Could be fun.”

Ever quick and always witty response. “Is that why you grew your hair out?”

Yoongi almost snorted. At least his dick stopped perking up. “No. Come to think of it, helps though.”

An open-mouthed smirk.

“And here I thought you were only a musical genius, but you continue to amaze me.”

-

Past Jeon Jungkook would have never predicted that he would also be deep throating dick when partaking in a sixty-nine, but life had a strange way of making the impossible possible. He probably would have predicted being in handcuffs at the same time though. His porn history was quite telling even if he hadn’t yet had the guts to explore it back then.

If he had thought he couldn’t breathe that well with pussy in his face, well, now Jungkook was beginning to appreciate what other women had done for him in the past when he was the one on top.

This was a lot more difficult than he thought.

Not that he had much time to think about it. Currently, Jungkook was struggling to focus on sucking dick because there was too much going on between his legs. Large hands gripping his tense thighs and pinning them down. Wet. Tongue roughly sliding down the topside of his cock while the underside rubbed against the roof of that talented mouth, the back of that throat squeezing the head with every descent. Tight. He could even feel the measured, warm breath against his balls every time he was swallowed, adding winding sparks to the constant rollercoaster of pleasure. Hot. Jungkook was embarrassed to feel that he was only able to get three-fourths of that hard length into his own mouth but he blamed it on the angle.

His wrists were handcuffed together, but Jungkook could still reach up and run his fingertips over the other male’s lower torso, aching to touch skin on skin.

Well, he had a whole dick down his throat, but you know what he means.

The one above him shifted and the hips rose, giving him some breathing room. Then slowly descended, pressing deep into his throat and mildly suffocating him with his balls. Not that Jungkook minded at this point because the mouth was tightening, changing the expanse of sensation to all over his length, the tongue spreading out and curling around his girth. Little flicks of wet muscle building the ecstasy, heightening the impending apex, making his core tense and his eyes roll up into his head as his hyung thrust slowly into his mouth, using him like the hole he always wanted to be. He did feel bad, just laying there as the other man fucked his throat and sucked him off.

Strong fingers dug into his thighs, hopefully leaving bruises.

He did feel a little guilty.

Mostly, though, Jungkook was so far gone that he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Dionysus.

It really was a fitting alias for someone so excessive.

A deep chuckle resonated around his jerking, shivering cock, bleeding into the blinding haze of orgasm, sending another wave soaring through him. Slight shame, sure, but mostly pride at hearing the clear satisfaction. He could feel it too, the swallowing and the hands that gripped his shaking inner thighs, kneading his flesh. Those full lips floated around the base of the still-engorged head of his cock, rubbing back and forth. Fuck. Fuck, it was hard to explain. A suspension of sensation, not the fleeting high of release but a constant bliss that made him want to cry.

Fuuuuuuuck.

The hips rose. Hard, wet cock fell out of his mouth, slapping him in the face and smearing his own spit on his lips and cheek. He gasped, choking on his own saliva, moaning deeper when that mouth went down on him again, keeping him hard, coaxing his want. Jungkook didn’t care. He didn’t care what was right or wrong. Didn’t care what was happening, even as fingers laced around his slippery balls and locked them in a cage. Didn’t care, reaching up and grazing his fingertips over that dripping length, pressing it to his cheek and rubbing it against his jaw. His saliva stuck to his face. His neck. Whimpers bubbling in his chest as nails scratched down his inner thigh, forcing him to spread his legs open more.

The mouth retreated.

And then tongue cupped around his balls, teeth nicking, leaving him a gasping mess of whines as it travelled all over accompanied by a palm closing in around the throbbing head of his cock, gliding saliva over the sensitive skin.

His entire body tensed, succumbing to the wicked rush of sparks and arousal spreading all over.

“Heh, let me get off you,” the husky voice above him mused.

Jungkook had a fleeting thought of, no, crush me, but then it was flood of air and light invading his senses. Ack! He recoiled into the pillows even though it wasn’t even that bright. Just RGB lighting from the computer and the ghost-shaped lamp on the nightstand still aglow. Didn’t matter though, because now he had to face…

Dark, dark eyes looked down at him.

Paired with an amused smirk.

Jungkook wanted to hide behind his hands but they were handcuffed together. He couldn’t exactly be super subtle brushing back his sweaty hair or anything. The other male continued watching him, his black hair curling around his left cheek and ear. Jungkook found himself staring at those shoulder lines and collarbones, finding himself a bit jealous of the natural beauty of them.

The other male leaned down.

Expression dangerous.

“H… Hyung…?”

“Hm?”

Then Jungkook yelped as he felt his right leg was raised, pressed against the other man’s chest. He briefly hated himself for not working on flexibility more, but then Jungkook has no more room to think as his boyfriend’s left hand wrapped around his throat, that smirk turning wicked.

Wait.

His what?

Jungkook choked and it wasn’t because of the hand around his neck.

“Look at you,” that hazy, low voice continued. “How cute.”

He suddenly became vaguely aware that the deep breathing and sound of hand on flesh was not him, but the older male jacking himself off right above Jungkook’s aching, untouched length. Hey! But he couldn’t say it, whimpering, inhale shorting when the hold around his throat tightened, cutting off more blood. His brain felt fuzzy, his tongue thick and unmovable.

“H-Hyung, please…”

“Please what, my darling?”

He couldn’t feel the pre-cum wasn’t leaking all over his inner thigh right now but Jungkook was pretty damn sure it was happening, and his cheeks were heating up, burning, my darling, sputtering, unable to say anything to the rhythmic slapping sound and calm sighs of physical pleasure. He could feel the cool metal on his skin as he crawled his hands down, down.

Fingertips brushing against dried spit and cum.

“Can I… Can I touch myself, p... please, hyung?”

Jungkook could see that self-satisfied smile through his blurred vision and it made his heart race faster, made his core coil tighter, made his mind slip deeper, deeper into service.

“Of course. Such a good boy for asking.”

Maybe he should have been afraid on how easy it was, afraid of how willing he was to fall into this depravity and be this vulnerable, afraid of how that little praise made him lose his mind, but Jungkook couldn’t think about anything. He could only feel. Feel his thoughts bleed out with the lack of blood. Feel his arousal spiking when he touched himself, stroking his length below that moving hand. Feel the whine escaping him as he teased the swollen head of his cock, rubbing his thumb over the thin skin. Blood rushing, muscles twitching, his legs pinned open by another man’s body, and the man who called himself Dionysus when he wanted to be in the shadows grinned at him, like the devil, bringing him unbreakable heaven amidst all this sin.

“You want me to cum on you?” the other man teased, running his index finger over Jungkook’s jaw as he choked him. “Want me all over your pretty cock so you can get off using my cum as lube?”

Jungkook could only moan in affirmation, both because he was being choked and because he couldn’t think straight – as expected with this dick-on-dick action – at such an obscene, arousing suggestion, excitement and exhilaration burning his veins as he saw the tension ripple across his hyung’s chest, jaw tightening, dark eyes darker, biting his lower lip hard.

Messy black hair was hanging down.

The only foreshadowing was one of his eyebrows cocking deviously.

Then Jungkook gasped as the other male leaned forward and shot hot strings all over his hands, his cock, his burning skin, his eyes rolling back as he felt the thick head press down on his shaft and dribble cum down in a painted streak. The grip on his throat loosened, shooting him into a different rise, oxygen swarming into his lungs. His vision reeled, blurry. Controlled, calm exhales washing onto his shaking chest. No remorse. His gaze snapped back, feeling the twitching head burying into his balls, staining them with orgasm.

Those dark, dark eyes dared him.

“Go on. Your turn.”

Couldn’t look away.

Locked gazes, mouth open, gasping for air, gripping himself tightly. No, tighter. The whimpers growing in his throat, jacking himself off hard and fast, pushing for the climax, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself, slippery, wet, drenched in the heavy scent of sex and the cologne of green tea and marshmallow, herbal and warm, drowning, so good, s-spit on me, hyung, and that little smirk before he did. The splat so visceral, all over his punishing grip and sliding over the pulsing head of his cock, glistening purple-red, and Jungkook threw his head back, unable to look anymore, the hot flush of his cheeks spreading all over, guilty, guilty of being in love.

He came all over his hands and stomach, gasping out that forbidden name.

“Mmmm…”

The hand on his neck left him cold.

His right leg fell, no longer suspended in the air.

Darkness.

Each breath rattling his lungs. His nerves still singing. Movement, but Jungkook didn’t dare open his eyes to know. Then he sucked in a breath, feeling a soft, warm tongue lick around his fingers. His palms. His cock. His crotch. Sucking up the mixture of their cum and spit, feathering kisses and hot breath over his tingling skin.

Oh…

The sweetness was killing him.

My darling.

Jungkook was pretty sure he was insane and making up everything in his head. He didn’t want to do anything but feel this moment. Hands slipped under his. Sticky, wet, and yet those fingertips traced his palms, laying them down against his abs as that mouth kissed up and down his cock, small licks curling around to flick his balls gently. He wasn’t even hard.

It felt so good.

So good.

He didn’t try to fight it. Couldn’t even if he wanted to. Jungkook let himself get lifted, the forearm against his lower back, kisses up his trembling chest, and then those dark, dark eyes observing him under shadowy lashes, amused. Those plush lips grazed Jungkook’s two lip piercings.

“You gonna get up, lazy bones?”

Jungkook made a noise of disagreement.

He had to be forced to clean up, but secretly (or not-so-secretly) Jungkook enjoyed that.

Hehe.

Apparently, he had tugged on the handcuffs a little too much because there was an indent left on the back of his wrists when they were removed. Oops. He hadn’t meant to do that. He didn’t want to get scolded, so he kept his wrists out of sight the best he could so his hyung wouldn’t notice. He received a silent side-eye, but no comment. Warning him to be careful but not wanting to make it a nagging. His hyung always warned him not to overdo it. Jungkook just… got lost in the moment.

Often.

Ahem.

Anyway.

“You okay?”

“Uh?”

It was hard to describe the feeling he got when Jungkook looked up to the other man. Maybe embarrassed, feeling disheveled compared to the confident spark in those dark, dark eyes surveying him with amusement. Maybe confused at the butterflies dancing in his chest, envious that the older male seemed so calm shirtless, messy hair, black boxer briefs, drying his hands on a towel before tossing it onto his shoulder like a goddamn movie main character. Maybe…

Those mauve lips curved into a smile.

Jungkook couldn’t define in words what love was, but love was definitely the feeling he felt in this moment, witnessing that smile.

“Did you enjoy that? Anything you didn’t?”

“O… Oh?” It finally clicked in his brain what was being asked. His cheeks seared with warmth. “Um…?!”

Instead of sitting beside him, the man who called himself Dionysus at times smiled wider, giving him the appearance of an endearing trickster. He remained standing in front of Jungkook sitting on the side of the bed. Too close to be mistaken as friends. “I thought I did a pretty good job. You came harder than usual, or what it because I was watching you this time? Guess I can’t tell if I’m too busy swallowing, hm?” Why was he talking about this so calmly? But there was nowhere to run either, caught between a piercing gaze and devious smirk, graceful fingers fanned over one hip like an underwear model.

“I… w-wha… hyung was amazing, I–”

And then Jungkook froze.

Words dead in his throat.

That was right.

Me.

The other man bent down and brushed hair out of his vision, but Jungkook was freezing up. Right. Now that the adrenaline was gone, the scent of green tea and marshmallow was as comforting as it was a remainder. Hyung is amazing. Every time, without fail, thinking about every touch and every kiss and Jungkook was only along for the ride.

“Was… Was I okay, hyung?”

“Hm?” Movement, and Jungkook shifted his gaze to see that familiar head tilt teasing him. “What do you mean, were you okay? Did I not show my appreciation well?” A fingertip traced across his cheek.

Chills shimmering all over his shoulders and yet.

“But you only came once.”

A light chuckle. “Uh huh.”

Jungkook felt his vision blur. Shit. Why was he getting teary? He blinked hard, biting his lower lip tensely, the swift pain fighting back the tears. The other man noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He knew everything about everyone. He could read body language like a children’s book, and Jungkook was simply not on that level.

“You didn’t cum in my mouth…” he mumbled, looking away, ashamed. “I’m not good enough.”

“Hah?”

Jungkook had been trying not to think about it too much. Everything was already complicated, from how they met to the not-so-straight sexual relationship to the pit-a-pat feeling in his chest at wanting to be called my darling over and over again, but certain rain-cloud thoughts had been persistent, overshadowing everything else. The feeling of not good enough. When it had only been their isolated interactions, Jungkook didn’t think about how the other male slept with other people. Honestly, Jungkook didn’t even care since it was so obvious his hyung made him a priority.

But then there was Min Yoongi.

Watching them together was just…

“Hey.”

He felt hands on his shoulders, but Jungkook shut his eyes, shaking his head quickly, the whirlwind thoughts pouring through him. He had no right to be upset. No place to make demands, no idea what were the right words to say, no, he needed to shut up and appreciate that he could even be in this position. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder next time, I’m sor–”

“Stop saying silly things.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice choked up, cracking in his chest. “I can do better.”

Thwack.

“Ow!”

A sharp pain shot over his forehead. It took Jungkook a moment to realize he had been flicked. His eyes snapped open, snapping his head up to gawk, slack-jawed. The older man looked annoyed, looking down at him with a hand still on Jungkook’s right shoulder. He lowered his right hand, shaking his head with a sigh, wave of black hair drifting over his left eye.

“Jungkook, please, can you listen to me for once in your life?”

Rubbing his forehead with his left hand. Less ow but still ow. “What?” Didn’t he listen pretty well? Er, sometimes. But hyung liked the bratty thing!

“You really think I give a shit about quantity over quality?” Even being scolded in that husky voice wasn’t that bad. Those dark, dark eyes narrowed and Jungkook instinctively felt his spine stiffen. Ahem. Right. Listening. “Bro, I’m not keeping count. Every once in a while, I like to discuss about how the sex was and what you liked about it. Me, I don’t stop unless I’m satisfied. It isn’t the number of orgasms or what exactly happens that is the satisfying part for me. The satisfying part is you.”

“But if I was better… wait, what?”

You.

Jungkook pointed to himself, eyes widening. “Me?”

Eye roll. “Yeah, you, idiot.”

And then that face was close, suddenly dropping down. Green tea. Marshmallow. Herbal and warm. Soft black hair, even darker eyes, plush mauve lips in a small smirk. The shine in that gaze, the solidness of that hand on his shoulder, and that expression absolutely not having any of Jungkook’s bullshit.

“I chose you.”

Pause.

Half-smile.

“Is this about Yoongi?”

Jungkook found he couldn’t say anything but he didn’t have to.

Silence was telling.

His hyung nodded. “Whether it is or not. Whether you believe me or not… I’m not comparing. I don’t compare you to him or anyone else. I don’t like people near me. I don’t like doing things I don’t like doing. But I like being near you. I like learning the things you like and I like doing them for you. Are there things you do that aggravate me? Yeah, like this stubbornness you have about not telling me what’s bothering you sooner so I can set you straight. But I chose you. I’m stubborn too, and you’re not going to change my mind.”

Closing the distance.

His left hand slipped away and now they were forehead to forehead, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I… I can do better for you…” Jungkook whispered to the darkness.

 “You’re already loads better than the first time. Couple more loads and we’ll reevaluate.”

“Hey!”

The darkness sparkled.

The pause that followed, not uncomfortable but substantial.

A fleeting kiss and lingering words.

“You’re mine. And don’t you forget it.”

-

“Do you need help in there?”

“No. Shut up.”

Did he have to pull up the listing on his phone to figure out the strap situation? Yeah, maybe. Perhaps he shouldn’t wear the harness? Well, he had already gotten it halfway on. Sigh. Okay, zip this up, straighten this out, lace up these hook-and-eyes, turn it around, put the damn frilly ass apron on, and…

Min Yoongi looked at himself in the mirror.

What the fuck am I doing?

He couldn’t walk out like this.

It had been a stupid idea and now the stupid had gone too far. Was all this really worth the bit? Fuck, he couldn’t even look himself in the eye. Yoongi spied the white ruffled headband by the sink and crammed it on. Ack. Pulled it off and readjusted the front of his black hair to frame his face and then rest the headband behind. Should he tie his hair back? He reached up and collected some of his hair back. It didn’t give a “pretty” look. He left it down, pulling more of it forward. Smoothed out the mid-thigh length black skirt. It was made of a thicker material that had more body and swish to it. He hadn’t liked any of the cheap costume options when he searched around, so instead Yoongi had selected clothing pieces that matched and made his own outfit.

Flowy white blouse with a high collar and large black velvet bow.

Fitted black corset over it.

Black skirt with the added touch of a white ruffled apron and sheer black thigh-highs.

And, under it all, a surprise.

He had thought about buying an easy costume. Trashy and slutty and fuckable. He had even looked into the latex options but reading up on the meticulous preparation and the sweaty aftermath (and the smell, ew), uh, nah. Besides, if he other male had done as he asked, with the silver rings and all, Yoongi would have felt silly in a costume. No, he wanted it to be obvious that some thought had been put into this. He had wanted it to be a conscious effort.

Okay, and also Yoongi wanted to look somewhat hot.

He wanted to be able to pick styles that looked good on him, not throw on some poorly-made get-up. Not that he knew if this was a sexy outfit or not. He didn’t mind seeing himself in a more feminine silhouette. Dare he say his slender frame worked in his favor here? Well, anyway, it was more the implications of why he was wearing it. And what he was going to do in it.

Um.

Should he have brought makeup? Shit.

You’re stalling.

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbled under his breath, snatching his cologne from the counter and dousing his neck. Who cared about makeup? He was still a man. He was only wearing different clothes that he usually did. Yoongi was just trying a different look. His boyfriend didn’t want a different person.

His.

What?

Yoongi abruptly spun around and yanked open the bathroom door. His face felt like it was on fire.

“Oh, good, I was beginning to think you fell in the toilet–”

Dead silence.

Damn, the man who sometimes called himself Dionysus looked good. Sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread open. Dressier than usual, just as Yoongi had asked. Black slacks. Black brocade dress shirt with embroidered white flowers. Pressed, fitted black vest. Long fingers spread out on the bed, each one adorned with sterling silver rings. Black hair swept to the left, longer than usual, brushing against his jaw, exposing his right ear and the thin silver chain connecting one of the helix piercings to the lobe.

Yoongi managed to push his hand away from the doorframe, breathing out slowly.

“Hello… Master.”

The other man was malfunctioning.

“H… Hah?”

Staring at him with a stunned look. Wide eyes and slack jaw included. It actually helped Yoongi stand a little straighter and relax a little bit. At least he wasn’t being laughed at. He frowned and held onto his left elbow with this right hand, unsure what to do now. The pressure of his right forearm over his corseted waist helped ease the nervousness a bit.

He didn’t plan a whole maid roleplay or anything.

The other male sat up attentively. “You didn’t say it was a maid outfit.”

“Well.” Yoongi looked away, feeling his cheeks flush hotter. “It is the most classic S-and-M costume, right?”

“Hmmmm, I’ve never seen this set before. Did you pick the pieces individually and plan the outfit?”

Weird that he noticed so fast. But nice. “Y… Yeah…”

“Oh? How thoughtful.”

Ack, what was this? Yoongi was suddenly hyperaware of the air between his legs and the effect of words. And tone. And… shit. He was doing that thing. He let go of his arm and stuck his hands by his thighs, hiding his balled-up fists in the swish of the skirt. He didn’t notice that the other man was standing right in front of him until it was too late, freezing up as the shadow appeared. Snapping his head up to a familiar smirk on mauve lips, sparkling dark orbs watching his every move with amusement.

“How do you feel?”

Like my ribcage is gonna explode! Just fuck me so I don’t have to say anything!

“F-Fine.”

Racing sparks shot up his spine as an exploring fingertip traced his chin. Yoongi realized he had gotten used to the stripped-down version of his lover. He had gotten used to the t-shirts, the comfy pants, the lack of rings, the messy hair, and the natural sexiness of every move. The other man was mindful of how he held himself, but at home there wasn’t an air of showmanship nor a sharp outfit to hide behind. He didn’t believe in giving it all away at once. After all, this was a man who chose an alias for most of the general public to address him.

But.

Yoongi could tell right away when people were perfectly comfortable in their appearance reflecting who they were inside. He was witnessing it right now. Those fingertips slid down his neck, caressing the velvet bow. Their eyes locked. Darkness to anticipation. Their colognes mixed together at their close proximity. His, citrus, sharp, dark. Melding with green tea, marshmallow, and intoxication.

They called him Dionysus.

But Yoongi called him…

“What did you call me again?”

Love.

“Master.”

A half-smile. “You’re taking this pretty seriously, hm?”

Instead of his usual witty response, Yoongi remained calm, aiming to shift the mood into their respective headspaces.

“I always take serving you seriously, Master.”

The playful expression remained, but the air was different now. Hotter. The taller male raised his hands, backing off slightly, looking up and down unashamedly. It was less objectifying than it was a detailed overview.

“You look good in a skirt.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Raised eyebrow.

Yoongi shrugged. “My legs are as nice as any girl group member. Nicer, even.”

A mirthful laugh. Movement. He was unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them back, exposing his wrists and forearms. A heavy silver chain bracelet on his left wrist. “I do like your legs wrapped around me, so maybe you’re onto something.” There was a peek of silver chain around his neck too. That’s right. He had shown Yoongi a necklace he had purchased recently, a heavy sterling silver pendant that could hold a guitar pick, so, naturally.

He had asked for one of Yoongi’s.

“W-What are you doing?”

Small smirk. “Preparing.”

“For what?” he snapped back. Yoongi hadn’t meant his voice to bristle but what how the hell was he supposed to react? He was in a skirt, for fuck’s sake! And an apron! And a damn frilly headband and they were going to–

He froze as a heavily ringed hand gripped his chin.

Insatiable dark, dark eyes.

“For you.”

He couldn’t move as that head tilted, smirk turning into the grin of a devil, and then those lips were on his. Dangerously soft and to the pattern of a pulse, keeping an infuriating distance between them. Yoongi felt himself reach up, but another hand stopped him, tight grip around his wrist, silver rings cutting into his skin and making him gasp. The hand on his chin slipped away, stalking around his shoulder and around his neck, pressing his trapped hand against his chest.

His body tensed.

The leather harness cut into his torso. A breath too tight.

He whimpered into the kiss.

A pause.

Yoongi could feel the taller male staring at him but he didn’t dare open his eyes.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” he muttered immediately.

“No as in yes or no as in I’m not supposed to know yet?” the gentle, stern voice pressed.

Yoongi opened his eyes slowly, not making eye contact but appreciating the shape of those perfect lips instead.

“No as in shut the fuck up and let me do my job.”

He glanced up with a glare.

Playful amusement and deliciously intrigued.

“You know, you’re a really bossy maid.”

Yeah, well, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself do the whole helpless schtick they did in porn movies because that shit would be way too embarrassing, not to mention not his personality at all. Besides, Yoongi knew him well enough. There was no fun in dominating a helpless creature. No satisfaction unless there was resistance.

Also, his boyfriend was obsessed with Jungkook, so he must love fucking a freaking annoying brat.

“And you’re not going anywhere dressed like that,” Yoongi snapped, lifting his hands towards the vest.

Only to get slapped away.

“Oh? Why not?”

Bro, do you wanna fuck or what? He tried not to let his frustration show. “Then where would you be going?” Okay, fine, he would play along. For now.

Casual shrug. “A date.”

Are you serious? His annoyance must have shown, because that relaxed expression became subtly arrogant. “Why would you need to go on a date–” When I’m literally right here! The fuck I put all this on for?!

“Are you implying that I don’t need someone else to touch me?”

Hook, line, sinker.

Yoongi gawked at him, dumbstruck.

The other male raised a finger and toyed with the edge of the velvet bow along his neck. “I can’t say I like the idea either, but masters and maids are supposed to be professional. Lines can’t be crossed. It is better if I leave right now.”

Wait, what the fuck was going on? Where they actually being themselves or roleplaying? How deep were they getting into this? This was a joke, right? There was no way he was just going to up and leave Yoongi in his cute maid outfit with blue balls and go off sucking somebody else’s face. The fuck was that? The anger flared up hot. I’m not your actual maid, you fuckin’ idi–

But before jealousy cloud his vision, a ringed hand covered his mouth.

Swift and with one yank, the velvet ribbon was undone.

“Lines can’t be crossed.”

Why did it feel as if the other man towered over him? He wasn’t so much taller, but there was such an obvious difference between the calm and the fury. A curtain of black hair trapped Yoongi in shadow.

“But there are no rules in this unbreakable heaven, right?” that husky voice whispered, low and dark.

Yoongi couldn’t say anything.

He just nodded, his blood racing in his veins.

Those dark, dark eyes seemed satisfied.

“Hold out your hands, my darling.”

His legs turned to jelly. What? The world was an electric haze. The fuck he just say? His hands raised automatically, gasp tittering in his throat as he felt the velvet wind around his wrists, then pivot perpendicular to tie around itself in the center, knowing exactly that it was the other male doing it with a smile, acting as if he didn’t just create a whole rollercoaster of emotions in less than five minutes.

But Yoongi could do nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing but listen.

“Kneel down for me.”

Obediently, tucking his calves under him, being careful and proper about it. The skirt flared out, covering his legs and feet entirely. Yoongi straightened his back, not wanting to look sloppy. It was impossible to slouch in the corset anyway. He didn’t feel like a different person but there was a strange exhilaration at the wrongness of it all. He settled his bound hands in his lap and looked up.

The other man stood above him, smiling, thumbs in the edge of his slacks.

“I like it.”

His cheeks warmed but Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to say anything because, fuck, he found himself enjoying it too. His fingers curled in the thick fabric of the skirt. Tightness in his core. Desire swirling, radiating. He didn’t break eye contact.

“You don’t like the idea of someone else touching me?” the other male asked again.

Yoongi frowned. “Why would you want that anyway?” he countered sharply. “They wouldn’t be able to satisfy you.”

That piercing gaze narrowed. A heavy hand on his head, tilting it back.

It made his entire body shiver with delight.

“They could learn.”

“He doesn’t count.”

Pause.

Raised eyebrow.

Now who the fuck are you referring to, Min Yoongi? But he told his brain to shut up, shut up.

“Jungkook wouldn’t do this for you,” he breathed out, shuddering with need.

A penetrating gaze. “It’s not a competition, Yoongi.”

Yeah, it wasn’t.

“Different people are capable of different things.”

Oh, he knew. He could see it. He did see it. And he definitely didn’t mean for it to come out that way, because he didn’t hate watching their entangled bodies. The roughness. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. There was something wrong with him, surely. It wasn’t a competition but Yoongi did love the intense competitive surge he felt whenever he witnessed them together. It made him want to do more.

Be more.

Be his.

“Look at me.”

He didn’t want to look anywhere else.

“L... Let me serve you, Master.”

So calm it was beautiful. The hand on his head left, sending a tingle trickling down his spine as he adjusted the headband to complete the image. Appreciating it. He nodded. Reached down, silver rings flashing in the light, unbuttoning his slacks. It was only then that Yoongi noticed the subtle tent.

Two fingers beckoning him forward.

“Unzip me.”

Under the skirt, Yoongi squeezed his thighs together. Bit his lip and raised his tied hands. He had done this action enough times but this time felt different. Like he had to be better. More subservient. Maybe it was all in his head. He gripped the thin zipper pull, tugging it away from the body to avoid catching onto anything. The prickling of his skin intensified as he realized the other man wasn’t wearing underwear.

He darted his gaze up.

The devil’s smirk shrugged nonchalantly. “Why bother when we were clearly going to get naked anyway?”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Besides, there was an important task in front of him. He ran his fingers over the swelling length, the familiar velvety skin under his fingertips. Fuck, he had such a pretty cock. Due to his hands being bound together, he ended up bracing his palms along the underside and wrapping his fingers around the girth, inhaling sharply as he felt it twitch in his hands.

His own cock was mirroring, but Yoongi couldn’t touch it.

Yoongi looked up again.

His Master was disturbingly collected at being caressed like this. He kept his hands behind his back, not interfering. A regal stance. Must have also collected the hem of his dress shirt as well to hold it up and out of the way.

“Ah uh, no hands. That’s cheating. Back on your knees they go.”

He lingered a moment before obeying. Dancing along the fine line of punishment. Breathe in. Breathe out. The base of his palms touched his knees. It wasn’t that different from their normal sex, but the tension… It was impossible to explain. As if the possibilities that had suddenly expanded became a feeling, a thrill unmatched due to the lack of fear.

Yoongi opened his mouth.

Tongue sliding out.

Heat.

The strong taste made him moan, closing his lips around the hard length.

This? This he was good at. This was familiar hardness against his tongue, pushing it up to the roof of his mouth, sliding down deep to take it all. Slow, especially against the head, curling lips around it and rubbing slickness to velvet before choking himself again on the thick tip. Fuck, he could die like this. It was wrong on so many levels, the whole scene, and yet it was so right, opening his eyes to see himself being admired from above, the top few buttons of the brocade shirt undone to reveal those prominent collarbones and sterling silver guitar pick necklace. Heavy, weighted.

Always keeping a piece of me with him.

Those mauve lips curved upwards.

“Your mouth is the fucking best, Yoongi.”

One of those ringed hands lowered and skimmed across, following the top of those thighs that the slacks were still trapped around. There was something additionally arousing about still being in their clothes. Their roles still maintained. Yoongi felt something press against his lower lip.

Ah.

He tipped his head back and flicked his tongue over the other man’s balls, stimulating them each time he went down, heart beating fast as he saw the tension ripple out. It was a real effort to loosen enough to sweep his tongue out and then back to tightness around the head, but a challenge was a turn-on and Yoongi was no quitter, rising a bit on his knees to take in that cock deeper. Paid close attention to his throat muscles and his lip movement, keeping the pressure consistent and forceful, not giving up.

How could he?

Ugh, he was addicted to those low, soft moans. Addicted to the subtle twitch against his tongue, addicted to the hardness and the way that girth stretched out his throat, shivering, feeling pre-cum drip down his own thighs, but he couldn’t touch himself, no, not unless instructed. No hands. He slowed down a bit, wanting to make it last longer, tucking his tongue around each of those balls pressed against his lower lip and chin, strings of saliva dripping down his chin. Didn’t care. Yoongi knew the other man liked it. The cock in his mouth was so damn hard that his jaw ached. He kind of wanted it in his ass right now, but Yoongi was confident that he could get his Master hard again.

After all, his mouth was the best.

The man of excess would know.

He looked up again, intensifying the pace.

He watched those broad shoulders shudder, open-mouthed smirk watching him.

“Fuck, I love your eyes.”

Yoongi could say the same thing, but his mouth was currently full of dick.

He stopped teasing the balls and completely focused on the shaft. Molding it against tongue and lips, wet friction, slick and firm. No hands, so of course he had to be extra careful to use the force of his torso rather than his neck that needed to stay relaxed so he could swallow it all as deep as possible. Closing his eyes, basking in the attention, becoming the pleasure he wanted to give – tight, wet, deep – fast enough to not be ignored but steady enough to build up that inevitable orgasm, close, desperate for the taste, his fingers twisting into the hem of his skirt, whimpering in the back of his throat, craving it, the leather body harness under his clothes digging in to his rapidly rising and falling chest.

So close.

“Don’t choke, my darling,” that husky voice murmured above him.

Then he felt the sudden grasp of his head and the force of hips pushing down his throat. He sure as hell wasn’t going to choke at the rapidly expanding pocket of cum jammed down his throat but, um, hello, did Yoongi just hear that correctly? He was so startled that he griped the bottom of the pants, shivering as he swallowed, gripping tightly. Fire raced over his skin. His nerves singed, alight. Again with the ‘my darling’?! He was delusional. He was hearing shit he wanted to hear. Yeah, that was the only explanation. He kept his mouth closed, swallowing again, shuddering as he felt those hips roll, pushing in and out, remaining hard against his tongue.

Using him.

Yes, this was the safe space, being used.

“Stand up for me.”

Oh, shit.

He stumbled a little, wincing at the pins and needles, but strong hands helped him up. Pulled him closer. Yoongi looked away, busying himself with wiping his chin and straightening his outfit. His headband was somewhere on the floor. Welp. It was the cheapest part of the outfit. He let himself be dragged towards the bed, not saying anything. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Ah he was overthinking this, but how could he not? Was he supposed to act like a girl? A maid? Himself as a maid? Uh.

“H-Hey, what are you doing–?”

“Stand still.”

Yoongi suddenly found his legs sandwiched between two very strong thighs as his Master untied the velvet knot. Oh. He kept his silence as the knot was carefully deconstructed and undone, not making a sound at it was tossed aside. He liked watching those hands work. They were meticulous, treating him with care.

Then, those hands disappeared.

Yoongi raised his head.

Then froze as dark, dark eyes captured him along with ringed fingers closing in around his thighs.

“Uh.”

The sharp tone interrupted him.

“My title?”

Up his skirt. Fingertips traced the tops of the sheer, thigh-high stockings. Flicking the elastic, almost making him flinch as it snapped back into place. His hands had involuntarily found their way to those shoulders, gripping them for balance. He didn’t really want to say it so close. The other male waited patiently, squeezing the backs of his thighs but not going higher or more towards the center.

Yoongi swallowed.

The butterflies in his ribcage threatened to explode.

“Yes… Master?”

A devil’s smile.

“You know why I like skirts, Yoongi?”

“… No?”

They were sitting on the edge of the bed, until they weren’t. The other man scooted back a little and then Yoongi nearly yelped when he was grabbed by his bare ass and lifted. Thankfully, he was able to compose himself and not yell, even when the other male forced his knees in between Yoongi’s and made him straddle his lap. Yoongi’s knees now on the bed and he was fully clutching onto the taller male’s shoulders to avoid toppling over.

“Wait, I’m nak–”

“I can touch everything and you still look pretty,” his Master laughed, tickling warm breath against Yoongi’s neck. “Oh, looks like you had the same idea I did. Great minds think alike.”

This ass! “You can’t just violate–”

Yoongi stopped dead mid-sentence.

Those dark, dark eyes sparkled.

“I can’t what?”

But Yoongi couldn’t say anything because he already did.

He simply froze as those hands kneaded him, ring bands indenting his skin, gasping softly as he felt fingertips brush up against the straps along his legs. The bottom of the chest harness connected to straps around the tops of his thighs so it didn’t ride up. Well, it did, but only in the most delicious of ways. There was another strap around his waist and ones decorating around his chest and back, but for right now the leather below was all that was revealed. The issue was that Yoongi hadn’t really figured out if he was meant to wear underwear or not, because he didn’t want to have to take off the harness during sex and he didn’t want to wear boxer briefs over it. That would be fucking weird.

So, he just figured to go commando.

Of course, that also meant his cock had leaked pre-cum all over his inner thighs and the butt plug in his ass was now being played with since it was easily discovered.

“Ah… d-don’t…”

“Don’t?”

His Master clicked his tongue, disapproving and sensual all at once. He was tugging and pushing the flared base of the metal but plug in and out, creating a slow, maddening pace. Yoongi had picked a medium-sized one. Didn’t know how long he was going to have it in, but wanted to be prepared and all that.

“I do what I want with you, Yoongi. I am your Master, and you are my plaything.”

Fuck, he was so damn cocky but the pleasure was immense, breaking him down. Yoongi hadn’t even realized how the need to be touched had heightened and now the sudden devoted attention was making his jaw clench and his eyelids flutter, a gasping moan escaping him as warm fingers closed around his neglected cock, immediately becoming stiffer at the coaxing strokes.

“I… o-oh, fuck…”

Somehow his arms had slid around to the other man’s back and his head dipped down, forehead against shoulder, his hands splaying over the vest. The corset prevented him from bending over any further, but he couldn’t really see anything due to the skirt anyway. Probably for the best, because if Yoongi saw that hand covered in those rings, he would want to cover them with his cum immediately.

“Our clothes… f-fuck… You’re going to ruin our clothes,” he mumbled, biting back a moan as his cock was choked and the butt plug was fully shoved into his ass with deliberate force.

“You mean you’re going to ruin our clothes.”

Yoongi bit his lower lip and hissed behind his teeth, locking his arms around the other man and trying very hard not to orgasm as the persistent strokes started up again. There was no logic in holding himself back other than his own stubbornness and, of course, prompting his Master to edge him, which he did so happily. Too happily, first driving him so close that Yoongi buried his lips into the other man’s neck and almost screamed, only to be cut off with a firm squeeze to the head, causing his whole body to spasm with need, and then building the second orgasm by dropping his cock completely to toy with the butt plug instead. Holding his ass open with one hand, rings leaving indecent indents, and using his right hand to pull out the plug completely, circling the exposed, shivering hole with the tip, and then shoving it back in, creating a mortifying wet sucking sound that was a combination of lube and his tight ass.

Yoongi was determined not to embarrass himself with begging.

He deserved a reward for merely mewling for release, feeling his cock bob and smack his inner thighs, so close but not close enough.

“What’s that?”

Fuck, don’t make me say it.

Yoongi whimpered under his breath.

“P… Please…”

The response was sweet venom.

“Please what?”

He should have known. This sadist. Yoongi had half a mind to use his real name but he resisted and remained a good little maid.

“Please fuck me, Master.”

It was worth it.

He still had to be patient, of course. Honestly, Yoongi was beginning to enjoy being dragged along a little, held close by the waist as he was placed firmly on top of the other man on the bed. The apron was tossed aside. He held onto the other male’s shoulders as the hook-and-eyes were undone, not quite looking him in the face. Probably had something to do with how hot his cheeks felt right now. The corset was tugged out of the skirt. His blouse fell out with it, covering them in a curtain of white chiffon.

They undressed each other.

Usually, it was faster and with voracious greed. But this time, it was button by button. Dismantling his vest, chancing a moment to raise his gaze and see himself being observed. Not in a discerning way. No, more in a…

Dare he believe it?

Adored way.

I am so fucked.

“I enjoyed the packaging, but you look better naked, Yoongi.”

“… Shut up.”

He leaned down as the zipper of his skirt was undone, pressing his lips to exposed skin. He felt a racing heartbeat under his kiss, heard the soft sigh of contentment above him. There was only a single stray button holding the blouse together, but Yoongi didn’t let the other man access it, instead skimming his lips down that torso, inhaling the scent of cologne and warm skin. He took the skirt with him, untangling it from his legs and pushing it down the bottom edge of the bed. The stockings were loose too, so he got rid of them as well, tugging down the slacks in his descent. The other man got the hint and helped him out, shedding the rest of their lower clothes.

He closed his mouth around his Master’s cock.

“Yoongi… ah…”

He was soft but only for a moment. It was the perfect opportunity to loop his tongue around those balls as he worked that length to its hardest, running his tongue along the underside of the head, popping his lips softly at the ridge, kneading those thighs under his hands. Blowjobs on the bed were a different story. He had the most control here and the help of gravity, pushing all the way down into his throat until he couldn’t breathe and then, again, moaning as fingers tangled into his hair and locked his head in place, those hips rising into his mouth instead, fucking his throat slow and hard.

“That’s enough. Come up here and show me what’s hiding under your shirt.”

Heat rushed into his face. Shit. He tried to resist. Kept his lips locked around that hard cock, but a sharp pull of his hair sent a flare of pain that could not be ignored and he winced, gasping and clawing up the bed as he was decisively dragged up by his head. Saliva dripped down his chin, his mouth open, panting hard as he rose by force, his palms struggling to find footing in the sheets, meeting a cocked eyebrow and impassive expression.

Yoongi was above, but he felt below this dominant energy.

Fingertips touched his stomach.

The inhale caught in his throat.

Those dark, dark eyes did not look away.

No words exchanged. The touch traveled up. Up. Stopping at the leather straps, snapping each one against Yoongi’s skin. He whimpered, still held by his hair, shuddering. He could feel the onyx stones of some of those sterling silver rings. His blouse still held a single button, but it was rising with the forearm sliding up under it. And then.

The buttonhole was a little too big for the small mother-of-pearl button.

The shirt popped open.

For a moment, the darkness remained locked in gaze.

And then the man who called himself Dionysus at times looked down.

Yoongi shut his eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep down his neck. It wasn’t so much the leather harness itself but rather the obviousness of how fucking down bad he was. Fuck, I need to get a grip– but any more thoughts were gone in a snap, his eyes shooting open at the sharp pain, his shoulders flexing to tighten the tension of the leather. Looking down, watching and feeling a thumb rub into his hard nipple, and then, snap! Gasping as the strap smacked back against his skin, excitement pooling down his stomach as another long finger pulled back on another strap, taking it as far as it would go, and moaning as it hit him in the recoil of being let go.

Holy.

Fuck.

His back was arched so the straps along the front were all taut. His damn ass in the air and all. Fuck. The white blouse had slipped down his shoulders, his torso jerking at the inflicted pain, his hair falling into his face, sweat breaking out along his forehead, his inner muscles clenching around the butt plug.

Fuck it.

Yoongi couldn’t wait any longer.

He reached past the other male and grabbed the towel on the nightstand. Didn’t bother to ask. Threw aside his shirt and reached back, jaw tightening as he gripped the base of the anal plug. It was a little slippery from the lube but, as he always prepared beforehand, it was clean. He was almost lightheaded with hunger as he pulled it out, whimpering at the loss, rolling it into the towel and placing the bundle back onto the nightstand.

Leaving the black leather body harness on.

Naturally, Yoongi wanted to be fucked in it.

“Aw, I wanted to bend you over and make you lift your skirt to show me.”

“Next time,” Yoongi growled back, twitching at the thought. “What position?”

The devil’s smile returned.

“How else? Ride me.”

Yoongi felt the color drain from his face. This sadist really wants to hammer it home, huh. “F… Fine.”

He was already in position. There wasn’t far to move. He just had to position his hips and lift his hard cock to look down and see the other man gripping his girth with his right hand, slowly stroking himself, white pre-cum beading against the dark purple head.

The silver rings gleamed under him.

“Want a condom?”

He shook his head. “I prepped. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not. Asking for your comfort.”

Yoongi glanced up.

Fuck, he was so damn hot. The guitar pick necklace was bunched up, the pendant stuck in between his collarbones. Shirt and vest still clinging around his upper arms. Didn’t seem bothered by it. Yoongi swallowed, lowering himself.

“Not too slow,” that throaty voice hummed. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

Normally Yoongi would tell him to go fuck himself but presently he was too horny and too subservient to care, which was precisely why he held open his own ass, relaxed, and sank down. The other male held himself steady, exhaling deeply as he slid in. Still bigger than a plug, fuck, and Yoongi snapped his head back, gasping at the fullness, letting go of his own cock and gripping his thighs, trying to get used to the size. He figured he had enough experience with anal by now but, fuck, he was so damn hard and thick.

Fuck.

He was given a moment to adjust.

Then Yoongi felt a hand close around his leaking cock.

“W-What…?”

This sadist had the audacity to raise his free left hand and press his index finger to his full lips.

“Less talking. More moving.”

You…

Yoongi felt the stiff length twitch inside him and he groaned, rocking his hips into it. Their clothes on the floor. The skirt. The stockings. The apron. The blouse. The pleasure mounting with him, filling himself again and again, using gravity and lust to his advantage, tightening his core to make the pleasure radiate. Gripping the sheets next to his calves, feeling the leather straps cut into his chest, his nipples getting hard at the pain, watching himself get jacked off with that hand covered in silver rings, inescapable ecstasy radiating up his spine.

“I… I’m going to… cum all over your stomach…” Yoongi gasped, whining as he hit his favorite spot, fuck, so deep and so full, relishing in being used like a plaything for pleasure while being pushed to his own limit.

His boyfriend grinned like the devil.

“Mhm, that’s the goal.”

It was an obscene scene.

In retrospect, Yoongi couldn’t outline all the details of it. He was too far gone, too turned on and too many sensations deep to remember how long it lasted. Tipping his head back, thrusting that cock deep into his ass, moaning as he felt the strap at his waist being caught, pulled, digging the straps into his back instead of his chest, feeling the tightness around his upper thighs, violent pleasure building between his spread-open legs, his cock throbbing in a punishing grip, closer, gasping.

Closer.

“F-Fuck!”

He tucked his chin down in dismay, groaning while he watched his hips flinch and felt his cock pulse, dripping out a stream of white across the other man’s lower belly. The hand stopped but his climax didn’t, searing him with blinding pleasure as more cum shot out and smeared everywhere, staining the air with the scent of semen. Yoongi gasped, reeling, and then whined. Two hands clasped around his hips and the other male thrust up into him, hard, again, again, sending Yoongi’s eyes rolling back at the roughness, pitching forward and catching himself with his palms, losing himself to the fucking from below, trying to assist, but the orgasm was too fresh and his body was still limp, forcing him to merely hold on and take it, again, again, deep, hard, used like a plaything.

My darling.

Yoongi moaned as he felt the jerking cock spill into him, pumping him full of cum.

The forbidden name escaped his lips, pleading.

Yoongi could never explain how the other male had the strength. Maybe it was some kind of freakish adrenaline. One moment he was on top, still disoriented from the brutality, the next, he was on his back, his own cum sticking to his lower stomach and crotch, arms and hands around his back and ass to hold him in place when he was lifted. The fuck? And the cock was still inside his ass by some miracle.

Wait.

He…

His Master was still hard.

Yoongi gasped, feeling the cum inside him squish as the other male clenched his jaw and slid back in, slow and deliberate. Pleasuring himself. Instinctively, Yoongi pressed his thighs to the other male’s sides, surprised to feel the brocade shirt was somehow still on. In fact, there was sweat sliding down that chest, which almost never happened. He was usually never hot.

Well, also, Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time he had been creampied and continuously fucked.

He wasn’t complaining though.

He couldn’t say anything at all, desperately panting, the pleasure too much to worry about silly things like breathing, grabbing onto the shirt collar and thrusting up to meet those hips. Both of them moaned in unison, cum sticking between them, lost in lust, forgetting responsibilities and fucking instead, so close, so full, the squishing, slapping sound getting louder and louder.

A low growl.

“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.”

His words jumbled together and barely made any sense.

“Fuck, yes, in me, fuck, cum in me.”

The hips smacked together.

The rising lust burst, pumping him full of cum again, his eyes cracking open to witness. Lashes lowered, mauve lips parted, the tip of pink tongue over white teeth, carnal satisfaction melting over his features. Weighted exhale drifting out. Warmth spreading over Yoongi’s arms.

Yoongi gripped onto the shirt collar, staring up at him.

There’s no one else for me.

Those dark, dark orbs shifted and looked down at him.

“Happy?” the husky voice panted, smirking slightly.

He had a witty response prepared but he promptly forgot it. “Yeah. That was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

The smirk widened, pleased. “You’ve said that before.”

“It’s true every time. You get better.”

A wink. “Helps when you’ve got a tight virgin ass.”

Yoongi felt his eyebrow twitch. He regretted being honest. “Shut up. Get off me.”

“Um, you seem to forget I pumped your ass full of cum.”

“Sounds like your problem.”

“This is our home, remember, which makes it our problem.”

Yes, it was, but Min Yoongi took a leaf out of Jeon Jungkook’s book and remained a brat. His boyfriend liked that shit, as evidenced by the bickering, and the later not-so-punishing punishment of being bent over in the shower to get his ass fucked again because he was being freaking annoying. Ah, love.

What?

Yoongi didn’t just think that. Nope.

--

masterpost

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

Over my head (Miguel ‘o’ Hara x Reader)

Pairing: Miguel x f reader

Summary: y/n is a kind hearted nurse who’s life gets turned upside down as she get fired from one the most prestigious hospitals in NYC , desperate , she start filing job applications wherever. Coincidentally a stressed Miguel is looking for a nurse due to a big amount of spider people getting injured due to the surprisingly large amount of anomalies happening in the spider verse. What could go wrong is these two meet?

Themes: ✎slow burn ( I think)

Mutual pining

✎office romance (¿)

Hidden romance

✎Smut available as story progresses.

Dom Miguel x sub/bratty reader

✎Stubborn, Ill tempered Miguel.

✎ Angelic reader .

It girl reader.

✎I try to be as accurate as possible.

English is not my first language so bare with me.

✎badass stoic x sweet empath.

Og spanish speaker so be prepared for steamy dialogue :3

See master list for previous or future chapters

Chapter 1: pilot.

Everything was going great , really it was , you finally managed to become independent and move out, managed to get an amazing job with your hard worked degree, and lastly you were earning enough to get by and pay your student loans.

Until one fateful night you clocked in for your shift as a critical care nurse with your cute violet scrubs , one thing your coworkers really admired about you was your honest heart and true willingness to take care of those whose been injured tragically in a blink of an eye. You took your job very seriously and really put your soul into every stitch and intubation. So was the case when a powerful politician from your city arrive after a failed assassination attempt, you and your team managed to stabilize him and all procedures in the ICU went well.

In terms of post care you medicated him according to doctors order, you didn't go a gram over his pain medication and he seemed to be recovering quickly and well. Things started to go side ways when you had to leave work early since a friend of yours, Gigi got blackout drunk after a break up in a sketchy part of town. Not being able to handle the thought of all the things that could happen to her ;you left your patient to a newbie , trusting him to take good care of your patient (big mistake).

After leaving Gigi in her home , you called to get the rest of your day off so you could enjoy a well deserved break and catch up on some series you've left behind .The next morning you arrived to the hospital and quickly noticed your coworkers heads turning in your directos  staring at you with a wide gaze. You thought nothing of it and went to check on your patient room to see how all went last night. As soon as you entered the room you saw some iv drips on the floor , pillows and a mattress thrown to oblivion and most importantly your patient going bat shit crazy assaulting the newbie you left him in charge of , in the meanwhile some other nurses try to get him off the poor guy who was just trying to do you a favor.

Next thing you know you're rushing to the locked medicine room to later show your ID to enter the room so you can  quickly insert the tranquilizer in a  syringe to have ready . After locking up the place  you sprint back to room number #13 hoping no one is gravely injured, soon you open the door to then tip toe on ceramic tiles as you attempt to knock out the source of all the chaos.

To your bad luck the newbies eyes looking at the politicians back betrays you and in the blink of an eye you're the one that's being chocked on.

-“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM! GIVE ME SOME MORE OF THAT GOOD SHIT AND ILL BE ON MY FUCKING WAY.ITS NOT THAT BLOODY HARD.”- After the patient yelled this out everything clicked in your mind , the newbie nurse must have given him a heavy dose leaving him now in some sort of withdrawal.  But for the moment all you have to think about is how to get out of this alive , the pressure on your neck starts to make your vision hazy before you black out you throw the syringe to a nurse nearby and the next thing you see is black.

A few minutes later you flutter your eyes open and find yourself in a separate room with the newbie nurse standing by your side.

-“Y/n , how are you? I'm so sorry for how thing turned out, turns out the patient had prior history of substance abuse that wasn't on the chart and he somehow convinced me he was in indescribable pain so I switched up the medicine to dia morphine.- Said the ditzy nurse as he looked at the ground with shame.”

-“You did what?!”- You yelled out sitting straight.

・゜゜・．

Meanwhile in spider society headquarters things seemed to be going rough...

Lately there's been far to many anomalies, taking more spider men than normal to complete missions while also getting more injured than never.

Some spider man were returning so beat up that they couldn't return to their own universe , leaving some altruistic spider people to patch up their injuries to the best of their abilities and bring them home.

-“Miguel , we need to get some sort of medical assistance up in here. You can't keep asking Lyla to guess is someone is in a comma or just concussed. God forbid I start pushing out this baby due to the stress I'm suffering.”- Stated Jessica drew while walking back and forth in Miguel's office.

-“They're spider people they have to get used to a scratch or too.”- mumbled Miguel while looking through his screens for any new anomalies.

-“Miguel i know it's tough to find someone to confide in but please , you're the leader of this organization for a reason , think of their families and partners they'll start to worry , they shouldn't get used to their  loved one coming home with a lip busted open just cause their boss doesn't want to Pay for their health care.”

Spiderman 2099 proceeds to squeeze his eyes with force refusing to accept that all the recent events and getting out of his hands while squeezing the bridge of his nose but with a final exhale he decided to do what's right.

-“Don't worry about it , I'll get to it as soon as possible.”- he replied trying to give Jessica some reassurance

・゜゜・．

-“I assume you know why you’re here y/n.”- Said the hospitals director, in her office as you sat down in front of her , unable to lift your face following the series of catastrophic events.-“I think you and I both know you've made a mistake , but you and I both know you've contributed a lot to this hospital”- said the blond haired director as she stood up started walking around the room.-“What happened yesterday was partially your fault but mainly not , my dear friend ,your patient;  has a little addiction that's harmful to nobody. The newbie giving him dia morphine was the next step for him to level up his addiction. He's tried some other shit before but nothing as good as the pain killer administered to him the day of the events. So taking all things Into consideration i leave you two options

Voluntary resignation or...”- as the words exited the directors mouth you felt your whole world fall to the ground everything you worked for poof , gone in a blink of an eye.- “Or continuing administering dia morphine and other requested pain killers to my friend safely while creating fake patient charts to justify the use of  said drugs to the board of directors.”

இ

After signing in your resignation you cried all the way home on the subway not caring who was watching, how did your life turn out like this? You couldn't blame Gigi, she didn't know all of this was gonna happen.

As soon as you arrived to your apartment you took out a bucket of stratichella ice cream and started applying for jobs right away online.

After almost a week with no luck you started to get desperate. The last job offer that was left was one where you checked all the requirements the down side is they were looking for a male nurse. But as you re read the requirements to decided sure they would change their minds as soon as as they saw your qualifications.

Requirements.

-Registered nurse.

-3+ Years of experience.

-Certified specialist in critical care.

- Motivated and hard working.

-Skillful and diligent.

-Time availability.

-Works well under pressure.

-Age: 23- 30 years old.

-Good physical and mental health.

-No criminal history.

-male

Company: Spid-so.co

Employer: Michael 'o' hare.

Email for inquiries: Lylalovesbunnie999@spidso.com

[cosmicangst]

Hello! Do you have any favorite romance novels to recommend that are not YA? Thanks!

OH THE PANDORAS BOX YOUVE OPENED ANON ehem a not so exhaustive list

historical romance (this is my main genre so there's more books here)

bringing down the duke and a rogue of one's own by evie dunmore - part of a series but both can be read as stand-alones. victorian period ft suffragettes. the second one in particular is my absolute favorite. it's very Gender with an insouciant dandy and an ambitious activist leader, both lonely and stubborn.

the brothers sinister series (especially the countess conspiracy) and the turner trilogy by courtney milan - will admit i read these books a bit ago so i don't remember much of the details only to say that courtney is a brilliant romance writer so i automatically trust her any time i read her books. she makes the unromantic very romantic in a very grounded way. for example in one of the brothers sinister books, the couple has sex for the first time and it turns out to be understandably mediocre. but this becomes a starting off point that actually brings them closer together. i just love the touch of realism and imperfection she brings in a genre that's built off of heightened emotions and almost fantastical perfection in relationships.

the devil comes courting by courtney milan - separate rec because this is part of another series which i haven't fully read yet. but i just had to add this because i find it remarkably unique among the genre. the events span years (rather than the shortened time frame of most romance novels) and a large part of the courtship is epistolary. it's also interracial and does not feature a white person! (heroine is chinese and hero is black.) one of those hr books that is equally historical fiction as it is romance and explores a period that i think hasn't been touched upon as much yet.

a week to be wicked by tessa dare - the best romcom-y hr ive read! it's a zany road trip with a romance that happens so gradually it really does sneak up on you which is the best kind.

the belle of belgrave square by mimi matthews - marriage of convenience. read this recently and every plot beat was absolutely perfect. the reveals, the commitment between them, everything just made sense. nothing was extraneous.

convergence of desire by felicity niven - also marriage of convenience. I LOVE THIS HEROINE. she's on the spectrum and he has a toxic relationship to sex. he is absolutely not attracted to her in the beginning but the honesty she gives to him while she pursues her own ambitions has him absolutely at her feet by the end.

my deceitful duchess by aydra richards - nerdy virgin ass hero which is a breath of fresh air from all these alpha males. has one of the best grovels over a misunderstanding that absolutely makes sense and isn't contrived 👌👌👌

when beauty tamed the beast by eloisa james - read this a long time ago but this is the first romance book i read so i have a lot of fondness over it. a kind-of retelling of beauty and the beast. top notch banter.

suddenly you by lisa kleypas - older heroine and younger hero! virgin spinster and novelist starts a fwb relationship with her publisher. a bit dated but still a fun read.

devil in winter by lisa kleypas - oh very dated but a classic amongst the romance community. marriage of convenience. the hero sebastian is both loved and reviled (and rightfully so i think) by his readers but i just have so much fondness for evie and the way she absolutely does not give a shit about how intimidating he is.

a rogue by any other name by sarah maclean - childhood friends reunite years later. read this a loooong time ago and i don't remember much except he does the absolute most to push her away because of Revenge reasons and the fallout from that is delicious

a lady's guide to fortune hunting by sophie irwin - MY CURRENT LOVE. enemies to lovers with my favorite heroine. she is cunning and scheming and absolutely shameless without being a complete asshole. the hero is also equally savvy enough to match her wit and catch onto her grift. the interplay between them of trying to outscheme the other is hilarious and delightful.

contemporary:

georgie, all along by kate clayborn - sweet, slow romance where the drama happens around the couple rather than between them except for the very end and even that is handled pretty maturely. not a big fan of third act breakups in general unless it's for a very good reason so this one sidesteps that by not prolonging it.

against a wall by cate c. wells - small town enemies to lovers. one of those read with your pussy books. hero is kind of a dumb brick but he knows it and owns it and i admire him for it. heroine is the town pariah and spoilers he literally fights the whole town for her sake. get you a man!

the kiss quotient and the bride test by helen hoang - both feature leads on the spectrum. i've seen criticism regarding how she handles neurodivergent characters but reading her author's note, i can tell she definitely pulls a lot from her own experiences being on the spectrum herself so i don't really understand the crit tbh. kind of veers to melodrama a little at the very end but i eat that shit up

the hating game by sally thorne - overexposed now in the rec circles but still a mainstay for a reason. enemies to lovers workplace romance with two leads that are kind of deranged which i love. great prose, great banter.

the billionaire's wake-up call girl by annika martin - billionaires have no rights but just suspend your head for a sec. they could have made him a millionaire and functionally nothing would've changed. anyway also a yummy enemies to lovers with a case of mistaken identity.

well met by jen deluca - kind of like georgie, all along in that the heart of it is just two very normal people falling in love in a very normal way that feels true to life. setting is a renaissance fair which is delightful.

kiss an angel by susan elizabeth phillips - dated as all hell and has some troubling parts with a batshit premise. but the last several chapters honestly make the book and i reread it from time to time so im obligated to include it on this list.

bass-ackwards by eris adderly - okay TW on workplace harassment BUT JUST READ PAST CHAPTER TWO I PROMISE. if it's still not your cup of tea totally understand but anyway... er, workplace romance.

people we meet on vacation by emily henry - ive described this book before as when harry meets sally if harry and sally were making a travelogue. the best friends to lovers pining is actually painful.

other/kinda out there:

radiance by grace draven - arranged marriage interspecies romance! i love this one because both of them thinks the other is actually very ugly so they fall in love purely through their friendship.

transcendence by shay savage - OK LMAO hear me out: caveman and a modern human sent back in time due to shenanigans all from the caveman's pov. the premise is batshit and it's obvious which fandom this was originally a fanfic for if you think about it for more than a second but this author makes it work???? have no fucking clue how she did it but by god she absolutely did

last light by claire kent - apocalypse romance. kind of road trip with survival elements. again i just love unlikely romances where the couple isn't that attracted to each other from the start and having that gradually change through time in a way thats not signposting to the audience.

ghost walk by cassandra gannon - funniest shit ever. ghost who died in the revolutionary era meets a psychic who works as a walking tour guide and recovering from a nervous breakdown. absolutely ridiculous and over the top. insta love which i normally dont like but this was so campy and fun i didn't even care

all cishet but you can find my queer recs here

[someinstant]

Things Teaching Public High School in the US for More Than a Decade Has Taught Me:

Everyone thinks teachers spend all their money on, like, markers and shit. And maybe that's true in elementary school, but do you know what I spend an absurd amount of money on? Plug-in air fresheners, because thirty sophomores crammed in a room with the heat blasting after half of them have PE is rough. Endless bottles of hand sanitizer. Tissues. SO MANY TISSUES. And at least one electric pencil sharpener a year because they keep breaking mine. And also those black metal binder clips. Those are fucking gold.

The $300 federal tax deduction for classroom supplies is hilarious and infuriating, and I will never not take it because fuck you why am I the one buying the pencil sharpener?!

You will have the wake-up-late-for-a-math-exam nightmare for your whole life. But also, if you're a teacher, you get anxiety dreams where your department head tells you you're teaching AP Chem and Spanish IV next semester in addition to your normal courses, and Dream!You will be absolutely terrified-- not because you have to teach courses outside of your area of certification, but because you're going to have a minimum of three preps with one planning period.

To-do lists will save your life and (some part of) your sanity when you are trying to keep track of IEPs and 504s and HHB meetings and also figuring out when the three clubs you sponsor can meet and also AP study sessions and test make ups and also you're in charge of your subject area's collab group and also somehow two faculty committees that you're pretty sure you never volunteered for, they just happened, and there's the faculty meeting next Tuesday and also Open House and you need to call three parents about student grades, and also it will take you about five years to realize this because you're dumb and young and think you will just magically be able to remember what needs to happen when. No you won't, you dipshit. Get a planner, get a calendar, get a Post-It note or seven, and write that shit down.

Teenagers are hilarious. They're amazing. They're terrible, but also going through this insane transformative experience and you have a fucking front row seat to cheer them on as they steadily become less and less terrible and finally find out they're just-- fantastic. On bad days, they're the best part of the gig.

Everyone cries in their car in October at least once. It's normal teacher behavior, especially in the first few years. It's not good, but it's what happens when you have a month with no days off and everything starts to come due in terms of IEPs and grades and also it's ALWAYS Homecoming, which means there's the pep rally bullshit and Spirit Week and also the dance-- which you might have to chaperone god help you-- and for some reason the College Board also has dictated that this is PSAT season? So we all lose an instructional day to that, and-- yes. Everyone cries in their car in October. You're not weird. You're just very, very tired.

Amazingly, if you explain to students what you're doing and why you're doing it, they will generally be more engaged and focused and get more out of what you're doing. This goes for an activity, a full lesson, a unit of study, and the course as a whole. Show them what you're trying to build up front. Show them how you're putting things together. And if the thing you are doing doesn't directly connect to the long- and short-term goals of the course, redesign what you're doing. Students know when work is bullshit, and so do you.

Some of your students won't like you, sometimes. It's okay. Doesn't mean you've got to be a dick about it. Do your job and teach them anyway.

You will absolutely have some colleagues whose possession of a teaching license will befuddle you. If you have your shit together, they're likely to tug at your sleeve and constantly ask for material or help or whatnot, and it is going to be ENORMOUSLY annoying, because jesus, Susan, you're twenty years older than I am, how do you not know how to teach the Scientific Revolution by now? You might become the Tech Help Desk. You might have to show your colleagues how to use the digital testing program EVERY DAMN UNIT for THREE FUCKING YEARS because somehow they always forget and come running to your classroom while you're in the middle of teaching second period because they forgot how to publish to the assessment platform yet again. (Obviously not a personal example from this week or anything.) Here is the thing to remember about this: these annoying colleagues teach kids. And those kids do not deserve to get a shitty education because their teacher is Professor How Do I Use PowerPoint. Help your colleagues. It's okay--and good-- to draw boundaries so you don't murder them, but share your shit. Forward that fucking email to them for the seventeenth time, because it won't be you or they who ultimately suffer-- it'll be the kid in the back corner of the classroom who doesn't ever effectively learn about chattel slavery and exploitative labor and colonialism.

Let your students see you love what you're doing. Let them see you geek out over Olmec subtractive sculpture or physics or economic systems or that creepy Faulkner story about the lady who murdered her lover and then slept next to his corpse for the rest of her life. Let your students see that you love them. Tell them you're proud of them, and mean it. Some of them don't hear that enough. Care enough to be disappointed when your kiddos make bad choices (because some will and it will break your heart), care enough to be angry as hell about the puritanical debates over what books are allowed in your school library, care enough to let that kid talk your ear off about League of Legends or some anime thing you don't watch-- and care enough to look at your endless to-do list and say, "I can address the rest of this tomorrow. I'm going home to rest, now," because you can't do anything else if you've not done that.