#kids are supposed to be ungrateful

[destielsmixtape]

"are you under the impression that family is supposed to make you feel good? [...] they're supposed to make you feel miserable that's why they're family!"

—bobby singer, season 4 episode 22

[uchiha-gaeshi]

I would never wish growing up in a hyper religious African house on my worst enemy. The cognitive dissonance is insane especially if you grow up in the West yet your family (and other African families around you) insist on clinging on to asinine “traditions” that are really just covers for abuse.

[eddie-rifff]

lol. im gonna be ruminating about my interaction w bill bruford in the hotel for the rest of my life. he was clearly like not expecting a fan to approach him then and there but he was also trying to be cordial and normal despite me probably looking like i had just witnessed a tragic event or something. we exchanged a few words n then he was like "ya so we're heading up to manhattan now" just like making small talk and i was so intimidated and starstruck i dont even remember what i said LOL i think it was pretty normal but i wanted to ask him something (if the weird modulated voice on back to the beginning is him tho im pretty sure it is but id like confirmation) and get a pic but. i was unable to do so on account of the being absolutely petrified. anyway props to bill for trying to be normal to me when i was probably visibly trembling

[mutalune]

really wish there was a tag that separated “I’m having Big Angry and/or Angsty Opinions about Star Wars” from “I’m goofing off with Star Wars I’m playing in the sandbox none of this is real so yes I will make my blorbo and this random glub shitto go on an adventure that makes no logical sense” posts because there’s too much of the former and not enough of the latter for my current mental state

[womb-complex]

I just realized that it might be pretty sad that I was never taught how to clean blood from my sheets and clothes during my period so I had to figure it out myself and my parents are kind of mean about it

[mai-library]

After 3 hours of driving we realized that we were lost, yet Brian still refused to admit this fact to himself and everyone else in the car. The thing is, we had known it was a terrible idea to allow him behind the wheel as he refused to follow directions provided, but he was the only one who had remembered to renew his license, so really, he was the only option. Except he was obviously a terrible option in hindsight and we all came this realization as we drove past a group of houses that was nowhere near the university where Kara was graduating from. Yet, no one in the vehicle spoke up to correct Brian on the path he was taking, maybe because we knew he wouldn’t listen, or maybe because we simply didn’t want the drive to end. Not even Kara spoke up from the passenger seat, and she was most likely going to miss her graduation ceremony.

I understood where they were coming from in all honesty. If I could get this drive to last into eternity I would. I would bask in the windows being down and the music blasting through the speakers as we shuffled through Cassie’s carefully curated playlist, becasue by the end of the week, we would no longer have any of this. We would all be gone to different countries where car rides to celebrate each other’s achievements would no longer exist. A deep ache swells within my chest as I stare out the window, not wanting to look at people I will no longer know for as long as I wanted to. 

As I begin opening my mouth to beg Brian to keep driving and never stop, to allow the car to run out of gas, my surroundings become familiar. The library that is a block away from the university comes into view and my heart sinks. One step closer to becoming strangers again, and yet I can say nothing to request Brian to make a U-turn in the middle of the street and get us far away from an ending. Brian pulls into the university parking and Kara swiftly exits the vehicle and makes her way to sign in, not once looking back at the three of us still strapped into the car. And maybe that says more about the end of our era than this ceremony ever will.

[sonarspace]

❝ TOUCH ME, TAKE ME, KISS ME ❞

ft. gojo, geto & shoko. (4some)

꒰ synopsis. where celebrating new year’s with your best friends turns into something much more intimate—one kiss at midnight isn’t nearly enough.

warnings. MDNI. college au. fem! reader, fōursome, mutual pining, unprotected p in v, orāl (f! and m! receiving), fingerıng (f! and m! receiving), clıt stimulation, overstimulation, dirty talk, shared partner dynamics, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes, hair pulling, teasing, praise kink, body worship, light biting/marking, cųm play, & multiple orgasmś.

the cabin was exactly what you’d expect from satoru gojo – unnecessarily luxurious, tucked away on the outskirts of a snowy mountain town, and equipped with every amenity that screamed rich kid with too much money to burn.

“seriously, satoru, who the hell needs a jacuzzi in their living room?” shoko teased, setting her duffel down by the entryway. the bubbling water glowed from the built-in lights, steam curling lazily into the warm space.

gojo smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “it’s about the vibes, shoko. the experience. and, i dunno, maybe i just like having options.”

geto, sitting cross-legged on the couch, glanced up from his phone. “yeah? and when’s the last time you used it?”

“hey, i brought you guys here, didn’t i? sounds like ungrateful energy to me,” gojo shot back, though his grin didn’t waver.

you chuckled softly, toeing off your boots near the fireplace, letting the heat seep through your socks. the large windows stretched across the far wall, showcasing the snow falling steadily outside, blanketing the trees under the silver moonlight.

“he’s right, though,” you chimed in, peeling off your jacket. “we could’ve rung in the new year at some regular house party. but instead, we’re here. cozy, secluded... not the worst way to spend our last new year as college students.”

“see? someone gets it,” gojo said, flashing you that familiar, lopsided grin.

you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t mind. the four of you had been close since your freshman year, and as the years piled up, so did the late-night study sessions, spontaneous road trips, and drunken confessions after long nights out. this felt like a full-circle moment. one final hurrah before graduation came sweeping in to change everything.

shoko tossed herself onto the couch beside geto, tugging off her beanie and shaking out her hair. “so, what’s the plan? drinking games until midnight, or are we just free-styling it?”

“why not both?” suguru said, stretching an arm behind her, fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder where you leaned against the armrest. the contact was subtle, but you felt it linger.

gojo raised a brow, tilting his head dramatically. “i was thinking strip poker.”

shoko snorted, flicking his forehead. “sure. you’d be naked in five minutes.”

“is that supposed to be a problem?”

your eyes flickered to suguru, catching the small smirk pulling at his lips. his gaze met yours for half a second, dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, before dropping back to his phone.

this wasn’t the first time you’d caught the lingering tension between everyone – the casual touches, the way shoko’s gaze would sometimes linger on you a little too long, or the moments gojo’s hands would rest on your lower back at parties, guiding you through crowds when he didn’t really need to.

you weren’t oblivious. but none of you had ever crossed that line.

yet.

“alright, let’s start with drinks,” you suggested, pushing yourself to your feet. “anyone want to help me?”

“i got it,” geto said, standing with an easy grace. “come on.”

as the two of you headed into the kitchen, shoko and gojo’s quiet laughter echoed softly from the living room, the crackling fire filling the otherwise silent cabin.

suguru leaned against the counter, watching as you rummaged through the cabinets.

“so,” he started, his voice low and smooth, “how are you feeling about tonight?”

you glanced over your shoulder. “in general? or is this a ‘we’re about to graduate, what are you doing with your life?’ kind of question?”

his lips quirked. “both, maybe.”

you sighed, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “i’m trying not to think about it too hard. tonight’s about celebrating, not panicking about the future.”

he nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes lingered.

“you know,” he mused, stepping closer, “satoru’s not wrong. it is kind of a waste to let this cabin go to waste.”

“what are you suggesting?” you teased, pouring the whiskey into a glass.

suguru’s gaze dipped, trailing over you slowly before flicking back to your eyes. “just saying… midnight’s a good time for new experiences.”

heat prickled your skin under his stare, but before you could respond, gojo’s voice rang out from the other room.

“hey, you two! quit flirting and bring the damn drinks!”

you laughed, but suguru didn’t move right away. instead, his fingers brushed lightly against your wrist as he grabbed the bottle from the counter, his touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.

yeah. tonight was going to be interesting.

the drinks flowed easily, laughter spilling into the warm cabin air as the four of you huddled near the fireplace, sprawled across the plush rugs and oversized pillows. suguru sat beside you, his knee brushing yours with every shift, while gojo leaned against the couch, one long arm lazily slung around shoko’s shoulders.

“alright,” gojo drawled, tipping back his glass. his eyes glittered behind those obnoxious shades he insisted on wearing inside. “time for a game.”

“drinking game?” shoko asked, already halfway through her second glass of whiskey.

“nope.” gojo’s smirk curled wickedly. “truth or dare.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “what are we? sixteen?”

“don’t knock it,” suguru said smoothly, his eyes half-lidded as he sipped his drink. “it could be fun. besides, satoru’s incapable of suggesting anything mature.”

gojo shot him a look. “this coming from the guy who suggested skinny dipping in the hot tub an hour ago.”

“that was different. it was an intellectual suggestion.”

“sure it was.”

shoko waved a hand dismissively. “fine. truth or dare it is. but no stupid shit like licking the floor or whatever. we’re not in a frat house.”

gojo grinned, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “who’s starting?”

your hand shot up, aiming for the path of least resistance. “truth.”

“boring,” gojo muttered, but there was mischief behind the slight pout. “alright, fine. if you had to kiss one of us at midnight, who would it be?”

the room fell quiet for a beat too long. you felt three sets of eyes zero in on you, the weight of their attention thick enough to taste.

“uh—” you faltered, heat crawling up your neck.

“careful,” suguru murmured beside you, voice low and teasing. “we’ll know if you’re lying.”

your gaze flicked to his, catching the flicker of something darker in his expression. your heart thudded a little harder.

“i dunno,” you hedged, taking a slow sip of your drink. “depends on the mood, i guess.”

gojo leaned closer, grinning like he’d already won. “that’s not an answer.”

“then take it as my answer.”

shoko laughed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “she’s playing it safe. smart girl.”

but the tension lingered, subtle but persistent, weaving through the air like smoke.

“my turn,” suguru cut in smoothly, tilting his head toward gojo. “truth or dare?”

“dare, obviously.”

“kiss shoko.”

“easy.”

without hesitation, gojo leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to shoko’s lips. she didn’t pull away – if anything, her hand slid lazily up his arm, nails grazing lightly against his skin before they parted.

“you guys have done that before,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the heat twisting low in your stomach.

“multiple times,” shoko replied, smirking. “you’re late to the party.”

gojo winked. “jealous?”

“not particularly.”

but the idea lodged itself somewhere deep. maybe it was the alcohol warming your veins, or the way suguru’s hand rested against the small of your back, light but possessive, but the thought lingered.

midnight wasn’t that far off.

the countdown started around 11:50. the drinks were mostly forgotten by then, the four of you curled closer near the fire, the alcohol buzzing quietly in your heads.

“five minutes,” gojo announced, his voice dropping to something smoother, almost suggestive. “better start thinking about that kiss.”

shoko stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “maybe we should just kiss each other. take the guesswork out of it.”

your stomach flipped at her casual tone, but when you glanced at suguru, his gaze was already fixed on you.

“not opposed,” he said softly.

gojo made a low hum of approval, sitting up straighter. “why not?”

“you’re all serious about this?” you asked, voice tipping toward incredulous, but your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs.

“you’re curious,” suguru countered, brushing his knuckles against your thigh.

and you were. the tension had been building for years – subtle glances, fleeting touches, unspoken things hanging just out of reach.

“alright,” you relented, the words tasting like adrenaline on your tongue. “fine.”

the countdown echoed on the tv screen, bright against the dim cabin.

ten.

nine.

suguru shifted closer, his thigh pressed against yours.

eight.

seven.

gojo’s gaze dropped to your lips, his grin softer, teasing.

six.

shoko leaned into your side, her arm brushing yours.

five.

four.

your breath hitched as suguru’s hand curled under your chin, tilting your face toward his.

three.

two.

one.

their lips met yours at the same time – suguru’s mouth warm and steady, while shoko’s was softer, tasting faintly of whiskey.

you lost yourself in it, your hand fisting in suguru’s shirt as gojo’s hand brushed against your lower back, slipping lower, pulling you closer.

and just like that, the line dissolved completely.

the kiss started playful—soft touches, slow exploration—but the heat behind it caught quickly, sparking into something heavier. suguru’s fingers brushed your jaw, coaxing your lips open as his tongue slid against yours, slow and possessive. shoko’s mouth trailed along your neck, leaving wet kisses against your pulse, while gojo’s hand slipped under the hem of your sweater, his palm warm as it splayed across your waist.

you broke the kiss with suguru only to meet shoko’s lips, her tongue teasing against yours as she pressed closer, her hands slipping down to rest on your thighs. the space between the four of you seemed to vanish, replaced by the weight of wandering hands and shared breaths.

gojo groaned softly, nipping at suguru’s bottom lip before tugging him back by the collar, stealing a kiss that left no room for subtlety. suguru didn’t resist, his hand tangling in gojo’s hair, tilting his head to deepen it. the sight had your breath catching, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“god, you two,” shoko muttered, smirking against your lips. “it’s like watching a porno.”

“jealous?” gojo quipped, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes glittering with amusement.

“maybe.”

“you get her,” suguru said smoothly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “we’ll be back.”

before you could question it, gojo grabbed suguru’s wrist and led him out of the living room, disappearing into the hall with low, breathy laughter echoing behind them.

the absence of their presence left you and shoko tangled together on the rug by the fire, the crackling flames casting soft shadows across her face.

“guess it’s just us,” she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns over your thighs.

“seems like it,” you whispered, barely able to focus with the heat of her body pressed so close.

shoko didn’t waste time once the boys left the room. her lips crashed into yours, all tongue and teeth, as if she’d been holding back for too long. you could feel the heat radiating off her as her hands roamed your body, tugging at the edges of your sweater until it slipped over your head.

her palms were warm against your bare skin, fingertips skimming the soft curve of your breasts, and you gasped into her mouth, arching into her touch.

“fuck,” she whispered, eyes trailing down your body, drinking you in like she couldn’t get enough. “been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”

you let her take control, her nails scraping lightly down your back as she kissed a path to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin.

your sweater, jeans, and everything else ended up in a pile near the fireplace, leaving you bare and vulnerable in the soft flicker of firelight. shoko settled between your legs, her hands pressing your thighs apart with a confidence that had you squirming beneath her.

“you’re so wet already,” she murmured, dragging a single finger through your folds. “you like this, huh?”

you could barely nod, the sensation making you dizzy.

her mouth followed, soft lips trailing over the inside of your thighs, her tongue flicking out to catch the slick gathering at your core.

“fuck, shoko,” you gasped, hips bucking when she sucked your clit between her lips, the warmth of her tongue making you shudder.

her grip on your thighs tightened, nails digging into the soft flesh as she kept you pinned, her mouth relentless.

“stay still,” she mumbled, voice muffled against you.

it was impossible. you tugged lightly at her hair, desperate for something to hold onto as she worked you closer to the edge, her tongue curling just right.

you didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps until shoko pulled back slightly, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.

“oh,” she hummed, licking her lips. “you two back already?”

your gaze snapped to the doorway.

gojo and geto stood there, completely bare, their cocks hard and already dripping.

“we were enjoying the view,” gojo said, his voice deeper, laced with something dark as his gaze fixed on you.

geto stepped forward first, his eyes hooded as he stroked himself lazily, clearly not in any rush. “didn’t know you’d start without us.”

“you two looked busy,” shoko teased, swiping her thumb across her bottom lip, catching the glisten of your arousal.

“don’t stop on our account,” gojo added, stepping closer, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock as he knelt beside you.

shoko chuckled, glancing down at you with amusement in her eyes. “what do you think?”

you didn’t know how to answer, too overwhelmed by the weight of their attention—the way geto’s dark gaze lingered on your mouth, the curve of gojo’s smirk as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh.

“she can take it,” geto murmured, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw. “she’s been good so far.”

shoko shifted lower, her breath hot against your core, but this time, geto was beside her, his lips pressing soft kisses to your clit before shoko’s tongue joined him.

“fuck—” your breath hitched, your back arching off the floor as their mouths worked in tandem, the slick warmth of their tongues too much.

gojo, not wanting to be left out, moved behind you, his lips ghosting along your neck as his fingers slid into your pussy, curling to meet the rhythm of their mouths.

“so fucking pretty,” he whispered into your ear, biting lightly at the lobe. “you like being the center of attention, don’t you?”

you couldn’t answer, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation, your body trembling as the knot in your stomach tightened.

“c’mon,” shoko coaxed, her tongue circling your clit faster. “let go for us.”

you did, a sharp cry leaving your lips as your orgasm tore through you, your hips jerking uncontrollably as shoko and geto didn’t stop, their mouths and fingers milking every last drop of pleasure.

when you finally opened your eyes, dazed and breathless, geto was already shifting, settling between your legs as gojo moved to take his place beside shoko.

“don’t be greedy, shoko,” gojo teased, his lips brushing yours as geto lined himself up with your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing inside.

shoko’s hand slipped beneath your jaw, guiding you to look at her as geto thrust into you, stretching you wide.

“you can give us one more,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours as her lips hovered inches from your mouth. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

geto’s cock stretched you to the hilt, the fullness making you shudder as he bottomed out, his forehead pressed against yours. shoko’s hand traced slow circles along your cheek, grounding you with soft touches even as her other hand slipped lower, two fingers pressing against your clit, slick from how drenched you were.

“you’re taking him so well,” she whispered, her thumb brushing your bottom lip. “but you can take more, can’t you?”

you nodded weakly, body already trembling, but the praise made your stomach flutter.

gojo shifted, moving behind you, his lips trailing lazy kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “gonna open you up even more,” he murmured, his fingers dragging down the length of your stomach, teasing along the edge of your folds where geto’s cock stretched you.

you felt his middle finger slip inside, pressing against the soft spot geto wasn’t reaching. the sensation was dizzying.

“so fucking tight,” gojo hissed, sliding another finger in beside the first, stretching you further. “can feel how deep suguru is inside you.”

shoko’s breath tickled your lips as her fingers drifted lower, joining gojo’s as he stretched you open, the combination of their touches leaving you gasping.

“so sensitive,” shoko cooed, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers brushing light circles around your clit.

gojo’s third finger slipped inside, the stretch nearly overwhelming, and your nails dug into the rug beneath you as your back arched, your body tightening around them both.

“fuck,” geto grunted, his cock twitching inside you. “she’s squeezing me like crazy.”

“feels good, doesn’t it?” gojo teased, his smirk audible even if you couldn’t see him. “she’s so warm… bet you won’t last long.”

geto’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts slowing, each drag of his cock purposeful as he pushed deep, grinding against the spot that made you tremble.

you whimpered, barely able to take it all in, your body stretched beyond its limits but craving more. shoko kissed the corner of your mouth, her lips lingering just long enough to make you chase after her, your tongue brushing against hers in a soft, needy motion.

“i can feel how close you are,” she whispered, her fingers pinching your clit just enough to make you jolt. “you’re trembling.”

gojo’s fingers pressed deeper, curling in a way that sent sparks shooting through you, and you nearly sobbed from the intensity.

“you’re holding back,” gojo whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “let go, sweetheart. we’re not stopping till you’re a mess beneath us.”

geto groaned, his pace faltering, hips snapping faster as he chased his own pleasure, his grip bruising in the best way.

shoko dipped her head lower, trailing soft kisses down your neck, her hand leaving your jaw to tug gently at one of your nipples, rolling it between her fingers as her other hand continued its teasing strokes over your swollen clit.

“give it to us,” she coaxed, her voice laced with a softness that made your chest ache. “you can take it, pretty girl. just one more, i know you can.”

your breath hitched, the knot in your stomach tightening as the pressure mounted.

“fuck—shoko, i’m gonna—”

“i know,” she whispered, her lips pressing to yours in a soft, breathless kiss.

the wave hit you hard, your walls fluttering around geto’s cock as your orgasm crashed over you, your hips jerking up to meet his thrusts as gojo’s fingers kept curling inside, stretching you open further.

“that’s it,” gojo growled, pulling his fingers out just as geto’s pace grew erratic.

“fuck, i’m close,” geto grunted, thrusting hard one last time before he groaned low in his throat, spilling into you with a slow roll of his hips.

shoko kissed you through it, swallowing your soft cries as geto leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder, chest heaving.

but they didn’t stop.

geto groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he gave one last deep thrust, burying himself fully inside you as he spilled, warmth flooding your core.

your body trembled, the overstimulation leaving you breathless, forehead pressed against shoko’s shoulder as she ran soft fingers through your hair, grounding you.

“fuck,” geto whispered, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he pulled out slowly, his cum slipping down your thighs, sticky and warm against your skin.

but even as geto leaned back, his hands still lingering on your hips, gojo wasn’t done.

his cock throbbed against your thigh, heavy and slick with precum, the tip flushed and desperate for attention.

you felt his gaze on you, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your face toward him.

“think you can help me out, pretty girl?” he murmured, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, but his hips were already shifting closer, his cock pressing insistently against your palm.

you nodded, the quiet desperation in his voice making you throb, still sensitive from geto’s lingering touch. your fingers curled around him, warm and slick as you stroked slowly, feeling the weight of him in your hand.

“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, tipping his head back slightly as his hand covered yours, guiding your pace.

meanwhile, shoko shifted in front of you, her bare thighs brushing against your waist as she straddled you, her hands resting on your shoulders for balance.

“don’t forget about me,” she teased, voice low, but there was heat in her eyes as she grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers between her legs.

her slick heat coated your fingers immediately as they slipped inside, making her moan softly against your ear, hips rolling to meet your touch.

“you feel that?” she whispered, her forehead pressed to yours, panting softly. “been wanting you to touch me like this all night.”

your palm pressed deeper, thumb brushing over her swollen clit, and she gasped, biting down gently on your bottom lip as her hips bucked forward.

but shoko wasn’t one to let you do all the work.

her other hand drifted between your legs, her fingers brushing over your overstimulated core, dragging through the mess geto left behind.

“so messy,” she murmured, her tone soft and teasing, but there was nothing gentle about the way she slipped two fingers inside you, pressing into the heat that still fluttered around nothing.

you whimpered, arching into her hand as your own pace on gojo faltered, your grip tightening around his cock.

“shit—” gojo hissed, his breath stuttering as your fist squeezed him just right, his hips jerking up into your touch.

“i’ve got her,” shoko murmured to gojo, her lips grazing your ear as she thrust her fingers deeper, her pace slow but deliberate. “she’s so tight, aren’t you, baby?”

you couldn’t form words, only broken moans slipping past your parted lips, drool glistening as it trailed down your chin, your jaw slack beneath the intensity of it all. shoko’s fingers curled deep inside you, pressing against that spot that made your thighs tremble violently, your entire body arching into her touch.

her thumb circled your clit in slow, deliberate motions—not too much, but just enough to have you writhing beneath her, the friction driving you higher with every slow roll of her hips against yours.

“look at you,” geto murmured, dark eyes fixed on the way you twisted between them, shoko’s hand buried up to her knuckles inside you.

without a word, he leaned in, catching the trail of drool with his lips, kissing gently along your jaw before letting his tongue brush over the corner of your mouth, warm and unhurried.

“you’re taking her so well,” he said softly, his breath fanning over your lips before pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw, his palm cupping your cheek tenderly.

shoko’s teeth scraped over your neck, biting gently before soothing the mark with her tongue, her fingers never faltering.

“i know you can give me one more,” she coaxed, her voice soft but firm, curling her fingers until you nearly sobbed into her shoulder. “come on, baby, let me feel you.”

your hips rocked into her hand on instinct, chasing the pressure as pleasure coiled tighter inside you, her fingers coaxing you toward the edge.

“she’s close,” gojo groaned, his cock twitching in your palm as his eyes dragged over your body, flushed and trembling beneath shoko’s touch.

his hand slid over yours, guiding your strokes as his breath stuttered, his hips jerking forward to chase your fist.

“let go for us,” shoko whispered, her tongue tracing the curve of your ear, and with one last slow curl of her fingers, the tension inside you snapped.

your body trembled violently, thighs clenching around her hand as your orgasm surged through you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

shoko kept going, fucking you through the aftershocks, her fingers stroking deeper to draw out every last shiver until you were limp against her chest.

“fuck,” gojo hissed through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening as he spilled hot and thick against your fingers, painting your skin with a satisfied groan.

for a moment, the room was quiet, the only sounds the soft crackling of the fire and the heavy weight of your breathing.

you lay there, muscles lax and trembling, shoko’s fingers still lazily circling your clit as she pressed soft kisses against your shoulder, grounding you in the afterglow.

“you were perfect,” she murmured against your lips, smiling softly as she finally slipped her fingers free, slick and glistening with your release.

geto brushed his thumb along your jaw, tilting your face toward him as he kissed you, slow and deliberate, his touch warm and steady.

“happy new year,” shoko whispered, her forehead resting gently against yours, and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out between heavy breaths.

“happy new year,” you echoed softly, sinking further into the warmth of their bodies against yours.

an. HAPPY NEW YEAR BELOVEDS 😼😽😸! what are some new years goals y’all have? one of mine is to grow my tumblr following n get better at posting more 🤞🏽

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"I bet on losing dogs"

ok this is like my first time actually writing anything EVER, and I don't know how to work tumblr or make this aesthetic so bare with me pls!! I keep seeing yandere batfam x neglected reader and I have had so many ideas so I'm giving this a shot! The reader is referred to with female pronouns but you can imagine it different if you want :) Reader is 2 years older than Damian and is 15 at the start of the story. Damian is 13. Dick is around 10 years older than reader, making him 25 right now. Jason is 8 years older than reader, making him 23. Tim is 2 years older than reader making him 17. Cass is 4 years older than reader and is 19. Stephanie is 3 years older than reader and is 18. Barbra is around 8 years older, making her 23! Bruce is around 35-40ish??? All just kinda guesses to make the plot and dynamics more clear, lmk if you have any questions!!

This is the prolouge and it kinda sucks so pls be nice. Hearts and comments are appreciated. If it's bad ignore it, english isn't my first language. Chapter one:, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4:

You couldn't understand it. You aren't a bad kid, so why were you treated like one? Why did your father treat you like the bane of his existence? Why did your older brothers see you as nothing more than dirt at the bottom of their shoes, a ghost in the manor, a blemish on their picture perfect family of misfits. You tried so so hard to fit in, to be part of the family. You wasted 11 YEARS of your life trying to get noticed, doing activities and hobbies you hated in the hopes of striking conversation with your "siblings". Batman, Bruce Wayne, your "father", ignored you no matter what. He ignored you like it was his job, from the day you came to the manor on your fourth birthday, your mother's death day, to today, your 15th birthday. You saved his life, his and all those other ungrateful losers who you used to call family. Yesterday, you put you life on the line for them, got bitten by that damn snake for them, and they ignored you and told you to walk it off while coddling the girl who suddenly appeared. Never again would you help them, nor would you brush off their mistreatment, not after this betrayal. Not after they took in another girl, a girl your age, the girl who took credit for your heroic act, the girl who bullied you for years at Gotham Prep, the girl who made your life living hell, and called HER family. They choose Tiffany Maverick to be their supposed savior, they would never believe you had the bravery to help them. They chose her to be Tiffany Wayne and scorned you.

You did nothing wrong, from the day you came to the manor you were perfect. Straight A's, no attitude, no complaints and no demands. All you did was try, try, try, and they never noticed.

Richard "The Dick" Grayson, as you and your friends call him, was the world's best big brother to everyone, except you of course! He was your first brother, he was the kid that Bruce Wayne actually wanted to take under his wing. You were 5 and he was 15, he was busy being Robin and then Nightwing. Alfred assured you that Dick adored you, you were his baby sister after all, he was just busy! In later years you realized he was only busy when it came to you. He made time for Damian no matter what, always attended Cassandra's ballet recitals, chatted with Tim and ruffled his hair, and he even dealt with Jason's snarky attitude and biting remarks. Yet, somehow when it came to you, he never had time. Always brushing you off with a shoulder pat and a "Maybe next time sweetheart!" and rolling his eyes when he thought you weren't looking. He's been making time for Tiffany or Tiffybear, as he loves to call her while pinching her cheeks and calling her his favorite little sister, "Don't tell Cass though!" he'll whisper to her. You don't even think he can remember your name. Or that once upon a time you were his "baby bird."

It makes you sick watching her take credit for everything, she's only been in the manor for 6 months and they've all given her more love than they have to you in the past 11 years. She took credit for all your awards, she told everyone she was top of your class, made them "homemade" cakes and muffins. It was all you. She stole everything.

Jason Todd, the red hood, was so mean to you. You used to admire him, looked up to him, and he took all your kind words and gestures for granted and spit them back in your face. Once upon a time, he was your favorite brother, you wanted to be as confident and unshakeable as him, it didn't matter how mean he was now because he was you brother and you loved him. The bond you had before his death was something you couldn't let go of, he was the only one who loved you. When he first came to the manor he was 12 and you came a couple months later. An adorable 4 year old who followed her favorite brother like a duckling. You were 7 when he died. You were 12 when he came back to haunt Bruce and Dick and Tim. You chased after him and tried to resurrect the bond you had for 3 long years. You gave up when you saw them. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw him and Tiffany sneaking out the manor on a school night, you almost threw up when you saw him strap her on his motorcycle and leave for hours. They came back with shit-eating grins and cupcakes for everyone from a 24hr bakery, everyone except you. The bakery you asked him to take you to months ago. Tiffany saw the tears in your eyes and your clenched fists and she laughed.

Timothy Drake-Wayne, you first saw him after Jason died. Tim, in your 10 year old mind, was trying to steal your dad. Bruce ignored you even more after Jason's death and shut everyone out. Your bond with Tim was non-existent no matter how hard you tried. After you realized he wasn't trying to replace Jason, and saw how he was helping your father heal in ways you couldn't, you tried to bond with him. You attempted to play his video games and ignored his complete disintrest in you and anything that had to do with you in hopes he might come to appreciate you. You brought him coffee after long patrols, asked him about his day, asked to meet his friends, you picked up all his hobbies like hacking, cooking, reading even martial arts and yet he ignored you. You tried to find him in hallways at school, only to be treated like a stranger when you found him. He was embarrassed that you were his sister. You were chubby and awkward and didn't have many friends, he didn't want his cool kid friends to know you were his sister. For 5 long years you chased after him, for 5 years you chased a ghost, and somehow Tiffany captured his attention using one of the gadget-thingys you made in hopes to impress him. She walks the hallways of Gotham Prep with him, a perfect sibling duo, he even had her lunch moved so she could sit with him and his friends. He wasn't embarrassed of her. You watched them get closer in 6 months than you have in 5 years. And it hurt.

But perhaps what hurt most is her newfound bond with Damian. Your baby brother. You tried the hardest with Damian, almost as hard as you tried with Bruce, and yet he chose her while all you got was a sword to your neck and sneers of disgust thrown your way. Damian moved in when you were 12. You were elated, if you couldn't have good older siblings, at least you could be one! That plan went to hell when you realized Damian saw you as less than him. No matter how hard you tried, returned your love with disgust. You tried to show him around school like you wished Tim did for you and he called you " A waste of space and Wayne DNA" and said that there was no way you were of "Wayne" blood and that your "whore of a mother" had to have deceived his father, in front of your two friends and half the school. You could've handled his cruel words if he didn't begin attempting to duel you to become your father's heir. About a year ago, when you tried to hug him he threw you down the stairs and you broke your ankle, you stopped trying with him after that. He was so possessive over Bruce and now that somehow transferred to Tiffany too. You'd feel bad for her if she wasn't eating his obsession with her up.

Barbra, Cassandra, and Stephanie were the "It girls." All practically sisters, they hung out almost everyday and had sleepovers every Friday. They giggled about boys, hook-ups, missions and bonded over everything. You wanted be one of them, you tried so hard to be cool, to be pretty, and they could only see your flaws. You curled your hair and did your nails in hope you would blend with them, you even attempted to be Batgirl at one point. You were quickly denied after Stephanie pointed out that you didn't have the right 'physique' for it. Barbra quickly agreed and said you weren't cut out for it, Cassandra simply looked you up and down. Thats why it hurt extra when they welcomed Tiffany with open arms. Suddenly, she could be Batgirl. She talked to them about boys and bonded with them over girl things. She stole your sisters.

You figured out Tiffany was a spy almost as soon as she came into the manor. Her apperance and ability to act like it was her who saved the Bats from the Joker and his new radioactive snake was not a coincidence, neither was her becoming a vigilante only two weeks after coming into the manor, and neither was you catching her walking out the Batcave with arms full of Batman's weapons and plans. You couldn't believe your luck and pulled out your phone to take a picture, too bad you left the flash on. Tiffany quickly noticed you and tried to explain that it was a misunderstanding when Bruce came into the hallway. You beamed at the sight of him and began to explain what you saw Tiffany doing, only Tiffany was faster. She was quick to blame you for everything, and Batman, the world's greatest detective believed her. She said that you bullied her at school and you were so jealous of her joining the family that you went to steal plans and took pictures to frame her. It was a shitty lie and somehow everyone believed it. You still remember the cold indifference on Bruce's face, the sadness on Alfred's, the look of pure delight on Damian's, the shock on Dick's, the interest on Tim's and the disappointment and disgust on Jason's. Something shifted in you that night. You didn't feel an overwhelming amount of love and longing when you looked at your family, you felt anger. Pure unadultered rage, rage at Bruce for never loving you, rage at Dick for being a liar, rage at Jason for throwing away your bond and cool indifference and disgust at the rest of them.

Maybe that's why your abilities finally formed. Maybe thats why the place the snake bit you that fateful night began to glow as you cried in your bathtub, after being scolded all night and getting body slammed by Damian for trying to "taint his dear sister's image". You had powers now, the agility of a snake, you could eject venom out of your fingertips, you could walk on walls, now you could prove them all wrong.

okayyyy yall this was the prolouge. Again this is my 1st attempt at writing so be nice. If enough people like this I'll put out part one. Hope yall enjoyed and lmk what you want to happen next in the comments!!!!!!!!!

[cheriboms]

i made this post almost three years ago.

abt 5 minutes ago i saw a post from a popular acc i love. it had almost 24k notes... but only 6k reblogs.

like... thats a QUARTER of the notes. that means that 18 THOUSAND people saw a piece of absolutely stunning art and said 'yeah i guess i like this but not enough to show it to anyone.' it makes me ill.

you dont really realize it until you become a content creator, but there is really no support for creative works on tumblr. like, let alone small accounts getting any notes, but im talking more ‘popular’ blogs within a fandom.

as a small account myself, i always assumed that my lack of reblogs/interaction was due to my small following, or lack of skill. but then i see a post with 300+ notes, where not even 30 were reblogs. hello??? another post had upwards of 10k notes, and less than 1k reblogs??????

it then occurred to me that its never really been a matter of ‘skill’ or ‘follower count’ on tumblr, because content creators will always be given a minimal amount of sharing across the platform, no matter what. everyone who tries to share their content will always get screwed over at an equal rate, because tumblr seems to have a twitter/instagram-like conditioning that creates a preference of liking to anything else.

and its such a shame, because there really is a lot of great art and writing and gifs and videos and stuff on here that are so underappreciated, regardless of follower count. i think its easy for small blogs to be discouraged by getting such a low reblog-to-like ratio, and then see bigger accounts with thousands of notes – but the truth is, i think a lot of ‘big’ accounts deal with the same thing, but its not as noticed because we just see 75k notes and assume a majority are reblogs.

but they surprisingly arent, and its sad to think that theres very little place to go, despite potentially ‘growing’ as an account and creator :/

PLEASE REBLOG things you like, especially when they are creative works. show support to creators. PLEASE

[monstacheol]

𝔄 𝔊𝔦𝔣𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞 𝔊𝔬𝔡 (𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯)

ϟ 𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: God! Choi Seungcheol x Mortal afab! Reader

ϟ 𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Your marriage wasn't the one to be envied. Marry to one of the ruthless kings due to an arrangement from your father. Being nothing more than a pawn. And you despise it all.

On the night of drinking and celebrating, you decided to turn in for the night. As you walk into your shared bedroom, you are greeted by a God, not just any other God. The God of Sky and Thunder. King of Gods himself. Who came with a gift.

ϟ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 937 (Teaser); 4k or more (Full)

ϟ 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: Dom Zeus! Seungcheol, Sub Lady! Mortal Reader, dirty talking, breeding kink, oral (f. & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms and multiple positions, small amount or maybe more manhandling, a bit of praise kink or more, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), crying from pleasure, size kink, choking, your "husband" talking badly about the gods, Pet name: (y/n): darling. (I feel like I miss something but if I am. Let me know)

ϟ 𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: To be listed…

ϟ 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This was kind of inspired by a post I made and I thought about it and went "Yeah. Let's go for it." If there are some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry. I will edit them later. Supposed to be out in late September (before the hurricane hit Friday) but I MANAGE to get service so here we are. I promise I would get out and I took this chance to get out on luck. Please comment, like, reblog for support.

You sigh as your head presses against the frame, exhausted from the day's events.

"Long night!"

You heard a voice behind you. You turned around to see a mysterious man lying on his side across from your bed, a mischievous grin on his face. You felt a jolt of surprise at the man's unexpected presence in your bedroom. "Who are you?" you asked cautiously, your heart racing uncertainly. The man chuckled softly and replied, "I'm just someone who couldn't resist meeting you."

You glanced at the man's appearance. He had a white toga draped over his shoulder and a gold cuff wrapped around one of his biceps, which was exposed. His pec was exposed, while the other was concealed under the toga. His toga was short so that you could see his muscular legs. His eyes were pierced brown, and his smile was charming. His hair was black and wet, and he was breath-taking. The more you look at him, the more you find yourself drawn to his mysterious aura. You were so lost in thought that you heard him laugh.

"What's the matter, darling? Lost in thought?" he asks with a playful smirk.

You shook your head, cleared all your thoughts, and got to the question.

"W-What are you doing here? You are trespassing, and I would appreciate it if you left immediately," you stammer, feeling a mix of fear and fascination at the mysterious stranger in your room. The man chuckles, his grin widening as he replies.

"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the celebration of your king's victory. As if your husband needed it," the man said.

A small scoff escaped his lips. "That your husband of yours," he continued.

"That man thinks we are not the reason behind his success. He's so power-hungry and incompliant that he can't even get on his knees and thank us after what we've done to make him victorious. I must say I don't think they'll be so happy to hear about that. It's a shame. Really. How ungrateful people can be," the man said with a hint of disappointment.

You listen as this man talks badly about your husband like he knows him. Before you could speak, he continued.

"But you, Lady Y/N."

You froze as the mysterious man said your name.

"You're such a loyal worshipper. You thank the gods for every endeavor and never falter in your devotion. A woman like you should be rewarded," the man expressed.

The way the man in front of you looks at you. It was like he was undressing you with his eyes. His gaze was intense and unwavering. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tried to maintain your composure.

"W-Who are you?" you said, asking again.

The man smirked at my question.

"I am known by many names. Zojz. Tinia. Jupiter. Zeus. But," the man said as he slowly rose from your bed, full of confidence, "you can call me Seungcheol."

Your eyes widen in shock as you realize the man's true identity. "M-My... God," you stammer, feeling two emotions at once: fear and awe wash over you. You instantly fall to the floor, bowing. "Please forgive me for any disrespect I may have shown," you say, bowing your head in reverence.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, his grin widening at your reaction. A loyal follower, he thought to himself. He slowly approached you as you kowtowed before him, his presence towering over you. "Rise," he commanded gently, offering a hand to help you stand. As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel an admiration and reverence for the god standing before you.

"There will be no formalities," he said. As you take his hand and stand up, Seungcheol's eyes twinkle with amusement. He was taller than you expected, and his presence exuded a sense of power and authority that made you feel equally intimidated and intrigued.

"My god."

You were speechless. You didn't know what to say, and the words hadn't even begun to form. Seungcheol noticed your awe and chuckled softly.

"You seem lost in words right now, darling," Seungcheol said. His deep voice resonated through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was as if he could read your thoughts and emotions with just a glance.

"I-It's just that I didn't expect such a sudden visit," you stammered, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Would you like me to leave?" he asked. You shake your head quickly. "N-No. Please stay. I didn't mean—"

"Don't worry, darling," Seungcheol interrupted with a reassuring smile. "Just teasing you a bit."

His smile was gentle and warm, putting you at ease. He then stepped away from you and trailed around the room. Taking in everything about his surroundings, even looking at the unfinished tapestry mounted on the wall. With a persistent and powerful head, he strolled around.

"Besides, I didn't want to leave without giving you a gift," Seungcheol stated.

A gift... for you...

"W-What kind of gift?" is all you can manage to stammer out of. "A special one," he answered.

"How special is the gift?" you asked, curious. Seungcheol finally stopped walking and turned back to you with a mysterious glint in his eyes, making your heart race with anticipation.

"What if I told you that your gift, your special little gift, was something that I wanted to show you? To thank you for showing such admiration for me?" Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. Your mind raced with possibilities as you waited for him to reveal the surprise he had in store for you.

"What if I said your gift was me?

⋘ READ NOW ⋙

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 3

___________________

"Missing: If found dead or alive, please contact the authorities"

Dick feels like he's about to puke, every time he sees that fucking poster, every time it's played in the news

He feels like he failed, not just as Nightwing, but as a brother, he was supposed to be a protector, projecting you as a vigilante and as a hero

Everything keeps replaying in his head, how you were always out of theme in family photos because Damian keeps telling you the wrong one, but no one bothers to tell you the real one

How in a single day, everything you've ever built was abandoned, your room, your school, your friends (he wasn't sure if you had any) (ps: you didn't, Damian wouldn't let it happen)

How no one was there to help

And he saw another poster "bring back dead or alive"

He wasn't sure how he's going to accept if you're actually dead

Because if you're alive, there could be a chance, he'd apologize to you, and he knows you're kind enough to accept it, he'll spend lost time with you, and everything will be fine

But with every minute that passes, it feels like slowly you are pulling away further from him (if it's still possible that you could be pulled further than you are now)

________________________

2 years ago

"How long are you gonna keep disappointing me like this...?" Bruce sighed deeply

He got your report card, funny enough, the only time he sees you is when you do something wrong

And it wasn't like you failed either, it's just that it's lower than what your siblings got, it's lower than his standards

Well sorry you're not Tony Stark level, am I right? Ahaha-

You weren't stupid, you just weren't as smart as your siblings, in your defense you were smarter than them at some other stuff, it's just that it's the stuff your father didn't care about

"Dad are you finally throwing out the anchor?" Damian snickered

You huff at the insult, knowing if you insult him back you'll get in trouble "it's not even that bad-"

Jason furrows his brows "yeah, but it's not good enough, I hope you realize how lucky you are compared to the other kids in Gotham, you should repay it by being outstanding"

"And not to mention as the first born biological child you should uphold yourself to the standards given to you, if you can't do that then stand down" Tim scoffs at you

That comment may or may not be from an insecurity that he isn't Bruce's real kid (despite being more loved than you)

"don't you think you're being too dramatic? I don't even want that stupid company" you grit your teeth

"that stupid company is what keeps a roof over your head, stop being so ungrateful"

Damian's face has that shit-eating grin once again "throw it out the streets maybe then it'll know"

It's always that fucking suggestion that throws you off, every fight, they call you a burden in this house, they want you out

You feel like if it weren't going to be a legal problem Bruce would have done it

"you guys are so full of yourselves, I don't know where you pull the 'i'll fix Gotham' mentality when you can't even fix your own issues" you grab your grades and leave

"You fucking-" you hear Damian say but you ran to your room, to the far corner of the Manor, a guest bedroom (you were kicked out of your master bedroom when Damian came, his reason was "it's too stressful seeing it everyday", so they moved you)

______________________

Present

"Diana...?" Bruce calls

"Diana!, what is it!?" Bruce yells "What do you see?"

Diana looks like she's about to cry, as she examines the footage in front of her

another demigod dead

She thinks, her hands shaking at the sight of another child, like she once was, dying at the hands of those monsters who hunt them down

Does Bruce know? It didn't seem like he did, if he knew- he would have protected the kid right?

Then she sees light, she sees the little kid run into the garden, and meet nymphs, she sees the kid escape

"oh thank the gods..." She whispered

Without saying another word, she left the tower, leaving the others confused, she knew where the kid was

(Name) was safe at camp

_______________________

I just finished an exam and the entire time I was taking it, the edit of "dynamic duo", starring Nightwing and Redhood kept playing in my head

Also this series is gonna have multiple parts, I wanna make things easier for you guys :3 , how do you make a masterlist?

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

@bat1212 @vanessa-boo @sweetconnoisseurgardener

[pacofprunes]

my mom always told me,

warnings. — noncon, namgyus pov, incel namgyu, namgyu calls women females, baby trapping, mentions of gangbang and 3some, reader is called a slut and a whore, choking, victim blaming

by clicking read more, you consent to reading 18+ content

my mom always told me not to stare. but it’s hard not to when you got a bitch so hot sitting across from you. it’s even harder when your pupils almost cover your entire eye color from how big they were from the drugs. as a kid i listened, but now? psh, i’m starting to forget about that silly lesson. still staring right at you from across the bar.

my mom always told me not to point. but my mom didn’t understand. how am i supposed to show someone something without pointing? how could i show my friend the girl that i wanted by just speaking? nah. and maybe just maybe, i’ll point my finger lower, and lower, and then my friend will point as well, his finger also going lower and lower, tracing your pretty little ass. god i wish i could actually feel it.

my mom always told me to walk a lady home at night or to stay with her until someone else could arrive to pick her up. keep her safe from the people that may try to hurt her, weather i knew her or not. she said it was the right thing to do, and that’s what i’m doing! i was the one keeping you, my pretty slut, safe. i just have my own way of doing things. if it wasn’t me it’d be someone else, don’t kid yourself. thanos would jump at the chance to get between your legs. he’s probably going to do the same thing as me. i might let him or he might just help himself too.

my mom always told me to be kind to others. well, clearly your mom didn’t teach you that. over here pounding on my chest and kicking at me. that shit wasn’t very fucking kind. i’m just helping a women out. sex is normal, it’s healthy, it’s important. so when you think about it, i’m just trying to help you. i’m being kind. just like my mom told me to. couldn’t you show some gratitude? my mom always told me to say please and thank you, did yours? she clearly didn’t teach you to be kind, i don’t expect a thank you, but i sure as hell deserve one.

my mom always told me that women like a strong man. so why when my hands are squeezing your tiny throat and i flex my arms to show every muscle, you still don’t find me attractive? why when i move you so effortlessly, easily holding you down with one hand while you try to struggle, why don’t you find me attractive? shit, i could probably hold you down with one finger, i’m clearly strong, so could you quit your fucking whining bitch? i have the best dick you’ll ever get in your life.

my mom always told me that you females like when a man takes control of a situation. likes when a man takes care of all the problems, the bills, everything. so why when i take control of your pleasure, your pain, the breaths you take with my hand wrapped around your throat, why are you acting like you don’t like it? are you trying to be different from the average female? you’re all the same. you ask for a man to take care of you, to take control, but when he does it, when i do it, you act like a whiny fucking bitch and complain like you don’t want it. don’t bullshit me. i can see right through you.

my mom always told me that she wanted me to have grandkids, that she wanted me to start my own family. and she always told me that most women want a family too. so why when you feel my dick tense in you and start to twitch and feel my cum leaking down your legs, all the way to your toes, why are you screaming at me? why are you crying? quit fucking yelling at me bitch! i know you wanted a kid, i know you wanted a family, i just fucking gave it to you, so how about you quit being ungrateful and just fucking suck my cum back in you. don’t waste a single drop.

my mom always told me not to hit a women. she said, “namgyu, you should never hit a lady, okay? it’s wrong. you should protect the lady you love, not hurt her.” but mom, this wasn’t a lady. she, you, are a slut. a filthy fucking whore. you were begging for it so quit shaking your head no. the outfit you were wearing, the alcohol you were taking to make yourself more compliable for me so that you couldn’t back out or get away, you wanted me to do this. you wanted me to fuck you, wanted me to fuck a baby in you. there’s no need to act so indifferent now. mom. she’s not a lady, she’s a slut, okay? so don’t be mad at me. you said women like when you give them what they want so i gave her what she wanted and i gave you what you wanted mom! you wanted a grandchild? well i just got you one.

my mom always told me a lot of things. the only one i didn’t listen to was “namgyu, don’t get involved with those drugs that you see the other kids around you take. i don’t want you to go down that path.” but what did she know? she clearly knew nothing. you reacted like nothing how she told me. but then again, she told me women, like this that blah blah blah. she told me ladys like this that and the third. you weren’t a lady. you weren’t a women. you aren’t any of those things. you’re a slut, a whore, a cum dump. my slut.

my mom always told me to share. she said sharing is caring. so how about you open your legs for me instead of me having to pry them open, and share that dirty little cunt with me and then i’ll call thanos and i’ll share with him! maybe he’ll fuck a baby in you too. maybe he’ll call up a friend as well, did thanos mom teach him manors as well? did she tell him sharing is caring? your mom clearly did you wrong. how could you spread your legs open for a man you didn’t even know? come on, have some more dignity…i’ll teach you something.

i, namgyu, says that sharing is caring, okay? there’s a lesson for you. one your mom should’ve taught you. so how about you share your body with me, not that you already haven’t, but i took that from you. you didn’t share. i had to take it myself. so listen to me slut, spread your legs, lay still, and share with me, kay? be a good slut and i’ll ask thanos to share some pills with you when he gets down here. and you better not say no. don’t you know that if you’re offered something you should say yes and then thank you? so, do you want my dick in you? careful, there’s only one right answer. yes? now say thank you namgyu and shut your fucking whiny mouth.

[arkhamsbrat]

it wasn’t necessarily a panic attack you were having (it absolutely was). all you did was lock yourself in the closet after a particularly rough call with your parents. jason was out on patrol, far too busy to worry about some silly fight.

you frequently failed to remember that jason can and would always drop everything for you. no matter what it was.

hours pass, three to be exact but your brain was too fogged to keep count. the familiar sound of your window clicking open and jason’s boots hitting the ragged carpet pulled you from your pit.

“baby! saw the biggest damn dog today, you gotta see the picture of i-” his thoughts trailed off noticing you weren’t nestled in the usual corner of your shared bed. “baby?” he called out, frown in his voice evident.

“in here” you mumbled, trying to fight back the next round of tears. his footsteps got closer to the door. “is it okay if i come in?” all you could give him was a quiet grunt. he knew you well enough to take it as a yes.

“hey, pretty…” he cooed softly, kneeling down next to you. “What’s goin’ on?” jason had his hands running through your hair in an attempt to ground you.

“my ma’ called today…” you whispered, peering up at him through wet lashes. “got in a fight about how i don’t visit anymore.” he nodded silently, finally taking a seat next to you and opening his arms. you crawled into his lap immediately. “said i was an ungrateful bitch.”

it was hard to ignore how much he tensed after you admitted it. a beat of silence passed between you two. jason was trying to debate his response. “i’m sorry she said that to you. y’know it isn’t true, right?” he kissed your forehead when you nodded. “good. now can i be honest with you?”

here it goes.

“your mom neglected you your whole life an’ excused it as you bein’ independent. you don’t have anything to be grateful for when she’s involved. y’got out if their on your own all by yourself.” Jason hooked his arms under yours and pulled you closer. “y’didn’t even get to rely on your parents when you were a kid… y’don’t owe them a visit, or a thank you.”

jason hooked his finger under your chin to pull your eyes to his. “don’t know how you ended up so good comin’ from those assholes, but y’did. you hear me, baby?” those baby blues bore into your eyes, almost demanding a response. you nodded sadly. “no matter what she says, you’re good. not ungrateful, not spoiled, not evil.”

it was almost comical. you’ve done this with jason to comfort him so many times, and yet you felt embarrassed that he had to do this for you. you were supposed to have it together. supposed to be his rock, his-

“i see those gears turnin’. cut it out.” jason spoke firmly. “you get bad days too, i can’t hog ‘em all.” he laughed at the small huff that escaped you. “can’t i comfort my partner? huh?” you gave him one small nod. his hands moved from your hair to your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze. “thanks for the permission, your highness.” that got a laugh out of you. “there you are..” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

[idkbroletssee]

"Billy is ungrateful to Wanda" is such a shallow take.

The Kaplans sheltered him from ending up LIKE Wanda-alone, unbound & misguided with all that crazy potential. They instilled good values, making him the brave and empathetic kid who stepped up, controlled his powers, chose to be good, and will root for Wanda cuz he sees the good in her too(Children's crusade).

Wanda is supposed to be grateful to them.

[etheraltides]

Fractured Devotion

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe’s addiction and mounting debts push him to the edge after a threatening encounter with Barry. As the boy you love clings to you for comfort, you must decide how far you’re willing to go to save him.

Warning(s): drug use and addiction, volatile behavior (I mean it’s season one rafe), violence.

You sat on the edge of Rafe’s bed, flipping absently through a magazine you found on his nightstand. It was some glossy publication, all luxury homes and island life aesthetics. You weren’t paying attention to the words. Instead, you listened to the faint echoes of muffled voices downstairs.

Rafe was arguing with his dad again.

It had been a year since you’d started dating him, but it felt like you’d spent half of that time comforting him after some blow-up with Ward. Lately, though, it was getting worse. The fights were louder, angrier, and left Rafe spiraling into moods you struggled to pull him out of.

You adjusted the strap of your sundress, feeling a prickle of unease. You’d noticed how his behavior had changed over the past few weeks – more erratic, more aggressive. He was drinking more, using more. And when you tried to talk to him about it, he brushed it off with a smirk and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“He’s just so…ungrateful, you know?” Rafe’s voice carried through the door as he stormed into the room, slamming it behind him. His chest rose and fell with barely-contained rage, his blue eyes sharp and angry.

You looked up, setting the magazine aside. “Rafe, what happened?”

He raked a hand through his messy blonde hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Sarah,” he spat, as if her name tasted bitter. “That little traitor.”

Your brows knitted in concern. “What did she do?”

“She’s siding with them. With John B and those Pogue losers. She’s supposed to be my sister, our family, but she’s out there, screwing around with him instead of standing by us.” He stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression hardening. “Do you even know what that’s like? To have your own blood turn on you?”

You didn’t know how to answer, so you stood and reached for his hand. “Rafe, calm down. She’s just a kid. Maybe she doesn’t—”

“Don’t defend her!” he snapped, pulling away from your touch. “She’s tearing this family apart, and Dad just lets her do it. Like she’s perfect and I’m…”

His voice trailed off, but the look in his eyes – the self-loathing barely hidden under the anger – made your chest ache.

“You’re not a failure, Rafe.” you said softly, stepping closer. “You’re just—”

“What?” He laughed, sharp and bitter. “Go ahead, say it. I’m just what, (Y/N)? A mess? A junkie? A disappointment?”

“No.” you insisted, but he was already spiraling.

Rafe’s hand shot out, knocking a lamp off the bedside table. It crashed to the floor, the bulb shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. You flinched, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I do everything for him,” Rafe said, his voice rising. “I do everything he asks – everything he needs – and it’s never enough. Sarah can screw off to Pogueland but all Dad sees is me. The screw-up. The kid who can’t get it right.”

“Rafe…” Your voice trembled as you watched him punch the wall, his knuckles splitting against the drywall. You’d never seen him this unhinged before.

“I’m the one holding everything together!” he shouted, ignoring the blood dripping from his hand. “I’m the one doing the dirty work, making sure this family doesn’t fall apart. And for what? So I can listen to his voice in my head, telling me I’m worthless?”

He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “Sometimes I think he’s right. Maybe I am just…broken.”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. You wanted to reach out, to pull him into your arms and tell him everything would be okay. But you weren’t sure if he’d let you, or if he’d push you away like he always did when he felt too vulnerable.

“You’re not broken, Rafe.” you said, sitting beside him. “You’re just hurting. And I want to help you, but you have to let me in.”

For a moment, he looked at you like he wanted to believe you. But then the mask of cocky indifference slid back into place. He stood, grabbing his jacket.

“Where are you going?” you asked, panic rising in your chest.

“Out.” he said curtly. “Don’t wait up.”

The door slammed open with a loud crash, startling you out of your thoughts. Rafe stumbled in, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light. He was a mess. His shirt clung to his damp skin, his hair was disheveled, and his pupils were blown wide, a wild, unhinged energy radiating off him.

“Rafe?” you called hesitantly, standing from the bed. The moment your voice broke the silence, his gaze snapped to you, sharp and glassy.

“What are you still doing here?” he muttered, slurring his words slightly. “I thought you’d leave. Everyone leaves.”

“I wasn’t going to leave” you said softly, keeping your tone steady despite the unease creeping up your spine. “What happened? Where were you?”

He ignored your question, pacing the room erratically, his hands tugging at his hair. “Barry.”he spat, the name dripping with venom. “That piece of shit thinks he can threaten me. Me!”

The name sent a chill down your spine. You’d heard the rumors about Barry, but Rafe had always brushed off your questions, assuring you it wasn’t serious. Now, though, the weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest.

“Rafe, what do you mean he threatened you?” you asked, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

He stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression wild. “What’s going on?” he repeated mockingly. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I owe Barry money – a lot of money – and now he’s acting like I’m his bitch or something. Like I’m just some loser who can’t handle my business.”

Your stomach dropped. “How much money, Rafe?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“How much?” you pressed, your voice trembling.

“Does it matter?” he snapped, his anger flaring. “I’ll take care of it. I don’t need you or anyone else to swoop in and save me, alright?”

You took a step back, shocked by the venom in his tone. But then you saw it – the fear buried beneath his anger, the shame flickering in his eyes. He wasn’t just angry. He was scared.

“Rafe.” you said carefully, “how much do you owe him?”

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Ten grand, alright?” he finally muttered, his voice barely audible.

You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you. Ten thousand dollars. That wasn’t just a debt – it was a noose tightening around his neck.

“Rafe…” you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising again.

“I’ll figure it out, okay? I always do. Barry doesn’t scare me. He’s just a lowlife who thinks he’s bigger than he is.”

“Raphael, stop.” You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. He tensed under your touch, but you didn’t let go. “Let me help you.”

“What?” he barked, his laugh bitter and sharp. “You want to help me? With what, Y/N? You gonna go have a chat with Barry? Maybe flash your pretty tits and make him forget I owe him ten grand?”

“Don’t!” you said firmly, refusing to back down. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m trying to help you, Rafe.”

“Help me?” he repeated, pulling away from you. “You don’t get it. This isn’t something you can just fix with your stupid optimism and your little good-girl act.”

“I can pay it.” you said suddenly, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

Rafe froze, his wild eyes locking onto yours. “What did you just say?”

“I’ll pay him.” you said again, your voice steadier this time. “I have savings. I’ll pay Barry, and you can pay me back when you’re ready.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of Rafe’s ragged breathing. Then he exploded.

“Are you insane?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. “You think I’m going to let you do that? Let you clean up my mess like I’m some kind of charity case?”

“I’m not doing it to embarrass you, Rafe,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “I’m doing it because I care about you. Because I don’t want Barry coming after you – or worse.”

“Worse?” he repeated, his voice dropping dangerously low. “What do you think he’s gonna do, huh? You think he’s gonna kill me? Barry’s all talk. He’s nothing.”

“Then why are you so scared?” you shot back, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you pacing and yelling and breaking things if it’s not a big deal?”

He stared at you, his chest heaving, his face twisted with anger and something else –something raw and vulnerable. “Because I can’t lose you.” he finally said, his voice breaking. “Because if you get involved in this, Barry’s not just coming after me. He’s coming after you, too.”

You took a shaky breath, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “He won’t come after me because I’ll pay him, silly”

For a long moment, he just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his hands trembling. Then, slowly, he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. His head fell into his hands, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m gonna fix this, okay?” he ran a hand through his hair, his words muffled.

You knelt beside him, your hand gently brushing his. “Then let me help you.” you said softly. “Not just with the money – with all of it. But you have to let me in, Rafe. You have to trust me. I’m not your enemy here.”

He looked at you, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears, his lips trembling as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Instead, he reached out and pulled you toward him, his hands gripping your waist tightly, almost desperately.

His lips crashed against yours in a bruising, frantic kiss. It wasn’t soft or sweet – it was raw, messy, and full of need. His fingers dug into your sides as his mouth moved against yours, the kiss a mix of desperation and hunger. He kissed you like you were the only thing anchoring him, like he was drowning and you were his lifeline.

You gasped against his lips, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair. His body pressed against yours, his movements erratic and uncoordinated, but his need for you was undeniable.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths ragged. “Shit. I don’t deserve you.” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“No, you don’t.” you whispered, your hands gently cupping his face. “But you’ve got me anyway.”

For the first time that night, he let out a shaky laugh – a sound filled with both relief and sadness. He kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense, as if trying to convince himself that you were real.

[nemesis-writer]

Crybaby

Masterlist TW- neglect, almost-suicide, suicidal thoughts

She stood on the bridge In silence and fear, For the demons of darkness Had driven her here.

So close to falling yet so far from succeeding, I latched on to the bar hoping to make my self let go from the shivering rain. But no, I just held on wishing that a brother or father of mine could save me.

They cut her heart Right out of her chest, Making her believe That the demons knew best.

They depth of my hatred for them goes farther than the deepest oceans and the farthest galaxies. I guess from this you can tell that my life has always been described as a poem from the darkest poets such as Edgar Poe, or darker than the ebony that coats the outside of the unknown galaxy.

I've always loved myself for it, yet I've always been hated for it. The Waynes could also be mentioned as the Addams' family with a loyal butler, multiple suicidal kids, and 'loving parents'. Yet unlike the Waynes, at least the Addams family aren't full of rage and loathesome creatures.

The demons of my life have come from the very same family that held me, hurt me, neglected me, and despised me for the rest of my days.

They were always there, Sometimes just out of sight, Waiting in the background Till the time was right.

Damian was always the one I expected to push myself through the buildings that were made for despair my whole life. Jason, would be considered the first one to have memories with since he's trying to avoid showing the wretched hatred my father has for me.

Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Barbara considered me useless, unintelligent, and fatally naive to the outside world. Then there's Dick, the eldest, the role model, the possibly apple of dear old dad's eye, he on the other hand found me as a means to an end, who wouldn't?

Bruce, I was stupid to assume that we could connect as a father-daughter would. Every day he wished to send me back to the adoption center and nullify all the papers that was supposed to make me a Wayne.

These demons were destructive, Knocking down the life she knew, Hating everything about her; She hated herself, too.

The family that I was inured to, has stabbed, beaten, and thrown me away like an animal. I was considered more as a stray animal begging for love and attention. The human beings that I consider myself to be connected to is Alfred and Jesse. Alfred is the Lurch of this family while Jesse is another being that has kept me from losing sanity in this jail they call home.

I got lucky to graduate just in time before I let myself drown from neglect. But sadly we can't simply run away from the demons we bear.

These demons can't be seen, But they're far from fairy tales. They live inside your mind; Their evilness prevails.

People thought I'm crazy for being ungrateful of this life, my words are deemed fraudulent. But my appearance is out of order, my clothing is ragged, my hair remains dry and bristling, my body now shows malnourishment and scars from my demons. Yet, my eyes remained the same, broken, in front of the face I was gifted to be beautiful became a mask for the truth, my face was meant to be scarred.

I've never felt the scars go deeper yet I never minded of it. But as I was about to let go of the bars that held my fear in it I heard a voice.

"Hello lady what are you doing?"

It was a voice of a little five year old girl.

"Just enjoying the rain little one. Where are your parents at?"

"I don't have any, I just like being alone."

I jumped over the bar back to the bridge, looking at her with sadness.

"Want me to take you back to the center?"

"Suree, Thank youuu!", She giggled.

And we went on our way back.

So on the bridge she stood, About to end the fight. Then she stopped and thought I'll fight them one more night.

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e