#me like 'but is this year's really *that* accurate if I listened to so much less than the last two years'

[essektheylyss]

it's not the mental illness that compels me to listen to several months worth of music every year dammit it's solely about getting an adequate sample size. fucking obviously. how could I trust my spotify wrapped if I didn't have clean statistical data

[autumnrory]

i rmr when all the initial meta around endgame was coming out people were talking about steve being depressed and whatnot and it's like well yeah but he's BEEN depressed, like he woke up alone in this century and he kept going, now i can understand it being worse this time after finding a family and getting bucky back and losing them all except of course that's not why endgame steve was on about so like......the people writing meta were trying to connect these things that of course weren't really there on screen because that simply wasn't our steve

but i think it really could've been SO interesting to see this is the thing that finally makes steve stay down like he's lost so much and he just CAN'T keep fighting like i get some people think that's what they were going for but considering the ending......it's really not. and so i'm just thinking about a version after iw, maybe he gets some of the thor treatment except not turning his depression into a dumb fatphobic joke lol and maybe nat and others are trying to get through to him and it just doesn't work and then we get some flashbacks (which you could have done for all the original avengers actually which would be particularly important for bruce and nat and clint who did not have their own trilogies) including his mom telling him "you always stand up" and THAT being the thing to finally get him moving like it would've been such a perfect way to finally show sarah rogers some respect and ACTUALLY show steve really struggling instead of whatever they tried to do with him in that movie

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Reading my fave thin man and lady fic. Kicking my feet a lot because tbh. Sometimes a sad man really is just a weird woman's science project in a way that is so homoerotic

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

No offense but it feels like absolute torture living as an extrovert who processes things by talking and has a base need for social interaction when you have no outlet/source for that

[carriesthewind]

I reread the IA's contemporaneous post justifying their "National Emergency Library", and one of the things that struck me is just how selfish it was.

(It was also full of falsehoods, ranging from exaggeration to outright lies, but that's another matter.)

While 2020 feels like it was several decades in the past, it was actually only a few years ago. And I remember March of 2020! I was there! And oh my god, is this post right in line with every other selfish, demanding asshole determined to make a global pandemic all about themselves!

First of all, there is the language of the post - it is a "tremendous and historic outage" that books are unavailable to patrons because libraries are closed for the pandemic. "Right now, today, there are 650 million books that tax-paying citizens have paid to access that are sitting on shelves in closed libraries, inaccessible to them."

Missing from this outrage is a recognition that, like. Librarians are people. They get sick, and die.

They did get sick, and died.

Libraries were closed not only to protect patrons and the public, but librarians too. Libraries were closed to protect people, human beings. Because generally speaking, even the most enthusiastic supporters of access to books and knowledge, prioritize lives over books.

The AI's post, however, reeks of an entitlement to things that *my* tax dollars paid for. Libraries and library collections aren't a public good. They're something *I* should be able to access anytime I want, damn the context or the consequences.

(Was it also a historic outrage when I had to wait several months to check out Nona the Ninth, because so many other people were checking it out?)

Second, as I said, I remember early 2020. And in spring and summer of 2020, there was more free content on the internet than before or since. So many people and so many institutions were bending over backwards to provide people with books and tv shows and music and podcasts and virtual tours and collections and just about anything that someone could figure out how to digitize. So many people were giving away books for free, or writing/recording new content to give away for free. I can't even remember how many times I heard or read someone telling their readers or listeners just to pay what they could, if they could. So many people and institutions were giving away so much, do so much, to provide access to knowledge and books and entertainment and information.

And in that moment, the IA decided to steal from people. When so many people, so many authors, were acting so selflessly, they decided that it wasn't good enough. And instead of giving away themselves, they decided to steal from authors and pat themselves on the back for "meet[ing] this unprecedented need," when they didn't even actually do anything themselves. Or maybe more accurately, the only thing they did was something irrelevant to the actual needs of the community, something they wanted to do anyway, something to try to use a pandemic as an excuse to advance their agenda.

Because third, there is zero concern for the population of patrons actually most impacted by the closure. The IA cares, to a fault, only about information being digitized.* But many people who use physical libraries, many of the people most impacted by their closure, are people who do not have access to the AI's so-called "open library." And people who could access digital books generally continued to have access to their library's e-book services, and to tons of other free content. The patrons who were actually in the most need are ignored as irrelevant.

*And I want to be clear - they care that information is digitized, not about digital access. "Access" means more than information being digitized and theoretically being able to be read.

It's so clear that IA didn't really care about the patrons of physical libraries. Instead, they saw a real problem, and instead of working toward any solutions, decided to use it as a prop to push their own agenda. (Again, while people were dying.)

It's just all so deeply selfish.

[computerpeople]

my life can be sectioned off into like fandom periods and i tend to be able to remember things more chronilogically because of that. no internet ballerina/webkinz only, deviantart user/furry fandom, mlp, homestuck, until dawn, danganronpa, overwatch, homestuck, and now i've cycled back into until dawn

[justaaveragereader]

Slashtober🔪||Split!Seonghwa

Pairing:Seonghwa x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: THIS DOES NOT ACCURATELY REPRESENT DIDs, IT IS JUST A FIC, DARK THEME, Pussy Slapping, Squirting, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Mommy!Hwa, Sub!Reader, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Breast Play, Lactation Kink, Hwa Got Multiple Personalities (other personas are the members), Mentions Of Killing, Spit, Choking, Humiliation, Jongho Watches, It’s A LOT going on in this fic🫣…So If I Missed Anything…Lemme Know👀👀

A/N: It’s the last Slashtober fic of this year😱!!! I can’t believe it’s over already!! I swear I always have so much fun with this series, I feel like this year was so different from last year, more spooky, scary lol. Thank you all for the supportive, rather it was a like, a comment, a repost and etc…I love and appreciate yall🥹🖤! Til next year, we may or may not see Slashtober in 2025🫡!

Slashtober 24’ Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT MDNI!!!!

All Ageless, Blank, and Bot Looking Blogs Will Be Blocked.

“He will only listen to you.” Jongho said, letting out a loud sigh on the phone. Placing his pen down, he flickers through Seonghwas medical chart. The vein in his forehead protruding was throbbing uncontrollably. The amount of tests that had been done on Seonghwa were some of the best. Letting out a frustrated sigh you let your head thump against your work desk.

“What do you want me to do about that?” You grit into the phone clutching it tightly.

“Talk with your lawyer, come talk to him, I don’t know what to do I’m running out of options Y/N.”

“You are the doctor Jongho, what do you mean you are running options?!” You whisper yell into the phone.

“Talk to your lawyer.” He says before cutting the line, clearly annoyed you lock your phone, squeezing it in your hand. Clearly annoyed you quietly slam your phone down onto your desk. Trying your best not to alert anyone. You give your phone one last harsh squeeze before standing up and making your way towards the bathroom to make a call to the defense lawyer.

~

“Thank you for coming.” Jongho says while letting out a sigh. Tightening his lips up, he lets security wand your body, after stepping out from the metal detectors.

“Really?” You say, clearly annoyed. You spread your legs and arms into a starfish so that security can do their job thoroughly. Your eyes cut to Jongho, staring at him harshly you are practically seething with anger. Feeling the intense atmosphere, Mingi decides to break the tension.

“I heard he doesn’t have any new personality developments.” He says with a smile on his face, as he’s done wanding your body. Standing up straight he has a big smile on his face, before he looks over to Jongho who is staring at you with irritation. Nodding your head you shoot Mingi a smile..

“Thank you Mingi, at least someone has given me good news.” With a genuine smile you pat his shoulder before stepping back and waving your hand forward signaling Jongho to lead the way. Rolling his eyes you both walk down the hallway, without saying a word. Irritation liters the bright, white halls.

“I love him.” You state outloud in the eerily quiet hallway, eyes shooting daggers into the back of Jonghos head.

“He is a murderer.” He states, your lips automatically zipping shut. Your hands ball into your pants. You couldn’t help what Seonghwa was, he was like that long before you came along, not all of his personalities were horrible. Majority of them were quite interesting, as a collective you had learned to love them all.

“Murdered 18 people in one single night, and you say you love him.”

Biting your lip you try to refrain from any smart remarks but your mouth moves before your brain can comprehend anything.

“Deep down, he’s still my Seonghwa and no personality is going to change that.” You say, standing firm on what you said. Were you heartbroken to say the least? Of course. You were disappointed, disgusted, down right devastated. Yet that sliver of hope you held onto was enough to still make you have faith.

“Thank you Mingi, at least someone, my ass.” Jongho mockingly whispers to himself, opening the door, as you walk in he holds his hand out stopping you.

“Remain right here.” He says, starting up a big light, you hear it power on, lights dimming with how much energy it’s pulling, pivoting around the light trying to get a good eye at Seonghwa.

He’s sitting there with one leg crossed over the other, tea cup in hand while his sharp eyes stare at you.

“My, my, my, we have company.” He says while bringing his tea cup up to his lips slowly. Feline eyes flickering to your stagnant figure. Your body immediately begins to heat up. You knew you’d walk into one of his personalities but not one of your most favorite ones.

“Dr. Jongho, it’s always a pleasure to see you.” Setting down his tea cup on the small sauce plate next to his bed. He shifts his body, facing towards you.

“Doll, it’s been too long as well. I’ve missed you.” With a smile on his face, he looks up at you through his eyelashes before batting them.

“H-Hi.” You say with a small wave, your body immediately heats up. Your fingers pick at the skin around your thumbs, body already riddled with nerves.

“I’m going to observe you both.” Jongho states, loudly enough for you both to hear. Seonghwas eyes never lift off of you, his back is straight, shoulders are curved, lips in a small smile, his teeth just poking through. The energy that radiated off of him was alluring.

“What is it you are hoping to see Dr. Jongho?” Seonghwa asks, picking up his teacup again, legs coming undone from being crossed. He’s speaking to Jongho yet his eyes never let up on you. They remain on you, flickering all over your figure, studying you as if this observation is a test that he is willing to pass. Jongho flushed a light shade of pink, clearing his throat. He flicks through the papers before he can speak to Seonghwa; he's cut off by the man himself. Letting out a small gasp Seonghwa places his tea cup down, hand brushing through his hair before he flicks his eyes to Jongho for a split second.

“What do you wanna observe Jongho? You say quietly, feeling minuscule under Seonghwas intense stare. It was not threatening, not fear worthy. If anything it made you squirm, riddled your body with nerves. When he had this personality on the rise you tried your best to be as pristine, and elegant as possible. Nothing but the best for your mommy. Clicking his pen, he scribbles down on the stack of papers once more. Trying his best to avoid the question.

“He wants to see us fuck.” A harsh voice comes out of Seonghwa, slamming the rest of the tea back he lets out a loud groan afterwards. Frame going from cute and petite, to manly and gruff. His frame looks larger, shoulders more broad, yet a puppy-like smile on his face while he fills the room with nothing but dirty words.

“Want me to bend her pretty ass over? Or you wanna see her from the front?” He asks in a husky tone, eyes flashing over to you, watching your timid frame gawk at him. No matter how long you had been with Seonghwa you never got used to how quick another personality could appear. As you hear a small click you, look up at the ceiling watching the lights dim as the large flashing white light fills the room practically blinding all of you.

As the blinding light clears you look at Seonghwa through blurred vision. Small tiny dots fill your eye sight, blinking them away. There is Seonghwa with one leg crossed over the other with feline eyes once more.

“Fuck!” You groan out, rubbing your eyes, your body reacts fast, thumping Jongho in the back of the head. Eyes watering from the flash, you grit your teeth ready to tear him a new one when Seonghwa speaks up.

“Excuse me. When did we learn to have such filthy mouths?” He asks, eyebrow raising as he watches all the anger leave your body, eyes growing wide like a deer caught in the headlights. You wring your hands through the bottom of your shirt, that nervous feeling making a grand appearance once more.

“So-sorry.” You whisper out, body flushed with embarrassment that you had been caught in such an act. Wincing slightly Jongho places a strong hand on your shoulder before shoving you forward, you practically tumble into Seonghwas lap. His quick reflexes catch you, delicate hands placed on your hips to stabilize you. As his warm hands come in contact with you, you let out a small whimper. It had been so long since you had felt Seonghwa let alone his mommy personality, a soft hand brushes against your cheek, lifting your head slightly as you look at his sleek eyes. That familiar love and adoration twinkles just below his dark brown eyes, you swear you can see the light behind them.

“Hi mommy..” you whisper out hand coming to clutch the side of your pants. Noticing immediately he grips your balled fist, unraveling it, as he brushes over your palm. You practically fell like putty into his hands.

“What did I tell you about doing that?” He says, voice as smooth as silk. As your brain loses all of the common sense it typically holds you grow sheepish. Body flushing with an indescribable heat. As you pull at the collar of your shirt to get an air flow, it dawns on you that Seonghwa is seated in just a pair of white boxers.

“Come here.” He purrs, turning you around, planting your ass directly on his lap. His warm hands come up under your shirt, pulling the fabric off slowly, as your bra comes into sight, you get a bit self conscious as it had been over 5 months since you had last seen Seonghwa. As your arms hug you tightly, he grabs them lightly, pushing them down.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, doll. Let mommy see you.” He whispers into your ear, as your arms drop he keeps one hand rubbing your arm as his other hand goes to fiddle with the button of your pants. As he strips you out of every piece of clothing you own, you’ve never felt more self conscious yet confident at the same time. His back is firmly against the headboard, with you in between his legs, legs propped onto the bed, feet planted firmly into the soft mattress below you. Your cunt glistens under the bright white led lights that fill the small space. As your eyes flicker down to your cunt, you grow a bit flustered, you try to shut your legs as quickly as possible, growing a bit flustered under Seonghwas gaze. It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten that Jongho was right in the room with you both.

“Let me see..” he purrs out, hand coming to open your wedged legs..

“Be a good doll, and listen to mommy.” He groans into your ear. As your body warms across the front of Seonghwas chest you look at the mirror that’s boring holes into every action you and Seonghwa do.

“Is the mirror necessary?” You whine out, flustered at seeing your own dirty actions. Clearing his throat, it dawns on you that Jongho is still here and that he will remain here the whole time. Cunt fluttering, Seonghwa sees through the mirror that your pussy clenches around nothing. A small smirk on his face continues to grow as he watches your shiny slick cover your lower half.

“Be a good doll for me, and for Dr. Jongho.” He whispers into your ear. Nodding your head slightly you open your legs once more. You watch as Seonghwas eyes glimmer with need.

Laying you down slowly, Seonghwas large thin frame towers over your own. His dark hair frames his face, plump lips bitten between his perfect teeth. You are in love with every inch of this man, he could make you feel so loved one second, and the next? Nothing but a dirty whore. The balance between all the personalities was nothing short of a rollercoaster ride. The adrenaline that pumped through your veins while loving him was addicting. You had grown accustomed to this lifestyle, you were nothing but devoted to the Park Seonghwa.

“Mommy is going to fill you all the way up to here.” He says seductively as he brushes his hands over your lower belly. Poking it slightly before he caresses your lower stomach. The fleshy area his eyes are dead set on always made you a bit insecure. As he kneads your stomach you let out a quiet moan, hands coming to brush him away. When his other hand stops your motions.

“Did mommy tell you to touch her?” He questions, eyebrow raising as he drifts his eyes to look up at you. His sharp gaze makes you squirm, shaking your head no you, moving your eyes to look at his forehead. When Seonghwa got like this, it always made your head spin, you could barely hold eye contact with him as it was so intense you felt your skin prickle with nerves. Stomach doing flips while he grabs your chin lightly before telling you to look at him. Eyes low, and sultry, he glances over your body, thumb rubbing your cheek before he shifts his weight. Brushing two fingers through your wet folds, making a squelching noise before he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your arousal off of them.

“So wet, so good.” He groans at the taste of you on his tongue. Bringing his face close to yours, he brushes his fingers through your folds again, placing one finger in your mouth, and the other in his.

“Go on, taste yourself.” He whispers before sucking your arousal off his shiny finger. Placing your tongue out you take his whole finger in your mouth. Sitting up, he pulls you up before sitting behind you, shuffling his body against the headboard, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back down. Your back is firmly against his own, his warm embrace was worth a million words. Pussy on display for the room he stares ahead at the cracked mirror at the end of the bed. His dark gaze falling upon your cunt. Swiping two fingers through your folds, before he spreads your lips.

“Look at her…just glistening. Isn’t she pretty?” He purrs into your ear, feeling your body heat up.

“Mommy is going to put a baby right in there.” He says touching your stomach once more, eyes enamored and twinkling with the thought of you being heavy bellied.

With your legs spread you look into the mirror, body heating with embarrassment you try to close your legs. With a firm hand on your thigh he holds your legs open. Wet fingers digging into your leg, you whimper at his touch. His other hand comes down to grip your breast, pinching your nipple. Back arching off of him you moan his name quietly.

“Did I tell you to shut your legs?” He asks in a sultry tone, hands firm on the meat of your thighs. Slapping your soft flesh you open your legs again, his hand comes down, slapping your cunt. As his palm rises back, your sticky arousal sticks to it. Strings of clear stickiness stretch with each pull back of his hand. Continuously slapping your cunt, your legs jerk with each strike, letting out a loud mewl your body hunches over.

“Ple–please Mommy, please, please..” you beg out. Not even sure what you are asking for. As your juices drench his palm, he pulls his hand back once more, slapping your pussy a bit harder this time. With a final cry your body arches off of his warm chest, juices spraying out of your cunt. Legs shaking as your feet are trying their best to remain planted on the soft mattress. His sticky palm comes down to your pussy, rubbing small circles onto your clit, hushing you as you continue to unravel before his eyes. As you come down from your high, he eases off of your clit. Licking his palm he rolls his tongue behind his teeth, savoring the flavor. With heavy pants you lean further back into his chest. Body wet with your own slick, and cum.

“Fuck, you think you can do that again?” A deep voice rings out behind you, looking in the mirror you watch as his gaze changes, eyes flushing dark, losing that loving streak that his mother personality had, eyes lazily looking at him you barely can put together a coherent sentence.

“Fuck that, you will do it again.” Plunging two fingers deep into your cunt, he wiggles them around looking for your spongy spot. Thumb pressed hard against your clit, you let out a loud moan, legs turning into jelly and falling on the bed. As his thumb strums quickly over your swollen clit, your legs turn every way, body going through the first stages of over stimulation. A twisted grin cracks onto his face, one of his arms wraps around your waist, holding you in place.

“God, she’s so fucking sloppy.” he groans, before pulling two fingers out, slapping your cunt before diving his fingers back in. As they slam in and out of you at a quick pace you moan out Seonghwas name, nails digging into the blanket on top of the mattress. His eyes shoot over to Jongho who is standing there, teetering between the lines of being unfazed, and desperately turned on.

“Wish this was you huh doc?! I’m going to fill this pretty cunt up, having you carrying my seed around.” He says loudly, laughing booming off of the concrete walls. Your body moves whichever way he pulls you, effortlessly moving like you are a doll.

“Look at her pretty pussy, just gushing.” Pulling out he slaps your cunt once more. You let out a loud moan, head turning, trying to catch a glimpse of Seonghwa.

“Your pussy is talking to me, and does she have a lot to say.” His hand wraps tighter around your waist, his crazed eyes bore into you.

You whimper out his name, in a twisted way, this is exactly what you wanted. You missed this, you missed Seonghwa. But you missed all the personalities he had charging through him. Everyday was like cranking up a Jack in the box, you know something was going to pop out, the thrill of not knowing what exactly always made your body on edge, it made your adrenaline run rampant. This is exactly what you wanted.

“Have some decorum, trying to talk over her.” Bringing a hand down he slaps your pussy. Body quivering with a loud moan. You call out to Seonghwa once more.

“Fuck!” He groans out, bringing two fingers to collect the slick that’s dripping down your ass.

“Yunho?” Jongho questions while flipping through the papers on his clipboard making a note, the pen screeches with each drag. You catch a small glimpse of Jongho, clutching the pen tightly in his grasp, while a head of sweat drops down his forehead. A harsh slap to your dripping pussy pulls you from your thoughts.

“I really would prefer if she called me Yunho.” He purrs out, hands running down your inner thighs before slapping your cunt again. Quickly riding himself of his boxers, he positions himself in between your legs, roughly grabbing his cock he lets out a small hiss.

“Fuck have I missed you.” He groans out before catching your lips in a kiss

“She’s so fucking sloppy.” He groans out, pausing his wild thrust to spit at your pussy. The cool saliva hitting your clit. He watches as it drips down to his cock that is stilled inside of you.

His hips draw back before slamming into you with a loud smacking noise. His hips are flush against your inner thighs. His hand comes down to hold you in place by your throat. He’s fucking you like a mad man. Your mouth falls open into a non existent moan, as he’s fucking all the common sense out of your brain.

“Shiiit, that’s it. Shut your pretty mouth and take this dick.” He grits out, hand gripping tighter around your throat. With a choked out sob you nod your head pathetically, letting him have full control over you. Gripping the back of one of your thighs with his other still tight around your throat he bends one of your legs to your chest. Hitting you deeper, the new position has your hands coming up and clutching the one around your throat. Grip tight, as his eyes flood with dark lust, both of his pupils are blown wide. You’ve never seen this sight of Seonghwa, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t addicting.

“Going to give you all my babies, Fuck!” He roars out once more. Gathering all his saliva he spits on your cunt, hips never letting up on pounding you into the mattress. Pressing his body onto your front pushing you further into the mattress. His hand reaches down and wraps around your throat, picking your head up off of the bed. With drool running down your mouth, sweat covering your forehead. You look like you just ran a marathon. Voice cracking with each powerful thrust he gives you, your hands help hold your body up, elbows shaking at the intense speed he’s striking you with. Giving you a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing against yours you let out a squeak. Dropping his full weight on you, you groan out his name. Parting your lips with his own, sticking his tongue down your mouth he opens his eyes, making direct contact with Jongho who is gripping the clipboard tightly still.

“You like watching me fuck her?” He asks, voice laced with venom. Hips snapping against the meat of your ass, each thrust hikes your body up the bed. Mattress creaking with each movement he does. Pausing his thrust, he pulls your body off of the bed, locking his arms behind you, so that you sit up right. His sweaty, wet chest against your back. Your naked body once again on display for Jongho. Kissing the side of your neck, he nips at the skin, marking it with his bites. Dark hickies dance along your neck, not stopping til he’s satisfied with his work. Giving you one powerful thrust almost doubling over from the strength of it. His hips begin to piston in and out of you once more, arms locked tightly behind you back. Looking over your shoulder he watches as your breast bounces with each thrust.

“Look at that doc..” he grits out, head cocking back slightly at the feeling of your warm, sopping wet walls wrapped around his throbbing cock.

“See how well she takes me.” He says through a laugh, your body grows hotter knowing Jonghos eyes are directly on you both. As Seonghwa feels your cunt clench around his member. Hitting you with one deep thrust, he pulls you back more, making sure to arch your back even further.

“I think we have a exhibitionist on our hands Doc.” Seonghwa sings out, before slamming you down on his cock. Making sure to match the strokes to the way he makes you bounce on top of him.

“She’s so fucking wet.” He groans out, watching as your cum, mixed with own , runs down your leg. Thighs are still sticky with your arousal, the cum mixing makes loud squelching noises each time he thrusts inside of you.

“You wanna taste her?” He asks eyes flickering an even darker shade as he rag dolls you up and firm his cock, you can’t help but let out a small whimper at the thought of Jongho kneeling before you both. Letting your body go you flop down onto the mattress. As you land softly, he slaps your ass hard.

“She’s a fucking slut.” He says slapping your ass once more, grabbing the meat of it and slamming you down. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck..

“But she’s my slut.” His eyes lock with Jonghos as he’s got you hiking up and down his cock. A wicked smile breaks out onto his face, Jonghos had enough of this personality, flicking through the paperwork checks off the name Yunho..

“We’ll say goodbye Yunho.” Jongho says hitting the button on the light, a huge white flash fills the room. Seonghwa doubles over letting out a loud cry, pulling out of your spent pussy, a quiet pop is made as he pulls away, cunt instantly oozing with cum. The warm feeling runs between your legs. Letting out a satisfied sigh you cause your eyes, trying your best to mellow out your breathing.

“Look how messy you are.” Seonghwa says with a squeak to his voice, letting out a small groan you already know what personality has appeared.

“Yunho slutted you out.” he says, dragging two fingers between your folds, clit swollen and sore. Letting out a small hiss as he glides through your cunt.

“Woo please..” you say silently, trying to bat his hand away. Your eyes poke open, trying to take a peak at him. Sitting on his knees behind you he puts a hand under you, helping you roll over. As your breast comes into sight. He dives face first into your chest, mouth wrapping around your pebbled nipples. Moaning at the taste of you on his tongue, he grabs onto your other nipple, brushing a finger over it, you let out a whine. Bringing a hand up to brush the dark locks out of his face, as he continues to suckle on one of your nipples, you watch a devious smile grace his face.

“You taste so good.” He groans out, mouth full of your breast. Those mischievous eyes always have an underlying motive. As he continues to suckle on your breast, he pinches the other one a pathetic whimper leaves your throat.

“One day milk will come out of these.” He says giving your nipple a harsh pinch before attaching his mouth onto your sore one.

“It’ll be a fight between me and Yunho about who gets to try your milk first.” The thoughts of the warm liquid pouring into his mouth have his cock jumping.

“We are going to fill you to the brim, then you are going to take another load, and another.” He says with a smile, resting his forehead against your boob.

“You will be swollen with our child.” He says with glee, mouth detaching from your nipple, giving it a kiss before switching to the other. His dark eyes shift over to Jongho, a small squeaky laugh leaves Seonghwas throat.

“Wanna watch me put a baby in her doc?” He asks, voice laced with mockery. Jongho has had enough of each personality that has made its way through, they were not who he was looking for. You look up lazily as you watch him clutch the small remote, seeing his thumb flex you quickly try to shield Seonghwa, yelling at him to close his eyes.

“No, no, n-Fuck!” The flash of white light goes off again, your body falling lax once more. Letting out a quiet sigh you look down at Seonghwa, the way he fidgets with hands you immediately know who has taken over. A bright blush brushes over his face and neck. Trying his best to cover his chest up, he leans forward nose bumping yours, giving you a small kiss before snapping back against the bed.

“Yeosang it’s okay.” You breathe out, tone laced with tiredness.

“No, no, no!” Jongho groans out in frustration before clicking the button multiple times, a loud roar leaves his throat. You watch as his muscles contract, you’ve never seen this side of him before. Your eyes grow big with worry, cocking your head back as you watch as an evil grin paints Jonghos face.

“There it is! The thing of the hour!” He says satisfied.

Watching as his eyes cut, you see Seonghwas body grow bigger by the second, muscles rippling his thin frame. His eyes grow a shade of black you’ve never seen before. His pupils are blown wide, mouth open in a snarl. Your body freezes below him, a shaky hand goes out to touch his firm chest that’s rippling with a new muscle every second. As your warm fingertips go to touch the man nestled between your shivering thighs you call out his name softly.

“Seonghwa..” you whisper, eyes having a sliver of hope that he’s still in there somewhere.

“This is the beast.” Jongho states, noting down how many clicks and what it all took for him to get Seonghwa to this current persona. You can feel the deep growl resonating in Seonghwas firm chest.

“Hey…hey…I’m right here.” You whisper out, both hands coming in contact with his face. Worry fills your voice, you needed Seonghwa here and now with you. As you mutter Park Seonghwa over and over again, the Beast continues to stare at Jongho with anger flicking with each blink. His nails grow long, pinching your delicate skin, as he comes to grab your hands off of his face gently.

“Please don’t do this.” You whisper out, tears fill your eyes. Seonghwas eyebrow flickers, eye twitching with another personality trying to break through.

“Show her..” Jongho whispers out, Seonghwas ears twitch as if he was an animal at Jonghos quiet sentence. Eyed growing dark once more he lets out a growl, bed creaking as his body grows heavier with each passing second.

“Shut up!” Seonghwa booms out, this voice you have never heard before. As his large body tries to break from the grasp you have on his face.

“Seonghwa please, please, please.” You mutter out, tears streaming down your face. His ears twitch again, letting out a blood curdling roar he doubles over, panting heavily.

“Doll, please..” Seonghwa breathes out, his mommy persona rising through the darkness.

“Mingi take her out of here.” Jongho says into his walkie talkie, trying to claw your way off of the bed, to rush Jongho, he shoves you down to the ground. Ass hitting the floor with a thud, Seonghwas body snaps up, charging Jongho.

“No! Don’t hurt her.” He says through an animalistic tone, clicking the button, Jongho watches Seonghwas large figure hit the floor in pain. A loud cry comes from him, as you begin to get your breath again you make your way towards Seonghwa.

“Please don’t hurt her.” His mother persona breathes out, clutching his chest in pain.

“Stop it!” his Wooyoung persona cries out as Jongho hits the button once more. As Mingi slams the door open he’s frightened by what he sees. Your crying naked form trying to shield Seonghwa as Jongho stands large above the both of you. He was playing God. As Mingi scoops you up off of the floor, your hands try to grip anything it can to stay in the room. Tears fill Mingis eyes at the desperate attempt you make to stay in the room with your lovers. As he’s got you hoisted in the air you scream, and kick your legs.

“Put her in a room of her own.” Jongho says proudly before clicking the button again, the white flash flooding the room once more. Mingi opens his tight shut eyes, he nods carrying you out into the dead empty hallway. You thrash, attempting to scratch Mingis hands so he would let you go. Yet nothing works. You can barely look at his own sad face, Mingi knew how much you loved Seonghwa, everyone knew. It wasn’t a secret, you wanted the odd man in every way. You wanted any and everything that came with him. Being apart from him felt like half of you was missing.

“Let me go! Seon-Seonghwa!” You scream as Mingi grabs your naked body, hands slipping due to all the sweat and cum that’s cakes on your skin. Tears fill your lash line. You thrash in Mingis hold you continue to scream out for Seonghwa. Trying your best to rip out his hold, you begin to punch Mingis hands that are holding you tightly.

“Let me go!” You scream, thrashing even harder. The shame of being naked in his hold is the second to last thing on your mind. You watch from the small window that’s on Seonghwas heavy steel door. The flash of white continuously goes off. The loud cries from each personality fill your ears. Body tiring from the constant thrashing as you can hear your lovers in distress.

“I’m so sorry Y/N..” Mingi says through a whisper. Tears begin to streak down your face. Lip trembling as you let out a loud whail. Your hands come to your mouth to conceal the noise. Mingis grips never eases up as he has your feet dangling from the ground, a large arm firm around your waist.

“I hate you, I hate every single one of you in this place.” You whisper as the cries from Seonghwa go quiet.

“I hope he kills all of you.” You whisper void of any emotion. The white light stops flashing in the room and the hallway lights go out, leaving the bright red glow from the emergency exit signs to keep the dark hallway with some form of light. The sudden slam of the door to Seonghwas room startles you and Mingi. With a noticeable jump he lets go of you, your body hitting the floor, not even caring at the pain of the sting. Your body lays flat against the tiles, crunching into the fetal position. As Mingi looks down at you he fiddles with his utility belt, pulling the small flashlight from it, cutting it on he flashes it down the hallway not seeing anyone there with a loud whisper he calls out to Jongho. With no response, he looks between your crying figure on the floor, and the hall once more. Your small sniffles fill the area, adding to an eery environment.

“I hate you, I hate you..” you mutter quietly, as you hand holds your lower stomach. Seonghwa being ripped from you in more ways than one had you nauseated.

“I’m going to check on Dr. Jongho, stay right here.” Mingi whispers out, terror filling his voice. As he takes one step forward he hears a loud creak. Planting his feet still, he can feel a heavy breath on his neck. Biting his lip, tears fill his own eyes, the flashlight dropping as he’s suddenly pulled into the darkness. A loud cry roars from him before it falls silent again, not even bothering to look back, to heartbroken at Seonghwa being torn from you. Your body rocks back and forth on the floor. Still hunched in the fetal position, ass naked, with zero care in the world.

“There, there..” Seonghwa says, that soft feminine voice falls on your ears. Eyes immediately shooting at him. A large blanket covers your naked frame, his warm hand brushes your cheek. Your eyes fill with more tears, breaking out into a loud sob. Seonghwa lays down right next to you, caressing your body. As your body racks through continuous sobs you feel the muscles from the beast slowly go back into his body, his large muscular frame goes back into its original state.

“Mommas here..” he says, giving the back of your head a kiss, bringing you closer to his chest you cuddle him further.

“Mommas gotchu..”

“We got you..”

Taglist: @mingisprincesss @sanhwalvr @walkingtravesty97 @crazylittlebisexual @sheilogreen @ateezmakesmehappy @miyaluvvsyou @wisejudgedragonhairdo @star-wingz @ririnnie @ihaveaproblem98 @raindropsondragons @hongjoongsprincess @suzukialice16 @a-tiny-thing @arilevenatz @multistanisms @demonlineswhore @dij-ology @yyaurii @sousydive @itza-meee @ana-stasssiaaa @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @yunyunrin @jjoongstar @kyeos4ng @peach-bearies @bitchwhytho @spooo00oky @hey-im-charisma @tearfulsparks78 @metalheadatiny @apriecotte @aurorajoye @lola-horore-553 @ayoo-bangtan @acetruepunk @tajannah-price1 @seungminsfavoritegirlll @monstacheol @pearltinyy

DO NOT REPOST.

[swellingtidess]

i don’t get why i’m like literally the only person ON EARTH that didn’t get my spotify wrapped.

[runaeveena]

intense meta acting boot camp was actually the best decision they made for filming band of brothers because those actors truly Truly embodied the characters so much so that they physically look different from any other character they play like if i look at any picture of donnie wahlberg anytime in his career i am filled with apathy and disdain EXCEPT for when he is on screen as carwood lipton. you ask me whos my special man that i wish was my mom and i point at his potato ass head, you say "that's donnie wahlberg" and i say no that's band of brothers real life character carwood lipton and you say "bro that's donnie wahlberg he's in blue bloods" and i say no no no thats lip that's my mom and he's having speirs' baby and you say "what" and i point at real life character ron speirs and you say "is that matthew settle? from gossip girl?" but im not even listening anymore because i can't acknowledge these actors existing in anything outside of the 2001 masterpiece band of brothers and then you say "arent these real life people? dont you think youve crossed a line in how you interact with the fictional portrayal of these real people who felt vulnerable and embarrassed about the most traumatic part of their lives being made into a ten part television series?" and i say yeah that's all true, a character is bordered by an outline of historical fact that influences the way a writer or researcher who never met the man can perceive them and then mold personality traits to fit into something palatable for a story that can only try to achieve the truth because all media is art at its core. maybe the real men felt a mixture of relief and disappointment that their lives and stories were not accurately shared, and that's why there's about fifty books about them, but really the reason why there's so many people who are willing to read those books, who want to know more about these men's lives, is because the series showed us a snapshot of ordinary lives being celebrated, and those ordinary lives were crafted, honed, and acted so well because those actors did the most work they could to make each character feel alive and special. even if they weren't accurately portraying the real men, i continue, they are nonetheless influenced by them, literally taking their direction in how to behave and the final product of the show lives on as its own entity, separated from the real people, yet connected by a moment that happened eighty years ago. you nod a bit, "and that's why you're okay writing donnie wahlberg mpreg now?" and for the last fucking time its not donnie wahlberg anymore dale dye beat that name out of him for the entire duration of filming it's LIPTON

[pinkroseblooms]

Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit. 

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone. 

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite. 

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his. 

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you. 

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with. 

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.” 

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up? 

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection. 

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner. 

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him. 

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that? 

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!” 

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back. 

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips. 

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!” 

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why. 

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?” 

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit. 

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.” 

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him. 

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Hey��why did you stop?” 

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up. 

“Ah!” 

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.” 

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him. 

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!” 

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?” 

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him. 

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

PROVE IT ───

jackson rippner ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “You think you are possessing me / But I've got my teeth in you.” — ‘Unicorn’, Angela Carter

pairing. jackson rippner x reader

summary. after breaking up with your boyfriend. you meet a handsome stranger at a bar. you tell him your cunt’s better than the girl’s your boyfriend cheated on you with; he tells you to prove it.

warnings. swearing, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, porn with some plot, impact play, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 3.6k

a/n. i seriously doubt i wrote jackson’s character accurately in this so please comment anything i can improve on LOL🙏

It’s not often you spill your entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this one, this stranger with his watery blue eyes and plush lips, is oddly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It makes you want to give him everything, and absently, in your alcohol riddled mind, you think he’d make a good scammer. 

Or, serial killer, whichever he prefers really.

But it's not entirely his fault; you’re stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit your system ten-fold. 

You’re there because you’d broken up with your boyfriend the night before. You’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and you let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 

Wrong. He’d been cheating on you since he went to Copenhagen — four months, now — with a pretty little Dane that wanted to marry. 

You were furious when he told you, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but you began seeing all the differences between you and the woman he cheated on you with: she, a perfect homemaker, you, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 

“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” the stranger across from you said softly, breaking you out of your nostalgic stupor and back into reality. “‘cause he’s a right asshole. For cheating on you like that.”

The man had entered the bar hours after you did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the softball game on the bar TV, before you drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant your dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here you were now.  

You peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but you can’t tell if you actually think that, or your foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail you into next week. 

No matter, you thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of your throat sweetly, fire trailing down your insides. “M’not beating myself up,” you protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 

He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as are you.

“Well,” he inched closer, large hand sitting itself on your thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 

This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with you: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from your face, later he swiped a drop of drink off your lip, then he’d clutched you by the waist, pulling you close to him when someone squeezed past you in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in your ear. 

Then, there’s a gap in your memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt you donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in your ear was too much for your dizzy head, and the only thing you remember is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and the next, you’re pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee pushing your quivering legs apart. 

You’re trading wet, messy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up your shirt till they reach your chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching your breasts needily. 

He’s kneading you artfully, fingers pawing at your flesh like he’s never felt something so soft, so plump. Your back arches as he does this; you’re practically putty in his hands. 

It doesn’t slip past you that you’re being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom you don’t know the name of, but you don’t care. “Please,” you beg, his name coming up completely blank on your tongue, “please.”

“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, one of his hands moving from your breasts up to your jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to your neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”

You’re too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so you whine instead of answering, your weak fingers carding through his brown locks. 

“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”

His words make your cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes your core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to your problems all night telling you you’re just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got you all hot and bothered. 

“Please,” you beg again, more desperate than before, “I need you.” 

The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 

He had noticed how your legs clenched around his knee, how your breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how your fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 

You bit your lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed you by the waist and turned you to press your face against the wall. 

One of his arms then draped across your shoulders, pinning you down and arching your back, hard, making your ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, and you could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face. 

He can’t be that big, right? It was just your drunk mind, making him feel bigger than you thought through his shorts. Plus, you hadn’t been fucked in over a month — you were probably just not used to it. 

Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something. 

However, these days, you’ve learned that you don't have the best intuition. First, with your boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 

“Oh, fuck,” you cursed, head straining to look at him behind you. Unconsciously, you shyly closed your legs at the sight of him. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between your legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”

The two of you were flush against each other, and you could feel his hard length resting between your legs. Just that, just him between you, already had you trembling in anticipation. 

“Then fuck me already,” you bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, you were thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, you, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when your boyfriend made his routine visit. You were a loyal girl, alright, and your fingers never went as deep as any cock could.

But the moment for you to reveal your worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.” 

Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of your ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on your cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom. 

Your breath caught in your throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and you flushed. Thank god you were pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to your burning face. 

He’d spanked you, and you fucking moaned. 

“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of your panties. 

“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against you, your folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

He slowly slid in and out against your folds, his cock just barely grazing your clit, and you swore you could have screamed. The way he was teasing you was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous. 

“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing circles on the skin of your hip. 

You let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” you squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked your tight hole. 

“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into you. 

“I came here to…” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground your thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“

Then, the loudest keen you’d ever heard tore out of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into your soaking cunt. 

He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching your knees buckle and your mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on your ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 

“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking you like that. 

But the way he insulted, complemented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had you shuddering; never in your life did you think such dirty words could make you so wet. 

You barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout your body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how your walls squeezed around his cock had you barely coherent, your face taut with pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for you to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into you, and another helpless groan rolled off your tongue. 

“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing you against the wall shifted, now covering your mouth. 

Before you could protest, he slid out, then snapped into you. Immediately, you saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past your lips. 

“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little fuckhole’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast you could barely comprehend the ecstacy you were feeling. 

“Oh my god,” you barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of you relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for your moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into your sweet cunt. 

Then, the both of you heard the bathroom door open, and you froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing you by the waist and planting you on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on your mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from your throat: this new position of you on his lap had his long length pressed right against your cervix.

“Now you really gotta be quiet, honey,” he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. You shut your eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting your mouth. 

“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on your shoulder, laying his head on your back. 

The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips and help you slide up and down on his cock.

Your eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” you said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving  your mouth, but you were completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure you felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on. 

“Shh,” was all you saw him say, as you strained your neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.

Without his hand to muffle your groans, you muffled them yourself, biting down on your tongue. One hand of yours gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep your balance, and your other hand sneakily traveled down to your wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at your clit. 

He noticed this, however, hand gripping at your wrist and pulling you back to pin your arm behind you. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”

You let out a shaky exhale at his words, but you found your cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of your skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did you really get more turned on by what he’d said?

Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside you exited the bathroom entirely, and you belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked you up and pressed you against the wall once more, this time facing him. 

He plunged his big cock into you like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into your hips you swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into you, not even a fucking meteor. 

You, on the other hand, were arching, the pleasure taking your body over completely. Your hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into you. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time. 

Your tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like you were made with his fat length in mind, and it drove you up the fucking wall: the pain in your hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and your orgasm began to spill out from under you. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.

“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Your cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like you were afraid he’d never come back to you. 

You nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of your words. 

He grinned, and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into you. Your toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past your slick folds. 

One of his hands lifted off your hip and trailed across your lower stomach, “Can you feel that, honey? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge. 

Both of you were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and you a feverish mewl. You couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on you from the outside. 

Suddenly, you remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before you dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, under the name Jackson. 

You face grew taut, your orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across your face. “Jackson! Jackson, please,” you moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on your tongue. 

“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged you through your orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. 

It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within your insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout your entire body like you weren’t already being fucked relentlessly. 

“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning into rest his head against your chest. You were weak, sensitively riding out your high, but you knew Jackson wasn’t quite as close. 

His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling your walls against every inch of him. Your head rested beside his own, your eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation. 

Despite your orgasm, your cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both your skirt and his pants. It made you tremble, thinking of you two tiredly exiting the bathroom, disheveled and having to cover the other up. 

At this point, you didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting your mouth, with Jackson’s grunts and groans covering up your whines completely.

“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”

“You do! Jackson does!” You exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of you quicker and more jolted. “Jackson owns this pussy!”

Jackson grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within you. He clenched his jaw, piercing blue eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of your cunt squeezing him for every drop. 

You were so fucking full, and even when Jackson pulled his softening cock out of you — which, was still huge despite its idleness — you felt stuffed to the brim. 

His come dripped down your leg, and he promptly pulled your panties up, patting your worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good honey.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to your neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”

“Told you so.” You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking you to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within your own, clasping tightly. You didn’t really mean round two - though, you wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking you - you actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead you.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through you cheekily, pulling you close to him. 

So, you did go home with him, and in the morning you laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, counting the freckles on his face.

His eyes fluttered open when you shuffled. “Were you watching me?” he said, voice low and sleepy. 

You nodded silently, your hand coming up to pet his skin comfortingly. After a beat passed, you asked the question that was bothering you all morning. “Jackson, you wanted to fuck me first, right?”

He blinked, tense for a moment, before smoothing out his expression. “What?” he opted on saying instead, sounding every bit clueless and entirely convincing.

Not convincing enough for you, however. “Baby, you think I didn’t notice the shots you were calling over and inching toward me? I was drunk, not stupid.”

“Are you saying I took advantage of you?” He said darkly, a side of him otherwise unknown to you ‘till now. 

You raised a judging brow. “No need to be offended. I wanted to see where it was going to go: ‘did the handsome stranger want to fuck me, or did he want to kill me?’.”

He pulled you close to him, his arm snaking around your hips. “So, what are you saying?” he said, pressing a patronizing kiss to your forehead. 

“Hm. Well, I jus’ wanna know if this is a one nightstand.”

“And you don’t care about the - drinks, the “taking advantage” part?”

You let out a laugh. “I was confident, darling; I keep pepper spray and a pocket knife in my purse. Even if you did - which you didn’t - I’d make it out alive.”

Jackson bit his lip, looking up at you. This had meant to be a one night stand, considering the job he had, but you were looking at him so sweetly, so accepting, like you secretly knew what he did for a living and wanted him despite it. 

“Not a one night stand,” he murmured, leaning into your touch. 

You beamed, and, later, when you did find out what he did for a living, you merely cocked your head. Thought about it… outweighed the pros, the cons, (and the fact you were completely right: he was perfect, but also a fucking sociopath), and merely shrugged. 

“Honey, you’ll never do anything to me. Why should I care what you do for a living? Just don’t,” you warned, staring at him like you could and would fucking kill him, “cheat on me.” 

You didn’t have the best intuition. And, as it turned out, a great moral compass, either. 

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[spncvr]

waiting room | s. reid

summary: spencer can't seem to escape the girl in the waiting room

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of reid's addiction & tobias hankel, mentions of kidnapping and mass shootings (in, like, a joking way??) my terrible, terrible humour, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE LMAO, this is deffo terrible, pls tell me if i missed anything!!

a/n: ok idk if i wanna continue this and make it a series so lmk lol (also im on writers block so i literally can't come up with SHIT)

SPENCER REID WAS a pessimist.

At least, that’s what he’d call himself. His colleague, Derek Morgan would most likely (and by most likely, he means, definitely already has) call him an overanalysing introvert. But in Spencer’s defense, there has never really been a good reason to go out and “live your life”. Consider this:

Go to the new coffee shop? Mass shooting.

Go to the mall? A child gets abducted.

Leave the apartment for a short while? A stalker finds out where he lives, kidnaps him in his sleep, and, in a nightmarish turn, auctions off his organs to the bidder in the black market.

Besides, his life isn’t some John Green book. There were no life-affirming adventures or poetic moments of self-discovery awaiting him. Carpe diem? A fanciful notion for others, but for him, not so much. Sorry, Mr. Keating.

Yet life—or more accurately, bureau protocol— had its own plans. Ever since the Tobias Hankel incident, a visit to the psychologist wasn’t just a request but rather (unfortunately for him) an order. Which meant, he’d have to risk his entire life to get up and walk for ten whole minutes just to sit and wait, in this glaringly bright waiting room, when he could have stayed at home and read the new books he’d gotten from his team as a get-well gift.

Speaking of which, why the gifts? He was fine. Physically, at least. But really, when have you ever seen get-well-soon cards in an asylum? Well, alright, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. A visit to the psychologist doesn’t mean he’ll be institutionalised—but then again, Spencer Reid was never one to wear rose-tinted glasses. 

This is his third time in the waiting room, and she’s always there. He isn’t sure as to why she is, because, well, unlike himself, she was very clearly an optimist—and at least, from the looks of it, she hasn’t been kidnapped and drugged in the past month. But she's sitting there again, in the exact same chair for the past three weeks, along with a beacon of smiles where joy usually fears to trend. Maybe, he isn't as good of a profiler as he’d like to think he is.

“Dr. Reid?” the call of his name rips him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see the same kind woman he’s seen the past three weeks—not the one in the waiting room, no, he means his therapist.

Dr. Brown was easy to profile: She wore heels to make herself look taller, and she hated wearing glasses, apparent by how she would continuously place them atop her head instead of her nose. Her teeth were abnormally perfect, which meant, she’d had to wear braces when she was younger—which (from his humbling experience) means she wasn’t exactly the most popular at school. Perhaps, psychology felt appealing to her because she could help people like her. 

“How are you?” she asks, her pen clicking.

Usually, he’d offer her a meek shrug. The kind that could win awards for its commitment to non-commitment. Besides, he’s not one to talk about how he feels—there isn’t much to say, anyway. And let’s face it,  “How are you?” in the grand tapestry of human interaction is almost as genuine as a three-dollar bill. And, get this, the average person asks “How are you?” 6,739 times a year but only listens to the answer about half the time—well, okay, maybe those numbers might have been fabricated, but isn’t the sincerity behind the question also made up? But instead of telling her all this, he remembers what Hotch had told him, one, two, three weeks ago: that he ought to cooperate with Dr. Brown or the board won’t be happy. So, he kisses his teeth before he says:

“Fine. I’m fine.”

And the session went on.

PLS TELL ME IF I SHLD CONTIUE OR NOT LOLOLOL spam my inbox with ideas I BEG.

[hunkledunk]

I'm seeing a number of people defending the use of a logitech controller being used in the Oceangate sub claiming it's totally normal for heavy machinery to be controlled by such devices and I feel the need to yell from the rooftops that, while it's faaaar from the worst factor at play here...

NO, IT IS NOT ACCEPTABLE TO USE A BUDGET THIRD PARTY VIDEOGAME CONTROLLER TO DRIVE A SUBMARINE

Listen. I hear you. You can use a commercial videogame controller for a lot of surprising things. They're ergonomic, incredibly easy to use, highly familiar to a massive portion of the population, very adaptable to pretty much any system you can slap a usb drive to, but do you know what they're not?

Reliable

They're made with cheap parts and are NOT built to last. I've had to replace dozens of videogame controllers for multiple different systems and for a variety of reasons. Compatibility issues, degrading input accuracy, unresponsiveness, all the way down to plain old wear and tear. Shit, I had to replace a dualshock 4 controller this month because holding directly up on the left analogue stick would have the input wavering 8~ degrees left or right.

I watch a castlevania speedrunner on twitch who uses the Logitech f310. It's an extremely similar model to the one used in the Oceangate sub. He talks about having to replace it every couple of months because they wear down so quickly. These are not devices made to steer one of the single most dangerous vehicles humans have ever created. Let me reiterate, even professional videogame players and speedrunners don't trust their controllers to last longer than half a year at best. Not that Mango is going to be using the sub to practice his tech skill but it says a lot about how temperamental these things can be.

The fact that it's got those little dongers on the analogue sticks for more precise movement should tell you everything, really. They recognise that the accuracy of that thing simply isn't good enough. It's not even a digital input modifier like hitbox controllers have, it's a cheap ass 3d printer looking plastic cone on a third party video game peripheral. It's not a budget issue either. If they needed more accurate fine controls the could've gotten a steering mechanisms with more accurate fine controls.

There's so much wrong with the Oceangate sub that it's a miracle anyone thought it was a good idea. There's no seats. You're bolted in with no way to open the sub from the inside. All the controls are digital with no mechanical backups. There's no distress call system. There's no black box equivalent. The one porthole isn't rated for depths even half as deep as they're going. Communication is demonstrably unreliable. All issues way more likely to cause a catastrophic incident. I would be surprised if the logitech controller specifically was the root cause of this one incident but don't let the truly comically bad engineering of the sub in almost every other sense trick you into thinking that it's acceptable for such an expensive and dangerous vehicle to be steered by a device many wouldn't trust to control mario with a consistent level of precision.

[riordanness]

pick up lines - [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.4K

warnings: none

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA