#slight language

[ask-kimerako-therapycarpool]

well, what happened?

[He sighs and clears his throat before speaking,] Anyway... we were out to watch a pretty light show because it was a deity holiday today, because why not? I love me a colorful light and fireworks show. And before we knew it, there were some red and purple flames heading towards exactly our way! It was moving fast right at all of us! At least we got out of the way, but it doesn't even end here! Then Neon just shows up, asking us if we were okay— [He remarks next with an irritated grumble,] —he sounded as if he suddenly cared again out of the blue since the "rescued from the void" situation. Others mes asked if he had anything to do with it, but he just disappeared and didn't answer! I don't know how, but I knew there was some threat nearby, so I stayed right where I ran, all ready to fight... and then some small star stickers just started hitting me and sticking on me! I couldn't even get those damn things off!!

[baker-chan-senpai]

happy new year

[aventurineswife]

Reader speaks sometimes in their native language when they are frustrated/excited/in the middle of a rant switch languages. And it intrigues Aventurine, who secretly starts to learn the language too, just to listen in secret.

One day, maybe during a light argument between them, reader drops a cuss word that does translate to "f*** you" and aventurine takes this moment to reply, while grinning from ear to ear "oh? Youre offering for once?"

Stunned silence.

Reader starts freaking out in their native language while aven just stands there with that shit eating grin.

Established relationship. No, they never done the deed, but he wanted to catch reader by surprise, and he did. He so proud of himself.

“You think you’re clever, but just remember: I’m one step ahead”

Summary: You and Aventurine are sharing a relaxed afternoon, and a playful argument about his so-called "inspirational mess" turns into teasing banter. When your frustration leads you to mutter in your native language, Aventurine—who’s secretly been learning it—seizes the chance to tease you in return. Caught between embarrassment and laughter, you realize he’s been one step ahead, and Aventurine is all too proud of himself for the surprise.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Playful Banter, Lighthearted Argument, Language Barrier, Teasing, Humor.

Waring: Slight Swearing.

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY REQ!! I LOVE IT HONESTLY!! 🤭 (As someone's who's native language is not English, this is very funny and cute at the same time🥹🤧like imagine your s/o learning your language just so you can communicate freely or learn what you have been saying 🤭🫶💖🥹)

You’re both lounging around his suite on a lazy afternoon, a stack of paperwork untouched as the conversation somehow spirals into an easy back-and-forth about each other’s quirks. It’s all lighthearted and playful, but it doesn’t take long before you’re teasing him for his incredibly deliberate way of never quite cleaning up his cards and dice, always keeping them just a bit scattered, “for inspiration,” he claims.

“Inspiration, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Well, maybe my inspiration would be higher if I didn’t trip over your cards every time I’m here.”

Aventurine raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m telling you, darling, you can’t rush art! It’s all about atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere?” you scoff, switching to your native tongue as you get more animated. “More like a mess that you just want me to overlook!”

He smirks, feigning offense. “My ‘mess’ is a masterpiece—unlike someone’s habit of muttering incomprehensibly every time they don’t get their way.” he teases, with that knowing look in his eyes. He’s clearly waiting for you to switch languages again.

You roll your eyes, slipping into your native tongue almost instinctively. “Maybe if you weren’t so infuriatingly full of yourself, I wouldn’t have to mutter at all.”

Aventurine chuckles, his grin only widening. “Full of myself?” he repeats, pushing back just enough to keep the mood light. “Look who’s talking—every time you walk into this room, you practically take over.”

“Take over? Oh, please,” you huff, slipping deeper into your language as you mutter, “if anything, I’m saving this place from turning into a pigsty.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the right moment, and finally, you let slip a particularly choice phrase—a cuss word that, in your language, translates a little too directly to “fuck you.”

He seizes the opportunity, his face lighting up with a triumphant grin. “Oh? You’re offering for once?”

The world goes still. You blink at him in shock, the realization dawning as your mind scrambles. He understood you—completely. Your cheeks flush, and before you can help it, you’re sputtering in your native language, tripping over words and trying to make sense of how he even learned it.

Aventurine just stands there, that infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face, arms crossed in satisfaction. “Surprised?” he drawls, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Turns out you’re not the only one with hidden talents.”

You start freaking out, half-laughing, half-ranting in your language, swearing at him all over again. He just chuckles, standing back and drinking it all in, proud as ever for catching you off guard.

“Oh, please,” he says with a chuckle, “keep going—I’m starting to enjoy these rants.”

You cover your face, torn between embarrassment and laughter, and finally shake your head. “One day, I’m going to get you back for this.”

He leans closer, his voice low and challenging. “I’ll be waiting, darling.”

[welcometogrouchland]

I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry

[tac-the-unseen]

Stalker König

CW: talks of mental health, concerns not taken seriously, stalking, talks of Guns, Reader is doing their best, you better be ready to Google the meaning of flowers 💕

Your eyes shift to the oven's clock.

1:23 am

You huddle in the corner of your kitchen, silently crying, and shaking with every bone of your body. You desperately clutch a kitchen knife while praying that….that thing goes away.

For the past three months the shadows have been terrorizing you. You Know that when you look into the dark, something is looking back at you. Everybody you've talked to has told you, you were crazy. You've been called paranoid, and a few days ago someone called APS on you. They'd decided that you weren't in any immediate danger, but said they'd come back to check on you.

Tonight you couldn't sleep. Your body shuddered with terror with just the thought of closing your eyes. It's been a combination of little things that has built to this.

At first it was just small things going missing. Pens you left out, the sticky notes you doodled on, jewelry you didn't wear often. In fact the only reason you noticed things of yours was going missing, was because you wanted to wear a particular pair of fancy earrings to a company event. You looked for 30 minutes before just wearing another pair.

Then your favorite book disappeared. After a long day you were really looking forward to reading that book in bed before you passed out. But when you entered your room, the book wasn't on the shelf. You looked up and down, but you couldn't find it anywhere. You throw one of your other books across the wall out of frustration and left it there for the night. When you woke up that book was gone too.

Then things you've never owned started to show up in places you frequent. A red beaded bracelet you've never seen before showed up next to your kitchen sink. That new lipstick shade you've been wanting to try, You found it in your medicine cabinet when you went to brush your teeth. All that is spooky at best, but what really frightened you was a single bullet left on your office desk.

You told your boss you were sick and went home for the day…or at least that's where you told him you were going. You went straight into a public area like the women of your past have told you too, if you think you're in danger.

Kidnappers never take their victim in a crowded area.

Safer in numbers.

Cry, scream, kick, but never stop fighting.

You walked into a casual sit down restaurant and spent all night looking up what kind of bullet you were clutching in your palm.

A 9mm, just a small hunk of metal.

But you've never even held a gun, let alone own one.

You want to believe that a coworker accidentally dropped it on your desk, but it was perfectly placed. It was set up underneath your computer monitor, just out of sight for those passing, but when you sat down at your desk only you could see it.

This was deliberate.

This was not a coincidence.

But why? Why would you leave a bullet on someone's work desk? Is this a death threat? Is someone threatening your life? That thought alone made you crumble faster than you expected. You fought back tears while trying to think of who you might have pissed off.

The Receptionist you at your office? All you said was that you wouldn't be attending her baby shower. And anyway she got her revenge by ‘accidently’ eating your lunch.

The Uber driver you gave two stars too after he made a creepy comment about your chest? He just gave you a one star review a few minutes after.

That one girl in highschool that didn't like you? She peaked in highschool, you doubt she'd have the guts to pull off this stunt.

By the time you're ready to leave, it was night. You felt the fear fraying at your edges, the shadow’s non-existent eyes watching you, so you called one of your friends to pick you up.

You faked being drunk on the ride home. When she asked you about work, you said that they cut your shift without telling you and that you didn't mean to get wasted.

You're not sure she bought it, but she never brought it up.

When she pulls up to the house, you thank her, and pretend to stumble out of her car. She made sure you got inside before leaving and you haven't spoken since. But you couldn't worry about that now.

Your paranoia creeped in and made you check every corner of your house. Afterwards you crashed onto the couch and watched Judge Judy until you fell asleep.

When you woke up one of the blankets from your bed was wrapped around you.

You don't remember doing that.

You've never done that before. That panic in your stomach quaked and you got up to do another search around your home.

You found nothing, but called in sick anyway.

Two days later, and back at the office, you were clacking away at your keyboard when one of the mail distributors knocked on your door. The carrier was 17 if you remembered right, he was one of their nicer carriers. He was always kind to everyone in the office and was always telling jokes.

This time instead of carrying a letter or a stack of files, he was holding a large bouquet of Coral Roses, Anemones, red carnations, and Heliotropes. It was a gorgeous assortment of warm tones with just a little cool tones to balance everything.

“Caught someone’s eye?” The boy asked playful. You stand up to accept the gift. “Does it say from who?” You ask curiously. “Nope, just that it's for you.” You pick up the flowers and set them onto your already crowded desktop. “Someone has a secret admirer!” The boy teases and chuckles at his joke. “At least they're not cheap. I've delivered flowers to people before, but nothing this big before. Who ever it is, they really like you, or really need something from you…” he pause for a second “Well, it's a nice jester non the less.”

“I suppose it is…Tell you what, if you snag me an extra muffin from the community breakfast tomorrow morning, I'll make sure to update you if anything else comes up.” you hold out your hand to him. He thinks about it for a second before shaking your hand. “Deal!”

By the end of your day, you gently placed the flowers into the passenger seat. You've spent all day thinking about the flowers and who sent them. Just like the bullet, you didn't have a clue, But it was still nice to be appreciated like this.

No one's gotten you flowers before.

Because this was your first ever bouquet you dislodged some flowers and tied them upside down into your closet. You also persevered some in salt. You put the rest of the flowers into two glass bottles with some water.

You thought about persevering more, but you felt like that was a bit excessive. Besides you don't know where or who they're from….what if they are from the same person that left the bullet?

Those are two very different messages…

Soon enough You begin to spiral down a rabbit hole of anxiety and theories. deciding to (hopefully) sleep it off, you crawl to bed and bury yourself in your blankets.

Suddenly your body jolts you awake.

Through the sleepy haze you don't know what caused you to wake. You look at your phone, that You apparently forgot to charge, and realize it's 2:56 in the morning.

You try and rack your Brain for an answer to your sudden consciousness.

Then you hear it.

Glass.

Glass sliding across the floor in another room.

You look at your phone again.

3%

You figure it's better than nothing, plug it in, and dial 911.

“911, where is your emergency?” A female voice asks through the phone. Then your breath hitches in your throat.

Yes, you know Where you are. But you don't know Where the danger is. You don't even know if there is danger. And even if you did the house is silent, any noise you make could alert whatever is in your house.

You quietly breathe over the phone and slowly lay back down.

“Hello? Is there anybody there? This is 911, what is your emergency?” The woman asks.

You just breathe over the phone and quietly as possible.

“Is there something there that makes you unable to communicate?” The woman asks, finally understanding.

You hum a quiet yes, As inaudible as you can manage.

“Okay. I'm going to find you using your phone's pinged location. I need you to stay on the line with me so we can find and help you, okay?” she asks in a more hushed tone.

You just hum again and strain your ears trying to hear any sound.

You realize that the glass sound has stopped. And quiet footsteps start shuffling around your home.

You can hear doors opening and closing.

Soft breaths.

It's then you make another realization. It's now right outside your door. You can see two large shadows on the bottom of the doorway.

In a panic you turn your phones volume all the way down and hang up. You slide your phone back onto your night stand and pretend to be asleep.

And just in the nick of time too.

Your door softly creeks on its hinges.

The air is still and heavy, making it almost impossible to breathe.

You know you have to keep an even and low breathing pace. One of the tips you picked up in health that randomly stuck in your brain is that sleeping people use less oxygen.

If you wanted to sell this fake sleep, you'd have to force your body to deprive itself of its most valuable resource. Only for a little bit. Just until whatever, whoever is standing in your doorway leaves.

It moves forward

You only know this when they step on the only creaky floorboard in your room.

Whoever is in your room is dead silent.

You have to remind yourself not to furrow your brow when they continue their movement.

The air is still again

It lingers

You hear the sound of fabric shifting and stretching right next to you.

The terror in your chest scratches at your ribs when you feel the gentle movement of your hair sliding behind your ear.

You have not idea what to do.

What do you do?

You rack your brain for what normal people do when they sleep.

Snore? No, if you start now it would be a dead give away.

Mumble? Mumble what? What do people mumble in their sleep? Nothing you can come up with on the spot, that's for sure.

You decide to make a bold move and as lazily as you can shift your body's position.

That's what people do.

You push deeper into your pillow and raise your knee to about stomach level. It's a totally normal sleep position and almost everyone moves in their sleep.

A knot in your stomach churns. You fucking hate yourself. What if they don't buy it? What if you're digging your own grave? For fucks sake you don't even know if the intruder is armed.

The intruder chuckles softly and the shifting of fabric once again is dangerously close.

You think they just stood up?

Whatever, if they're moving, they're likely leaving.

Suddenly you can hear the faint sounds of sirens. They sound only a few streets away.

Your admirer clearly hears the same thing and swiftly makes their move out of the room.

It still terrifies you how quiet they are.

You hear the glass in your hallway slide once more only followed by the sirens getting much closer.

It's only when you hear a pounding at your front door and the announcement of police, do you peel open your eyes and take a deep breath.

When you reach over to retrieve your phone do you feel something else touch your hand.

You readjust your vision and your eyes widen.

A flower

Or flowers

Bright, vivid red flowers.

One stalk, several flowers.

They take hours looking through your home, questioning you.

They tell you to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

Like you'll ever sleep again.

You put on shoes and walk to a late night convenience store and wait out the stars there. You explain yourself to the cashier and they let you loiter in the store.

But you can't keep the flowers out of your head.

Your phone is only at 28% so you don't have much time to mess around on there.

It takes about 8 minutes but you finally find the flowers that were ‘given’ to you…

Red Salvia…

You really weren't crazy…

Thanks for reading <3

Totally forgot I wrote this.... My bad gang...

Also don't worry about the inconsistencies, I wrote this like 6 months ago and only updated a little bit.

[yrsonpurpose]

You know, it's not too late to get out of here and fly to the Maldives. Tempting. But I think it's time I stood up for myself.

[sk-yay-sk]

I've gotta say I'm not a huge fan of putting Dragonese into the HTTYD movie franchise. The concept of a full-on dragon language they all share, that can just easily be translated into English, just really doesn't fit imo

I imagine they're a lot more like Orcas

There are universal ways to communicate with strangers of different species, like it's pretty easy to signal things like "i want to fight you" "i want you to leave" "it's dangerous here" "i'm in pain" etc. by just body language and vocalizations- but ways to communicate more complex ideas have to be developed and learned as unique dialects by different groups, especially flocks of dragons consisting of different species.

I imagine a terrible terror flock or a group of Speed Stingers have a lot of an easier time communicating with each other than a Thunderdrum and a whispering death do.

Dragons with their own dialects, cultures, and habits depending on location and group is really cool- I just don't think it should be a direct translation of how humans do these things, such as straight up language or mythologies or such.

[sparkleresthold]

A Vosian princeling and Tarn's tiniest miner (they're best bros)

Some info about them:

-Starscream used to be a bratty royal from Vos, while his older sister Slipstream was the City's Commander. He lived a life of privilege and his main concerns were beating his own speed records and hanging out with Jetfire.

-When the Autobots unleashed the war throughout Cybertron, Vos fell quickly. Perhaps too quickly. Rumors of an inside job spread shortly after. Slipstream mysteriously disappeared when the fighting was at its worst, and Starscream became separated from his brothers amidst the chaos in the city.

-Star's memory files of whatever happened afterwards were corrupted. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled out of a pile of rubble by Soundwave and Shockwave. The life he had known before was reduced to ashes, along with Vos itself and he had the Autobots to thank for that. He joined the Cons right away, seeking revenge.

-D-16's origins are a complete mystery. Miners are mass-produced and have massive, bulky frames. They don't have a "sparkling" phase or are known to reproduce. Yet, Soundwave found him in drilling away in an abandoned mine while scavenging for Energon.

-As Soundwave has the habit of picking up strays, of course he dragged him back to base.

-Starscream's first real "mission" as a Decepticon was taking care of D-16, which he found humiliating. Soon enough tho, he became overprotective of the younger mech. He reminded him of his lost brothers.

[violetmuses]

Complicated - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Complicated - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Armando Aretas meets you for the very first time during Mike Lowrey's Zoom Call.

@peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex @readingisahobby @kindofaintrovert @nelo0wesker @gg-trini @cloveroctobers @twinklestarslight @episodes-ff @nobodygetsza 🏷

Part II ❤️‍🩹

======

2024

As time drifted and choices settled at last, famed Miami Detective Mike Lowrey fell in love with Christine, an experienced physical therapist.

Christine also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery that took place years back.

“All set!” Joining tech genius Dorn in this parked truck, you stepped back from Mike's gorgeous wedding to confirm an important Zoom call now.

“Thank you.” Mike nodded in your direction while expressing gratitude this evening.

“Of course. Now, Dorn and I will get out of here before… You abruptly stopped talking when the signal picked up first.

Shit!

Scoping the view of one guarded cell, red tape locked remote communication between Mike and his estranged son, criminal Armando Aretas.

“This is my wife Christine.” Mike took charge and your nerves calmed down from within.

“It's great to meet you.” Christine faced the screen and offered this kind smile while beaming through one perfect dress.

“Who's that?” Wearing this orange uniform, Armando questioned the sight of more guests after meeting Christine.

“Dorn.” Mike still introduced this member of the AMMO team.

“Not him.” Revealing that slightly accented English once more, Aretas clipped the phrase.

“Oh!” Mike realized the point and turned around, acknowledging your nickname instead. “Rook joined the squad recently.”

“Hi.” Greeting Armando, you stayed cordial for many reasons.

“Hey.” His voice clipped between moments of silence.

“We should go…” Christine reached out to hold your hand and prompted Dorn to begin leaving as well.

Just when you could step outside with Christine, one voice echoed from the computer:

“Wait, hold up.” Aretas caught himself and Mike nearly chuckled before this trade ended.

[snowmoonwrites]

Break Me Softly

Tokyo Debunker fic. Pairing: Kamurai Jin x MC/Reader

Smut, D/S, praise kink, got wholesome by the end, safewords, safe sane and consensual

It was one of the free nights that the academy allowed. Given that it was for a Halloween party that was organized off-campus with the Kamurai family’s money, it was near impossible not to allow students to attend. Aside from the academy it was also open for many more prestigious schools too, of course all participants were subjected to a thorough background check. No reason to put danger onto the general students’ life, or irritate the ghouls.

That’s how you found yourself in a, honestly, quite revealing dress which maybe could be said to resemble some witch outfit… but there was too little fabric for you to actually be sure about your assessment. Not like it mattered. The place is probably going to be reasonably dark to encourage students to dance. Maybe if you planned on bringing anyone back to your bed it would matter what exactly you are wearing. But, given that the only person you would want to bring back won’t be there, even though his family sponsors it… It really didn’t matter.

You have been in a relationship with the King of Ice for enough time to know that if Tohma didn’t physically force him out of his room, you will be left alone the whole night. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t the first it happened. You were a big girl.

That was what you said to yourself while drinking definitely non-alcoholic drinks and dancing with random people. It was quite a nice night. Then, over the shoulder of your dance partner, you saw the annoyed glint of icy-blue eyes drilling a hole into the boy. You didn’t even remember where he was from. Neither were you interested. But this. Oh, that dangerous glint in Kamurai Jin’s eyes. That started a fire in you. And you just loved to play with flames.

You let your hands caress the stranger’s shoulders as you leaned in closer, till their ear, little by little. Your body moved closer to his, pushing your breasts against his chest in your near-nothing clothing. Keeping up the eye-contact with Jin the whole time. In a blink he was next to you. You weren’t sure whether he used his sword, or he just walked really fast. Not that it mattered. In a second you were buried in his chest as he rumbled into your ear.

“We are going to my room.”

As usual, it was far from a request. Not like you cared in that moment. You were on fire, and the murderous gaze that he showed your dance partner only fanned the flames higher. In seconds you were back in his room, the chilly temperature not even registering on your heated skin. He sat on his bed, all nonchalant seeming now that he had you where he, but in reality you both wanted.

“Kneel” came the irrefutable order fueled by the sliver of skin contact left between your hands. 

You immediately dropped to your knees. Waiting for what he has planned for the night.

He looked at you, refraining from touching you for now.

“Was it fun?”

He didn’t have to elaborate. Your little scheme to set the fire of jealousy in him. Your little idea, which worked perfectly. You were actually pretty proud of yourself. It might have shown up on your face as he let out a chuckle.

“Shall I remind you who you belong to?” He didn’t wait for your answer as he reached out one elegant hand to make you look up at him. “How many do you deserve for this? One for each time that you touched him?  Answer honestly.” 

Your breath hitched. It was actually difficult to answer. Not because you didn’t know what he meant, but because you were so focused on Jin, you don’t even know how many times you touched that insignificant boy. You let his command wash over your memories, finding an acceptable answer for you.

“Twenty?”

His smirk got bigger as he let go of your chin.

“Get your upper half on the bed.” 

As you got into position, he lifted your skirt and let his fingers dig into your ass in a massaging manner to avoid causing serious harm. Once he was satisfied he got up from the bed.

“Count them out. Colour?”

“Green,” you breathed out. The second it was out of your mouth, his hand also came down in an arch onto one of  your cheeks. You yelped out, then remembering called out “One.”

With each slap you grew more conscious of the silence aside from your breathing and the sounds of the spanks. Jin didn’t say anything. As if he wasn’t even there. As you let yourself sink into the repetition, the burn, and the pleasure his absence was striking. He was never one to speak much, but he always let his presence known. This was punishment greater than ever.

By the tenth slap you were sobbing. Not from the pain. But from the culminating feelings. You couldn’t let yourself go like this. Stress coiled up in you as he refused to be more present. 

Another slap. “12”

You could feel yourself on the verge of panic. You couldn’t take this like this. As if it was someone else. If this went on you would lose yourself in a drop. But you were aware enough still.

“Yellow,” you cried enough. In the next second everything stopped and Jin sat on the bed in line of sight. Yellow: pause and discuss. He reached his hand towards you, not touching you yet. The ball was in your court now.

You grabbed his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You felt his straining erection but knew he wouldn’t do anything until you gave him consent for anything more than cuddling. He gently stroked your hair and back with one hand while the other rested on your hip. He waited until your breathing returned to normal before asking anything. 

“What went wrong?” Never one to mince his words. It was reassuring in itself. He didn’t sound angry. Not even a slight irritation in his words remained from the start of their evening.

“I… You weren’t there,” it was hard to put into words, the absence of him. You tried again, “You weren’t talking. I couldn’t see you. As if it could have been anyone else,” your eyebrows furrowed, you were still frustrated with not being able to convey it perfectly. His petting soothed you when he hummed in acknowledgement.

“Let’s change it up then princess, hmm?” He maneuvered you onto the bed completely, lying down with you. 

“How about I edge you three times for the remaining punishment and then fuck you till you beg me to stop?”

You felt blood rush two-ways in your body. Up to your cheeks at the idea, and southwards to reignite the sundering fire. You nodded your head silently.

“I need words baby.”

“Yes, sounds good. But, can you kiss me first?” You felt undeniably shy, hell he just spanked you, you were in the middle of talking about him driving you close to insanity with his magical hands and tongue and glorious dick. And here you are, shy about asking him for an innocent kiss.

“Good girl,” he praised you as he closed the gap between your lips. You let yourself melt into the kiss and enjoy the fluttering you felt at his praise. He knew he could make you putty in his hands with just a few praises. And he was right, you were so weak for them when they came out of his mouth.

The mouth that started to wander downwards, peppering kisses onto your neck while his hands unceremoniously ripped your dress from your body.

“HEY! I liked that dress,” you complained playfully.

“No, you didn’t. I’ll buy you better ones,” he answered nonchalantly before biting one of your nipples, making you yelp back the retort that you would have made just to be difficult. He smirked up at you, looking halfway to ridiculous with your nipple still in his mouth. His hand found your other breast and started playing with it just the way you liked it.

He alternated between gentle fondling and tweaking your nipple while he worked the other with his skillful mouth and tongue. You let out your voice to encourage his ministrations, knowing no one would hear you outside the room. One of your hands buried itself into his silky locks, pulling him as close as possible.

As his mouth traveled down, your flush reached towards him as well, not just your cheeks, down until your chest you had flushed due to his attention. When he reached his goal you twisted your free hand into the sheets. Oh how he knew just what to do to make you lose your mind.

He pulled down your panties, as if they had personally offended him. Immediately after he moved your leg to have more space. As he licked you in a long stripe you whined. This much stimuli, while feeling good, was nowhere near enough while in his bed. He chuckled at you, then flicked your clit before sucking on it. He alternated between fucking you on his tongue and playing with your clit until you were nearly sobbing with pleasure. But you knew it will get so much better and worse.

Just as you were close to reaching your peak. As your breathing became incredibly fast and moans left your mouth unrestrained.

“Jin… I’m close.”

You warned. And all touch ceased. You were left on the verge. Flexing your thighs to feel a little bit of relief, unsuccessfully. 

“One down. 2 more to go dear. Colour?” He caressed your cheek to get your attention.

“Green.” You smiled up at him. Even while being punished, like this you could never forget the love you hold for this man. And he never let you forget that he loves you too, you could always feel it in his gentle caresses like now, that let you calm down before he once again put an onslaught of pleasure onto you.

He pecked your lips as his fingers moved downwards. His mouth once again found your nipple while his fingers caressed you at first. His thumb circled your clit before one elegant, long finger got inserted into you. He pumped it experimentally a few times before adding another.

“So good for me,” he praised you while picking up the pace of his fingers. He crooked them just enough to hit your G spot in every inward thrust. When he also resumed playing with your clit, you knew this would not take long to get on the edge again. And you were right, just a few minutes later, or were they seconds, you grabbed his head to pull him up towards you. Just by a glance at you, he knew you were close again.

He once again stopped playing with you, but his fingers remained inside you, keeping you open. You whined and tried to move your hips to gain even the slightest friction that might send you over the edge. His other hand pinned you down, and you whined in frustration.

“You are doing great. One more and I will gladly fuck you until you come again and again,” he rasped into your ear, thrusting his clothed cock against your thighs once to let you know how much he wants you. He knew what his words can do to you. Even the slightest praise could make you hot and bothered for him.

And thus, once again, the second you calmed down a little, his fingers started moving in you again. His tongue started playing with your clit, intent on driving you as fast to your peak as possible,  just to stop before it once again. Thankfully, it was the last one. As you stopped before your peak again, you thought you were close to losing your sanity. You might have just pounced on Jin and rode him till he couldn’t cum more. Maybe tie his hands up too, while you were at it. Maybe another time, you thought as he stripped. As he positioned himself above you, you caressed him, showing your appreciation, your love. He kissed your palm as he slowly entered you, making sure not to overwhelm you at first.

When he sheathed himself fully into you he still waited for you to nudge him. He knew well he wasn’t one of the smallest guys, and that was also true to his nether regions. While you would sometimes enjoy the slight pain, today he instinctively knew it wasn’t one of those nights. Not after the misery he caused you accidentally.

When you had enough of waiting, you lifted your hips to thrust back into him. He immediately started thrusting into you slowly. So slowly it could have been described as torture. You whined at him and let your nails leave marks of your annoyance on his back.

“Want more?” He thrusted in with a bit more power.

“Please.”

“With pleasure,” he whispered to you as he picked up the pace.

You loved him like this, when he was close to losing his composure to pleasure, as he was thrusting into you, pulling you both under a wave of indescribable feeling. Verging on the line of love and pleasure. As he found your sweet spot again and pulled you closer and closer to the edge. When he reached down and started playing with your clit again, you gasped even louder than so far.

“Jin… I’m close… Can I?” You asked in between gasps. 

“Yeah, cum for me.” He deliberately aimed at your weak spots, urging you to fall over the edge.

With one last twist of his hips and a stronger stimulus to your clit your back arched as the orgasm rushed through you. Your cunt spasmed around him as he thrusted into you faster, fucking you through your orgasm.

“That’s my good girl.” You looked up at him, slightly oversensitive. He was close, you knew from the furrow of his brows as he tried to hold out a little more. You whined at his praise. You pulled him impossibly closer with your legs. Pulling him down in a kiss in the meanwhile.

“Cum in me, please,” you whispered into the kiss. Loud enough for him to hear over your mingled breaths.

“Fuck, you are gonna be the death of me baby,” he grunted as he pistoned into you, chasing his orgasm in your sensitive body. Pulling you close by your hips as he thrust one last time and let himself go in you. He was a sight in his orgasm. As his lips gaped just a tiny bit in a soft moan, as his eyes closed in pleasure. You were sure you could find no one who was more beautiful in this moment, not like you would go and search for someone else, when you were in his bed. You weren’t completely stupid.

When he came down his high he pulled out of you, making you groan softly from his absence. He kissed you before starting to get up.

“Good girl. Wait for me. I’m bringing a towel.” You nuzzled into his hand that caressed you, like a satisfied cat.

He came back promptly, with a damp towel in one of his hands, and a bottle of water in the other. He gently toweled you down before doing the same to himself. Then he gathered you in his arms, making you slowly gulp down mouthfuls of water. When you moved your head away from the bottle, nuzzling into his chest, he drank the remaining water before laying down and cuddling with you. Gently caressing you, he murmured praises to you.

“You did so great today. My good girl.” He kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips with each praise. You sighed, content after the evening. Humming, you lifted your head to bring him into a kiss. A different one from the ones before, not passionate now, but loving and sleepy. The one people share just out of love, to express their feelings.

As you got comfortable against him, sleepiness came fast. Your eyelids became heavier with each passing second. Content, satisfied, happy, you let yourself murmur against his skin. 

“I love you Jin.”

“I love you too,” he murmured back, kissing your lips one last time. “Go to sleep.” He pulled you even closer, acting as your heater in the admittedly cold temperature of his dorm under the blankets.

That’s how you fell asleep that day. Held in his arms, warm, and loved.

[hotsodax]

Spent like 5 hours yesterday with putting english subtitles on this swedish video from 2006 about MCR and the emo subculture

[bedforddanes75]

truly one of the most beautiful pictures of him

[w3ndytheraccoon]

u/awholelottaspoon

Am I the asshole for killing my teammate ?

This is going to be very long. My friends and I had been thrown into this hunger-gamesque death game that was cut up into “sessions” that lasted a few hours where we have multiple lives, but the twist this time was every session, there would be a “wildcard”. The wildcard sounds exactly like what it is, a special thing that usually makes our lives harder. Now, I’m not proud to admit this, but I was the first out, during the fifth session. I thought that was it, I died, then I’m out of the game and I’ll wake up in my bed, waiting the next time the eldritch beings decided they want me in another death game, but no. This time, I wake up in a dark void instead, and it only became more confusing when my friend and Teammate SM joined me. So we sit around and waited for a while, until one day, we were pulled away violently. Like, ripped away from the void and we woke up back in the game, and considerably weaker than we were before. Turned out it was the seventh session, and the wildcard was everyone had a superpower, and we were brought back because one of the powers, ZC’s, was necromancy. Fitting, considering they’re an undead, and I wonder what power I could’ve had, or her power if no one died, but I digress. Since they brought us back, we had to follow their orders, simple enough. Strangely though, our first order was to go “throw the lamest insults we can possibly manage” at our friend (bestfriend, in my case) and only teammate alive left, G. He was so happy to see us it actually made me feel abit bad when we made fun of him. Turned out, G’s power was that he could copy anyone’s power for five minutes, so after some discussing with his new temporary teammates and us, he copied ZC’s power and brought us back, which means we were under his control instead. It was all fine, until we died again and was brought back by ZC. She wasn’t happy, to say the least, and declared us traitors. Since we were at her control and our “lives” depended on them, we denied all fault and blamed G instead. She thought about it for a moment, then said we had to kill him. Well, orders are orders. Between me and SM, I decided to do it. I approached him, told him ZC said we can stay with him for abit, and he was visibly very happy about it, which did not help my guilt very much. When he had his back turned while he was fishing, I burnt him using lava and then got out my axe and hit him with it until he died, which prompted GT, one of his then teammates who was nearby, to killed me as well. G wasn’t very happy about it when he came back, he killed SM and me and called me a “filthy traitor” as he did, which, once again, did not help my guilt. It felt even worse when I was finally back to thankfully not the void but my home instead, since the session ended the moment I died, and SM cracked a joke about us being “bad teammates”. I’m sure he was referring to the fact we were bad at staying alive and were bad teammates to ZC and her allies, but it felt different after what just happened. The game is over at the moment, we’re all back home and G and I are cool now, but I can’t help but wonder. At first I thought since it wasn’t my choice, I’m not in the wrong, but the more I think about it, the more options I realised I could’ve take, like failing on purpose maybe. My friends told me that while it was slightly traumatic, it really wasn’t that serious, even G himself, but am I the asshole ?

[localsamalicer]

Average Sam and Alice shenanigans

[subliminalbo]

The Pleasure Method

This is a continuation of Return to Office

It was simply dumb luck that Futurum stumbled into their newest tech. The Conditioning Initiative was a success, but its limitations were beginning to show. If the goal was to create the perfect workplace free from distractions or inefficiencies, the next step was for associates to embrace the Initiative in every phase of their lives. This was why R&D shifted to The Pleasure Method.

The Pleasure Method was reversed engineered from hardware discovered in a sorority house basement near Carpenter State's campus. Futurum recovered a treasure trove of hypnotic media files from a hard drive in the basement, but the files themselves weren't fundamentally different from what the company had achieved with The Conditioning Initiative. What really fascinated researchers were the testimonies culled from members of that sorority. From the firsthand accounts of formerly brainwashed Alphas, Futurum developed a program consisting of a set of stimulants delivered audibly, visually, and physically all at the same time.

The power of sexual stimulation in subverting a subject's will had been documented in the past, but Futurum's interest was in testing its absolute limits. In their deprogramming, the sorority sisters recalled being hypnotized and fucked senselessly. Deprived of sight and sound from a pair of noise cancelling headphones and VR headset, there was nothing left to focus on but the feeling of soft hands on sensitive flesh, wet tongues rolling over aching clits, and thick silicone cocks penetrating deep into any hole they could fill. The sorority sisters were programmed to desire only this feeling. After several hours of unceasing stimulation they would do anything in their waking minds to feel that level of pleasure again. A pleasure so powerful, so intoxicating, so complete that it could even drive a person to cast off their free will and enter into mindless obedience.

The Pleasure Method was a more sophisticated apparatus than the crude setup recovered in the Alphas basement. R&D had long rooms filled with rows of examination chairs where subjects were strapped in and treated to days—not simply hours, but days—worth of sexual stimulation. Each chair was called a Pleasure Station. Mechanical arms loomed above every station, bolted to the ceiling and fitted with long, motorized silicone rods for vaginal or anal penetration. Regular electric shocks were delivered through a subject's nipples to maximize the body's capacity for pleasure.

All of this was conducted under deep hypnosis. Audio files droned in a subjects ear, reinforcing messages of submission. A large visor was bolted to the chair's headrest. It lowered over the occupant's eyes, projecting a synchronized light display which capacitated the subject while they absorbed the directions which filled their ears. Subjects were fed intravenously so that they could remain under The Pleasure Method for days.

The end results were a monumental step forward from the simple subliminal messaging of the first phase of The Conditioning Initiative. The Pleasure Method had been one hundred percent successful in shaping Futurum associates into re-writable worker drones.

The applications for the workplace were endless. The efficiency crisis that had plagued offices since the pandemic couldn't just be solved through The Pleasure Method, Futurum guaranteed that no energy would ever be wasted in an office or a factory or a boardroom ever again. The future of work was mental conditioning, and the key was sexual pleasure.

You would be hard pressed to find a better example of this than No. 14. Privately designated Shelby Irving, No. 14 was a graduate student at Carpenter State University who had worked on the initial stages of The Conditioning Initiative as part of a summer job program. When No. 14 returned the following year, she dutifully submitted herself for processing at a Pleasure Station. Though Irving still a student at CSU, No. 14 accepted a full time job as a researcher in Futurum R&D, assisting in the processing of new subjects. Despite balancing two full time jobs, the new perspective afforded to No. 14 by her conditioning made her exceedingly efficient. She had difficulty transitioning between both worlds every day.

Sometimes No. 14's worlds would collide, though, like when she was tasked with processing a new recruit who studied in the same rhetoric program at the school. On Irving's recommendation, Josie had applied for the summer work program. By the time she stood naked before a Pleasure Station, she had undergone initial hypnotic conditioning through Futurum's new on-boarding program. That conditioning only slipped when Josie was strapped into the chair.

No. 14 inserted the IV into her arm.

"Shelby?" Josie squeaked. She had awoken to the sound of a dozen subjects undergoing their own processing. The subjects' thoughtless moans filled her ears like a ghoulish chant.

It wasn't uncommon for a subject's conditioning to fail during preparation. This only proved the need for a more permanent solution to The Conditioning Initiative.

"Shelby, please!" Josie begged, but there was no recognition in No. 14's eyes. "Oh, god!" she cried as the mechanical arm dropped down from the ceiling, the longest dildo she had seen in her life just inches from her pussy. "What is that?"

"It is advisable that you remain relaxed through the preparation process," No. 14 instructed. Her glassy eyes floated from the terrified expression on Josie's face to the mechanical arm in front of her. When they moved back to Josie, they lingered on her soft, round tits jiggling with each sob. A subtle, nearly imperceptible twitch of No. 14's eye displayed a potential hiccup in The Pleasure Method: that subjects could be molded and trained, but an increased desire for sexual satisfaction could take them at any minute. This time, however, the desire passed, and No. 14 continued with her programmed duties.

"Subjects find the pleasure distributor to be extremely arousing," No. 14 explained. "The artificial phallus is lubricated to ensure minimum discomfort during penetration. It will be a pleasurable experience for you."

"Fuck you, Shelby!" Josie cried. She pulled hard at her restraints, but she couldn't shake the straps free. When Josie knew that she couldn't find her way out, she tried to appeal to the friend that she knew from school.

"Shelby, please," she pleaded again. "You have to fight this! Whatever they've done to you. I know you're in there. I know you're still you."

But No. 14 was unmoved by Josie's pleas. She slipped the noise cancelling headphones over Josie's ears and lowered the visor plate over her eyes, a neon glow illuminating along its rim as the program took effect. Josie released a sharp, surprised gasp when the pleasure distributor entered her pussy. It started with slow thrusts and picked up speed as her body produced more natural lubrication. Her pleas quickly softened until there was nothing left but a hungry moan that was indistinguishable from the rest of the noise in the R&D room. Slowly, Josie's voice became another part of the chant.

No. 14 was practically dripping as she watched Josie become No. 500. With that same little twitch of the eye, she came. It washed over her so silently that an observer would never know the level of pleasure firing through No. 14's body.

If she had a thought left in her head, it may have been that she fucking loved this job.

[alexandraisyes]

Hey guys, here's a reminder that if queer people are allowed to reclaim slurs against them and POC people are allowed to reclaim slurs about them then so are people with ASPD.

We are allowed to reclaim the terms sociopath and psychopath because we are the people those terms are targeted against. If you don't have ASPD? You don't get to have an opinion.

Everyone I've met and conversed with who also had ASPD are comfortable with the terms sociopath and psychopath being used to describe clinical ASPD.

Saying that we are not allowed to reclaim the term because you personally don't agree with it? Good for you, but you're not the one being stigmatized against. You don't get to have an opinion about this because you are not the one being affected by it. Stop being offended for other people who are trying to make the world a kinder place for themselves.

Empowerment and Ownership: Reclaiming a term can be a way for individuals to take control of a label that has been used to stigmatize or dehumanize them. By owning the term, they can redefine it on their own terms, reducing its power to harm.

Challenging Stigma: The terms "sociopath" and "psychopath" are often used in a derogatory manner and can contribute to the stigma around mental health disorders. Reclaiming these words can be a way to challenge and change the narrative, promoting a more accurate and compassionate understanding of ASPD.

Creating Community: Reclaiming a term can foster a sense of solidarity and community among those who share similar experiences. It can help individuals with ASPD connect with each other and advocate for their needs and rights.

Promoting Awareness and Understanding: By reclaiming and redefining these terms, people with ASPD can raise awareness about the disorder and its complexities. This can lead to greater empathy and understanding from the public and professionals.

Rejecting Misuse: Reclaiming terms can be a way to reject the misuse of these words in ways that are harmful or incorrect. It can help ensure that the terms are used in a manner that is respectful and informed.

Affirming Identity: For some, reclaiming these terms may be a way to affirm their identity and experiences. It can be a way to express pride in who they are, despite societal prejudices.

If POC and LGBTQ+ people get to reclaim terms used to stigmatize them then so do we. Denying us of that because you don't personally agree with it is rude, and calloused, and I'm going to fucking say it, borderline ableist. These words are not for you, they are for us.

And I choose to have pride in who I am instead of letting people ridicule and demonize me for it. I'm a clinical sociopath, I have ASPD, and people who don't have ASPD are going to have to fucking accept that because they are not me and they do not get a say in this.