#so what the FUCK else is wrong with me???

[pacofprunes]

DARK / TOXIC SQUID GAME REACTIONS TO YOU TRYING TO LEAVE THEM

CONTAINS — namgyu x reader, thanos x reader, myungi x reader, inho x reader, sangwoo x reader, saebyeok x reader

WARNINGS — toxic relationship, domestic violence, baby trapping, manipulation, guilt trip, prepare yourself for namgyus that’s the worst probably, mentions of suicide (thanos)

masterlist

THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI-SUBONG — manipulates you / would let you leave and crawl back to him

doesn’t take it well at all. he’s going to laugh and think you’re joking, but after realizing that you’re not, he’s quickly going to scream at you. telling you that you’ll never find anybody better than him.

“do you really think anybody else will want you? if you leave me you’ll never find anyone else. you’ll never find anybody better!”

he’ll start breaking shit. punching walls, shit, he’ll even break your own phone if it’s in arms reach. if you still insist on leaving he’ll say he’s gonna overdose. he tells you that he’ll kill himself if you step out that door while pressing a blade up to his arm. if all else fails, he’ll totally act like he didn’t just beg you to stay and scream at you to go then and not to come running back.

“fine bitch, go ahead and leave! but don’t come running back to me for nothin’.”

in reality, he’s definitely stalking your socials, making fake accounts you haven’t blocked him on, stalking your friends accounts to see other photos of you, visiting the club every night (not that he didn’t already do that) to try to see if you’d show up. after about a month or so of doing this and going out and fucking other girls to get over you, he can’t do it anymore. he’ll send you some fake heartfelt text that he probably used ai to make and call you while making himself sound like he was crying, trying to make you feel bad and convince you that he’s changed and that he can be a better boyfriend. if you fall for it, you’re doomed. the relationships only going to be a million times worse than before. instead of knocking glass over and breaking shit, he might slap you. in public, he might grip your wrist ten times tighter, scared you’ll run away. when he finally lets go, his fingers will be embedded in your skin. he might even guilt trip you into getting a matching tattoo with him. “if you really loved me and forgave me then you would.”

if you really don’t go back to him though, no matter how many times you block him, you’ll get a new video sent to your phone from some unknown number of him fucking a new girl. he sent you the videos in hopes of making you jealous or something. he’s not going to stop for a long time. if you don’t go back to him, he’s going to harass you for the rest of your life. and if you do go back? you’re in for a world of hell.

NAMGYU / PLAYER 124 — would threaten you, would actually harm you

“you’re one funny bitch. you know how much shit i got on you?”

he finds it admirable, honestly. but still, fucking hilarious, that you, you, think you can leave him. what? when did you grow some balls? yeah, no. you just hurt his ego and that’s about the stupidest thing you could ever do to him. he’s not very empty with his threats. if he says he’s leaving? he’ll leave. (for like a week…) if he says he’s gonna hit you? you’re gonna be bruised for a while. if he says he’s gonna kill you? well, you haven’t gotten to that point yet. but keep this up and you sure will.

he keeps every nude and threatens to release it. sure you’re his and all, but that doesn’t stop him. so what if some other guy sees your body? he could care less. now if another guy touches you? let’s not think about what would happen. threatens to send the pictures to your family and threatens to send every sex tape of you two that he filmed behind your back.

“what the fuck is wrong with you namgyu? when the fuck did you film that?”

don’t raise your voice at him. once he hits you and you fall to the ground, he’ll keep kicking at you with his foot over and over until he thinks you’ve had enough. don’t speak up to him, don’t speak against him, and don’t piss him off. just sit there and be pretty, okay? he’s going to be bolder now. next time you two have sex he’s just going to shove the camera in your face. he’s going to manipulate and force you to take nudes for him since you don’t want to anymore after he threatened to send them out. sometimes he’ll force you to strip and then he’ll just take the pictures himself. all in all, sometimes he might just say no and leave it at that. but if you keep pushing, he’s going to threaten you. and if you still keep pushing, he’s going to go through with those threats. you really are just some whore to him, don’t think he’s above killing you.

MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★— would let you leave and crawl back to him (except he’s the one who crawls back), babytrapping

“really? fine, if that’s what you want then leave.”

he acts like he doesn’t care because he thinks his annoyance will make you turn right back around to him. he acts like he doesn’t care because he’s trying to not get so bent out of shape about it and move on quickly. but when he hears your footsteps disappear and the door shut, he immediately balls up his fists. you seriously left? he didn’t expect that, but whatever. he doesn’t need you.

he tries to move on but after barely even a week, he can’t do it. he contacts you, but when you block him, he makes more and more numbers. he thought you’d be running back to him, not the opposite. he sends you pictures of you two together in hopes you’d change your mind, but when you just keep blocking him, he’s knocking on your door demanding you open it up. he tries being nice but when you don’t open it, he starts banging on the door. really? you’d been together for months and you’d already gotten over him? no. no no no. you don’t get to just move on! what the hells wrong with you? when you still don’t open the door, he leaves and goes back to his place and sits on his bed while he ponders his next move. he decides for now just to stalk your page and harass you from more and more numbers. he’s not going to stop until you at least respond. oh, you’re gonna get a restraining order? you’re funny. you think that’ll stop him? don’t go back to him. if for some reason you give in, the next time that you two have sex, he’s going to make sure that you can’t leave. he’s sure that you’ll look so pretty with your stomach swelled up.

INHO / YOUNGIL / PLAYER 001 — straight up says no / baby traps / makes you feel like you’re going crazy

straight up, no. you want to leave? no. he doesn’t even care for an explanation on why, you’re not leaving. completely ignores your words and changes the whole topic. everytime you try to say you’re leaving he just completely overrides you with something different.

“inho, i’m serious. i’m leaving you! i’m packing my shit right now and i’m not coming back, i swear to you.”

“what did you want for dinner again? i have to go back out to get some groceries so there’s not too much…”

maybe it’s on purpose, maybe it’s not. but it makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. then he will deliberately go out of his way to make it seem like you’re crazy.

“i’m leaving because of what you’ve been doing behind my back, inho. it’s fucked up and you’re insane.”

“baby, you could follow me around tomorrow. i’ve got no idea what you mean.”

and he says it all with that stupid small polite smile that he gives everyone. you just want to strangle him. if somehow he can get you in bed with him after you just got so pissed, he’ll be more passionate than ever. he’ll treat you nice, focus on your pleasure before his and then quickly when you’re blissed out, he’ll pull out of you, slip the condom off and slide right back in. you don’t notice at all, but he makes sure to tell you like the cocky fuck he is. but he does it while he’s thrusting and when you can tell he’s about to cum. poor you, it’s too late to stop him :(.

“i’m about to fuck a baby in you — agh, i — i took the condom off. gonna have a beautiful—fuck—fucking baby with you.”

how could you leave now? do you have enough money to take care of a child without him? and would you really deprive your child of their father? you’ll get an abortion? he’ll find a way to keep you locked up in your house. you’re still going to leave? he’s going to guilt trip you to the max. and if that still fails? once again, he’s just going to find a way to keep you locked up in your house. he’ll figure it out as you go on, but for now, have your happy little family with him.

KANG SAE-BYEOK — straight up says no

she’s not going to entertain you at all. she might not even say no, opting to just stay silent instead. if you get in her face about it because she’s ignoring you, she’s just going to push you away. if you keep nagging her about it, she’s going to slap you. if you decide not to drop it, she’ll drag you by your hair and lock you in a room. are you stupid? don’t start this shit first thing in the morning.

“saebyeok, this isn’t working. we should go our separate ways.”

“no. did you hit your head or something?”

you should just drop it and move on with your day. nothing you say is going to convince her and if you piss her off too much, like said before, she’s just going to lock you away until you stop sounding ‘crazy’. she’s very cold, but she’s generally pretty nice to you still though. she’s a good girlfriend to you, just a little possessive, but it’s never gotten out of control. you just didn’t think the relationship was working and that it just wasn’t the right time. all in all, if you don’t push to much, you won’t see the shitty side of her that she never shows you. however, if you keep pushing the idea, she’s going to give you a real reason to break up with her.

SANGWOO — would let you leave and crawl back to him

“you want to break up? fine.”

it leaves you shocked at the sound of him not caring. it was as simple as that. you want to break up? bye then bitch! it hurt. it almost made you want to change your mind and say never mind and just stay with him, and that’s exactly what he wanted. that’s exactly why he said it like that. but that didn’t work and you just walked out the door. that’s fine though, you’d come back to him, he knows it.

he makes sure to post old photos of you two on his Instagram. not ones with your face in it, duh, but he posts the photos that you took of him where you’re behind the camera or ones where your arm or your hand is slightly showing. he knows you still stalk his socials. he’s posting these knowing that it’s going to hurt your little heart and make you crawl right back. he leaves every photo of you two up on every platform, not deleting a single thing. for a little while, he even keeps his pfp the same. you two holding hands. whenever he posts something, he always makes sure to put something in the caption that he knows you love. you liked tulips? he’ll put a tulip emoji in the caption. you loved cats? he’ll put a cat emoji in his bio. all these subtle things where you won’t know he’s doing it on purpose, but it’ll be so much of a coincidence that you’ll think this is a sign to run back to him.

he’ll tell his friends to ask about him to you whenever they talk with you.

“how are you and sangwoo doing?”

“oh he talks about you all the time.”

he tells them to act like they don’t know that the two of you have broken up. he makes sure to get in your head and eventually? you’ll come running back. if for some reason you don’t, he might have to pull some strings. spread some rumors about you so that your friends want nothing to do with you and so all that you have to run to for comfort is him.

[star2fishmeg]

i can’t even lie i’m the biggest fan of angst to comfort with luke, could you possibly do something with that💕:)

His door opens cautiously, curls unruly and slept on, t-shirt crumpled but when his sleepy eyes fall upon you, he stands up straight, instantly flattening his hair with his palm and opening the door wider. He can't decide whether you look miserable or relieved, your lips quivering yet your shoulders are perfectly relaxed. Hell, he just woke up from a nap, he can't decide anything.

"Y/n? What are you doing- I thought you were going on that date?" he croaks, voice husky. He steps aside, allowing you to shuffle in and remove your shoes.

You're inside a safety net. You feel your eyes well and meet Luke timidly. His face softens, strong arms engulfing you, and suddenly, the world falls silent, and the wall you built crumbles in his hold. Your ear presses to his chest, the tears falling from your eyes soaking into his t-shirt. His grip tightens, his hand stroking your hair delicately.

"...I cancelled. It's over. I made the wrong choice, Lu." You cry with a breaking voice, but you're crying and let the emotions pour out your chest with heat flushed to your cheeks, "I'm such a fucking idiot."

If hearts could physically shatter, Luke's would have. Into a million finite pieces on the floor. His feet start moving backwards, yours following his guidance until his knees hit the sofa, pulling you onto his lap, swinging your legs over and cradling your body to his chest.

His words are gentle and thoughtful, his tone calm and his heart thunders in his chest. You've come to him. Expected considering you've been good friends since college, but you came to him for comfort. "No, no, you're not an idiot. Talk to me, I'm all ears. Why'd you cancel? You were so excited."

God, you hate that he was right. You were excited. The butterflies, the compliments, the dates, they were fun, they felt good, filled with adoration. Yet, the guy never felt right. Like an imposter, like you were supposed to be sharing those moments with someone else, someone who loved you regardless of anything. Someone who actually had an interest in you.

"I thought about it. I thought I was excited but turns out not about the guy, he’s not…he’s not anything to me. All the fun little dates were exciting, spending time and just, I don't know, being part of these other couples around me, but honestly..." your sobbing stutters as your tears roll violently down your cheeks, but it's hard to fall apart when Luke's cradling you so securely.

You tilt your chin up, peering up at him with red eyes but he's already gazing at you. He brushes loose strands of your hair out of your face, with such a featherlight touch it feels like he's sporting a halo above his head. He cups your cheek and his thumb soothing over your cheekbone slows your heartbeat back to stability.

"I wasn't as excited anymore after I left you the other day. It kinda just...faded. I thought I'd give it a chance but...I couldn't. It wasn't the same, Luke." You calmly confess, gaze shifting to his lips before back into his eyes, those forever glossy eyes you find yourself unable to look away from. The eyes that only ever pay attention to you and you know that you've seen that.

He swallows hard with flustered cheeks, "So, you dressed all pretty just to come here?"

"Wanted to see you..." it takes a moment for you to process his words, his touch against your skin so gentle it's intoxicating and has your brain dizzy. With a voice above a whisper, "You think I look pretty?"

Luke nods slowly but surely, licking his lips and searching your eyes for something of an opportunity. His stomach flutters and he's certain, certain that he knows where this is headed and that he can finally find peace within himself.

"Always, since I met you. Miss you every time you leave. Jealous whenever you went on a date. Wanna be with you all the time…just want…you."

Your fingertips lightly press to his jaw on instinct, "...you were the right choice. But I was scared of...ruining us."

His lips pull up into a small smile, chest blooming with warmth and it's as if the world has burst into colours. He's only ever dreamed of this moment, where you're in his arms and telling him that this whole time, you've felt something back. You thought you'd cry again, yet the smile on his face only encouraged your own, fingers sliding down his neck to tangle in the curls at his nape.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, m'right here. All yours, I've got you." He leans in, and you're leaning in too like magnets until soft lips meet for a tender kiss. A genuine one that's closed mouth and long-awaited with yearning.

When you both pull away, gazes locked, hands on each other, he dips back into you, passionately this time and you're keeping him in, close. You had your suspicions, yet what were you so afraid of if Luke's feelings were blatantly obvious?

[tinythebunni]

Can we get some pope x bitchy!kook princess reader (maybe with some bimbo/hoochie R) headcanons I love that fic babes😘🩷

Pope usually never has this problem with you. You’re a bitch to everyone else, never him! He wouldn’t call you a bitch ever but there’s no other synonyms which could correctly describe the situation you’re putting him in.

Since two mornings ago you’ve been in a grouchy mood. You woke up that first day with him facing away from you so you did what any upset girlfriend would do! You used your foot to push him off the bed. Confused, he woke up with a start and looked at you. But all you did was huff in reply and pull the blankets over you.

When he got back up to get into the bed, you turned over and pointed a perfectly manicured and sharpened nail at him.

“if you wanna keep those two balls you got swinging down there, i suggest you stay down.” you snapped. He looked at you but there was not an ounce of hesitancy in your eyes.

Pope sighed and got up, it was 9am anyways. As he left the room to make breakfast he briefly hear you mumble something. He assumed it was just you going back to sleep. As he finished making you both breakfast he walked up the stairs. He neared the bedroom door but saw it was closed. He set the plate down on a table in your hallway, raising a knuckle to knock at the door.

“Wait a fucking minute!” You yelled, frustration evident. He had no idea what he did wrong but he wanted to fix it. fast.

You opened the door after 2 minutes and Popes eyes lit up. “baby” he started as he walked over towards you to hold you. But then as he got closer he did once over of you and he finally saw what you were wearing. You had on a mini skirt he forbid you to wear and a crop top that barely hid your perky nipples from the public. The heels you had on clacked against the floor as you pushed past him and walked away.

Pope was sure he looked like a fish out of water right now. Probably a fucking silly sight to see. Closing his mouth and running after you he reached you before you could get to the door. He pinned you against the wood and made you look at him.

The height difference had your thighs clenching everytime you noticed it, and he noticed the effect it had on you. Trying to keep his mind in check he focused on the issue at hand. “What the hell is wrong babydoll? Tell me what i did please.” He begged, tilting his head to seem more apologetic. You almost gave in, but something changed. You scoffed and shoved him, which did nothing to move his strong frame. “A man thinking everything is about him, classic.”

You tried to get around him but to no avail. He got tired of this game and flipped you over his shoulder. He walked back to the bedroom this all started in with you kicking your feet and pounding at his back.

“Let me down you fucker! I didn’t do anything. This is America and i have free fucking will you bi-“ he shut you up with a swift slap to your clit, the moan that crawled its way out your mouth making him smirk.

When he finally got inside the room, he put you on the bed carefully, but with enough force to let you know he was mad.

“You’re not leaving this room until you apologize and act like a big girl so i can know what’s wrong.” You just stared up at him, letting out “hmph” and turning your head away from him.

“fine. we can’t act like a big girl? Then i’ll treat you like a lil kid. Go stand in the corner.” Your eyes looking up at him with defiance made him only more firm in his stance. He used his strength to pull you to your feet by your forearms. Poor pulled you close and whispered. “Go stand in the fucking corner. ‘m not bullshitting here. Do it, now.” You followed his directions with your head looking down at the floor, a blush in your cheeks, and sluggish walk.

you don’t know how long he made you stand there but eventually your knees got weak and you fell to the floor, kneeling on accident. Before you could get up, he was already there. As if he was watching you, and he was. His eyes never left you.

“Learned your lesson?” Pope asked, rubbing the back of his hand across your cheek. You nodded, leaning up to try and kiss him. “Nuh uh. no kisses for you. Not until i know you’re my good girl again. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

you stood there, staring at your feet. How could you tell him you didn’t know what was wrong? “well?” he asked, getting impatient as he watched you fiddle with your hands.

“don’ know Po. I just wanted some attention” your voice withered as you pouted, tears welling in your eyes from embarrassment.

“Oh my poor thing. I’ve been neglecting you?” with your head nodding yes, he sat on the bed scooped you up in his lap, so you were facing him.

“don’t worry, imma make it all better again. Like daddy always does, ‘Kay?” you stared at him, head already cloudy from the lack of distance between you two. His hand reached up to pull your chin between his fingers, using it to forc you to nod. Pope pulls you closer, finally letting you get the kiss you’ve wanted.

He slides his right hand from your hip down to your lace covered cunt under the skirt. As he thumbs your clit he uses the moment you moan out a gasp to stick his tongue inside your mouth. There’s no fight for dominance, you always welcome the intrusion.

Once he feels like you might be wet enough, he rubs his hand across your lips, feeling your arousal soak his hand. He sticks pointer and middle finger inside without it warning. You whine, the tears finally falling as you look up at him. “Nuh uh. None of that. You’re supposed to be my good girl now, making it up to me and shit. Now sit there and take it. Keep those pretty eyes on me”

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. it never does with him. He pays such good attention to you that he just knows how to make you cum quick and how to make it last long and pleasurable. As he speeds up with your walls clenching around him, he uses this moment to leave hickies on your neck. That always makes you cum immediately, and this time is no different.

He lets you ride out your bliss, almost leading you into overstimulation with how he continues even after. He pulls his hand from under your skirt and licks the wetness off his hand. He sticks the same fingers he just had inside you in his mouth, moaning as if it was the sweetest thing in the world.

You paw at his chest, trying to get some of his kisses, but he stops you. “You’ll get what you want in a second baby, we’re not done yet.”

[lazysoulwriter]

My Man, My Rules - Rafe Cameron

There was a fight. Of course, there was a fight.

Because Rafe Cameron couldn’t go one week without being knee-deep in some rich-kid drama.

And as usual, it all started with some guy looking at him the wrong way. Or maybe breathing too close. Or—God forbid—standing within a five-foot radius of her.

So now, here he was, blood dripping from his nose, shirt torn at the collar, grinning like he just won a championship fight, while his friends stood around awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

She, on the other hand, was livid.

“Oh, great. Just fucking great,” she started, storming up to him. “Again, Rafe? You really have one brain cell, and you let Topper borrow it for the night, huh?”

“Baby—”

“No.” She raised a finger, effectively shutting him up. “I swear to God, Cameron, if you get into one more fight, I will personally beat your ass myself.”

The entire party went silent.

Kelce let out a low whistle. Topper looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Even the guy Rafe had just fought—some dude from Chapel Hill who probably just wanted a beer—was staring like he had just witnessed something far more terrifying than Rafe Cameron’s right hook.

Rafe, though? He just looked amused.

“You done?” he asked, licking his busted lip.

She stepped closer, grabbing his face with both hands. “Oh, I am not done. In fact, I’m just getting started. Because you know what, Rafe? You’re mine. My man. And that means I get to decide if you’re allowed to get your dumb ass into fights.”

He blinked. “I’m… not allowed?”

“That’s right,” she snapped. “Not. Allowed. What the fuck do you think this is? Some fight club for trust fund babies? No, sir. We are done with this. From now on, I make the rules. You got a problem with someone? You tell me. You feel like punching someone? You tell me. You wanna get your knuckles bloody? I will find you a punching bag, Rafe Cameron, but it will NOT be at a fucking country club party.”

Rafe looked at her for a long second. Then, he smirked. “Kinda hot when you boss me around like that.”

She groaned, letting go of his face only to smack the back of his head. “Are you hearing me? You are banned from fighting. BANNED.”

“Banned?”

“BANNED.”

“…Like, for life?”

“Oh my fucking God—”

She turned to the crowd, gesturing wildly. “Does ANYONE else want to tell this idiot what I’m saying before I lose my mind?”

Kelce coughed. “I think she means you’re not supposed to fight anymore, bro.”

Rafe scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Kelce—”

She grabbed his chin again, forcing him to look at her. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

His smirk softened just a little. “Yeah, baby. I understand.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really?”

“I do.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I promise.”

She squinted, trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she sighed and wiped some blood off his cheek with her sleeve. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I am cute,” he agreed. “And strong. And—”

“Do not make me take it back, Cameron.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

She sighed dramatically but let him pull her away. “Fine. But if I ever catch you fighting again—”

“I know, I know. You’ll beat my ass.”

“Damn right, I will.”

Rafe smirked, tugging her even closer. “My scary little girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “And don’t you forget it.”

[time-traveller-archives]

Hi there! I just wanted to drop my gratefulness towards you through this. I have never been very comfortable with my sexuality or spirituality because of it being so old-fashioned, and me being so religious often tends to this sharp contrast with this sexualization of today's generation. Don't get me wrong I'm pagan, I was born one. Our religion is pretty celebratory towards themes like sex and exploration. I consider sex as a soul ritual and an act of finding my partner's soul every single time I do it with him. I like how this vulnerable act allows us to see and experience an intimate side of our partners. I really love the bond that sex helps us experience. Iam not against BDSM, threesome, I am very open minded. But I personally suffered burnt out in these activities as they sexualize the body and I don't like how everyone hypes up the entire concept of lust in these areas. Anyways I have found that, I enjoy finding the soul and experiencing the bond with another soul through sex very fulfilling as compared to all these. What Iam here to say to is thank you, thank you so much for your 18 + pick a card, it made me feel a bit comfortable of my sexual preferences despite knowing/have done a lot more sexual things which seems to get overhyped by this overly sexualised society. See I'm okay with what other people like or prefer or feel is the best for them, and I am okay if my partners like it too. I can get along with them, but its not what I personally prefer. I just do not like how many projections I had to face even from my own partners when they found out, I used to do that/can still do that/ or at the time I do that. Iam not a monster who sexualizes or fantasizes other people. It just hurts when the partner whom I like to share a deep bond with tends to think, project or say things about me like this. Its just I can't deal with an environment where people are constantly projecting me to be some kind of monster who just likes to fuck like a raw dog and nothing else. Like yes that's there, but I am a very emotional person I prefer bonds, connections, deep love, soul connections. I don't even know how to tell you how hurt I was from all these connections and people who constantly reduced me to a person with big sexual libido. Yeah I am a person with huge libido but that doesn't mean that's all I want or think about all the time. It tends to remind me of my rapist, even though I know its got nothing to do with a libido, a rapist is a sick person who uses sick means to get to people's vulnerability and use them for control and I am someone who just likes sex but doesn't dwells on it. Last I wasn't communicative enough with my partner about this, and idk what gossip he did. I was left trying to explain and convince everyone, learnt this people pleasing behaviour, was kinda forced to turn into this mid person because people couldn't take that I could be sexually experimental and deeply emotional as well.

PAC: Your First Time With Your Person 18+

This reading includes:

how your first time will be like w/ your person

where and how it might happen

The extended reading includes:

what you will think about it

what your person will think about it

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Emperor rx, Two of Pentacles rx, Tower, Chariot | Sun god

"Come all, come now; expand into the skies and into the shadows below."

Hi pile 1, the energy here is very very masculine and dominant. I feel like most of you will be the more submissive energy so I'm going to focus on that for the reading, but please switch it around if you feel like it applies better to you that way. Anyhow, there isn't any switching or "equality" here, this is straight up power exchange energy. You are giving in to your person, letting them do whatever they want with you, complete surrender. This isn't scary for you though, you are doing this because you trust them completely and know they will take care of you. Honestly, despite this whole power play thing (I'm even seeing some manhandling) the sex will be super loving. I truly don't see it being rough or your person calling you names or anything like that. It's like they want to make love to you, they want to make sure that every single one of your needs is taken care of, but they don't want you to lift a finger. Just lay there and let them make you feel good, basically. Ooof, your person isn't shy about what they want, pile 1.

I think that this might happen either during the day or you will go all night long until sunrise (I think that for most of you it's the later). I also get the feeling that this will happen during spring/summer, or on a nice weather day. For most of you this is also happening in a bedroom. The energy I'm getting is that you and your person will want complete privacy and knowing that you have the time to do whatever you two want. For a smaller part of you this might begin in the car and then you move to the bedroom. The energy here is very explosive, it's like at first you're not really sure if you want to do this now, but then all of a sudden you can't think about anything else. I think that you'll be trying to convince yourself not do it at first for whatever reason.

I can't stop hearing the song "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC, so this is some more confirmation that the sex is going to last awhile. Honestly, you should check out this song's lyrics if you aren't familiar, because I feel like it's totally the vibe of your first time with your person. They are crazy about you, pile 1, like crazy crazy. They have wanted to do this for a long time.

Also, let me warn you to make sure you're protected if you can get pregnant! Like, pregnancy is the energy here so be careful if that's a possibility for you. Not to be too explicit, but I'm also seeing a lot of fluids and playing with them, so make of that what you will. Also, if your person is a man he is BIG.

I think that some of you have like a daddy kink or authority figure kink and it's something that it will come into play as well. I think that they'll enjoy it very much as well. There's multiple orgasms here, and I think that you'll be coming very fast and very hard. It will be earth-shattering. For some of you I'm also seeing that the man might finish first - for some it might be a bit disappointing, but your person will make it up to you; for others though I think that it's because you're starting with oral first. Also, if you have breasts they love playing with your breasts, or maybe it's playing with nipples in general. But, yeah this will start with a lot of foreplay and then you guys will have multiple rounds.

Pile 2

Eight of Wands, Ace of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Fool | Maiden

"Demand what is yours and take back what was taken. Reclaim until you've gathered all of you."

Pile 2, hi! The first thing I'm getting from this pile is that this will be your first time having sex. If this doesn't apply to you, it might be your first time having sex after a long pause or the first time having sex with someone of a certain gender, but if neither applies it might be that this pile isn't for you. I think that for most people this is about losing their virginity, though. No matter the case, I think that this will be really lovely. Your person will make you feel like a god/dess. There's a lot of passion here.

Just like pile 1, I think that this will happen in a "safe" setting, most likely in your bedroom or your person's bedroom. I think that this place has a feeling of luxury to it, even if it isn't exactly luxurious if that makes sense. Basically, it's very tidy, well organized, beautifully decorated, you feel welcome and relaxed in this place. I'm actually seeing a fur rug and throw blankets on a bed, so really comfy. I think that for most of you this isn't planned. I think that it just kind of happens that you have your person over or that you are at their place and then they do something that just makes you think "that's it, I need them". I get this feeling that you just suddenly realize how much you love and trust in this person so you try to initiate. I see you being a bit awkward at first, but you'll find your footing quickly. Before anything happens though I see you making out with your person and feeling each other up for a long time, then your person will ask you if you're really sure about that and then all hell breaks lose.

I think that you have a lot of pent up energy and desire and you want to get it out as quickly as possible, but your person will take over a little bit and slow you down. For one, they know that it might be a big mistake to rush you, but also they want to be thorough with it. This person wants to get to know every single inch of you, they want to know what you like, what you love, what you don't care for. They want to explore your body and consume you. It's like body worship really. It's like they don't want you to think about anything else, but their body on yours. (I also get the vibe that some of you are very anxious or over thinkers and your person really wants to make sure that you're grounded for once). I also get this vibe that your person thinks that you're a bit of a brat, in the best way possible though. I see them laughing as they say that.

Just like pile 1, please make sure to use protection if there's any possibility of a pregnancy. I think that there will be a lot of foreplay and you'll be having at least one or two orgasms before penetration (also if your person is a man I think that they're bigger than average). Your person really wants you to feel good. I don't see you having multiple rounds because I think that you're going to be exhausted pile 2. Maybe the next day, though. Afterwards you're just going to cuddle with your person and have some aftercare. And, also let me tell you that you person is amazing with aftercare they're just so loving and gentle, not wanting you to move a finger and making sure that you're completely taken care of. They may bring you some food and drinks and then tell you to take a nap.

I think that you'll be a bit transformed by this first time. It might be a bit different for everyone and that's why I can't really see how. But it will change the way you view yourself, your sexuality and even your person. I think that it will help you to bond even more with your person.

Pile 3

Lovers, Ten of Pentacles, Temperance, Queen of Pentacles | Self-worship

"My hands fold as I speak to the stars, watching as the sky holds its breath. It's in stillness that I find all that I am and all of divinity within me."

Pile 3, this is probably the most romantic pile here and honestly that's saying something because they've all been super sweet. But this is 100% old-fashioned romance. I can actually see it very clearly that you're going out with your person, maybe out to dinner at a fancy or fancier place and then going either to a hotel or to one of your places to continue the night. This is the only pile that I see going to a hotel actually. But, your person will give you flowers, I think that it will be red roses for most of you (a classic of course), but for others it will be a bit more personalized, like let's say that you love tulips then that's what your person will get you. I actually just heard that your person wants to wine you and dine you and in more than one way lmao. They're funny.

For this pile I think that you have been dating this person for a while, but you're taking things slow. I just get the feeling that you two really love each other - deeply - and you know each other well. This doesn't feel like something that would happen after two or three dates. You might actually know this person before you start dating too. Anyway, as I was saying this is old-fashioned romance. I see candles and rose petals on the bed. Some of you might actually start by taking a bath together or giving a massage to one another. I just see it being very sensual, but calm. You're not rushing here, you both clearly want this, but you know that you have time and it feels so much better to draw it out like this. You're like the third pile where I have to say this, but use protection if you can pregnant! Y'all are very fertile.

I think that you're going to start with oral, and for some of you there's even 69ing here. I'm also seeing lots of fluids here. Like, even your bodies are wet with sweat or from your bath or massage. But this feels very wet, let's put it like that. With the Lovers and Temperance here this is such more than sex for you guys. It's truly like two people becoming one, body and soul. I don't see you two talking much, it's like you don't need to, the connection between you two is so powerful and so deep it's almost magical. There's lots of hand-holding, gazing into each others eyes, holding each other close. It's so, so sweet. I think that you might tear up from emotion, from how much you love them. When it comes to positions I see you guys sitting, cowgirl and missionary. But, basically, it will be whatever can give you as much closeness as possible. I also see you person holding your face, like cradling your head and running their hands through your hair.

Honestly, this will be transcendental for you guys, you might even get like an out of body experience when you orgasm. It will be very very intense. I see some of you describing it as almost being a religious experience. I see that some of you will be squirting for the first time, so that might also be intense. This is just for a few of you I think, but you might have sex in front of a mirror or they might start it by touching you in front of a mirror. Almost being like "do you see how beautiful you are?", etc, that sort of thing. The aftercare will also be very sweet, and I see you being so in love with each other afterwards. Just talking and holding each other until you fall asleep.

Pile 4

Two of Swords, Knight of Pentacles, Four of Wands rx, Three of Wands | The lovers

"Love lulls all sorrow and bewitches flesh, mind and breath, reminding me that I am unafraid of the unfurling winds of my eternity."

Pile 4, this is the most negative pile out of them all. I'm really sorry for that. I would much prefer that they were all amazing and without any problems. I don't think that it's anything serious, but it will vary from person to person. Most of all, what I feel in this pile is anxiety and almost not feeling comfortable in your body. I think that some people here have sexual trauma, relationship trauma, or even body trauma. There might even have some eating disorders in this pile. No matter what it is and no matter the seriousness of the situation, it has left you uncomfortable with your body and with sex. So, I feel like most of you are going into this with a lot of anxiety. It's almost like you want this but you don't at the same time. I'm getting a very specific message that it's only meant for a couple of you: you might have sex with a stranger or hook-up with someone (basically something you wouldn't normally do) just to prove to yourself that you can. It's almost like you're trying to do exposure therapy to yourself. Now, I'm not saying if it's right or wrong, it's not my place to judge really, but just be careful.

For most of you though, this is happening with a partner. I think that you're going to be a bit unsure at the beginning, you want to want it, but you're not really there yet. Your partner is going to be incredible here, because they're going to move really slowly to get you as comfortable as possible and stopping to see if you're alright. I see them showering you with affection and basically praising you to the heavens. They're going to be super careful with touching you, up to a point where it almost annoys you and then you start to become more active let's say. I think that you're going to take charge of the situation at a certain point and guide your partner on how you need it. And honestly I think that they're very much into it.

Throughout the whole thing you're a bit self-conscious. I think that you might be suffering from low self-esteem and you're not entirely comfortable with your body and how you look. This might mean that you have sex basically in the dark, with very little light to make you comfortable. I don't think that this is happening in your house, so that adds a little bit to your anxiety, because you're in an unfamiliar place. I can't get much more information about it, it's almost like your person is trying to protect you and your privacy which is really sweet.

However, I see that you will be left very satisfied at the end lol. Not only that though, you will be feeling much more confident in yourself and your sexuality. I'm seeing you feeling so sexy at the end. It's probably because of your partner too. They'll be like "do you see what you did to me?" and completely disheveled, and you'll be like "oh shit". This will be a turning point for you. I'm really happy for you, pile 4! When it comes to your relationship it will also be taking it to the next level, not just intimacy-wise, but also in the trust that you have in each other.

[ventique18]

Warning: a bit of a rant and more twst worship lol

Me: *glazes twst*

Someone: "well your point is invalid because this one specific character from an obscure game dresses in socially defined feminine clothes. Therefore joseimuke games in general are just as good as twst." (<- Referring to a game where there's literally just one crossdressing character)

Well good for him! 👍 Doesn't take away from the fact that Twisted Wonderland is one of the better games out there though, considering the majority of mainstream joseimuke and otome games out there that majority of the population plays-- ARE rigid when it comes to fashion expression.

Representation is important, yes, so it's very much appreciated for one such character to be present. But the thing is, twst takes it one step further by normalizing that most men in their universe don't assign gender to clothes and just wear whatever the fuck they want. I think that's more important than having one character as "unique" while everyone else is made from the same socially conforming mold.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. There are plenty of characters in twst that prefer to be traditional most of the time. But the good thing about that is that they will wear something outside of their usual preference when they need to. They don't find that weird.

And of course, there are also a lot of games out there as explorative as twst and that's great! Posts appreciating a game for doing something right while criticizing the genre in general just means that there're not enough titles that empower this idea. I think games are a good way to normalize the message that everyone should be allowed to wear what they want, and it's up to them, not society, to define beauty.

Men can be handsome and powerful while wearing makeup everyday; Vil and Malleus show us this. At the same time, you can be a woman who likes dresses but is stronger than anyone else, like how Maleanor presents herself. But that doesn't mean that women are required to pretty herself up; you can be a cool woman in a male dominated field, like Dylla Spade is.

Tldr while twst is not perfect, it's surprisingly excellent at breaking social norms and presenting how beautiful individual preferences are. There are other games good at this too, of course, but one look at popular games makes it obvious that we still have a long way to go. Twst being so open about this topic is a great step forward for the industry in general.

[chancloud8]

Picture Perfect

Part 1 * Part 2

Pairing: jeongin x reader

Word count: 2,1k

Summary: when Jeongin has a proposition for you, who are you to turn him down? Tags: suggestive maybe, but its mostly setting the scene for the smut in part 2

a/n: Happy birthday to our beloved Innie!! This was supposed to be a one shot, but because I'm not finished yet I decided to upload it in 2 parts. Part 2 will be smut ;)

Everyone in the studio has been excited about Yang Jeongin's shoot today. It’s all anyone could talk about this week, you included. You’ve been a Stay for a while now and when the call came that you’ve been chosen as the intern to work with the head photographer on this particular shoot, you may have fangirled your little heart out. 

When Jeongin walks into the studio this morning, looking sleepy and a little nervous, you expect to have to coax him out of his shell during the shoot. But boy were you wrong. As soon as he changes into his first outfit and the camera’s are turned on, it's like he transforms into a different man. 

You know he’s used to the camera’s, that he knows how to work them, but you also know how he feels about his body. He’s always been careful with showing too much skin and even with the Hallucination performance now existing, you didn’t think he’d be this confident, this sexy. Not that he shouldn’t be. The man is an absolute vision, with and without clothes. 

All through the photoshoot you can't keep your eyes off him. He's a work of art, perfectly sculptured with smooth skin and muscles in all the right places. It doesn't help that his eyes keep finding yours, holding your gaze, both through the lens of your camera as without it. 

‘Is it just me or does he look at you like you’re his next meal?’ Yumi, one of the make-up artists whispers in your ear during the second outfit change. 

‘I’m glad you’re seeing it too and I’m not going crazy,’ you mumble, looking through the photos you just shot. 

‘You’ve been undressing him with your eyes as well, don’t pretend like you haven’t,’ Yumi teases. ‘But I don’t blame you, that man is fine.’ 

‘Don’t let your husband hear you say that,’ you laugh. ‘But yes he is, look at this.’ You show her a picture where Jeongin leans back in the chair he’s sitting on, his abs on display as he has an arm thrown over his head while he looks right into your camera. 

Yumi whistles through her teeth. ‘It’s like he’s looking right into my soul, damn girl, this is good stuff. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.’ 

‘You have a husband, babe,’ you repeat. ‘Besides, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t sleep around.’ 

Your eyes meet Jeongin’s then from across the room and the way he smirks at you almost feels like he heard what you just said.

During the next break you make your way to the snack table and grab a handful of grapes. You need something sweet to silence the beast inside you and usually food can do the job almost just as well as sex. 

You grab some grapes and pop them in your mouth, already eying the chocolate on the other side of the table. The flavour of a perfectly sweet grape hits your tongue then and you hum in surprise, immediately reaching out to take some more. Wow, these are good.

Someone chuckles next to you and with flushed cheeks you look up to see Jeongin looking down at you. He has the same look in his eyes as before and his lips are tipped up in a grin. 

Up close he's even more beautiful than through your camera. 

'I, uhm, can recommend the grapes,' you stammer dumbly, not knowing what else to say. You quickly pop some more grapes into your mouth so you won't have to talk for a moment. 

'I have a proposition for you,' Jeongin whispers into your ear as he leans close to you to grab an apple from the bowl on your other side. 

You nearly choke on the remaining grapes in your mouth and start coughing loudly. 

What did he just say? 

A proposition? 

What the fuck does that mean? 

Jeongin looks at you with both concern and amusement as you continue to cough, but then he reaches for a bottle of water and unscrews the cap before giving it to you. One of his hands comes up to rub your back and you look up at him with teary eyes, before taking a sip. 

'Thanks,' you say, clearing your throat. 'I don't think I heard that correctly.' 

'You did,' Jeongin smiles and he looks around to see if anyone is in hearing distance before he leans in close again. 'And the next time you look at me with tears in your eyes will be when you're choking on my cock.' 

Your mouth falls open at his words and you nearly drop the bottle of water in your hands. 

'I--what?' 

Jeongin just shrugs, giving you a cheeky grin before his eyes travel up and down your body.

'You can say no, but I hope you'll meet me after the shoot.' 

You blink at him and pinch your arm, not sure if you're dreaming or hallucinating. You must be. Right? 

Yang Jeongin, Ayen, the maknae of Stray Kids did not just suggest he wanted you to blow him, did he? Because that would be insane. 

'But- You- I,' you stutter, your brain is definitely having an error at the whole situation. 

'Me and you,' Jeongin nods. 'I'd like that very much.' 

At this point you're just gaping at him, probably looking like a fish on dry land. Fucking hell, what did he just do to you? 

'What happened to sweet innocent Ayen?' 

'Who said I was innocent?' 

'Uhm, everyone?' 

'Have you seen the Hallucination performance?' Jeongin asks. 'Have you been paying attention today?' 

You scoff at him. Of course you have and he knows it or he wouldn't have approached you, but he just raises his eyebrows and waits for you to talk. 

Damn Chan for rooming with him. It has to be his fault. 

'You've been corrupted and I wasn't ready,' you pout. 

'Or have I just been pretending?' Jeongin winks, taking a bite of the apple you forgot he was holding. 

'Breaks over!' Your boss yells then and you jump like someone just electrocuted you. 

'Wait for me after, okay?' Jeongin asks, smiling sweetly before he turns around to get his make-up touched up. 

What the fuck just happened?

The rest of the shoot goes by in a blur with Jeongin being even more sexy and confident than before and it's driving you insane. It feels like he’s playing with you, with his food, like you’re the prey and he’s the hunter. 

Your camera is filled with pictures of him biting his lip, rolling his eyes upwards, baring his neck and many more sexual images. Everyone around you is buzzing with energy, happy with the vibe and the pictures that are being shown on the computer screens from both Junhi, the head photographer, and you. 

You lost count how many times your heart skips a beat as Jeongin looks at you, or rather at your camera, but from your point of view there’s not much difference. By the end of the shoot you feel hot and your clothes feel too tight against your skin. 

One by one staff members pick up their stuff and leave the studio. You're being deliberty slow with putting your camera and laptop away and you linger to chat with your co-workers to buy yourself some more time to decide what to do. 

You'd be a fool to turn down Jeongin's proposal and you desperately wanted to go with him and do anything he wanted, but a small part of you wondered if it was a good idea. You had one night stands before, but being with a world famous idol is new for you and you’re not sure if you feel confident enough to go for it. 

When Jeongin leaves the studio, his manager on his heels, you stare after him. Will he wait for you somewhere? Will he come back to see if you are still here when more people have left the building? 

‘Miss?’ A soft voice startles you. 

To your left a kind looking man smiles down at you. He's wearing a suit and there's a security emblem on his sleeve.  

‘Yes?’ you ask, nerves filling your body. 

‘Could you come with me for a moment? I have some questions I'd like to ask you.’ 

You share a look with Yumi and she shrugs at you. 

‘Uhm, sure,’ you nod, following him to the hallway. ‘What's this about?’ 

The man doesn't answer and leads you to a secluded room at the other side of the building. Inside sits another man in a suit and in front of him are a bunch of papers. 

‘Hello,’ he greets you kindly, gesturing to the seat in front of him. ‘You're L/N Y/N?’ 

‘That's me,’ you nod as you sit down. 

‘Good, let's get straight to it shall we,’ the man smiles. ‘Yang Jeongin has asked to spend the evening with you, do you agree to this?’ 

You blink a few times and your mouth falls open in a small ‘o’. You should have known that this was about Jeongin. 

Squirming in your seat you try to ignore your galloping heart as blood rushes to your cheeks. 

‘I agree,’ you say, screaming internally at how easy it was to say. 

‘And do you also agree to sign an NDA?’ 

You tilt your head. ‘What would I be signing for?’ 

The man pushes a paper across the table for you to read. ‘The most important thing is that you can't share anything about your night with the outside world, if you do we'll sue you and you'll have to pay a large fine.’

‘Okay, so no talking about it. Got it,’ you nod, scanning the text in front of you. 

It’s all pretty basic. You can’t share any personal information with anyone or make any pictures or videos during your stay with Jeongin. It makes sense that they want to protect their idol from any scandals and you weren't planning on telling anyone. Who, besides Yumi, would believe you anyway. 

‘Can I borrow a pen?’

Thirty minutes later you're in front of a hotel door. Your heart is once again beating so fast that it feels like Jeongin would be able to hear it if he opened the door right now. The security guard who brought you up, gives you a funny look when you take three deep breaths before knocking on the door. 

Stay calm Y/N. 

Jeongin opens the door within what feels like two heartbeats. He's wearing the same outfit as before, but his hair is much messier. It looks like he continuously dragged his hands through it. Was he nervous? Did he wonder if you would come? 

He grins when he sees you and steps aside to let you in. 

‘I wasn't sure you'd come,’ he says as he closes the door behind you. ‘I'm really glad you did.’ 

‘Yeah?’ you smile, shrugging out of your coat and dumping it on the couch along with your bag. ‘I’m glad I decided to come too, then.’ 

‘You were having doubts?’ Jeongin asks when you turn to look at him.

He has his arms crossed and his eyebrows are raised as he studies your face. 

‘Not really,’ you shake your head. ‘I just have never done anything like this with an Idol before.’ 

‘So in a sense, I’m your first?’ Jeongin grins, dropping his arms next to his body as he steps closer to you. 

‘I guess so,’ you laugh. 

‘I like that,’ Jeongin says, he’s so close now that you have to look up. 

There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. He looks excited, hungry and playful and heat fills your belly in anticipation. You have no idea what to expect from him. 

‘What else do you like?’ you ask, smirking up at him. 

‘You’re about to find out,’ he says and then he pounces. 

His lips are soft, but he kisses you hard and fast. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon and when he sucks on your tongue you moan into his mouth. Jeongin’s hands are on your waist and he slowly walks you back until your back hits the door. 

‘You’re mine for tonight, Y/N,’ he whispers against your lips. 

All decent thoughts and any lingering doubts leave your mind then. You like this confident man in front of you and instead of answering you just moan again and roll your hips forward to collide with his. Whatever he wants, he’ll get. You’re ready to completely give yourself to him. 

Jeongin’s hands tighten on your hips to keep you still. ‘What do you say to that?’ 

Your brain takes a moment to come up with a reply. 

‘I’m yours?’ your voice sounds breathy and shaky. 

‘Is that a question or an answer?’ Jeongin asks, his lips leaving a trail on your neck as he slowly sucks on your skin. 

‘I’m yours,’ you say, sounding more sure. ‘I’m yours for tonight.’ 

‘Good girl.’

a/n: part 2 with the smut will be up either tomorrow or monday at its latest! ;) I hope you liked reading this hehe (sorry i just cant write smut without at least SOME story or warm up lmao) - taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @delulustardust @velvetskize @channiefever @luvbangchan @aalexyuuuhm @katsukis1wife @herpoetryprincess @ye0lkkot @glitterywastelandgardener @vampcharxter @boi-bi-ahaha @mlink64 @greyyeti @mariteez

[attilarrific]

Okay, as a librarian in a major metropolitan area, I've seen this go around a bunch. I've had this sent to me several times as a fun joke. And while upstairs is DEFINITELY right that this is part of a massive ongoing anti-library smear campaign by the right (and if you just went, "wait, what," well. Have I got news for you), I have something else to say that I kind of keep waiting for someone else to say for me, but this post keeps going around and no one says it.

Yes. Fuck's sake. Yes. People are having sex and doing drugs at the library.

Ask any public librarian in, again, a major metropolitan area (possibly other areas, but I'm just not knowledgeable there), and they will go, "Yes, obviously. Yes, obviously, we do our best, but shit fucking sucks, please fund us better so we can better connect these people with helpful resources."

Fucking---this isn't really the point, but I have people at the library say things to me like, "You must have the easiest job in the world," because they assume all I do is, like, read at work or something. And no. No, I fucking do not. You are wrong about what libraries are.

And you're sort of wrong in a fun way, because libraries do a lot of incredible stuff you aren't aware of, like events and concerts and interlibrary loan and expungement clinics and tech loaning and makerspaces and so just so much more. Check out your local library. I guarantee you they do things you never would've thought.

But you're also wrong in a not-so-fun way, because being the third place that you don't have to pay to be in isn't always fucking pretty, okay. Public service and community spaces aren't the utopian bastions you imagine.

So, yes. People come in drunk off their asses. People do drugs in the bathrooms (so much that in some libraries, the librarians are getting Narcan training). People shit outside of the bathrooms, sometimes because they're drunk or high, but not always. People are having sex. They masturbate in the study rooms or the stacks or just out in the open until someone stops them, they watch porn on the public computers.

And yes, the library workers get to deal with that. And it fucking sucks.

But also FUCK Fox News, because the answer is not "libraries have become a problem," the question is when and why we became the only place everyone could go. Why we got stuck with all of it, becoming all things to all people. And the question isn't how we can force people out of libraries or close libraries (because clearly we're disgusting houses of iniquity, and if you remove the house, the iniquity evaporates with it), it's how we can actually fucking connect people with services that libraries can't (and shouldn't have to!) provide. Like housing. Medical assistance. Mental health services. Career services. So much more.

But yes. For the love of god. Libraries are drug-infested sex dens. Yes, we'd like to do something about that.

If someone could help us instead of laughing at the thought, that would be fantastic, thanks.

So Fox News ran a story about how they think libraries are turning into drug-infested sex dens and I am shocked, shocked that I was never offered any drugs during my 15+ years working in libraries.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:24 pm]

(cw: f!reader, suggestive, profanity, written on my phone so expect some typos)

“Baby, are you sure your big gave you permission to drive his car?” You asked fratboy!Jaehyun, eyes on him as he drove.

“Sweetheart, he basically begged me to take this baby for a spin! He asked me to water his plants, feed the dogs, and asked me to make sure the car was alright! A car like this needs to be taken out on a regular basis!” Jaehyun explained, his eyes not leaving the road ahead of the both of you.

Earlier today when Jaehyun had told you to come to the frat house, you hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary. Even when he’d told you to make sure you were dressed up, you didn’t question it. It was pretty safe to say that you definitely weren’t expecting to see your boyfriend waiting for you while leaning against a Maserati! A sleek and shiny luxury car that had you wondering if cars were actually sexy like guys always talked about.

“Please don’t tell me you took out a loan for this. I know guys find cars sexy, but you’re smarter than this. Did you mix alcohols last night?” You asked with concern clear in your tone.

Jaehyun waved you off with a laugh and explained that his big, a major donor to the frat, had asked him to house sit for the week. That’s how you’d gotten here, in the leather passenger seat of the fanciest car you’d ever been in and on your way to a restaurant equally as fancy.

This restaurant Jaehyun had insisted on taking you to was about half an hour from campus, so while he focused on the road, you were in charge of directions. At least you were supposed to be, but how could you possibly focus on the screen of your phone when your boyfriend looked absolutely scrumptious behind the wheel?

He was in a crisp dress shirt, a bow tie around his neck with one hand at the top of the wheel and the other pinching his bottom lip gently while he hummed along to the song on the radio. “How far away is the exit, sweetheart?” He asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Huh? Oh, um…” you looked at the screen of your phone in your hands, “oh shoot. It’s rerouting. The next exit is in 3 miles.”

“Alright, thanks, Sweets. I made a reservation for this place so we can’t be too late,” he tells you, leaning over to give your thigh a gentle squeeze.

With his touch you feel your heart pound even faster, face growing hot. Did he even know what the hell he was doing to you? Touching you, taking you on a spontaneous date, looking like a model right off the runway, and just being the best boyfriend ever. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of, everything any girl dreamed of.

This effect he had on you was something else completely. So strong and intense that you’d now missed the exit you were supposed to take and the next 4 that followed. You even make him accidentally take the wrong exit a couple times because you glance at the screen right after you miss the exit you’re supposed to take and panic as you tell him to take the next one, even if it’s the wrong one.

Jaehyun groaned, trying to keep himself calm despite how frustrated he was feeling,“Sweetheart, we have 5 minutes before we lose our reservation and we’re 15 minutes away. What is making you so distracted?! It’s not hard to look at your screen, Sweets, we do it all the time.”

You flush with embarrassment, “baby, I’m distracted!”

“Distracted by what?! Sweetheart I’m going to have to break a handful of driving laws to make it to this restaurant on time,” he sighs tiredly, trying to hide his frustration with you.

He was trying to be spontaneous! How often did a couple of college kids get to go to a restaurant this fancy? Never. Since his big was paying him pretty handsomely for house sitting, Jaehyun had figured he could treat you by taking you out to the nicest dinner both of you had ever shared. This was a big step up from the usual diners and small food shops you usually went to.

“But you just look so fucking good right now! How am I meant to be looking at a phone when I would so much rather be looking at you? Seriously, babe, you look so sexy. I don’t know if it’s the dress shirt or you behind the wheel but something is doing it for me,” you confess with hot cheeks.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to flush now, was the car hitter or was it just him? And then the next words that leave your lips have him wishing for the earth to swallow him whole. Very sweetly, very calmly, you ask, “do your think your big would know if we had sex in here?”

Jaehyun swerves the car, hearing multiple honks from his fellow drivers on the freeway. He swallows hard, eyes wide, “Sweetheart, you can’t just ask a guy that when he’s driving!”

You pout at him, reaching across the center console to hold his hand, “but you’re not just a guy. You’re my guy, you’re my boyfriend.”

“God, you’re going to be the fucking death of me, Sweetheart,” he sighs under his breath, then his back straightens and a smug smile comes over his handsome features, “I’m that distracting in a bow tie, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your big head, take this exit,” you instruct with a playful roll of your eyes.

So that’s how you and Jaehyun find yourselves sitting across from each other with the finest food you’ve ever eaten. You have a happy smile on your face while you take another bite of the delicious food on your plate, and Jaehyun who sits across from you and wishes he’d never chosen a restaurant so far from home and chosen some looser dress pants. The things he does for you…

[bbdeongi]

Blurry Words, Clear Feelings

☆PAIRING: Childhood Bsf! San x Fem! Reader

☆WARNINGS: Angst, fluff, fake friends, Y/N is drunk, pet names (Angel, Precious, Darling.), Suggestive at the end but not too much, friends to lovers au.

☆SUMMARY: your trust is shattered after discovering your so-called "friends have been using you. Drunk and upset, you turn to your best friend, San, who is there to comfort you.

☆WORD COUNT: 8.9k

☆A/N: AHH I'm so happy I finally completed this!! this is a request from @/atzlov-r. Thank you so much for waiting!! And this is the longest fic I've made.. jsjs

The night had started out innocently enough. You had gone out with your “friends,” hoping to have a good time and maybe forget the weight of everything you had been dealing with lately. It was supposed to be a fun night—laughter, drinks, music, and maybe some dancing. But as the night wore on, things started to feel... wrong. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but it became undeniable. Your friends weren’t really friends. They were just people who took advantage of your kindness, of your willingness to buy drinks and keep everyone entertained.

When you overheard their conversation outside the restroom, you felt the sharp sting of betrayal. The truth hit you like a ton of bricks. “We can get her to buy us more drinks. Why not?” “She’s just so easy to manipulate. I mean, who else is going to pay for it?”

It hurt more than you expected, a mix of anger, embarrassment, and confusion. You had spent so long trying to make them happy, trying to fit in and be liked. But they didn’t care about you—not at all.

Without thinking, you stormed back to the group, your chest tight with emotion. You wanted to scream at them, to make them feel what you were feeling, but all you could do was yell, your voice breaking as you confronted them.

“Why are you using me?!” you shouted, not caring who heard. “I’m not your personal ATM! You don’t even care about me!”

The group froze for a moment, clearly startled and shocked by your outburst. A few of them exchanged uncomfortable glances with each other, but none of them seemed to truly understand the weight of your words. One girl, the one who had been laughing the loudest earlier, rolled her eyes as if your outburst were just a minor inconvenience.

“You’re being dramatic, Y/N,” she said dismissively. “We’re just having fun, okay? Stop being so sensitive.”

“Sensitive?” You couldn’t help it. You scoff, Your voice grew louder, slurred from the alcohol but full of hurt. “You’ve been using me this whole fucking time! I’ve been buying drinks for all of you, running around, making sure everyone’s having a good time, and this is what I get in return? Being laughed at behind my back!?”

A couple of them shifted uncomfortably, their faces a mix of guilt and annoyance. But no one spoke up. No one apologized. They didn’t even try to make things right. The girl who had dismissed you earlier just shrugged and rolled her eyes once more.

“Look, it’s not a big deal. You’re overreacting,” she muttered, before turning away to chat with someone else. “You're acting childish, it's annoying, Y/N..”

That was it. That was the moment you knew you were done. You couldn’t stay here, not with these people. They weren’t worth your time, your energy, or your trust. With a shaky breath, you turned on your heel and walked away from the group, feeling the familiar sting of humiliation in your chest. You felt a tear roll down the side of your face. You didn’t care if they were watching. You didn’t care about them at all.

You made your way to the bar, pushing through the crowd. Your legs felt wobbly under you, but the anger and sadness kept you moving. You couldn’t stop now. You couldn’t go back to those people who you called your "friends". Instead, you just needed to drink. Forget about them. Forget about everything.

As you reached the bar counter, you barely noticed the bartender behind it. She was busy talking to another customer, her back turned for a moment. But you didn’t care. You were too focused on your own thoughts, and your own emotions. You needed another drink. You needed to drown the pain.

When the female finally turned to you, her eyes scanning your face, you gave her a small, tired smile. It felt forced, but you hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“Can I get a... double whiskey?” you slurred as you wiped the tear off of your cheek, your voice thick with alcohol.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. She hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing whether or not she should serve you more alcohol. But then she shrugged and started to pour your drink.

“Here you go,” she said, sliding the glass toward you. You picked it up and took a long gulp, the burn of the whiskey doing little to dull the ache in your chest. It was numbing, but not nearly enough.

Your hands trembled as you reached for your drink again, ignoring the way your vision blurred. Maybe if you drowned yourself in enough alcohol, the pain would fade, the ache in your chest would disappear, and you wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. You could just disappear in your own mind. Get away from the real world and the problems that come with it.

So you took another sip.

And another.

And another.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you ordered your next drink. But it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. One drink after another, until the female worker seemed to just be going through the motions. You didn’t even know how many drinks you had by then—five, six, seven? The alcohol was starting to take hold of you completely, your mind fuzzy and clouded, but you didn't give a shit. Your anger had turned into a numb, empty feeling, a void that seemed to swallow everything around you.

Every time you looked up, the same faces from your “friends” were still there, laughing and chatting. But none of them cared. They were just focused on themselves. You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything except getting more drunk. "fucking selfish" you thought to yourself. that's what they were. Selfish assholes..

At this point, you barely noticed the bartender behind the counter. She had been watching you for a while, and as she made her way over, she seemed more concerned and worried than before. She stopped in front of you, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said, her voice gentler than before. "I think you’ve had enough."

You blinked up at her, trying to steady yourself. "M'fine," you slurred, though the way your body swayed slightly said otherwise.

“That’s enough drinks for now,” she said again, firmly, her tone almost maternal.

You blinked up at her, confused. “What?”

“I said, that’s enough,” she repeated, shaking her head. “You’ve had more than enough drinks for tonight.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words got stuck. You didn’t want to listen to her. You didn’t want to hear anything right now. You just wanted to keep drinking, to forget everything that had happened, to forget how badly you had been used.

But the woman didn’t back down. She placed a hand on the counter and leaned in a little closer, her expression softer now, though still firm. A sigh fell from her lips as she looked at you with serious eyes..

“Listen,” she said, her voice gentle but serious. “I don’t usually do this, but you’ve had too much. I know you’re upset, but drinking more isn’t going to help you. It’s just going to make things way worse.”

You looked up at her, eyes blurry and unfocused. You didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. The alcohol wasn’t helping. It was only making everything feel more intense, more painful. But still, you didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t handle everything that had happened. You didn’t know how to fix it.

“Do you have someone who cares about you?” she asked softly, her eyes locking with yours. “Someone you trust? Someone who’s there for you?”

You thought about it for a moment, the haze of alcohol clouding your thoughts. But then the name came to you, like it always did.

“San,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “San...”

Her eyes softened. “That your boyfriend?”

You snorted, though it was weak. “No. My best friend.”

The bartender studied you for a long moment before exhaling through her nose. “Good. Because you need a real friend right now.” Then, before you could protest, she pulled out her phone. “Tell me his number.”

You frowned, the alcohol making your brain hazy. “Why?”

“Because, sweetheart, you’re drunk off your ass, and I’m not letting you go home with people who don’t give a damn about you.” The bartender gave you a soft, knowing look. “I think it’s time to call him. Let him help you.”

You nodded weakly, your heart sinking. You hadn’t wanted to rely on San, but now, it seemed like the only thing you could do. He had always been there for you, always been your rock. You just hoped he would be there for you now, after everything.

The bartender took your phone from your hand, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’m going to call him for you, okay?”

You didn’t have the strength to argue. You just sat there, letting her take the phone from your unsteady and shaking hands. She quickly found San’s name in your contacts and dialed the number, bringing the phone to her ear. You could barely make out the words when the phone picked up, but you could hear the familiar sound of San’s voice on the other end.

“Hello?” he asked, his voice sounding worried.

“Hi,” the bartender said. “This is a bartender at the club. Your friend is here, and she’s had a little too much to drink. She’s upset, and I think she could really use you right now. Can you come pick her up?”

There was a brief pause before San’s voice returned, sounding much more alert. “Y/N?.. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, but she’s drunk and needs you. I’m not letting her stay here like this. Can you come get her?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The bartender smiled softly and nodded at you. “He’s on his way.”

You felt a strange sense of relief wash over you, like a weight lifting off your chest. San was coming. He would be there to help you. Everything would be okay. Everything will be just fine...

“Thank you,” you whispered to the bartender, your voice barely audible.

She gave you a warm smile. “It’s no problem. Just hang in there, okay, dear? He’ll be here soon.”

You nodded again, feeling your eyes grow heavy. It felt like everything was finally starting to calm down like the storm inside you was slowly fading. You just needed to wait a little longer. San would be here soon. And everything would be okay.

San was already halfway out the door before the bartender could even finish explaining.

“She’s drunk,” she had said through the phone, her voice low and concerned. “And those people she’s with? They don’t have her best interests in mind.”

That was all San needed to hear.

His chest tightened as the words echoed in his mind. He’d told you, warned you about those people before. But you hadn’t listened. You’d always been too trusting, too kind. You’d thought they were your friends—good friends. But now, he was seeing just how wrong you had been.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets, the city lights flashing by in a blur. He knew you were strong. He knew you didn’t need anyone to protect you. But this—this was different. You were vulnerable. You were upset. You weren't in your normal headspace. And right now, you are alone in a crowded bar with people who don’t care about you.

The thought made his stomach churn.

San pushed open the heavy doors of the bar, the sound of music and laughter spilling into the night air. He scanned the room quickly, the crowd of people barely registering in his mind. His eyes locked onto you almost immediately.

There you were, slouched over the bar counter, your cheek resting against your folded arms, tears slowly rolling down your flushed face. Your fingers still loosely wrapped around the glass in front of you, the remnants of your drink barely visible. You looked so small, so fragile in that moment. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. You were hurting, and it killed him to see you like this.

His jaw tightened in frustration, and his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something. How could they have done this to you? he thought. How could they use you like that?

The bartender, noticing him standing there, waved him over. She was a tall woman, her demeanor calm but concerned. “You must be San,” she said, her tone even but with a hint of understanding.

San nodded quickly, his eyes never leaving you. “How bad is she?” His voice was tight, almost urgent. He was worried about you.

“She’s had too much,” the bartender replied, her gaze flickering to you before landing back on him. “And from what I overheard, she just found out those friends of hers aren’t really her friends. They’ve been using her, taking advantage of her.”

San’s heart sank at her words. He knew, deep down, that this was what had been happening all along. But hearing it out loud made it real in a way that hurt him more than he expected.

Shaking his head, San forced his emotions down. There wasn’t time to dwell on it now. He needed to focus on you. He crouched down next to you, his warm palm gently landing on your shoulder. His fingers brushed the fabric of your top as he tried to rouse you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

At the sound of his voice, you stirred slightly, your head lifting just enough to blink at him through bleary eyes. Your gaze seemed unfocused for a moment, as if trying to make sense of the world around you. Then, recognition flickered in your eyes, and you managed to lift your hand, reaching out to touch his arm.

“S- sannie?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper.

San’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of his name slipping from your lips, but he didn’t let it show. He forced a smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Yeah, it’s me,” he replied softly, fighting the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “I’m here, angel. Let’s get you out of here.”

You let out a small hum of relief, your lips curling up in a small smile that made his heart ache. “I- I knew you’d come...” you mumbled, your voice thick with alcohol and sleepiness.

San’s heart clenched painfully in his chest at the words. Of course he would come. He’d always come. But hearing you say it like that—so vulnerable, so trusting—made him want to protect you more than ever.

“Of course I came,” he said, his tone low, almost tender. He brushed another strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “You think I’d leave you like this?”

You pouted, your brows furrowing in that adorable way that always made him laugh. “No…” You sighed, your voice sleepy as your eyelids fluttered closed momentarily. “But I didn’t w- wanna bother you…”

San scoffed, though there was no real bite to it. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re never a bother to me.” His voice softened at the end, his words laced with an unspoken truth. He would never see you as a burden, never in a million years.

Before he could coax you to your feet, your body swayed slightly, and you slumped forward in a way that made his stomach lurch. His reflexes kicked in just in time as he reached out and steadied you, his arms catching your waist before you could fall off the stool.

“Alright, that’s it,” he muttered under his breath. His voice had a resigned tone to it, but he didn’t hesitate. He bent down, his strong arms sliding under your legs as he effortlessly lifted you up onto his back. “You’re not walking like this.”

A little squeak left your lips, and San couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders. Your body felt light against his back, but the sensation was strangely comforting. It felt... right, in a way.

“Ohhh… piggyback ride!” you giggled, your voice slurring slightly as you rested your head against his shoulder.

San shook his head with a quiet laugh, securing his grip under your thighs. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, though his tone was fond, “Just hold on tight, alright?”

You hummed happily, your arms tightening slightly around his neck as you buried your face into the curve of his shoulder. “Y- yay! Piggggyybackk..!” San could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin, making his heart race just a little bit faster. He tried not to focus on it, on how perfect it felt to have you so close, so vulnerable in his arms.

He thanked the bartender, and she waved back. He was glad that a trustworthy person found you, and stayed by your side. Who knows what could've happened if you just stayed alone.

He adjusted his grip on you and started walking toward the exit, his pace steady and sure, despite the weight of you on his back. The whole situation felt surreal, it felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. But as much as he wanted to stay in that moment, he knew there was still one more thing to deal with.

That’s when the rambling started.

“I’ve.. always thought you were sooo perfect,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “Like.., San, you’re jus- so... so... pretty... And hot. God, you're so hot.”

San’s entire body froze, his eyes slightly widened, his breath catching in his throat. The words tumbled out of you, slurred and slow, but they hit him like a freight train. His heart skipped a beat as the weight of your drunken confession sunk in.

Did you just say that?

You didn’t seem to notice the effect your words were having on him. You just kept going, completely unaware of how much he was trying to keep himself together. He ignored you and continued walking. Maybe you didn't mean it. But you continued..

“You’re a- alwayyysss there for me.. Y'know? Always. And you’re so kind... and you’re strong... but like, in a... in a way tha's not too much, y'know?”

San’s chest tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know how to respond to that, didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to laugh it off, to tell you that you were just drunk and didn’t mean it. But another part of him—the part that had always cared for you, the part that had always been there for you—was starting to feel something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

You continued your rambling and yapping, completely unaware of the emotions racing through him. San’s thoughts were a whirlwind, his heart hammering in his chest as he focused on getting you to the car. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this—dazed, uncertain, and maybe even a little afraid of what all of this meant.

But one thing was for sure: He would never let you go. Not now. Not ever...

You eventually reached his car. He opened the passenger's side and carefully set you down on the seat.. you groaned softly as you leaned back against the cushion. He reached over you and buckled your seatbelt in. He gently shut the door and walked over to the driver's side. He got in and buckled his seatbelt.. A sigh left his lips as he started the car, looking at you making sure you were okay.

San sighed as he maneuvered the car onto the road, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. The neon streetlights cast long shadows on your face, highlighting the way your head wobbled slightly as you tried to sit upright. You stared out the window, your eyes following each pink and blue light.

The drive back home was quiet, except for the soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional hiccup that escaped your lips. San's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he focused on the road, his gaze flickering over to you every now and then. You were still resting against his shoulder, your face still flushed from the alcohol.

Every time you hiccupped, a small giggle followed, making San's heartache in a way he didn’t expect. Your giggles were cute and carefree, but there was an edge to them—a tenderness that made him feel both protective and… something more.

You hiccupped suddenly, your whole body jolting from the force of it, and a sleepy giggle followed immediately after. “whoopsies,” you murmured, swaying a little as you leaned your head against the cool window. “’M’drunk…”

San huffed out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, angel, I know.”

You turned your head to him, blinking a few times like it was hard to keep your eyes open. Your lips pushed into a small pout, and you let out a dramatic sigh. “But… but Sannie, just ’cause I’m drunk… doesn’t mean I’m lyin’,” you slurred, dragging out the last word as if it took effort to say.

San's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening slightly. He could already tell where this was going. Though you didn't drink much and tried to avoid it, you always got like this when you were wasted—overly affectionate, a little too honest, and completely unaware of how much your words affected him.

"Y/N," he warned, glancing over at you, but you weren’t paying attention to his hesitance.

You suddenly gasped, sitting up straighter—though the movement made you wobble slightly. “Ohhh my God,” you drawled, eyes wide as if you had just come to some life-altering realization.

San arched a brow. “…What?”

“You’re jus’—” You hiccupped again, a giggle bubbling past your lips. “You’re jus’ so… perfect, Sannie.”

San inhaled sharply, his knuckles going white against the steering wheel.

Oh no.

He really needed to get you home before you started saying things he wouldn't be able to forget.

"You always take care of me," you mumbled, your head rolling slightly as you stared at him with big, unfocused eyes. "You're so… so nice. Like… sooo nice. The nicest person ever. Like, for real. I dunno what I’d do without you…”

San swallowed, keeping his gaze locked on the road. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice lower now, more controlled.

You ignored him completely, waving a hand in the air as if dismissing his words. "An’ you—" Another hiccup. "You have the best shoulders.”

San blinked.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He turned to you for a brief second, only to see you staring at him—your expression deadly serious.

“…What?”

“Your shoulders," you repeated, slurring slightly. "They're sooo big. Like… stupid big.” You reached out clumsily, your fingers poking at his upper arm before sliding up to pat his shoulder as if testing its size.

San clenched his jaw. “Precious, keep your hands to yourself,” he muttered. He secretly liked how clingy and touchy you were, but he had to keep you grounded at this moment.

But you only pouted, retracting your hand with an exaggerated sigh. “Jus’ sayin’,” you mumbled under your breath, slumping back against the seat. “S’not my fault you got shoulders like a… like a…” You trailed off, blinking in thought. Then your face lit up.

"Like a mountain!" you announced loudly with a stupid smile on your face.

San let out a long, exhausted sigh. “A mountain..?”

"Yeahhh," you giggled, wiggling a bit in your seat. "Like, if I ever got lost, I think I’d be able to find you, ‘cause your shoulders are like… like a landmark.”

San pressed his lips together, fighting back his blush, but he couldn't help it. You were a mess. A completely ridiculous, drunk mess. And you had no idea how close he was to losing his mind over you.

You hiccupped again and let out a dramatic groan. “Ugh, why’re you so pretty, Sannie?”

San stiffened.

Oh, no. He was not having this conversation with you right now.

"You’re jus’ so pretty," you slurred, batting your eyelashes, blinking at him in awe. "Like, it’s not fair… your face is so—so nice, and your eyes—Sannie, your eyes—" You turned to him with an exaggerated, pouty frown. “They're so brown.”

San let out a strangled noise. “I mean… yeah? That’s kinda how eyes work, Y/N.”

You huffed, clearly unsatisfied with his response. “Nooo, but your eyes are like, warm brown. Like… melted chocolate. Or… or a sunset, if a sunset was brown—wait, no, that doesn’t make sense…”

San squeezed his eyes shut briefly, inhaling deeply before forcing himself to focus on the road.

"You really need to sleep," he muttered, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

"But I’m not tired!" you protested, even as your head wobbled dangerously close to the window.

San scoffed. “Yeah? Then why are you slurring all your words?”

You blinked lazily at him before shrugging. “M’just… relaxed…”

San shook his head, letting out a quiet chuckle. "Precious," he said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. "You're really drunk. You don’t even know what you’re saying. You’re not sober, Y/N."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head—though the movement made you wobble even more. “Well…” You hiccupped again, pressing your palm against your face as if trying to steady yourself. “I’m sober ’nuff to know I mean it.”

San’s breath hitched, his heart stalling for just a second.

He knew you were drunk. He knew that. But there was something in the way you said it—something that made it feel too real.

You smiled, clearly pleased with his response. But then, a moment later, your face softened, and you sighed, resting your cheek against the window. “Sannie…”

San hummed in acknowledgment.

"You’re my favorite person," you murmured, your voice softer now, sleepier.

San's fingers twitched against the wheel.

His throat felt tight. He knew you were drunk, knew you probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation in the morning. But damn it… it still made his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to deal with.

“…You’re mine too, angel,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You made a content little noise, eyes fluttering shut. “Good,” you mumbled. “M’glad.”

San swallowed thickly, stealing one last glance at you before refocusing on the road.

Yeah, he thought, me too.

San exhaled as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, the tension in his shoulders finally easing just a little.

The entire ride had been filled with your drunken rambling, your words a mixture of heartfelt confessions and ridiculous observations about his mountain-like shoulders. He had tried his best to ignore the way his face heated every time you sighed about how “safe” and “solid” he felt, but it wasn’t easy when your voice was so soft and full of admiration.

But now, as he parked the car and glanced over at you, he noticed you had sobered up—just a little. Your eyelids were still heavy, and you swayed slightly when you moved, but your words weren’t as slurred anymore. The giggles had quieted, and instead of the drunken daze from before, there was something else lingering in your gaze—something softer.

San sighed and stepped out of the car before making his way to your side, opening the door and crouching down slightly.

“Alright, darling,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “Up we go.”

Before you could even process what was happening, he slid an arm under your legs and lifted you onto his back again.

A small gasp left your lips at the sudden movement, but you didn’t resist. If anything, you melted against him, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders, your cheek pressing against the back of his neck.

“You do this too much,” you murmured, voice still laced with exhaustion.

San huffed a quiet laugh, adjusting his hold under your thighs. “You keep getting yourself into situations where I have to.”

You made a tiny noise—a whine in protest, but the warmth of his back was too comforting for you to argue. Instead, you relaxed, letting him carry you toward the building.

The moment he stepped into his apartment, a familiar sense of calm washed over him. The dim lighting cast soft shadows across the walls, and the faint scent of vanilla from his candles still lingered in the air. He didn't have time to blow them out since he was so focused on getting to you and bringing you back here.

He walked straight to his bedroom, the lamp on the nightstand cast a dimly lit glow, the curtains covering the night sky.. He gently set you down on his bed before stepping back and looking at your tiny self. He couldn't deny how cute you looked.

“You need to change,” he said, already moving toward his dresser. “I’ll grab something comfortable—”

“San.” Your voice stopped him in his tracks.

His fingers froze just before touching the drawer handle, and he turned to look at you, expecting to see your usual sleepy, drunken expression.

But you weren’t just drunk anymore. You were looking at him with clarity.

“I mean it when I say I like you.”

San felt the air leave his lungs.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He just stood there, his entire body frozen as your words echoed in his mind.

You weren’t laughing. You weren’t teasing. You were serious.

“I’ve meant it for a long time,” you continued, your fingers gripping the blanket beneath you. “And I know you think I don’t know what I’m saying because I had too much to drink tonight, but San, I swear, I know.”

San swallowed hard, trying to keep his heart from completely spiraling out of control.

“Darling…” His voice was careful, hesitant. “You’re still a little drunk.”

You frowned, frustration flickering in your eyes. “I know that,” you muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”

San inhaled sharply, his grip tightening at his sides. He could feel how much you meant it. He could see it in the way you were looking at him.

And that terrified him. Because for years, he had told himself this would never happen.

For years, he had buried everything, convinced that his feelings for you were one-sided, that you only saw him as a friend, that he had no right to want more.

And now here you were, sitting on his bed, looking at him like he was your entire world.

“I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret saying this,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm.

Your brows furrowed, and you pushed yourself up slightly, propping yourself on your hands. “Why do you always do that?”

San blinked. “Do what?”

“Doubt yourself,” you said, shaking your head. “Doubt me.”

San’s chest ached at the frustration in your voice.

“It’s not that,” he murmured. “I just don’t want you to—”

“Regret it?” you finished for him. “San, I won’t.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Because if he did—if he let himself believe you—he wasn’t sure if he could hold himself back anymore.

You stared at him for a long moment, your breath uneven. Then, suddenly, your jaw clenched, and before he could react, you reached forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him toward you.

And then you kissed him.

San froze.

Your lips were warm, soft, and desperate—like you were trying to prove something to him. His brain short-circuited.

For years, he had imagined this. Wanted this.

But nothing could have prepared him for what it actually felt like.

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, as if you were afraid he’d pull away. But God, he had no intention of doing that. Not when you were kissing him like this.

His hesitation cracked.

San exhaled sharply through his nose before he finally—finally—moved.

His hands found your waist, pulling you impossibly close as he kissed you back, his movements slow but deep. He could taste the faint remnants of alcohol on your lips, but beneath that, he could taste you. And it was intoxicating.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and San let out a quiet groan against your lips. His head was spinning, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

This wasn’t just some drunken mistake. This was everything.

When you finally pulled back, your breath was uneven, your lips slightly swollen. Your eyes met his, and there it was again—that look. The one that made his entire world shift.

“Still don’t believe me?” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

San swallowed hard, his hands still resting on your waist.

“I believe you,” he admitted, his voice rough.

Your lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

And just like that, he was done for.

Your breath was still uneven when you leaned back slightly, eyes searching his face. San was still so close, his hands resting on your waist, his lips barely parted as if he was still trying to process what had just happened.

And maybe you should have stopped there—let the moment settle, let him breathe.

But you didn’t want to. Because for years, you had wanted this.

And now that you had him here, looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, you weren’t about to let him run away from this.

So you kissed him again. This time, there was no hesitation.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him in as your lips pressed firmly against his.

San inhaled sharply through his nose, his entire body going rigid. But he didn’t pull away.

No—he kissed you back.

And this time, there was no careful restraint.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you shiver. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent heat rushing down your spine. It was slow but deep, each movement drawing you closer, making your head spin.

His warmth, his scent, the way his hands held you like he was afraid to let go—it was all consuming.

You felt weightless. Dizzy. Desperate.

A soft, needy sound escaped your lips, and that was when it happened—San froze.

His lips stilled against yours, his entire body stiffening before he abruptly pulled away, breath heavy.

Your brows furrowed. “San—?”

His hands were still on you, but his grip had loosened, as if he was forcing himself to let go. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark, but beneath that, there was something else—a storm of emotions he was clearly struggling to keep under control.

His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before he quickly looked away, exhaling sharply.

“Angel,” he murmured, voice low but strained. “You’re still a little drunk.”

You pouted at that, lips still tingling from the way he had kissed you just moments ago. “I told you—I know what I’m saying.”

San shook his head, his hands slipping from your waist, though it looked like it physically pained him to do so. “I don’t wanna lose control.”

You swallowed, heart pounding. Lose control.

You weren’t naive. You could feel what that kiss had done to him. You could see it in the way his chest rose and fell, in the way his fingers curled slightly like he was restraining himself from pulling you back in.

And it thrilled you.

Because you had done that to him.

You had never seen him like this before—so close to unraveling, yet still fighting to hold himself back for your sake.

Your frustration grew. “San,” you whispered, reaching for his hand. “I want this.”

His breath hitched, but he didn’t move.

“I want you.”

His fingers twitched under yours. God, he was fighting so hard. And you were determined to break him.

San barely had a second to react before you grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him down onto the bed with you. He let out a startled grunt as his back hit the mattress, his hands instinctively finding your waist to steady you as you climbed onto his lap.

“Angel—”

You cut him off with another kiss, this one messier, more desperate. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, pouring every bit of emotion you had into it.

San groaned against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as his self-control slipped further. You could feel the way his heart pounded beneath your touch, the way his breath hitched every time your hips shifted against his.

You knew he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

And you were determined to make him lose that last shred of restraint.

You trailed your lips away from his, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, then down his neck. San sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Y/N…” His voice was a warning, but it was weak—shaky.

You smirked against his skin. “What is it, Sannie?”

A curse slipped from his lips as your teeth grazed against his pulse point, followed by a sharp inhale when you sucked gently, leaving a mark behind.

You felt him tense beneath you, his grip on you almost bruising now.

“Precious, you’re playing with fire,” he muttered, his voice rough, strained.

You hummed against his skin, trailing another kiss lower. “Maybe I want to get burned.”

San’s breath stuttered, and for a second, you thought he might finally give in.

His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers brushing beneath the hem of your shirt. His nails scraped lightly against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

But then—he exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut before gripping your waist and flipping you onto your back in one swift motion.

A gasp left your lips as he hovered over you, his breath coming in uneven pants. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, a mix of frustration and want swirling in them.

“Angel,” he said, voice lower than before, “I swear to God…”

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “Swear what?”

San clenched his jaw. His thumb traced slow circles against your hip, his other hand braced beside your head, keeping himself from completely pressing against you.

“That if you weren’t still a little drunk, I’d show you exactly how much I want you.” His words were a low murmur, his lips just inches from yours.

But you didn’t stop. Instead, you pressed another kiss just below his jaw, your tongue flicking out to taste his skin before you sucked lightly, determined to leave a mark. A quiet groan rumbled in his chest, and you smirked against his skin, feeling victorious.

“You don’t fight fair,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your thighs, fingers teasing the hem of the shirt you wore.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes heavy with desire. “Then stop fighting.”

Something in San snapped.

His grip on you tightened, and in the next second, he flipped you onto your back, his body pressing firmly against yours. His lips crashed onto yours, no longer gentle—this was different, raw and filled with need.

A gasp escaped you as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you. His hands roamed your body, mapping out every curve, every inch of you that he had wanted for so long.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You grinned, breathless. “Good.”

He let out a low chuckle, but it was cut off when you tugged him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him harder, more desperately. His weight pressed you into the mattress, and you arched against him, wanting to be impossibly closer.

San’s lips trailed down your jaw, then your neck, his teeth grazing over the marks you had left on him just moments before. “You like marking me up, huh?” he muttered against your skin.

You hummed, threading your fingers through his hair. “You look good like this.”

His lips curled into a smirk, and then, without warning, he nipped at your pulse point, drawing a gasp from your lips.

Your fingers tightened in his hair as he continued his assault on your neck, pressing kisses, sucking lightly, then soothing each mark with his tongue. Your skin burned under his touch, your whole body alive with electricity.

“Sannie…” You whimpered, rolling your hips against him.

San groaned, his hands gripping your thighs to still your movements. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as he breathed heavily, trying to steady himself.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered, voice thick with want.

You grinned against his temple, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Then what are you gonna do about it?”

San lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

Then, in one swift motion, he pinned your wrists above your head, his smirk widening when you let out a surprised gasp.

“I guess,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours, “I’ll just have to teach you a lesson.”

And then he kissed you again—deeper, hungrier—no more hesitation. No more holding back.

But just as you thought you were about to get what you wanted, San exhaled a heavy breath, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. His hands still hovered at the edge of your dress, not yet moving, as though trying to find the strength to hold back.

You heard him murmur, barely above a whisper, “Tomorrow.” He said. He was serious this time. He wasn't about to let you win this battle, nor his mind.

You froze for a moment, your eyes searching his face. The words hit you harder than you expected, like a punch to the chest. You couldn’t believe it. After everything that had built up, after the heat between you both, he was pulling away.

"Tomorrow?" you repeated, voice tinged with disbelief and frustration. You pouted a bit, but it didn't work on him.

San’s lips curled into a soft, apologetic smile, though there was something gentle in his expression, a softness that you didn’t expect. “Yeah, tomorrow,” he repeated, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You’ve had enough for tonight.”

“But San…” you whined, a hint of desperation in your voice. “I don’t want to wait… I want this now.” You tried giving him those puppy eyes, and as much as they always worked, not this time...

His hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs gently brushing over your skin. “I know you do, love,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “But tonight isn’t the night. You’re still a little drunk, and I’m not gonna take advantage of you. Not like this.”

You pouted, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment flood through you. You had wanted him so badly, wanted to feel the warmth of his touch without hesitation. But even as you felt that desire stir within you, there was something in his gaze that made you pause.

San wasn’t doing this out of indifference. He was doing it because he cared, because he wanted to make sure that when this moment came, it would be right for both of you. And for that reason, you could almost forgive him.

“I’m not that drunk,” you muttered trying to convince him once more, your voice still soft, though the pout on your lips remained.

San chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know, darling. But tomorrow, when you’re sober, it’ll mean more.”

A whimper escaped you, and you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “But I want you now… please, San…”

He smiled, a mixture of tenderness and determination in his gaze. “Patience, baby. Tomorrow, I promise. But tonight, let’s just be here together. No rushing. Just… us.”

You huffed, exasperated, but the soft affection in his voice settled the rest of your emotions. You weren’t quite ready to let go of the heat between you, but you knew—deep down—that San was right. This wasn’t about just tonight. It was about something more, something deeper than the rush of desire.

“Fine,” you sighed, leaning back against the headboard as you looked up at him. “Tomorrow, then.” You knew you couldn't fight back anymore.

San gave you a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek. “Good girl,” he whispered, his voice quiet and soothing. “Get some sleep now. We’ll take our time tomorrow, I promise.

You huffed again, but there was no real bite to it. Despite your disappointment, you knew he was right.

San stood, his expression softening as he looked down at you, still lying in his bed, a little dejected and pouty from the earlier conversation. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before heading toward the closet to grab a change of clothes for you.

He returned with his favorite oversized hoodie and a pair of his boxers, the fabric soft and worn from the many times he’d worn them. As he approached the bed, you sat up slowly, still in your dress, feeling the weight of the night beginning to sink in. You had tried so hard to push the thoughts from your mind, but they kept resurfacing, like waves crashing relentlessly against the shore. The truth of what had happened—how your "friends" had used you, manipulated your kindness—seemed so much more painful now that the haze of alcohol was starting to lift.

You tried to keep your composure, but the sting in your chest was undeniable. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of your dress as you glanced up at San, who was kneeling beside you, his face soft with concern. He gently placed the clothes in your lap, but before you could respond, the emotions you’d been holding back all night began to swell up again. You swallowed thickly, trying to hold back the tears, but they were already threatening to spill over. You let out a tiny whimper.

“Hey,” San said, his voice soft but steady. He reached out to touch your shoulder, his fingers warm against your skin. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it.”

You shook your head, fighting to keep it together. “I just… I don’t know why they’d do that to me,” you muttered, the words feeling heavy in your throat. “I thought they were my friends, but it turns out they only wanted me around for drinks, for the fun. They didn’t care about me at all.”

San’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. But he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he took a deep breath and slowly helped you out of your dress, his hands gentle, as if trying to keep you from falling apart. You were gorgeous he thought. You were so beautiful. Sometimes he thought why didn't you have a boyfriend.. But now he had a chance. You loved him and he loved you.

Every movement, every brush of his fingers against your skin felt like an anchor, pulling you back from the storm swirling inside your chest. But the hurt was still there, gnawing at you, and the tears couldn’t be stopped.

Once you were dressed in his oversized hoodie and a pair of boxers, you climbed into his bed, curling up beneath the covers. The warmth of the fabric, the scent of him all around you, should’ve made you feel better—but it didn’t. Not yet.

San followed you into the bed, slipping under the covers and wrapping his arms around you. You nestled against his chest, trying to find solace in his warmth, but your mind refused to let go of the images from earlier. How your "friends" had abandoned you, laughed about you behind your back, and used you when it suited them. You had trusted them. You had believed in them. But it had all been a lie.

“I don’t get it, San,” you whispered, the tears falling freely now. “I don’t get why they’d do that. Why didn’t they just tell me? Why didn’t they treat me like I mattered?” You felt a tear run down your face.

San’s chest tightened at the sound of your voice cracking, and he pulled you in even closer as if trying to shield you from the world and everything that had hurt you. He didn’t speak right away, allowing you the space to cry, to release the pain that had built up in you for so long. It wasn’t about the drinks, the party—it was about the betrayal. It was about realizing that the people you had opened your heart to had never truly cared.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” San finally spoke, his voice low but firm. “You cared. You trusted. That’s not a mistake.”

“But they… they used me, San,” you choked out, your words shaking. "They were never my friends.”

“They never deserved your friendship,” he said quietly, his voice full of conviction. “You were always just too good to them. You didn’t deserve that, Y/N. Not from anyone.”

You sniffed, wiping your eyes, but the hurt wasn’t going away. It felt like a weight on your chest that was too heavy to bear. You felt exposed—vulnerable. You had always tried so hard to be there for people, but in the end, they had all just taken what they could get and left you empty.

“But why did I have to find out this way?” you asked, your voice soft and broken. “Why couldn’t they just be honest with me from the start?”

San’s arms tightened around you again, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Because people who don’t know how to appreciate what they have, they always take. And when they take everything, they leave you with nothing.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. The anger was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. It was more of a dull ache now. The betrayal was fresh, and it still hurt—but somehow, with San holding you, with him comforting you, it didn’t seem as insurmountable. He made you feel like maybe things could be okay again, eventually.

“You don’t have to be alone in this,” San whispered, his voice full of a tenderness you weren’t used to hearing. “Not anymore. You’ve got me, Y/N. You’ve always had me.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, your teary eyes meeting his. There was so much unspoken in the air, so many things left unsaid, but somehow, the silence between you both felt like an unbreakable bond. The pain, the rawness—it was still there, but there was also something else.

Something deeper.

“You’re the only one who’s ever really been there for me,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his gaze. “I don’t want to lose you, San. Please don’t let me go. I… I need you.” You whimper out.

San’s hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away the fresh tear that had fallen. His gaze softened, but there was a hint of hesitation in his eyes. He took a slow, steady breath, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he spoke.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt a little comforted by his words, but the storm inside of you wasn’t quite over yet. As you closed your eyes and leaned into him once more, the weight of everything that had happened—the hurt, the betrayal, the anger—still lingered like an invisible cloud. It wasn’t gone. And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, it was hard not to wonder…

San’s hand stroked your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured. “I’ll be here with you. No matter what happens, I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion beginning to catch up with you. It wasn’t just physical fatigue—it was emotional, the weight of everything you had experienced tonight. And yet, despite it all, you felt a sense of peace settle over you as you allowed yourself to let go of the fear, just for a moment.

“I love you, Choi San..”

“I love you too, my perfect angel...”

As San tucked you into his side, he gave you a kiss on your forehead and then a peck on your lips., your mind wandered back to earlier—to the betrayal, to the hurt, to the people who had never deserved your trust. But now, lying next to him, feeling his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself trust again...

[bogleech]

I'm actually not going to let this go until Gerry is at least as widely ridiculed as Human Pet Guy. That guy still didn't do anything half as disturbed as this fucking loser, let me pull up my favorites again:

Gerry messaging me from an alt pretending not to be an alt

Gerry claiming again that it's antisemitic of me to say the IDF are bad guys who do not represent the entire Jewish population. This is not, in fact, the same as saying they're "not jews anymore." Also bragging about supposedly baiting and sealioning me into saying whatever they believe I said wrong. I guess the stupid ass hell thing????

Calling me a "blorbo" like I'm a fictional character rather than a human. Also, I went and got the original hell comment to double check it:

.....This doesn't even say the IDF should go to hell. It says I hope people "excusing" the IDF's actions should go to hell, I just typoe'd it as "excising." I guess Gerry successfully gaslit me, since I fully believed I had said specifically "the IDF go to hell." Thanks!

Gerry accusing me of "lumping them in as pro genocide" in response to a comment in which I specifically state I do not see them that way. How else am I supposed to read them NOW, though? Because I defined that as "someone who thinks kids deserve bombs dropped on them," and Gerry's response is "how dare you say that about me......???????" What?? Not once do they ever simply say "no one deserves their town to be bombed" or anything like that. They absolutely refuse, because they do in fact believe that it's okay to bomb a whole community if some of that community might hypothetically be "hamas." They do in fact think it's acceptable that people who never hurt anyone else should die that way for some sort of greater good, or that only hamas can be blamed for those deaths by "forcing the hand" of the ones with those bombs.

Gerry admitting the IDF bombs, loots and tortures, even though most comments they call antisemitic are calling out just that very behavior. Gerry to my knowledge has never willingly blamed anything negative on the IDF since this comment and continues to attack people who do.

Gerry admitting the honest core of their beliefs and behavior. This isn't really about me, though. I mean, part of it is, I can definitely be vindictive. But I mostly ignored this asshole for the past year until the doxx comment, and now I'm getting more messages than ever from people who feel actually hurt and terrorized by this motherfucker. I've suffered ZERO fallout from their attacks, I am evidently too big I guess, but there are people who change their username to hide from this piece of shit, even fucking minors who dared to say "free palestine" once. Then there's @stoptheantisemitism, who is NOT gerry, but is impersonated by gerry's alt account @spottheantisemitism and other alt accounts, @stop-the-antisemitism and of course @stop--the--antisemitism in this very thread. Creating so many variants is a deliberate attempt to make it as hard as possible for casual rebloggers to remember which one is the real person. I mean, two alts only add dashes to the same username, and the other only moves one letter "p." I have no idea how tumblr staff can rationalize that as okay. But, again, if there's a guy who can't show his face without human pet jokes because he was just generally creepy, or everyone remembers sixpenceee's family having slaves, why can a user devote this much of their miserable life to "baiting and sealioning" people from multiple accounts and still have a usable blog left? ONE LAST THING!!!!!!!

In the notes on this very post, gerry is so bent on finding people to call out and slander they tried to find "misogyny" in a comment saying that women like studying bugs????????

Gerrysherry, the user who tells people I'm antisemitic because I think IDF soldiers are killing innocent civilians (rather than framed by some kind of Hamas conspiracy), believes my real name was a secret that I only just now accidentally revealed rather than the default way I've signed all my web content since the 1990's. Also believes that I have an employer, that "telling my parents" would affect a grown man, that my hippie mom would disagree with me anyway, and that the hatemail they got last year was all me rather than the natural and inevitable fallout of the supremely fucked up shit they say about the victims of a mass murder. Apparently would gleefully leap at any hypothetical chance at "doxxing" me though. Good to know. Literally wishes they could ruin my real actual life because I don't think Netanyahu is a hero.

[opal-owl-flight]

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

[00valentina-writes00]

Greyson who has a wife that calls her mommy while going at it (headcanons)

♡♥︎Callin her Mommy♥︎♡

♥︎ The first time you call her Mommy, she freezes for a second—processing it, rolling the word over in her mind—before a slow, knowing smirk spreads across her lips. “Is that so, darling?”

♥︎ That one little word flips a switch in her. She was already dominant, already in control, but now? Now, she takes full ownership of you.

♥︎ The moment it slips from your lips, she immediately starts treating you differently—firmer, more possessive, more attuned to every little noise and reaction you give her.

♥︎ She leans into the title completely, using it against you in the filthiest ways—“Mommy knows what’s best, doesn’t she?” or “Come on, sweetheart, be a good girl for Mommy.”

♥︎ It absolutely ruins her when you whimper it while you’re right on the edge—gripping onto her for dear life, pleading for her to let you cum.

♥︎ She loves how it makes you more submissive without her even trying—just the way you melt under her touch, the way your voice gets all breathy when you say it.

♥︎ But if you ever try to use it to get out of trouble? That smug little smirk appears as she tilts your chin up, “Oh, you think that’s going to work on me, do you?”

♥︎ She starts using it to establish even more control—“Say it properly, love. What do you call me?”—and she won’t touch you until you do.

♥︎ If you say it in a needy, desperate voice, she might take pity on you… or she might decide to tease you for another hour just because she loves seeing you squirm.

♥︎ She adores the contrast—how strong and commanding she is, how completely she dominates you, but the moment you call her Mommy, you’re nothing but a whimpering mess in her hands.

♥︎ If you try to fight it, acting like it doesn’t make you weak in the knees, she’ll absolutely push you—whispering it in your ear, saying things like “You like when Mommy takes care of you, don’t you?” just to watch you fall apart.

♥︎ If she’s in a particularly soft mood, she leans into the caretaker aspect—stroking your hair, murmuring praise, holding you close while making you feel so small under her touch.

♥︎ But when she’s rough? Oh, it turns into something else. She has you on your hands and knees, gripping your hips tightly as she growls, “Isn’t this what you wanted, baby? To be fucked by Mommy until you can’t think straight?”

♥︎ She uses the title against you outside the bedroom too—resting a hand on your thigh at dinner, murmuring, “What’s wrong, love? Feeling needy for Mommy already?” just to see you squirm.

♥︎ If you ever tease her with it in public—maybe leaning in and whispering “Thank you, Mommy” in her ear just to see her reaction—oh, you’re in trouble. She’ll lean in just as close and murmur, “Just wait until I get you home, sweetheart.”

♥︎ She has a very strict rule: if you call her Mommy, then you have to listen to everything she says. No exceptions.

♥︎ If you slip up and say it in a bratty tone when you’re begging? Her smirk grows, her grip tightens, and suddenly you’re being flipped onto your stomach with a firm “Say it again, baby. Say it properly.”

♥︎ If she’s feeling extra mean, she makes you earn the right to call her Mommy—won’t let you say it until she decides you’ve been good enough for her.

♥︎ On the rare occasion she lets you take control for a moment, she absolutely melts if you cup her face and say, “Mommy looks so pretty like this.” It wrecks her. Completely.

♥︎ But the second she regains her composure? You’re done for. She’s pinning you down, making you repeat yourself as she ruins you.

♥︎ If you ever try to deny that you like calling her Mommy, she’ll get you so deep in pleasure that you say it instinctively—then she’ll smirk down at you, “Told you so, sweetheart.”

♥︎ She adores the contrast between how strong she is and how small she can make you feel—tipping your chin up, making you look her in the eye while she murmurs, “That’s my girl.”

♥︎ She loves holding your wrists above your head while she takes her time with you, whispering, “Mommy knows exactly what you need.”

♥︎ If she catches you staring at her hands while she’s working, she’ll chuckle and say something like, “You keep looking at me like that, and you’re going to have a real problem later, baby.”

♥︎ She has a habit of tugging your hair back when she’s in control, just to hear you gasp out “Mommy” with that breathless little whimper.

♥︎ She’s a very patient tease—if you get needy, she’ll simply stroke your cheek, kiss your forehead, and say, “Good girls wait for Mommy, don’t they?”

♥︎ The way you say it affects her mood—if you say it in a bratty way? She’s pinning you down, making you beg properly. If you say it in a soft, needy voice? Oh, she melts and gives you exactly what you want.

♥︎ She always makes sure you feel taken care of afterward—pulling you into her arms, stroking your hair, murmuring, “Mommy’s got you, baby. You did so well for me.”

♥︎ If you ever try to keep quiet during sex, she’ll grip your jaw, forcing you to look at her as she demands, “Say it for me, sweetheart.”

♥︎ She gets a thrill from hearing you say it when she’s taking you apart—especially when it turns into a desperate, helpless whimper against her skin.

♥︎ She absolutely adores when you bury your face in her neck and moan, “Mommy, please”—it makes her instantly feral.

♥︎ If she catches you daydreaming about it—getting all quiet and flustered—she’ll smirk and say, “Thinking about Mommy again, aren’t you?”

[that-hazbin]

Things Alastor Has Definitely Said 6

Charlie: Alright, everyone! Any more suggestions for our activity today? We have art therapy, karaoke, and go fish!

Alastor: Hmm... How about red flag, green flag?

Charlie: ... Do you mean red light, green light?

Alastor: No, no, dear. Red flag green flag is where you share a story about an interaction you had with another person, and the people you share it with tell you whether the person you spoke about is a red flag, or a green flag!

Charlie: That... actually sounds like a GREAT bonding activity!

Alastor: Isn't it? Me and Rosie play it all the time!

Charlie: Oh!

Alastor: We usually use it to decide whether or not she should eat her current husband. HAH!

Charlie: Oh.

—

Angel: Wait, so you support women's rights?

Alastor: Yes, as well as women's wrongs! Mostly women's wrongs.

Alastor: Also, I don't support Vaggie's rights, I consider that something separate.

Vaggie: Fuck you too, asshole.

—

Alastor: *taps Lucifer's head* Is this thing on?

—

Lucifer: There's no way he'll want to come with, we're going to a drag show! This old-timey bastard's heart would give out!

Alastor: I was born with feminine anatomy and wore suits until people forgot about it. I helped men and women crossdress backstage for performances. The clubs I frequented while alive would make your ancient heart sputter and fail with a dramatic puff of smoke.

Lucifer:

Alastor: Why does everyone assume we didn't have fun in the 1920s?

—

Alastor: Angel, your pig is somehow breaking into my room. Do something about it.

Angel: What? Why is he even going to your room?

Alastor: I assume it's because he wants to frolic in my bayou, pigs like mud, correct? In any case, unless you want your pig to be eaten by my gators, you best stop him.

Angel: You have a swamp in your room? You have fuckin' GATORS?!

Alastor: Bayou, Angel, bayou. Goodness, get your hearing checked.

—

Alastor: So! After my near-death experience after facing Adam—

Charlie: WHAT?!

Alastor: Hush, dear, let me finish!

Alastor: As I was saying, after my near-death experience, I decided to write a will in case the angels decide to retaliate for ending the last extermination!

Alastor: My body will go to Rosie!

Vaggie: Gross.

Alastor: Shut up, just for that, you get nothing. Anyways, Lucifer gets my parenting books.

Lucifer: Oh you motherfucker—

Alastor: Husk gets his soul back, obviously, as well as my tarot cards. Nifty gets my bone collection. Angel gets my wardrobe, including my lingerie—

Angel: YOUR WHAT?!

Alastor: And Charlie gets everything else!

Charlie: I what?

Alastor: Everything else! My radio tower, my magic tomes, my bayou, my pet alligator Betty— Oh I'll have to introduce you to her, can't have her thinking you're food!

Charlie: Alastor, that is very sweet of you and I'm genuinely honored, but can we go back to the part where you mentioned that Adam nearly fucking killed you?

Alastor: I'd rather not! :)

[bunnyinvanilla]

scary dog privilege with your old, gruff and scary sugar daddy!john price?

given you’re always a well mannered girl, you never cause conflicts, but if something were to happen with someone and you wanted to take advantage of your daddy being scary, old, intimidating and huge to just defend you?

maybe at the bar, a rude costumer not even lifting their eyes from the table as they ordered something else from you, without acknowledging your presence or saying hi, politely.

”another beer with ice,”

you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, and tilted your head, speaking with your usual polite and sweet voice. “im sorry?” “another beer, at my table” same tone, same words, not even a smile.

clearly you hadn’t heard that wrong — your expression softened, and you lowered your notebook, looking like an upset bunny who’d just gotten offended,

you were always so sweet and kind with everyone, and john often tried to teach you that not everyone would always reciprocate your kindness, he wanted to warn you about mean, rude people who would upset his little girl :(

but you always got sad, not understanding why people couldn’t just be nice.

“no, sir, excuse me, i was waiting for you to say please, you could at least look at me you know..”

he frowned, narrowing his eyes like you’d said the most incoherent thing in the world, and gave you an ironic look “it’s your job to serve me a drink, dear”

you blinked your eyes, dumbfounded, hoping he’d understand what you were gently trying to say, keeping a low tone of voice “yes, and as a human being, your job is to be polite and kind? where are your manners?”

“little lady, what’s your problem? im paying you, you’re not giving me a gift, little girl”

“yet kindness is free,” you were undeterred, crossing your arms over your blouse and giving him an exasperated look, tilting your hip.

he shifted on his chair, crossing his legs together and throwing his arm behind the chair’s head. “let me speak with the manager, then”

“oh, you can speak directly to my boss, if you’d like” you shrugged, aware of how that situation would end up, and strolled down to john’s usual private table, walking calmly and quietly.

once in front of him, you leaned forward and pressed your hands flat against the wooden table’s surface, stretching your arms, wearing the most innocent and docile look “daddy,”

john turned his attention towards you, his half empty glass of whiskey trapped between his firm, thick fingers “there’s the love of my life, what is it, doll face?”

you leaned closer to him, tilting your head slightly, practically almost bending over his seat “a costumer wants to talk to you, he’s gonna complain about me because i wouldn’t serve him unless he asked politely,”

you blinked your dollish, doe eyes at him, so big and round and innocent they told him ‘take my defense and then fuck me, please’, a little pout making you push out your bottom lip.

”does he now…” john muttered under his breath, his warm eyes slowly taking in every inch of your figure, your lacy thigh highs and uniform skirt — he lifted is glass to let the liquid trail down his throat with a swift, fast seep, before setting it down “aight, doll, daddy’ll take care of it, princess, don’t worry”

he gripped the armrest of his chair, pushing himself up to a standing position, but you quickly reached for him and gently grabbed him by the sleeve

“he wasn’t mean, sir, he just didn’t want to say please and you know how much that upsets me..please don’t get angry at him” the way you furrowed your brows together was so adorable price had to physically restrain himself from just picking you up and throw you over his buff shoulders

but he gave you a little frown, lifting his hand to pinch your chin affectionately, grabbing it in between his forefinger and thumb “how many times have i told you you’re always too nice, love? people are gonna take advantage of that, doll”

you straightened your back, locking your hands together behind your back and lifted your chin, letting him squeeze your it again “but that’s why I have you to come rescue me, daddy…”

he let out a deep chuckle, briefly shaking his head before he let go of your chin with a last, little squeeze “these blokes can’t even let this poor old man rest in peace, how can someone be rude to such a sweet girl, they really like pissing me off huh? got the nerve to disrespect my girl”

and with that, he walked past you, towards the guy who’d just been too busy to ask you nicely, or say a simple ‘please’’ — but john had promised he’d never let anyone mistreat his polite girl’s manners, especially inside his own bar.

[thewavesofmel]

The Voicemail

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Hello! I have read some Bucky Barnes fanfics over the years and have written some other fanfiction on AO3 myself, but never felt brave enough to write anything like this. So this is my first try writing a Bucky Barnes X Reader fanfic and wrote something today on the spur of the moment and felt brave enough to post it. Depending on how I feel, I may post this on AO3 too. Apologies in advance for any errors!  Additionally, this is my own writing, and I do no consent to it being posted as original content by any other individuals other than myself.

Summary: Bucky gets a voicemail from you after two months of not seeing each other. 

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, Minors DNI. Smut. With some plot. Friends with benefits. Dirty Talk. Mutual Masturbation. Phone sex (kinda). Voicemail. 

************************************************************************

It’s been two months. Two months of texts almost sent and a finger hovering over your name in his contacts. Two months without your voice, your smile…your touch..your kiss…your moans...and your body. Two months without you. The decision was mutual. You both decided it was for the best. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it was when you both were together. No one made him feel as good as you did. No one knew their way around his body like you did. You knew exactly what made him feel good and how to get him off. You respected his limits and were always eager to try new things. You both have the philosophy of pleasing your lover as much as possible and at least three orgasms before the next round. At first, you both were amazing for each other. You both were each other's confidant and stress relief. You were each other's solace, both when life got hard or when you just needed to feel someone else's body on yours. And somewhere it just all fell apart and got too messy and too intense. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you feel. He couldn’t help but miss the sound you make when you cum and how sweet you tasted when his tongue was deep inside you.  He went through the motions, he went on missions, spent time with the team, went to his therapist, but the thought of you was constantly in the back of his head. The decision to not speak to each other after the break-up wasn’t agreed on or even said, it just happened. He longed to speak to you. God, he wanted to do so much more than just talk. He wanted to fuck you slow and deep just like you liked. Until you begged him to go faster and deeper making you scream out his name. But if he couldn’t have that, he at least wanted to at least just hear your voice. But at the same time, he didn’t even know what to say. So he just didn’t say anything, it was just easier. He thought you would do the same. Until he was proven wrong. 

That night he just got back to his apartment after a week-long mission. It was tedious and intense. As soon as he got home he just wanted to shower and sleep. And if sleep wouldn’t come, he just wanted to fucking lay down for more than 10 minutes. He pushes his still wet hair out of his face as he walks from the bathroom to the bed in comfortable sweatpants. He plops himself on the bed to lay down and sighs deeply with the urge to just roll over and shut his eyes. He decided to check his phone before he wrestles with his sleep and what he sees makes him sit straight up. 

It’s a voicemail. He must have had his phone on silent, he didn’t even hear it ring. Only a few people would call him at this time of the night, usually for a mission. But it wasn’t any of them, it was you. 

Maybe he shouldn’t listen to it. Maybe not hearing from each other if for the best. But all he could think about was hearing your voice. He couldn’t open the message fast enough and pressed play. 

“Hey, it's me.” your voice starts and his breath catches as he hears you.  

“I wanted to... I don't know, I just wanted to... I shouldn't even be calling you, should I? We hadn’t really said we should stop talking to each other. But it’s just… you know.” you stop to sigh and he sighs in agreement.

“But we did make an agreement to stop seeing each other. And I know we said it wasn't a good idea, but I just... I just can't stop thinking about you” you say softly and he feels his heart start to pound. You missed him too and it felt so good to hear you say it. He almost played that part over just to hear you say it again but he wanted to hear what else you had to say. 

“I just wanted to call you and hear your voice. I miss you. I really do. I miss... I miss talking to you. I miss... being around you. I... I miss your touch. I miss kissing you. God damn it, I miss fucking you. Um... I know that... us being... in the same room is difficult and I think that's why we are avoiding each other but I just….I don't want you to…I want you to be close to me because when you're close to me…fuck, so many things happen.” you breathe out, sounding lost in thought. And he breathes with you, his body starting to react to your words. The same tingle he gets in his body starts to make him heat up and he bites his lip.

“I… I... well... First of all, I get out of breath like how I feel out of breath now. Um, I, uh... My heart starts pumping fast. And, um... My body, it feels tingly. All over. And, um... And... And I start to get... So freaking... wet. Just your voice makes me so wet.” you slightly moan. 

“Fuck baby” he whispers in response and he can’t help but let out a small whimper. His cock grows hard at hearing how wet he makes you and the effect he has on you.

“And I... I don't want to let that go, honestly. The way you touch me and how you caress me. The way you know that I like it when you bite my ear. And you trail your tongue from my chest to my neck. Just the right spots to kiss and bite. And the way you kiss all over my body…. how you touch…the way you know how to touch my breasts…and pinch my nipples just right…and how you look into my eyes when you suck on them… fuck you know how wet that makes me.” you continue on in that same tone you use when his fingers are deep inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. He takes his free hand and starts to rub on his cock through his sweatpants. Hearing that sweet voice filled with need turns him on so much and it’s been so long without you. 

“And fuck… your hands…both of them are perfect…the way your fingers are so…justt so fucking good…. and the way you know to finger me, not too fast, not too slow, but just right…how you curl your fingers right up into my G spot…and rub my clit…makes me cum so hard on those fingers” you whimper. By now he picks up on the rustling and wet sounds along with your words. You are touching yourself while you talk and you aren’t trying to hide it. And by now, he fully has his cock out and can’t help but stroke himself right along with you, desperate to hear more. 

“And then the way that you... damn the way that you fuck me. You know just how to fuck me. Having you inside of me…it feels so fucking good. The way that you start slow, and you keep going…going so deep ... .it's amazing. Mmmm fuck so amazing, fuck baby.” you start to struggle with your words and the sounds of you rubbing and fingering yourself intensify. He fucking loves when you struggle with your words like that when you are feeling good. It spurs him to start to stroke himself faster.  

“Fuck princess, you sound so so fucking good” he moans out as he strokes and continues to listen.

“But then…when I say I need more…you just… fuck…you just pound right into me… so fucking fast and deep…you pound into me so good until I can’t feel my fucking legs… and you fill me up so good… and the way you rub my clit when you pound into my pussy…your moans when you are deep inside of me…and how you tell me what a good girl I am, and tell me how I feel so good, and tell me how close you are and how you want to feel me squeeze your cock as I am about to cum…and then you go even deeper…and fuckkkkkk….baby it makes me cum so fucking hard. I want that…fuck baby, fuck I want you baby I-” you suddenly stop talking cry out his name and as soon as he hears you cry out he cums. He cums hard all over his hand and throws his head back as he moans out your name. He hasn’t cum with you in so long and it feels so fucking good. He takes a moment to catch his breath as he listens to you do the same. 

“I…I miss that so much. I miss you so much. The way you take care of me after….how you lay me on your chest and kiss me gently and... hold me in your arms. I miss that. I…want it back. I know it's a lot and I know that we shouldn't… but fuck… I don't think I can do without it. I miss that. I miss you.” you whisper to him and the message ends. 

He sits and stares at his phone as his body reacts. Reacts to the desire and desperation he hears in your voice. Your need for him. You need him. You want him. And fuck, he wanted you. Before he could realize what he was doing, he was cleaning himself up, putting on a fresh shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket with his black boots. He grabbed his keys, locked up, and was out the door. You wanted him. You needed him. And he wouldn’t keep you waiting a minute longer.