#so you give them your blessing to go and fuck it out of their systems somewhere else

[zhoudadudugongjin]

'For Xuande and Zilong parting was difficult, and they held onto one another tearfully in their reluctance to be separated. "I thought Gongsun Zan was a true hero," Zilong sighed, "but now I see I was wrong. His conduct today befits a Yuan Shao!" "Bear up and serve him well for now," Xuande said. "Time will bring us together again."'

Romance of the Three Kingdoms - Luo Guanzhong

[cakelitter]

Good for 'ya

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: bicep riding, dirty talking, fantasizing, established relationship, mostly praise, fingering, oral (f receive)

summary: When you first started seeing each other it was hard to keep your eyes off of his arms, elbows placed on the table with his knuckles tucked beneath his chin, causing the shirt he’s wearing to become much tighter. Your thighs rubbing against each other as your mind wanders off. How would it feel to ride them?

words: 833

a/n: do NOT ask me where this came from, actually it's pretty obvious. Please please please tell me that you guys get it and someone matches my freak.

Leon’s arms?

You could go on and on about them.

The way his biceps flex whenever he picks up the phone, chiseled and defined, must be sculpted by the most talented Greek sculptor out there. The power of Hercules himself, the size of your fucking head, insanely heavy too.

Your definition of a good day is the day that Leon decides to bless you by wearing a sleeveless shirt, heart eyes and a wagging tail as you take all of it in. Such a comfortable pillow for you to rest your head on as the two of you lay in bed, his other arm pulling your chest flush against his.

Your fingers trace down the defined muscle, enamored by the way it flexes beneath your touch. Looks bitable, he probably wouldn’t like it, but you sure as hell would.

Forearms?

Chef’s kiss.

Grabbing them as he puts you in a gentle chokehold, head dropping down to kiss your cheek. Veins spreading like ivy as his arm hair decorates the top, their color deepening along with his hair, the golden blonde locks fading with each passing day.

Your eyes drink up the line that forms between the two muscles when he crosses his arms, or how tight the sleeves of his white button up shirt gets around them. Linking your arms together anywhere you go; practically skipping with glee, showing them off like they’re a product of your hard work.

When you first started seeing each other it was hard to keep your eyes off of his arms, elbows placed on the table with his knuckles tucked beneath his chin, causing the shirt he’s wearing to become much tighter. Your thighs rubbing against each other as your mind wanders off.

How would it feel to ride them? Your clit rutting against the soft skin, your arousal coating his arms, the area beneath you becoming slippery the more you thrust against it.

All that gawking eventually got you caught, managing to convince you to blurt out your filthy thoughts.

You thought that he wouldn’t like it, perhaps even get weirded out. But to your delight, you find yourself whining as you rut your slippery cunt on his bicep, blue eyes fixated on your face as you do so.

“There you go, sweetheart.”

“Feels nice to get it out of your system, huh?”

More than nice actually, you’re having the time of your life. First time riding a man’s biceps, but definitely won’t be the last. You bite your lower lip stifling a groan as you watch him jerk off to the sight of you.

The arm beneath you flexes, giving you more friction to work with as you rock your hips even harder, moans slipping out of your puffy lips. You cling to the mattress beneath you for dear life, your thighs beginning to quiver. “Look at you, baby; so fucking sexy.”

Your body trembles as you cum on his arm, mind going hazy. His other hand abandoning his fat cock and reaching over to rub your pudgy clit, causing you to squirm and whimper from over sensitivity as he plays with you.

“Such a slutty pussy.”

His hands.

Calloused and rough from the nature of his work, but much bigger than yours. He fiddles with your fingers, massaging the tender skin before bringing your hand up to kiss it.

Such a gentleman, except when that same hand slaps your ass at any chance it gets, leaving hot prints on the delicate skin.

His palms are large, littered with a few scars here and there, those same veins that are on his forearms, appearing again on the back of his hand. His fingers are thick; not as thick as his cock, but sure as hell feel amazing when they pump inside of you.

Slowly slipping beneath the band of your panties and rubbing your clit, dipping down to collect some of your arousal before spreading it on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The toe curling stretch you first feel from only one finger, moving in and out of your squelching heat, before he adds another one.

They scissor you open then curl to hit your g-spot, your thighs closing from the blissful sensation, his free hand grabbing one them, prying it open again.

“Taking my fingers so well, sweetheart. Bet you’d take my cock just as well.”

He’d whisper sweet praise as his digits move in and out of you over and over again till you’re subconsciously spreading your legs even further.

Sometimes when he’s between your thighs, his mouth would connect to your clit, licking and sucking at it while his fingers continue their motion. You mewl, release crashing over you, your cunt pulsing around his fingers causing him to bite his lip. “So easy.”

Pulling them out, he’d reach over, hovering them above your lips. Your mouth opens, sucking hungrily, tasting yourself on his fingers; your hand holding his arm in place as you come down from your high.

“That’s my good girl.”

divider by: @/enchanthings

[chvoswxtch]

like a prayer

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: you want matt for dessert.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: I haven't written for our favorite dumbass in awhile, and after finishing another rewatch of dd, he was heavy on the brain (pun intended). this song came on the other day and I immediately thought of matty, so here we are.

word count: 1k

i’m down on my knees / i can take you there

Matt hadn’t even had a chance to shut the front door to his apartment behind himself before you were pushing him up against the wall, claiming his mouth in a deeply sensual kiss, blindly fumbling with the buckle of his belt. His cane slipped from his right hand, falling to the floor with a loud clatter that echoed in his silent apartment, and the dessert you’d gotten to go was also long forgotten, haphazardly tossed onto the side table in the entryway so Matt’s hands could find their home on your waist instead.

Before Matt’s brain could even catch up to what was happening, you’d pushed his pants and briefs halfway down his muscular thighs and sank down to your knees below him. The second the warmth of your mouth enveloped the sensitive head of his cock, Matt’s jaw went slack, and his head fell back against the wall behind him with a soft thud.

Instantly, every single one of his senses was completely overwhelmed. Your soft hands grasped onto his thighs and he shivered feeling a chilled raindrop that had been lingering on your knuckle slip down onto his heated skin. The bold scent of espresso in the tiramisu that had been abandoned on the side table was overpowered by the fragrance of arousal seeping through the thin cotton material of your panties. That combined with the aroma of your warm spicy perfume intermingled with remnants of fresh rain, and the natural scent of your skin that was just uniquely you, was knocking Matt out of equilibrium.

Matt’s fingers slipped into your roots, tangling into your tresses to give them a gentle tug while a soft grunt tore from his throat. Your tongue felt like velvet gliding along the underside of his cock, flicking over a pulsating vein, swirling around the tip in a slow and seductive manner. Matt was a giver, but God, so were you. The way you took your time and savored the taste of him and the feeling of his heavy cock against your eager tongue was torturous in the most tantalizing way. Your mouth was just as warm and wet as your cunt, and sometimes Matt struggled to decide which one he preferred being inside of.

He couldn’t stop himself from tenuously shifting his hips forward, slipping a few more inches of himself past your welcoming lips. The way you moaned around him had him shuddering, and he whimpered at the way the vibrations of your own pleasure traveled throughout his entire nervous system, causing his toes to curl in his shoes. He gripped harder at your roots, earning another erotic moan from deep within your chest, and even though Catholic guilt was practically embedded in his DNA, the raw hedonistic desire he felt was far more powerful, and you didn’t seem to mind that he was taking over to subtly fuck your mouth. 

God, your mouth felt like pure heaven. Matt knew he didn’t deserve to be let through the pearly gates of your soft lips. He was a sinner, and he didn’t deserve to be blessed and absolved by the saliva coating his cock and dribbling down your chin. Only an angel as sweet as you would welcome the Devil somewhere he had been banished from. Matt’s moans were growing in volume the closer he got to gratification. He was being selfish, God he was being so fucking selfish right now, taking complete advantage of your selflessness, but your pussy was practically dripping onto the floorboards beneath you, and he could taste just how much you enjoyed having his cock in your mouth on his own tongue. 

You wanted this. You wanted him. And Matt couldn’t deny you if he tried. If you wanted the moon and Saturn, and every single star in the sky, he’d find a way to get them for you. 

Matt’s mind was blank. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own labored breathing and racing heartbeat, your soft moans of raw enjoyment, and the way the material of your soaked panties rubbed along your wet folds when you shuffled closer on your knees. Feeling his tip reach the back of your throat and your nose flush against his pubic bone, he began to recite a prayer of your name, loud enough for the entire building to hear. The muscles in his lower abdomen tightened and contracted, and if the wall behind him hadn’t been supporting the burden of his body weight, he would’ve collapsed and joined you on his own knees right then.

His hips stuttered as wave after wave of his gratitude coated the back of your throat, which you were all too eager to welcome, swallowing every drop of his generous offering. Matt let go of your hair, opting to hold the back of your head gently instead, using you as an anchor to tether himself to avoid getting lost in sensory overload. He let out a desperate whimper when your warm mouth escaped him, exposing his softened cock to the drastic change in temperature in his apartment that had goosebumps spreading along his bare flesh. He was panting heavily, like he’d been trapped under a current and had finally breached the surface in search of oxygen.

With his senses so overwhelmed, he didn’t notice that you’d risen from your knees, and his body jolted in surprise when he felt your soft hands caressing his scruffy cheeks. He immediately encircled his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, burying his face into your neck to inhale your scent deeply. He needed to ground himself. He needed you. A soft noise of appreciation sounded in the back of his throat when your fingers slipped into his hair, your nails faintly scratching at his scalp in a way that had him faintly moaning into the juncture of your neck where your throat met your collarbone. Your breath was warm against the shell of his ear, and despite how heated his skin was at the moment, your sultry whisper sent a shiver down his spine.

“Ready for dessert now, baby?”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover  @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejloveb0t @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts @starsm00n @mentallyunstablebish @spiritofthewriter @merleisapartygod @powellssaturn @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek

[shaisuki]

"fuck, princess. you will be the death of me."

the scar on the corner of his mouth moves as his lips twitches into a smirk. involuntarily licking his scar.

'hm?" you hum, looking at him with such curiosity. making your head tilt sideways like kittens do when trying to comprehend something.

"you're wearing my shirt, princess."

"yeah." you breath out. grabbing the hem of his white shirt. fully emphasizing that it is his what you are wearing. although a little bit tight to you.

he can see the your stomach stretching out his shirt and squished in between the rolls of your stomach. hardened nipples peeking through the confines of clothing. his dark emerald eyes drinking in the sight of you.

reaching the peak of domesticity and homely feeling running in his system.

his gorgeous, chubby wife. dressed in his clothes.

"i miss you so much and i thought wearing it would me feel less lonely." you explained, innocently fluttering your eyelashes at him with a gentle smile in your lips.

"miss me?" he asks, grabbing your soft jaw with his hands, squishing the flesh in them.

"yeah."

legs raised, your soft thick thighs pressing in your stomach while toji roughly drills his cock into your sopping wet cunt. his hands splayed besides you. gripping in the sheet while he got you pinned under him.

"t-toji..." you called his name. your whole body taking the blow of his desperate thrusts. every pound you take got your body shaking. toes curling, legs going numb. that call seem to fuel him more. grunting at the sound of his name coming from your pretty mouth.

he's insatiable. every thing you do drives him into an uncontrollable habit of fucking your brains out. he can't help but to think how an asshole like him bagging a woman like you. soft and sweet. so adoring to a scum like him and fuck you got the best pussy he ever had.

tightly wrapped around his huge cock. making every vein and skin drag throughout your velvety walls. sending you in the most numbing pleasure and him into overdrive.

you look so divine under him. the flesh in your stomach, creasing as it folded under toji's touch. the soft, pliable flesh jiggling at the rhythm of his thrusts. your breasts bouncing and your face. twisted into the euphoric feeling of him being inside you.

holding your cheek in his large hand while looking at your eyes. beautiful and full of life staring right back at him. lost in each others gaze while he truly makes love with you.

creamy, white liquid gushing around his length. making an obscene noise. the squelch and the "plap" sound continuously ringing in the room. skin hitting to each other.

"you going to cum, princess?" he whispers, in between licking your cheek and sucking your tongue.

"yes! make me cum, toji. please..." you beg, your fat cunt clenching around him tightly and toji gives in to you. pressing your thighs in your stomach before changing into an animalistic phase. so much, that it leave you breathless and mind hazy.

your cunt spasms around him. milking him for all it's worth and toji gave in. his balls tightening before exploding inside you. thick, hot spurts of his cum pumping inside you. making sure you will take it all and stays inside you. your cunt throbbing around him while he pumps you full of seed.

toji growls seeing your post-fucked out face. glowing so ethereal that he feels guilty leaving you alone in this home you created for him. a safe haven for a man like him.

"i love you, toji." you said. grabbing his face and pulling him closer to you. kissing his lips with such tenderness and toji returns it with such want and neediness.

"i love you too." kissing your nose and you giggle. the sound of your laughter making his cock hardening again and your cunt clenching. toji moves your thighs, placing it beside his torso and he's into it again.

worshipping his blessing who have taken in the shape of you.

[adilynnyuri]

Hello yuri! I'm the one who asked you about revising my father's death. First of all, Thankyou so much for answering me and supporting me! I feel much better than earlier when I affirm for his aliveness but still I get triggered sometimes by circumstances and start to miss him again. But I think I should not supress my emotions too whenever I feel emotionally weak, I cry out so much, feel my emotions, miss him talk to him with his picture and again come back to my imagination, I think this doesn't affect my manifestation, right? Okay, so the final question is, that I always try to fullfill in my imagination and most of the time I do so, I don't care what other people say also my belief system has become stronger but the thing is I always affirm that " I always wake up and see my father alive, healthy and happy and while affirming this I go to sleep and expect that next morning I'll see my father again, but when I don't see him next morning; it triggers me so much that I don't want to even wake up and thoughts like I should suicide come into my minds and then It takes 2 or 3 hours to come back to my normal routine affirmation, how should I deal with this? Is it okay to feel like this? Please help me. Thankyou! Lots of love to you! 💕♥️

Hii love! 🤍

I am once again saying that I completely understand your situation!

But if you want your dad back, you can't take "no" As an answer. If your "3d" Reflects something you don't want it, it is just some bullshit. It is not real. It is real, if you accept the fact it is real.

I understand you are doing everything right but when you wake up, your dad isn't with you and it is triggering you.

AND NEVER EVER TALK ABOUT SUICIDAL THOUGHTS EVER!! YOU ARE MEANT TO BE HAPPY AND BLESSED EVERY SECOND OF YOUR LIFE!! NEVER EVER THINK OF SUICIDING MY LOVE, YOU ARE PRECIOUS AND A GEM FOR THIS WORLD!

I am always there in case of any problems! And also our community people are there for you!! Feel free to share your problems! We will respect you and your feelings totally ♡

Let me give you the same example,

if you write numbers from 1-10 in a note book as homework and you sleep at night being satisfied that you finished your homework and the next day when you wake up will the numbers you wrote in the notebook disappear and will you worry waking up thinking that if you wrote those numbers or not? I mean, it will disappear if you say it disappears. And of course sitting and worrying about something which is already done is also your decision. So if the homework (your desires) are already done, why are you "expecting" Or "worrying" That your desire hasn't yet come to you??

"But revising someone back alive is A BIG THING"

It's a big thing only if you say it's a big thing. "Revising anyone back to life is a piece of cake to me" Say this affirmation repeatedly even though YOU don't feel it/see any changes in your 3d. Affirm back against the "3d" If it "shows" You the complete opposite of what you wanted. If it triggers you, fuck that. It doesn't exist.

Things/people in this world exist only because you let them. THEY ARE EXISTING IN FRONT OF YOU, BECAUSE👏🏻YOU👏🏻ARE👏🏻ALLOWING 👏🏻THEM👏🏻TO👏🏻.

YOUR DESIRES ARE ALREADY THERE. YOU DO NOT NEED TO WORRY FOR ANYTHING. YOU ARE PRECIOUS. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO GET SPOILED BY EVERY LITTLE THING YOU EVER WANTED. DON'T TAKE NO AS AN ANSWER. IT'S ALWAYS YES. YES YOUR DAD IS ALIVE! YES YOUR INCOME IS DOUBLED! YES WHATEVER YOU WANTED IS ALREADY THERE.

Why do you "expect" It to happen??? IT IS ALREADY DONE!!

I don't want to convey it as rude. It's just my reminder to you that,

You already have whatever you ever wanted. If you don't like what you are seeing, affirm, be still within, AND DON'T CHANGE YOURSELVES FOR ANYTHING! IT IS ALREADY DONE. DO NOT WORRY FOR ANYTHING! YOU ARE AN ANGEL! YOU ALREADY GOT WHAT YOU WANTED!!

With lots of love,

ADILYNN YURI🤍🌷

[shotmrmiller]

fwb! ghost brainrot ive officially decided its gotta turn into ghoap x reader or im gonna eat my flextape. hopefully i can connect this one to the first one. team fix your plotholes or else, perra.

Fwb! Simon who just turned exclusive doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. Can’t say it doesn’t sting but as he said, you asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend. You understand because you aren’t sure Johnny would take too kindly to his best friend being disrespected in bed by someone he knows is a bonafide manwhore. 

So when Johnny pulls a pretty woman at the bar y'all are in, he also brings her friend for Simon, and that makes you prickle with jealousy. With a huff, you turn to face the crowd— away from the bitch putting her manicured hands on Simon. You’d like to believe that he is reciprocating her attention because if he doesn’t, Johnny would find it suspicious. But the way he wraps his arm around her waist, flirting back so effortlessly, reminds you of his ways. Of how he is.

Simon isn’t stupid. He wasn’t a part of the elite force Johnny’s in only because of his brawn. He was also brain. And that infuriates you. Talking to Simon is like dealing with a fucking genie.  Better be specific to the minute detail or anything that’s left to assumption is free game. 

Grabbing Johnny’s forearm to get his attention, he doesn’t look at you— too busy sweet-talking his next conquest, so you dig your nails into his skin. You see him wince and pull away roughly to sneer at the offender, but then his features smooth out instantly, once he realizes it’s you. Ice-blue eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol in his system, yet it feels like all he can see is you. His reaction makes your heart skip a beat, how quickly he ignores everything around him— puts everything on the backburner if you need something from him. You can't help the pleased smile that curls your lips at the realization.

“Hey, Johnny boy. I’ma go pay the tab,” and then you flick your eyes to the woman, “ do not leave without me.” 

“Dinnae worry, hen, as if I’d ever leave ye anywhere.” Your smile turns gloriously smug when you see the woman look at you in undisguised contempt. Blessed be Johnny, always in your corner. With another squeeze to his forearm, you chuckle when you hear a “Claws in, kitten!” and move to get up when you notice Simon no longer flirting with miss thing, but intently looking at Johnny’s forearm, which still has the half-moon marks of your nails on it. His gaze then snaps to yours, with an almost knowing glint behind them.

You roll your eyes and briskly walk to the bartender, flagging him down. When the bartender gives you the receipt to sign, a voice asks if he can buy you a drink. Sighing, you turn around to tell whoever that you aren’t interested.

“Incredibly generous, but—” and freeze. “Long time no see, eh?” 

It’s your ex. You ended things amicably enough— surprising, for him having been your first boyfriend, first everything, really.  Y’all just outgrew each other emotionally. Hugging him, you exclaim, “Jesus Christ, how’ve you been! It’s been far too long. What’re you doin’ here?” 

He responds, “I was just in town and figured I could get a drink, maybe some company,” you don’t miss the implication of that, but choose to ignore it. 

“How’s that goin’ for ya?”, and then he reaches out to grab your wrist and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ve got you now, don’t I? You look fantastic.” You’re about to let him down lightly when your hand is snatched out of his, and you’re forcibly pulled against someone, strong arm over your shoulders. 

“Whatever ye wan’ with her, the answer is naw. ” Johnny. You smother the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, how silly of you to think it could’ve been Simon. 

“Forever the guard dog, eh, John?” and Johnny’s arm tightens almost painfully and snarls.

“Still around, are ye? Just like a roach, boy.” Johnny and your ex never got along— always a pissing contest.  You have an inkling that it’s because of how close you two were and still are.

Your ex scoffs loudly at him, then looks at you. “It’s your choice, unless you’ve got a boyfriend?” and you shake your head. Johnny pulls you to stand in front of him, both arms holding you close.

“She doesnae. No one’s good enough fer her. Including ye.” 

Sucking your teeth, you sink your nails into Johnny’s forearm, again. “I think that’s for me to decide, no?” and pull at his arms to release you. “You’ve got some nerve, Johnny, bringing me here just to watch you and Ghost—” when you’re roughly pulled to the side,  held down by a much larger body. Simon. Your heart hammers in your chest. How long has he been standing here?

He lowers his mouth to your ear and sternly says, “Behave, pet. The sergeant said no. End of story.” 

When he uses that voice, all you can do is obey. 

“And who’re you?” You can feel Simon stand to his full height, broad shoulders straightening, posturing. Even slouched, he towered over your ex but standing like this, exuding strength and authority, it’s almost comical how large of a difference there is between them two— especially with you in his arms.

“I’m guard dog number two,” and your ex pales slightly. “I’d fuck off,” and Simon points towards the exit with his head, “Now.” He stiffens for a second, eyes bouncing between Johnny and Simon, and bolted—like prey after detecting predators. Not even a goodbye. You don't know if to applaud his sense of self-preservation or curse his cowardice. 

Johnny grabs your hand and leads you out the door, slinging his arm over you as y’all walk towards his home.

“Yer not mad, are ye?” and you keep quiet, he has always hated the silent treatment. “Bonnie—” and Simon cuts him off. 

“Who was that?” and Johnny looks back to answer. “Her ex-boyfriend. Very first one, wasn’t he, hen?” You dig your elbow into his ribcage and hiss out, “Johnny, you dolt! There is no need for you to be sharing that!” 

He laughs and brings your head in to kiss your temple. “I’m jus’ sayin’! Hen, no one out here is worth yer time. Ye cannae be mad at me for speakin’ the truth.” Exhaling, you curl your arm around his waist, going under his shirt to squeeze his waist. 

“Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to fill the void with you,” and Johnny swiftly continues your sentence. “And Ghost.” 

Absentmindedly, you nod. “And Ghost.” 

-

Had you been paying attention, you would’ve seen the way he and Ghost shared a calculated look before Johnny pressed another kiss a little closer to your mouth.

[gallawitchxx]

hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

[snail-migraine]

oh !! my !! i’m the first requester ?? that’s crazy !!

be expecting more platonic yandere asks :3

Mayhaps .. Platonic Yan ! Riddle Rosehearts & Younger brother / sibling ! MC ?

Except they are really anxious n paranoid .. about EVERYTHING !!

“Riddle, How does this school system work ?”

“Riddle, why is there furries here ? — oh they’re a beastmen?!”

“Riddle, why is everyone talking to me ?”

“Riddle, why are the teachers so scary ?!”

“Riddle, why did mother send me here ? I wanna go home ….”

and the list goes on !!

please n thank uu !

—Call Me ; Yàng Anon ! Or Anon Yàng ? Or Maybe ☀️ Anon ? whatever fits you !

Ooh, okay! Well first of all, hello Yàng-Anon. Second thank you for the asks! So long as asks are open (and you aren't spamming my inbox) you're free to send in as many asks as you like...only one at time tho. I can't do two at once lol. Anyway thanks for the love and support! <3

-

Anon-Yan 💌‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Riddle

Riddle as a sibling would be a little controlling in general.

Partly due to his own perfectionism, something he can't quite shake even after his overblot.

However as a yandere? It gets waaaay fucking worse.

He views the object of his "affections" less like a person and more like some kind of ragdoll that he pose and dress however he wants.

He thinks he's helping but in reality it actually worsens their mental state until they are exactly like the doll Riddle wants them to be.

But in the context of ask I think it play out a little differently.

Riddle would develop his yandere tendencies as a young child, given that you were the only person Riddle was allowed to even speak to (aside from his parents)

So it's no wonder why he quickly fell in love with your sweet and nice nature.

He couldn't help but want to shield you from all the hurt he experienced as a child. Given that you were probably the only good thing allowed to stay in his life.

You grew up babied by him, with him constantly holding your hand and helping carry you every step of the way.

Even if sometimes he was a little invasive about it.

"You're doing it wrong. Here give me the pencil. Let me show you how to do it. Can't have you getting a bad grade on such an easy assignment now can I?"

When it came time for his first year at NRC he was absolutely pissed that you couldn't come with him.

He knew that eventually Mother would try to tear you two apart, but it doesn't make him happy either way.

God bless everyone in Heartslabyul during his first year because without you around he's fucking merciless.

When he comes back home for the breaks he spends as much time as possible with you, from teaching you different spells and potions as well as all the history he was taught at NRC.

When it comes time for his second year, you finally get a visit from the Ebony Carriage. And he's absolutely overjoyed.

He doesn't have to spend most of the year alone again.

He finds a joy in your innocence and naivety.

Like when you cling to his robe at the ceremony, scared and afraid of the things happening around you or during the first unbirthday party when you tug at his sleeves and beg him to take it easy on those poor freshman.

Oh how cute his little sibling is. His cute, naive, and utterly helpless little sibling.

Don't worry, so long as you stay in line and keep being your adorable-self your head will stay attached.

The same can't be said for those troublemakers that tried to concert you into one of their own...

"Those unabashed fools! Trying to make you into one of their own..Idiots the lot of them! Oh, I'm sorry for scaring you dear. Don't worry about me, so long as you're with me everything will be alright. Just smile and nod, alright dear?"

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Like a Hostage | Prologue

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

“They hate me, don’t they?” you sigh in defeat, hesitant to look back at your boyfriend whose fingers have gently intertwined with yours. Standing outside his childhood home you hoped for tonight to end differently, preferably with less undertones of passive judgement. 

“They hate everyone, so I wouldn’t give it much thought,” Jungkook assures with a sly grin, wrapping his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walk down to his car. 

“But they’re your parents, Koo. Don’t you want them to like me?” you turn to face his lowered gaze, hands on his chest as your back presses against the door frame. 

“Trust me, y/n. I’ve been fighting for their love my whole life. So, no. I don’t really care what they think.” he snickers before noticing the pout on your lips. 

“And anyways, isn’t my love enough for you?” whispers of his voice touch your skin as he leans closer, broad shoulders towering over your form. 

“You know it is. But, it would be less nerve-racking if we had their blessings as well,” your furrowed gaze looks up at Jungkook’s honey-brown eyes that softened at the sight of your flushed cheeks. 

“Just give them some time, sweetpea. Okay?” he places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking a few curls behind your ear. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Now please get in, I'm starving,” 

“What? Are you serious? We just ate,” you laugh from disbelief, eyes glued on the boy as he sprints to his seat. 

“Y/n, baby, you're too nice. My mother can't cook to save her life. Everything you saw on that table was bought and reheated an hour ago,” Jungkook huffs impatiently, turning on the engine before glancing back at your puzzled expression. 

“It wasn't that bad. I'm sure she tried her best, Koo. You gotta be more grateful,” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, love. Now please buckle up,” he replied with a dimpled grin before finally driving off, his free hand intertwined with yours. 

To be honest, you never understood how someone could show disinterest in their parents. Growing up in foster care, you were deprived of every childhood memory. Reaching for your mother’s arms as you took your first steps, feeling the warmth of your father’s embrace as he comforted your tears after a boy broke your heart. None of that was ever real. Nothing more than a constant reminder of the void in your heart. The shattering pieces of your younger self who cried every night, carving the blame deeper into her tiny wrists for not being good enough. Not worth the trouble of being in your life. So you grew paranoid of being viewed as an inconvenience, craving that lack of parental love from anyone who has shown even a glimpse of affection. 

Meeting Jungkook saved you from your breaking point, the night you thought you would go to sleep forever. Sitting on the rails of the Han River Bridge, you thought about the people whose life would be impacted by the loss of yours. In the moment, it was like your mind went blank, consciousness completely obscured by the lack of significance you brought to the world. Unable to fold even one pathetic finger, you felt the tears run down your face as your body shivered in fear. Losing sight of how deep the water went, your breaths became irregular, chest heaving up from the rush of adrenaline in your system. Knowing that this would be your last jump, made it all go away. In the end, nothing ever matters because we all die anyway. Some of us just choose to push their luck and see the afterlife faster than others. 

Closing your eyes you whispered a silent goodbye to your parents, wherever and whoever they were. Thanking them for the opportunity to experience life, however shitty it turned out to be. And as you felt your fingers slowly let go of the metal pillars, you took in your last breath before finally finding peace. 

“Are you out of your mind?” a male voice pierces through your senseless state as you feel your arm being yanked back. 

“What the fuck man? Let go,” you snap, body dangling midair as his other arm latches onto you. 

“Hold on for fuck’s sake,” he growls in frustration, digging his fingers deeper into your blue-ish skin as you fight back the friction. 

“I don’t need your saving.” you cry out, unable to control the stream of mixed emotions. 

“I’m not doing this for you.” his gaze furrows, clenching his jaw as his hand cushions the back of your head before your back hits the cement pavement.  

It’s true. In the moment, he wasn’t saving you. While holding onto your dangling body, all he could see was the sadness in his sister’s hollow eyes. He could feel the fear that rushed through her veins as she jumped off of their apartment complex. Alone. Consumed by the darkness of the cold winter night. No one heard her screams, and no one rushed to ease the pain. Unable to swallow down his antidepressants, Jungkook decided to stay the night at his friend’s house in hopes of muting the sound of his parent’s endless fights. Clueless to the reality of it all, his selfish act of leaving behind the only person who shared his misery. His sweet girl, Jieun. Now, they only see each other in his nightmares. The ones in which he begs for her forgiveness, wishing he could hold her one last time. Hear the laughter coming out of her room as he walks down their shared corridor, only to find it buried with white sheets of dust. 

“I was so close …” you whispered under your breath, bloodshot eyes filled with tears. 

“What’s the point? The pain never ends,” he sighs, resting his head on one of the pillars with his arms around his knees. 

“I have no one else. Who do I live for now?” you cry out with a trembling chin.

“Live for me,” he whispers, tears running down his cheek as he pictures Jieun in the back of his mind.

[dokoni-mo]

Warm Water || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: you find yourself exausted, but he knows just what to do.

mostly SFW // Fluff

word count : 3773

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20, Will is almost 40), dom/sub undertones, secret relationship, will is obsessive but not as much in this one, fluff, kisses, non-sexual nudity, cuddling, Willy has scars, pet names, exhaustion, hickeys, swearing, Will likes being called sir i just know it, cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, not very proofread, also just laregly a lot of rambling adfjafk idk im so tired, very very slight sexual themes so minors dni

a/n: i'm tagging my normal people for Crave (aka the peepaw chronicles) for this because it does take place in the same universe, but i'll leave it up to interpretation on whether or not you deem it cannon to the story (so im sorry if you didn't want to be tagged!!),, this is probably the most-self indulgent thing i've ever written so please bear with me,, i'm just very tired from school LMAOO and wanted to write smth more fluffy with willy and his lil bun

~~~

William Afton fucking hated baths. He hated a lot of things, but baths were probably towards the top of the list.

Even thinking about them made his skin crawl. Just the thought of sitting there, in your own dirt and grime? In a stuffy, humid room next to where the toilet is? Disgusting. He didn't consider himself to be a germaphobe, no. That wasn't it at all. He worked with children on a Monday-through-Friday basis. He wasn't scared of germs or getting sick. He'd built up quite the immune system over the years of working at the diner.

He just found the notion of sitting there like a big, sweaty dumpling inside of a soup comprised of water and your own dirt, sweat, and germs revolting.

But you liked them. You liked them a lot.

It was one of the few things William didn't quite understand about you. How could you like something so gross? You had explained your reasoning to him before when he had first found out. Something about how the warmth all around you was comforting, as well as the various different soaps and scents you could use to spruce it up. But, try as you might to explain it, he still didn't understand. Couldn't a shower do the same thing? Without you having to sit in your own filth?

Whatever. He wasn't going to argue with you about it. His bunny enjoyed many strange things, but he wasn't going to take any enjoyment away from them just because he didn't understand. He loved you. He'd never do such a thing.

As out-of-character as it was for him, he found himself buying more bath-related things to secretly store away in his bathroom. For when you came over, of course. You seemed to appreciate it when he gave the array of soaps and other liquids to you, giving him a nice kiss on the cheek. As much as he didn't understand your reasoning, your little smile was all he cared about at the end of the day. He could tolerate your conflicting views. That's what love is all about, isn't it?

William didn't share too many disagreements with you. Not as much as he initially expected when he first made you his. You were soulmates, after all. It's only natural you share similar perspectives.

It was both a blessing and a curse, however. As much as William liked how similar you were, there was a few things he wished he kept for himself and himself only. Such as the work-ethic the two of you shared.

The older man was somewhat of a workaholic. While he reserved the weekends for you and only you, he was much different during the week. He would spend extra hours at the diner frequently. And, when he wasn't at his restaurant, he was tinkering away at some side-project down in his cellar. It wasn't very healthy, but it's how he liked to do things. Gave him character, but also made his hair turn grey.

You liked his grey hairs, though. And he was still handsome with it.

But, his bunny was the same way. You being in college, you had a lot of work to do. Sometimes so much that you'd have to bring your assignments over to his house on the weekends and do them there, even though the two of you agreed long ago that the weekends were couple time. You were a driven little thing. William could see it when he got to watch you work, in the pain in your lower back and shoulders, and in the dark circles under your precious eyes when you fell asleep next to him.

Poor bunny. He didn't want you to work so hard. It hurt his heart seeing you so stressed all the time. Your schooling is important, yes, but you mustn't be so hard on yourself. You're a clever little rabbit. You don't need to devote so much of your time on work, surely not.

Besides, sometimes, William couldn't help but feel a little jealous when all your attention was on your books and papers rather than him.

This was one of those times.

With the turn of the seasons, your professors had also swamped you with several different tests and assignments to turn in sooner rather than later. You never really liked to complain about it to William, he found, but he could tell that the pressure was weighing on you. This had been the third weekend in a row that you had brought your coursework over to his house, your nose buried in the pages; your eyes on the words rather than him.

William kept you company while you worked to have himself nearby, but he couldn't help but be a little peeved. The weekends were sir and bunny's time. Not boring old college.

The brit was watching your back as you scribbled away in your notebook, sitting on the floor in front of him with his coffee table used as your make-shift desk. You had been at it since the moment you finished the breakfast he made you this morning, and now the Utah sun was just starting to creep below the horizon. Worry was in the older man's grey eyes. When was the last time he saw you stand up? Or even scurry yourself to the bathroom? Or get a drink of water? He couldn't remember. And that wasn't good.

He was a patient man, yes, and did value a college education. But William was tired of waiting for you. He barely gets to see his adorable bunny during the week. He'd rather spend this time with you curled up in his bed, closer to him on his lap, or just talking to you. But you hadn't said a word in hours. Even though you were right in front of him, he missed his bunny. And the amount you were working was getting a little ridiculous for his tastes.

"Love?" He asked you through the silence, gently reaching out a hand and rubbing circles into your back, "Are you almost done? It's getting late, little one."

He watched as you looked over your shoulder towards him, but not enough to have your full attention. You seemed just a tad annoyed with him, but he understood. When you were concentrated, you didn't much like him disturbing you.

But he didn't much like not having you in his arms right now.

"Umm..." you breathed, "I dunno, Will. I have, like... two chapters left? To take notes on? So just a little longer, okay?"

The older man felt his jaw clench, "You said that three hours ago, bunny."

"I know, I just... I need to get this done before the deadline. I'm sorry."

"And when exactly is all this due then, hm?"

"Uh... friday?"

"It's Saturday, love."

"I know, I know, just... Just gimme one more hour. Then I promise I'll be done."

William let out a sigh. You had said that three hours ago, too.

The brit watched as you went back to scribbling away in your notebook, finding himself more annoyed. Not at you, of course, but by the situation. You didn't need to work this hard, no. You were William's bunny, after all. You shouldn't ever need to lift a finger around him. But, you were a workaholic just like he was. You liked doing things yourself

He loved and hated you for it.

His fingertips still on your back, William felt his other hand reach up to smooth your hair away from your face. Even though he didn't get a direct shot of you, he could tell that you were tired. He could see the dark circles under your eyes from his spot on the couch, and the slight redness that had crept into them. Hell, your back must be aching too from sitting on the ground for so long. And didn't your pretty little head hurt? Surely it did.

Sweet bunny. You needed a break. You needed to be done for the day. Plain and simple.

Reaching forward, William pressed a few soft, warm kisses to the side of your cheek and hair as he took your pencil away from you, laying it on the table. When you turned around at him to protest, he seized the opportunity to capture your lips into his, lingering on your sweet taste for perhaps longer than he should have. He pulled back and brought his hands close, cradling your jaw a few inches away from his face.

"I think you've done far enough for today, little one." He said to you, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks, "Wouldn't you agree?"

He could feel your cheeks heat slightly under his touch, "Will, if I finish today, I'll have time to visit your office during the week. So I really need to finish."

William let out a chuckle. He always did like having you in his office. It was cute you were thinking of him.

"But you're here now, my love." He said, "And I want you now."

"I... I want you too, but-"

William shushed you before you could continue, leaning in and giving you another sweet, long kiss.

The brit pulled away, looking into your tired eyes again, "You work far too hard, bunny. You'll burn yourself out. And I want my little rabbit to be happy, yeah?"

You nodded in response.

"Of course I do. And I'd hope you'd want the same for yourself, yes?"

You nodded again, "Yes... sir."

William's soft smile widened as he let out a pleased hum, "Good bunny. Now, why don't we relax a bit, hm? You've definitely earned it, my darling."

He watched as your cheeks heated up some more, your eyes flickering downward, "I... I think I'm gonna be too tired to-"

The brit chuckled, "No, love, no. I'm not talking about that. I was thinking of something a little different for tonight."

"Like what?"

"You still like baths, right bunny?"

"Yeah? Why?"

William couldn't believe he was saying this. But, he knew it'd have to be something special to get you away from your work. Luckily, he knew just what to do. Even if it wrecked his pride just a hair.

"Would you care to join me for one?"

You furrowed your brow in confusion at his words, but a soft smile still remained out of amusement.

"Join you? For a bath?" You asked.

"Yes, love."

You let out a little laugh, "Will, you hate baths. You've made that really clear over these last few months."

William let out a hum, brushing some more hair away from your face, "Yes, I do. But I love you far more than I hate them. And I know they're always relaxing for you, love. And I want to help you do just that. You're tired, bunny. I can see it."

He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Just let me take care of you." He continued, "Like I promised I would. Can you do that for me, love?"

The older man saw how your smile widened at his words, "Fine, fine. Just promise me you're not gonna complain the whole time."

"Of course not, bunny. Now, come here. Let me pick you up, yeah?"

William took you wrapping your arms around his neck as you accepting his invitation. Leaning down a little more, he scooped you up into his arms and held you close, pressing a kiss to your blushy cheek a you giggled as his strength. Your legs wrapped around his waist, he carried you all the way from his living room into his master-bathroom, placing you down so you could sit on the lidded-toilet.

Rolling up his dress-shirt sleeves, William opened up the cabinet under his sink and looked at the vast array of bath materials he had collected for you. He pulled out each one and laid them on the ground, making sure the labels were pointed towards you so that you could read them.

Once all of the products were out, the brit closed the cabinet and took a knee in front of you for you to discuss with him which ones you wanted to use.

"Do you even know what these things are?" You asked, picking up a clear bottle to read it more closely.

"If I'm being honest, love," he said, "I have no idea. The woman at the shop helped me pick a lot of them out."

You giggled again, "Well, this here is a bubble-bath. You put it in the water while it's running and it makes a lot of bubbles. And that baggie is bath salts. It just makes the bath, like... mineral-y."

The older man quirked a brow, "Mineral-y?"

"It's hard to describe! It's just good for your skin."

"I see." William reached down and picked up a pinkish jar, "What about this? It doesn't look like you've used it that much."

"Oh, those are petal-soaps. They look like flower petals but they're actually soap. They dissolve in the water after a while. They make the water smell like roses too! I was saving them for a special occasion."

"Well, is this a special enough occasion?"

"Getting the Mr. Afton into a bath? Hell yeah it is."

William chuckled, "You flatter me, bunny."

You smiled back at him, "The petals and the bubble-bath will be nice. That's what I wanna use."

"If you say so, love."

With your final approval on the products being used, William shifted himself over to his large, porcelain-white bath, reaching in and stopping the drain before turning the hot-water valve on. The sound of the water hitting the dry tub filled the air, the pipes creaking just a tad at the rare usage. While the water poured down, the brit used the opportunity to pour in some of the bubble bath liquid. William then let the water run for a few minutes more, leaving his fingertips under the water until it warmed up.

"Is this too hot for you, bunny?" He asked. You reached forward past the older man to feel the water.

"Nah, it's good. I like it to be real warm."

"Perfect. Wait here then."

Shaking the water off his hand, William stood up from his kneeling position over to one of the longer, taller cabinets nearby. Reaching inside, he pulled out a few of his favorite soft, lush purplish-grey towels, walking back over and handing one to you.

"Here, love." He said, "So you don't freeze to death before the bath fills up."

You took the towel with a soft thank you as you stood up from your seat on the toilet. You turned away from the brit as you pulled your shirt off over your head, his eyes fixated on your bare back as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. As you slipped off your pants and underwear, William could see the ghosts of former hickeys he had given you past weekends on your shoulders and thighs. You were a good bunny and didn't try and cover them up with any makeup or anything, just like he wanted. The more recent ones were fading, though.

He'd have to fix that soon.

He continued to watch as you kicked all your clothes into a pile by the foot of the bath and wrapped the towel around you. Your nude body no longer available for him to see, he went back to removing his own clothes.

Once they were all off, and neatly folded on the edge of his sink, William wrapped his towel around his lower half and stepped closer to you. You were watching the water fill up and he snaked his long, scarred arms around your middle, pulling you close to his chest. He could feel how you smiled as he pressed his kisses into your hair.

"I love you, bunny." He mumbled against you, feeling your little hands glide over the scars on his forearms as you leaned back against him.

"I love you too, Will." you responded.

He continued his assault of kisses onto your cheek and jaw, "Are you feeling any better, my love?"

"Definitely. I didn't even realize how tired I was."

William let out a hum as his kisses found your neck, "You have been working for almost 12 full hours, bunny."

"Oh my god, really?"

"Mhm."

You let out a groan, "Oh my god, that's so embarrassing. I'm sorry, Will. I didn't even realize. You must've been so bored."

"Don't apologize, little one. I know how much your Uni means to you."

"Yeah, but still... I feel bad. I don't want you to be bored. And we only get to see each other on weekends. It doesn't help I already pissed half of it away."

"It's not your job to entertain me, love. You know just having you here is enough."

"But I don't wanna be just enough. I wanna be like... better. Because you do so much for me. I... I feel like I don't try hard enough sometimes. And I'm sorry."

William let out a sympathetic hum and he lifted your chin up to him, giving your lips a sweet, reassuring peck.

"Everything about you is perfect, bunny. I wouldn't change one thing about you. You try more than you realize."

"How?"

"Well, you did say you were working so late because you wanted to see me in my office, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"And why is that?"

"Because I know you like it when I do."

William gave you another kiss, "See?"

You smiled at your own silliness, standing on your tip-toes to kiss him one last time, "Fine, fine. You win."

William smiled to match your own, "You worry too much, bunny. I understand what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I love you, and nothing's going to ever change that."

"What if I was ugly?"

"You're not ugly, love."

"But what if I was?"

"I'd still love you."

"What if, like, I only spoke in rhymes or something?"

"It'd be... odd, but I'd still love you."

You giggled, "What if I burned down the diner?"

"Well... you know, I never really liked it much. You'd honestly be doing me a favor, love. So I'd probably love you even more."

"Should I go do it then?"

"Maybe later, bunny. Looks like our bath is full."

Giving you one last kiss on your cheek, William padded over to the running faucet and turned off the valve. In his peripheral, he saw you grab the can of the fake petals and open it up, grabbing a fistful and throwing the small soaps on top of the bubbles. The reddish-pink hue contrasted greatly over the white bubbles and water, making the bath look rather pretty. William was impressed.

William allowed himself to step into the bath first, unwrapping his lower half, folding and placing the towel on the ground nearby. The bubbles dispersing around him, William made sure that water was still a good temperature for you before he sat down in the bath. Once situated, he held out his hand for you.

Placing your soft, small palm in his, you let your towel drop to the floor as you got in the bath yourself. Using his hand as a balance, you sunk your legs in beneath the bubbles as you sat down in the water as well. William spread his bare legs apart beneath the water to make room for you, holding onto your waist and guiding you to lean back against him. You followed his silent order, your bare back against his scarred chest as you rested your head on his strong shoulder. The man pressed a few kisses to your hair as he wrapped his arms around you beneath the water. You relaxed against him easily, and your eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling around you.

"Is it too hot, bunny?" He asked you, already knowing what you would say, but still wanting to make sure.

"It's perfect, Will." You mumbled, "Thank you."

The brit felt himself smile, "There's no need to thank me, little one. I'm just happy I got you to myself now."

You breathed out a laugh, "Didn't like third-wheeling my textbook, hm?"

"Not at all." He pressed another kiss to your cheek, "You're mine. I should never be the third wheel."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to."

"I know. It's alright. Just relax, bunny."

Leaning down to press more kisses into the back of your neck, William lifted up his wet hands out of the water, making a splash echo through the bathroom. Steadily, he grabbed onto your shoulders and rubbed firm, massaging circles into your back with his thumbs and the heels of his palms. You shut your eyes tighter at the feeling, a few low groans escaping the back of your throat.

"Feel good?" He asked. All you could do was nod as he chuckled, "Good. I'm glad. Your muscles are quite firm, love. You shouldn't be sitting on the floor like that for so long."

"If I got on the couch," you said, "I knew you wouldn't let me get off it again and back to work."

William laughed, "You know me far too well, bunny."

"You're just very predictable sometimes."

"Oh? Am I now?"

You nodded again, "Only sometimes though. Like today when I woke up, I would've never guessed you'd be in here with me right now."

"I can't say I predicted that either, love."

You breathed out a laugh, "If you don't like it, you don't have to stay, Will."

"No, no." William pressed more kisses to the back of your neck, rubbing deeply into your more firm muscles, "I actually think it's rather nice in here."

"Really? Or are you just trying to not make me feel bad?"

"I mean it, love. It's nice. But, perhaps I'm biased. How could I not enjoy being so close to my precious rabbit, hm?"

Your smile grew as you leaned back against his chest again, making his arms return to their home around your waist. You had scooted down so that your head rested more so on his collarbone, allowing you to look up at him more clearly, and him at you.

"Along with predictable," you said, "You're also really cheesy sometimes."

"Oh, you love it though, don't you bunny?"

"I do." You leaned up and gave the brit a kiss on the jaw, "And I love you too. Thank you for everything tonight, Will. I really appreciate it."

The older man felt his heart swell in his chest as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Anytime, my love. Anytime."

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!! as well as anyone who didn't want to be tagged (pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all Willy works :)) )

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Hello again! I was chatting with someone and he said "someone should make writing style hcs for the mercs", and I instantly went "I know a guy" so now i'm here. How do you think the mercs would write? (note: he also said "Scout would write like Greg heffley" which is hilarious)

How Do the TF2 Mercs Write?

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I'm smiling like an idiot rn. This is so sweet, and the promt is very cool! (Your friend is 100% correct, btw.)

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I'm going to headcanon, whay they write about, how they write about those things, and some hand writing pictures of how I think they'd write! So be prepared for a long one 😭 Can you tell I'm an English nerd?

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Demo-

You'd think he'd have super messy handwriting, but he's actually a very neat writer. Has an ink and quill pen set, loves gold ink more than traditional black ink.

He writes about his mom and his childhood. He writes very vividly and with lots of detail. I feel like this man is a walking thesaurus.

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Engie-

He has very clean writing. I'm day to day life (he has the worst writing when working on his projects). Like he'll leave a note on the door saying that the gangs run out of milk and everyone's shocked. You'd think he'd have atrocious handwriting. Learned cursive in school and never really stopped using it.

When he's writing like this, he's normally sending letters to people he cares for or trying to order parts for his latest projects. He's very formal when he writes to anyone.

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Heavy-

Heavy is also blessed with very nice handwriting, but instead of the school system forcing him into writing better it was his mom.

He likes to write about animals and his friends. He keeps a small book by his bed to write little things he learns throughout the day. Not very descriptive, more along the lines of "I heard birds singing this morning, it was pretty." Or "Scout likes brownies more than ice cream." Normally, just mundane things. (Also, he writes mainly in english to improve his ability to understand English words but sometimes defaults to Russian if he can't remember or spell a word properly.)

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Medic-

Ugh. This man writes like a doctor nine times put of ten just to fuck with people. He'll give someone a note, and it just has gibberish on it. He likes to watch them try and decipher it. But when he's not being a menace to society. He has genuinely beautiful handwriting. While it can be overly fancy, sometimes it's also easy to read.

He has two journals, he has a leather-bound one where he writes about Germany, his experiences of leaving his country, when he had his medical license, medical school, etc. Loves to write about the past. He uses that journal as a therapist. And then, of course, he has his neon pink Claire's notebook that he uses to write down every single thing that could be used against someone he's ever heard, with matching glitter pens.

When he writes, he never leaves any details out and is pretty clear and concise. He uses German and English interchangeably. Using English mainly out of habit.

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Scout-

While I do agree that this man probably writes like Greg Heffley (and honestly, his handwriting probably looks the same too.) I'd be wrong not to mention that he writes out little :), :0, >:), and other little faces on his notes, and have almost graffiti handwriting. He practiced writing to look like that, actually. He used to have decently nice handwriting, but he likes this one better.

He doesn't write much, but when he does, this man writes paragraphs about the most random things. All horribly spelled. This man can't read or write very well. Dyslexic king. He makes sure to get help with spelling, though, so he can write to his mom at least once a month.

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Sniper-

Oh, poor, poor man. Can not write clearly to save his life. Not that he's big on writing to begin with. There was never really any pressure for him to have good handwriting, and he mainly only writes to write himself reminders.

Very nondescript and straight to the point. But has a little quirk of using different dots (like • ○ ● □ ■ ☆) for his notes. He has a little dark brown book for all his reminders.

☆eat (is a common note left in the book). He also has written poetry, but he'd rather die than admit that.

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Spy-

Pretentious motherfucker handwriting and style. Could just be writing a reminder to wish someone a happy birthday and will go all out. It normally takes him 15 minutes to write a small note. He writes letters frequently, with no reason in particular. I think he just really likes writing. Uses big words but not in the same way Demo does. Like Demo will say, "The food was horrific." But Spy will say some shit like "the meal I partook in was horrifically distasteful and..." So on and so on.

I think he can also switch his handwriting at will. If he needs to pretend to have messy handwriting for some reason, he'll do it. Not without sheding a tear at how awful it looks first though.

Writes exclusively in French. One or two words in English every 10,000 words he writes.

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Soldier-

He likes using all capital letters when he writes! He feels like every word he writes is important. It also helps him remember things. I also don't think his vision is the best, so it's hard for him to see any other writing.

He doesn't write often, but he's always listing things, marking things that have changed, and writing down random questions that he'll spend the day trying to answer. Very observation based writing. You catch him writing and it's just a piece of computer paper with a list like,

THE CEREAL WAS MOVED

I SAW A BIRD

WHY DO BIRDS FLY INTO GLASS

ARE BIRDS OKAY AFTER FLYING INTO GLASS.

Very simple writer.

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Pyro-

Scarily neat and beautiful writing. Somehow, they can write like this no matter what situation they're in. I definitely think they just rewrite things they overhear, facts that they like, good memories they remember, and just odd things. Has multiple quotes written down from books they've read. They write with glitterpens, too. They have a bunch of construction paper they use to write on.

They don't really write much for necessity. They only really write to make themselves happy. Can be simple or descriptive depending on what their remembering.

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AH! I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS ONE! Thanks again for the ask! I hope your friend likes the answers :D

[urfave-masc]

America, God bless you if it’s good to ya.

(A letter to those who voted or voted third party)

Ive had plenty of time to think about the weaponized words you all have used against us. “I don’t think you’re who I thought you were” and “you’re misunderstanding me” no, I hear you loud and clear. What you’re not doing is listening to us.

A third party or non-vote is the same as giving a vote to someone who wears genocide as a shiny pin on his suit. At least maybe with Kamala, we could save some unfortunate victims of assault, rape, incest. We could’ve protected our own trans kids, now we are going to fight a genocide of our own. We are going to have to fight and riot because someone got killed for “walking while black” under this administration.

I beg of you to organize. That’s an important thing to do while the world is going to crash and burn, because it already is, and nobody is going to be happy with either party. We clearly did not do critical thinking when it came to our own issues. I’m specifically looking at my third party and non voters here, whatever your reason may be from “i don’t like either” to “children are dying overseas” well, now our mothers and trans children are dying here. what have we solved. apart from enacting horrible tariffs the likes of the economy will have never felt since the great depression, and giving tax cuts to the billionaires to make the working class even poorer than the ruling class, which doesn’t sound like we are solving anything at all. it doesn’t sound anything like the reform we need, the revolution we need, right?

ah yes, because your activism for children overseas while you can’t be an advocate for your mother, or her mother, or her mother, or her mother, while you can’t be an advocate for yourself, while these women and kids are getting raped and assaulted you thought a non vote meant more than a impending genocide on POC and trans people and control over women in our own damn country wasn’t as important as kids in gaza. “if it means i don’t have to have access to gender affirming care or hormones, ill live.” well im very glad you’re privileged enough to live. i’m extremely glad you will never feel some of the pain trans kids feel who took their lives because they got beat so bad at school, or their parents left them homeless.

Nex Benedict, you were a child who should’ve been able to feel safe at school.

Kids should feel safe in our schools. 513 mass shootings and counting in 2024 alone, kids doing lockdown drills monthly and posting video of police stampeding their school complexes wasn’t enough for even a vote for basic mental health issues and addiction issues? Was issue 12 nothing to somebody who is almost a year sober? Who has almost died 2 fucking times in the span of a year because of drugs? Is abolishing the department of education really what we needed here, to put behind kids like me who had IEPs and those with autism, adhd, and other mental disorders and even physical disorders from receiving a proper education?

Where was your voice while protesting the genocide in gaza when the 20 kids in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting should’ve been able to vote yesterday. Where is your support for “March for Our Lives?”

Where was your voice when black men and women are being subjected to some of the worst systemic racism in modern times? “Kamala jailed thousands of black people for weed charges” and if you look at what’s law right now, she gave 95% of them a slap on the fucking wrist if you actually did your research. Doing her job, and then trying to do a job for the people where weed could be legalized and charges could be expunged, which affects majority black people. This issue hits close to me. Because you want to paint someone out to be an absolute monster, which there is some merit to, but you neglect to see that the other monster wants nothing to do with the community and won’t give an inkling of hope to give people a safe way to make community. It’s like a damn pitbull at the shelter. Stay in the crate and potentially get adopted someday, or get euthanized.

Tamir Rice, you should still be breathing, you should still be alive.

We should organize regardless of who was elected but I guarantee you now there are going to be repercussions the climate, people, and world have never known with an outcome like this.

With major climatologists begging you to vote for somebody who isn’t going to immediately continue burning fossil fuels and continue the meat industry, to continue doing the things we are doing now and you still let a non vote out of “making a message” happen when the most crucial part of our climate journey is NOW. Because of the political divisiveness in our country and unwillingness to vote for somebody that’s “less bad” than the fascists, we are going to make absolutely no progress. You really think rioting under Trump is going to work? It may not work either under Kamala, but damn it was sure a fucking shot if it meant that my grandpa still had access to healthcare while he steadily declined.

This isn’t about parties for me. This is about my grandpa, who drank from colored water fountains and couldn’t enter certain stores because he was too dark. Or when he was told he would never amount to anything in life and went to college all while having two kids and three jobs.

This is about my grandpa who we fought long and hard to get the ACA for his parkinson’s to work out with the VA to make sure his succumbing to death was as painless and humane as possible.

This is about my grandpa who always said to “love your neighbor no matter how much they hate your skin color” because we have too much fucking infighting to make an actual revolution work.

This is about my grandpa and his family who had their fucking land taken away in a broken ass system who even then knew better than to vote for a fascist fool. This is about the millions of undocumented immigrants who are now at an even heightened risk of deportation. this is about my teenage best friend, D. R, who’s mom is living in a trailer park with 3 kids and can’t get citizenship because they might deport her. And leave her DACA children and US citizen born children at the hands of child protective services.

This is about our broken ass system which only became more fascist because of your non fucking vote. do better. even if you don’t agree with everything i am saying from my own experiences or lived experiences, do fucking better. support minorities and people in need instead of running away or giving salutations to what you think is right in your mind. Personally, we are upset that you did not vote. Very upset. Because you couldn’t decipher when to look out for yourself and your own marginalized community while making a difference in another. It’s like a black person voting for Trump. Do. Better. We are so deeply involved in a two party system that this election would not have been swayed by your non vote or third party vote and your privilege and naivety is really showing based on your ability to vote, and yall didn’t anyways. Until we come together as a community and start disassembling the system starting at a local level, you have no fucking reason to let a christofacsist win to help bring down the system.

[ctimenefic]

Just another anon popping in to say that gr63 gets rule 63’d AU is a borderline religious revelation to me 😵‍💫😳 ur a genius

This snippet does not have George in it, blessed anon, but it does, crucially, have tiny baby Lance Stroll

“You should hear what the British guys have to say about her,” Kieran Rivers is saying, as Alex makes his way back to the group from the hotel bar. There’s about a dozen of them, sprawled around four tables they dragged together, blithely ignoring the glares from the barstaff. It’s not like it’s a nice hotel, and they’re all guests, and some of them just won the Eurocup Formula 2.0 championship, actually, so who gives a shit if they’re loud and young. At least they’re drinking. 

And talking about George, of course. She’s yet to join them - thanks to his sisters, Alex has better insights than most into the dark rituals of girls getting ready, and he reckons it’ll be another half hour - but it’s pretty obvious why she’d be the subject of conversation. 

Winning as a wildcard. It’s mad. It’s brilliant. He’s so fucking proud. 

“The F4?” he asks, sliding back into his seat. “She’s smashing it.”

Three of the boys at the far end of the table snort. Boys- men, technically. Most of them. There’s a couple of prodigies, like George, racing as well as any of them at sixteen. Alex doesn’t feel grown up. Ordering a beer without worrying someone will spot the dodgy photoshop on his licence still feels novel. 

Jez Valdo grins too widely for a guy who binned it into the wall at what is technically his home race. “Smashing is one way of putting it.”

“More like they’re the ones smashing it,” Rivers chimes in, and Alex frowns. It’ll be close, sure, but if George drives as well as she did today, the championship’s in the bag. Rivers starts counting off names on his fingers: Braithwaite, Carter, Jones, and that doesn’t make any sense, because they’re nowhere near the top of the standings-

“It’s like they’ve worked out a system to stop her getting clingy, it’s genius. Wish I’d known after Moscow, I’d’ve lined one of you guys up to take her off my hands when she got all mopey.” 

The group around Rivers laughs again. Something cold steals up Alex’s spine. Moscow hadn’t been great for George. He’d got third on the Sunday but still had to coax her out, and she’d vanished off back to the hotel after only an hour or so.

He places the image of George on the plane home, swamped in her giant Lewis Hamilton hoodie, next to Rivers’ face now, his lips pulled back in a smirk that shows his incisors. “No, really, she’s kinda tame but, you know, easy for it.”

“Eh,” Jez Valdo is saying, and it’s like slow motion, the way Alex can see it coming, a shit comment as obvious as debris on the track, “she’s not hot enough to take your sloppy seconds.”

Alex’s end of the table is silent. When he looks up, Lance Stroll is staring him dead in the eye. Alex isn’t even sure why Lance is here - he’s not raced in Eurocup, he’s doing F4 in Italy this year. But his dad owns half the boys at the table, so Stroll Jr must go where he wants. 

It doesn’t matter - the point is, Alex meets his eyes, huddled under stormcloud brows, and has a single moment of pure, instinctive connection. He and Lance Stroll are as one for this bright, shining moment of their shared existence. It’ll never happen again; it’s a miracle it happens once. But as Alex’s grip on his pint turns white-knuckled, and he slides his glass to soak Valdo’s fucking stupid face, Lance knocks his wrist casually against River’s stein and sends it over the pair of them. 

“Oh,” Lance says, flatly. “My bad.”

[hana-bobo-finch]

IT IS TIME FOR ANOTHER WONDERFUL ROUND OF RANDOM PIKMIN HEADCANONS OKEY DOKEY

• Hocotate and Koppai are in the same solar system. Koppai is much further away from the sun than Hocotate so it has a colder climate than Hocotate. Creatures on Koppai have thick fur to compensate (and Koppaites have thicker body hair) (this is an excuse for me to draw fluffy things heehee)

• relating to that, one of the reasons Koppaites struggle with agriculture is because of the cold temperatures

• ^ and because the government sucks! I had a long drawn out conversation about this topic before and I will not just regurgitate all my points but the Koppaite government is corrupt!!! Yay!!! The food + poverty crises are used as a way to take advantage of people (not saying the government STARTED them purposely but they sure as hell didn’t try very hard to stop it)

• Most planets have their own native languages but over time and with advances in space travel they got less common. It used to be that only frequent travelers would learn the universal language, but as travel became more accessible more people started learning it and teaching it to their children by default.

• ^ even then a lotta people still have VERY thick accents.

• Koppaites have much worse hearing than most because of their rounded ears. While others have more of a cone shape to their ears, Koppaite’s ears are more flat and don’t pick up sound as well (and they can’t pinpoint where exactly sound comes from. You ever see how a cat twitches their ears aroun when they hear the slightest sound, that’s how most species are. Meanwhile Koppaites have the Bad Inferior Round Ear Gene)

• Ohrians have very specific pheromones they give off. YES this is because of the stupid comic I made where yonny “smells gay” it’s not MY fault everyone loves it for goodness sake even my friend who knows nothing about pikmin and who I didn’t think would find that sort of thing funny thought it was the funniest thing ever I’m so confused help

• Giya’s culture focuses heavily on dogs. Like how in Tokyo there’s these big ass billboards with hyper realistic 3d models of cats

• ^ dingo was so SO not prepared for that when he moved to giya to join the rescue corps. Save him. He is a pathetic creature. He didn’t do enough research before moving there he just wanted to become a ranger already. It was a horrific realization. The soggy-cat-of-a-man had a panic attack and almost made the impulsive decision to Get The Heck Outta There and move back to ohri. Bless his cold, dead heart

• Speaking of which! Dingo joined the corps about a year before yonny did. It was absolute torture for them both to have to have a long distance relationship ermmm friendship

• yonny only joined as the doctor because the old doctor FUCKING DIED!!! i don’t know how they died I just think it’s funny for there to be such a dramatic reason. maybe they got mauled by ravenous space bunnies. Sure let’s go with that.

• Hocotate freight is very very stuck in the past. Even for our standards. The president is a huge boomer who thinks old is gold. What he does not understand is that the fact that their equipment is falling apart is why they can’t stay afloat

• puddle wants so. SO BADLY. to do fashion experiments on the Koppaites. He thinks their different anatomy is so incredibly fascinating and he NEEDS to take full advantage of it (the only outward difference is their round ears but HE DOES NOT CARE.) He has on numerous occasions tried to manipulate the three into letting him pierce their ears. Guys come on. It would be so awesome. Please. Your ears are so cool let me look at them PLEASE

• ^ all three never let him. It makes puddle insane. He is normally such a nice and chill guy but it makes him so feral. Keep him away from them do not let him go near alph’s emo brother he WILL chase him with a piercing gun

• Hocotate Whiz (what, you don’t know what that is? It’s the company that spams your mail in pikmin 2 offering to help Hocotatians change jobs, I can’t believe you didn’t know that (I did not know this until a few minutes ago)) is ran solely by the families of Hocotate Freight workers. They spam the emails of the ships to try to convince the workers to change jobs because they KNOW that it is a hellhole and they NEED TO GET OUT. SAVE THEM. SAVE THE WORKERS OF HOCOTATE FREIGHT

• Bernard is Santi’s sleep paralysis demon

• Yonny has rusty and bloody medical equipment strewn across his lab for the sole purpose of freaking people out. He’s actually incredibly sanitary to the point of being borderline germaphobic

• as if Collin didn’t have enough work to do already he kinda fills the role of the team’s unofficial therapist. He doesn’t actually mind all too much bc he’s Way Too Nice but. Save him.

• the paint shepherd has under her eyes? It’s to reduce sun glare? WRONG. It’s because it looks AWESOME and she would totally paint her face with incredibly detailed designs but apparently looking like a walking painting is “unprofessional” and “disturbs the people we’re rescuing” and “stop spending our budget on face paint”

umm there’s probably more in my noggin but I am getting a headache so that is all 🧍

[dark-and-kinky-hetalia-scenarios]

Hi, can I request the darkest fantasies of yandere axis members?✨️

I love how you sent this 10 min after i started posting. I love you for it btw, you are now the subject of my yandereness. Congrats! (lol) I will also do the 2ps just for you:D

Anyways here are the fantasies!

1p Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt

So wants someone to be like a yandere towards him as well, in the bedroom preferably. Basically he wants to be loved like he loves, and he wants to be so secure in the relationship that he can give up all control in the bedroom sexy times

1p Italy/Feliciano Vargas

He wants to let go of all that holds him back and have the trust of his darling for free use basically, this doesn't mean he'll do something you have as a hard limit, it just means that he can do what he wants when he wants and you'll be eager and willing, to a certain extent of course. He doesn't want to really hurt you though

1p Japan/Kiku Honda

He knows this one isn't realistic as he doesn't have magic but he really wants to try to live out hardcore hentai scenarios like tentacles (he is in control of them)

2p Germany/Lutz Beilschmidt

The thought of having someone so devoted to him they would encourage him to kill anyone who looks at his partner is really hot to him. And then ofc fucking them so hard they need medical care while still loving it and begging for it.

2p Italy/Luciano Vargas

Blood, he wants to do all sorts of unspeakable things with blood, period blood, normal blood, doesn't matter. Though never to the point of a blood transfusion unless his blood is compatible and being used for it. The thought of you with his blood is a major turn on. But if you tried to leave him he'd do it if you don't have the same blood types, so you can never leave him

2p Japan/Kuro Honda

so i think for him and a childhood friend it would be to give each other a bit of your souls. Binding you forever, akin to soul mates, meaning that you can keep each other alive with this connection and all sorts of crazy things. And yes reaching out to touch the other's soul via this connection can be very pleasurable and is also part of his desire. The dark part of this is that he will basically own you, as he is proficient in soul magic, a magic anyone can do regardless of other magical abilities, also the hardest form of possible magic. He is so possessive that he wants to effectively own his partner for all eternity, woooo

Some Lore lol

so i haven't touched much on the magic system in my version of this world, but soul magic is what keeps 1p Prussia and 1p Romano alive, as their brothers unknowingly share a part of their souls with them, making that as long as the brother lives, so does said "should not be alive" country

Kuro knows this magic because he's an opportunist and he has a Katana blessed by the gods and it can take his victims souls (including his own, which is why he's super protective of it) and it powers him physically, making him dangerous as fuck. He's the last person you'd want to fuck with, and most of the other 2ps are not aware of this because he keeps his most powerful card a secret. He's not seen as a super powerful 2p, in reality he is one of if not the strongest, this comes through through many aspects, such as a high intelligence, tactical knowledge, charisma, and soul magic.

[xmo-rmon]

You know, I am by no means a fan of anything joe smith did, but I feel like, despite what he might have said or thought, his intentions were ultimately relatively small-scale because his con was entirely for immediate personal gain. ie: getting to do whatever he wanted with no consequence, mostly in the form of fucking as many women (and girls) as he wanted to while also claiming ownership of them. It was entirely about his own ego. I think mormons like to go “well he allowed a few black men to have the priesthood! he wasn’t racist!” No, he definitely was. He held no respect for black people, but he held no respect for anybody. You think a man who manipulates everyone around him into being his loyal followers is choosy about who can come and tell him he’s a good boy and back him up on the idea that he should get to do whatever he wants? That’s like saying “well he allowed women to be mormons, so he wasn’t misogynistic.” Uh-uh.

And I really do wonder, if things had gone differently, if he had not met the people he did, if he had lived out his life, if his little cult would have fizzled out or at least ended up very fringe today. Men like him start cults all the time. I mean look at jared leto and his harem island.

What I mean to say is, I wonder where the church would be if he never met brigham fucking young.

mormons love to either bury the horrendous things that man did or said, or even say “he said some things that would be considered racist today” and “we need to forgive past prophets for saying things that were normal at the time” and “the church as a whole can’t be represented by one man alone and it’s easy to understand what we truly believe.”

You absolute buffoons, the things he said and did were outrageously racist even for his time. He was a completely batshit mass-murdering maniac. Yes racist sentiments were common in his time but they were not universal, and even then, the average consensus was absolutely not “black people were cursed by god and the greatest blessing we could give them would be to kill them all.” Even in the speech where he says that he acknowledges that most people will not agree with him.

And you cannot create a system where one man is the king that speaks to god and go “well one man doesnt represent the church.” Yes he does, by your design. And no, it’s not easy to understand what you believe, because you’re so flowery and vague in order to avoid taking responsibility for anything. You worship joe smith for giving you the church as you know it today, but he fucking didn’t. You have the church as you know it today because a heartless, cruel man turned it into a colonizing force and literally called to exterminate the indigenous people that stood in his way. The church as you know it today was only made possible by mass fucking murder; you don’t get to go “well that’s not what the church is actually about”. If all that never should have happened then you are basically saying that there should be no mormon church. The very foundation of your institution was built on suffering and death.

“At some point the church stopped giving the priesthood to black men and we have no records as to why”

I wonder who you named your fucking university after then you fucking lying coward