#some people like to write theses

[bitter-post-millennial]

Doesn’t this also go both ways. If you’re allowed to like team black just because, why aren’t others allowed to like team green? You’re right. This is a television show. It has no bearing on real life people’s opinions on controversial issues (war). So why did you start the post with calling others misogynistic? It just feels weird that you did that.

people who are team green are either:

misogynistic. either not hiding it or subtle like republicans. or subtlety not hiding it.

only in it because they’re hot for aemond (aegon ii, helaena, cole, and alicent are also contenders)

taking this post too seriously, guys, they’re fictional teams and fictional characters

all of the above

[bmpmp3]

sorry to be a bit of a hater but i do wish youtubers weren't so scared of making their videos just like, "reviews", whys everything gotta be a "video essay" all the time. every day my recommendations are filled with 40 minute videos titled "_____: An Underrated Masterpiece" where the first like five minutes are reading the wikipedia definition of "masterpiece" in a somber voice with dramatic themed text on screen. please just tell me how good or bad you think something is and use the rest of the runtime to explain why. you dont need to put on all these airs

[clawsextended]

in my perfect world everyone makes so many lesbian muses the men then have to deal with the exact same behavior when every single post ever written isn’t about dick.

[year2000electronics]

really weird that im even saying this sentence but some people straight up do not have media literacy about trolls 3 the movie... if you demonize branch's big brothers unfairly do not FUCKING interact!!!!!

[grifxmain]

*slides in* hello there, sorry to bother you and feel free to delete this, but I noticed your tags on one of my posts and I just wanted to say I, too, have an oc who's a good witch and I think it's really neat you've had similar thoughts and ideas. anyway, I hope you have a great day

Ooo that's really neat! Honestly while I've thought about my oc a lot I've yet to ever write or draw anything for her story, but I just feel like there so much to explore about the world of rsat7d so I keep getting drawn back to it and what I think my oc's place in the worlds would be. It's such a shame that the movie's not more popular cause it's so good and I wish more people were talking about it and sharing their ideas on it

[iamfuckingsorry]

Writing the acknowledgement part of my thesis and god it's so frustrating. I don't really feel like I got that much support from my direct supervisor, I have been extremely asocial throughout and also just haven't really felt welcome/like I belong in this lab at any point (like, people here are all ambitious, have their shit together, talk about what frying pans they like and what gym they go to and their kids, and they all voluntarily wear business casual attire - for context my previous lab, which I quite liked, was like "no visible stains on your cargo pants and anime tees please" and my supervisor had 5 identical shirts to wear monday to friday, ate a head of lettuce for lunch every single day, and worked 5 am - 2 pm because he hated crowded trains that much). I did an extremely meh job as a direct result of how I felt about the department/lab (which, yes, can't really blame anyone else for this but anyway) and quite possibly fucked up my future chances of ever scoring a job in academia. But obviously I can't say that, I need to thank my supervisor and the PI and the department for providing support and being welcoming and whatnot, but it just feels so fucking /fake/...

Man, I'm too autistic for this shit

[bxnnybimbeax]

thinking about.. best friend!satoru gojo who immediately answers when you come calling

bestie!gojo who not-so-secretly, secretly has feelings for you

bestie!gojo who knows everything there is to know about you. Your oh-so wonderful taste in partners… Your likes and dislikes, hobbies, career plans, plans for the future.. anything and everything. Even if you do or don’t exactly tell him

bestie!gojo who drops everything that he’s doing to come see you, when hearing your incoherent sentences of something along the lines of, “…. dumped boyfriend… cheated..”

bestie!gojo who comforts you in your time of need. Listening to all your rants about your ex-boyfriend, supplying you with whatever he thinks would cheer you up, offering you comforting words instead of solutions.

What a great best friend to have!! Right..?

“I hate him so much! What a no good bitch ass womanizer!!” You exclaimed in a fit of rage, scrolling through the posts of the woman who, your ex cheated on you with, as satoru tiredly sighs.

“What does she have that I don’t-“ and before you could continue on, you get cut off by your best friend, Satoru. “Absolutely nothing, sweetheart. You should know your worth by now. It’s not something you have or ‘don’t have,’ it’s the simple minded mentality of… What’s his name again?— Doesn’t matter, He’s too simple minded to know the true worth of what he has in front of him.” He tangibly states, as if it was the most well-known fact in the world.

You attempted to up at him through your clouded vision, blinking away tears that spilled like waterfalls. Taking glances between Satoru, and the images on your phone, you stay silent as he studies you, pools of cool colored diamond eyes staring into yours, hoping to see any slight change of positivity.

He sighs again, taking a seat on your bed as he snatches your phone away from you, and before you could protest, he cuts you off once again… by pulling you close, into a hug. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him, as you let out all your pent up feelings. Sobbing into his chest, as he soothes circles into your back, not caring that you mess up whatever designer shirt he’s wearing.

Satoru’s heart breaks hearing you hurt, he wants nothing more than to ruin whoever was the cause of your problems. But right now, he’s more focused on you.

Satoru hushes your cries, wiping away the salty crystalline off your face as he speaks up, “Oh baby, don’t waste your tears on him. He has no idea what he’s missing out on. Don’t waste your energy on a leech that only takes from you, and never gives. Your deserve someone who reciprocates your feelings, and so much more.” He admitted in a dulcet tone, giving feathery caresses to the side of your face, as he placed a sparse kiss to the side of your temple.

“Cheer up, theses plenty of people who would give the world and die for your affection.” He states in a much more cheerful and playful tone, making you laugh in response to his exaggerated claim.

…

best friend! Satoru who stays with you, through the night. Comforting and creating a much more positive atmosphere to the contrasted gloomy mood

best friend! Satoru who maybe, you don’t see as just a friend anymore..?

A/N: Whats goody gangy. ☝🏾🤓 Sorry I was gone for 5 months I was going thru it with some bitch ass nigga I dumped, which is kinda what I based this fic off of, except no boy bsf I’m in love with to comfort me.💔 He made me delete tumblr so I couldn’t write 😞 I still kept on reading tho 😈

Not proof read btw, bc I’m high as a mf, writing with dyslexia. And it’s late a night, idk if it’s gonna be late when I post this tho😛

If y’all sent a request, resend it plssss. 🙏🏾 I need inspo mookies, and if you have a request feel free to send one in. Msg me abt wtv, and lmk if I can improve on anything

Thanks lovies take care and, hope y’all enjoyed!! 🩷

-bxnnybimbeax

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[metamatar]

i have a question and sorry if it sounds incoherent. why is it so important to marxists to distinguish that marxism is not “moral” or “ideological”? i understand that marxism is grounded in historical materialism and that it aims to understand how existing structures and institutions function with the specific goal of abolishing them in favour of a marxist state, but when it comes to understanding how to move forward past capitalism, how can MLs claim that it’s entirely objective and scientific? isnt the fundamental purpose of marxism (abolishing the oppressor class and putting the proletariat in power) a subjective one, given that it to support that you need to believe that abolishing the oppressor class is desirable in the first place? how would ML “scientifically” help people decide where the line is drawn on subjects like the death penalty and incarceration if its committed by a communist party (given that the decision that the cost of killing/imprisoning people is worth the boon it would give in establishing a communist state is still based on subjective goals?)

i don't think modern marxists should claim they're not ideological. im sure some do, but imo the correct claim is marxism is not idealist. i think some of this confusion comes from a popperian view of science as "neutral" or "objective" outside of time. how the political economy affects the propagation of ideology and the process of science as practiced in reality is very standard marxist analysis now. some of the claim to objectivity is something that most people claim belongs to their favourite philosophical project see the rawlsian veil of ignorance in liberalism. marx is also writing in a world where theological and religious reasoning have a lot of primacy in philosophy and he is drawing a clean break from that by hewing to scientific characterisation of his methods.

idealism, in the kantian sense is a philosophy that argues that our ideals (about say, fairness, justice etc) inform how we organise society. marxism, as philosophical project develops in response to kant and hegel to argue that the political economic base, ie the productive relations of society actually inform superstructure of ideals. to quote marx in the preface to critique of political economy: "it is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but their social existence that determines their consciousness."

for clarity's sake the idea that changes in the mode of production (mostly due to technology) transform the relations of production which is the main driving force of history is historical materialism. the analysis of why existing structures and institutions must be abolished therefore has to be grounded in analysis where such structures are considered variously – unstable, internally contradictory etc. if you view historical materialism as true, your theory of change cannot be that you'll change the world because it is unfair (an idea.) you can view the world as unfair as a marxist and talk about it to propagate the necessity of your project but that doesn't actually give you a blueprint on how to change it.

capitalists are oppressors, but marxism doesn't view the problem in their oppressive or evil natures. capitalist economies demand even the most moral capitalist to exploit the proletariat. but! it is desirable to abolish there class relations not merely because they are unfair and exploitative but because these class relationships cause workers to develop class consciousness, recognise their power and abolish capitalism.

on your specific example, i don't think marxism can or should claim their are no moral dilemmas. historical materialism doesn't assert that there are no conflicting understandings of history. walter benjamin's theses on the philosophy of history is imo good reading here.

so i dont think your concern about why it's important for marxists to believe this makes sense, because this is what marxism is. if you don't find this convincing, you're not a marxist. you could be an anarchist, or a social democrat or a radical liberal.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Good news. Did some decent progress on What’s Up Danger so you guys will finally get fed this Wednesday! Bad news, the quality might not be the best since I’m fasting while writing it oTL

Anyways, here are some Batfam w/ Cat Villain! Reader moments/snippets.

TW YANDERE AND MENTION OF NONCON/SOMNO

Both Jason and Reader’s first words to each other were, “What the fuck.”

Reader referring to Jason being a giant, and violent asf esp in comparison to Dick. While Jason was confused at his heart beating so fast and mildly crushing on you while you were fighting.

Bonus points: You guys did the spiderman point meme.

You have the biggest age gap with Dick. I headcannon the boys to be close in age so there wouldn’t be any not so good implications when it comes to relationships, but it’s almost unavoidable unless Batman switches sidekicks every year or so. (You are younger than Jason but older than Tim)

But that is also another reason why you two didn’t click as well as you did with Jason

You’d often make jokes or use slang and Dick would just be “???” He tried his best though.

On the reverse side of things, and like I mention before Tim and you got along too well as friends. He’s one of the few people you could gush to about literally any fandom and he somehow (through stalking your searches and literally every gadget/appliance you owned) knew everything about it already.

You two have written several theses on fellow vigilantes and villains (mostly ‘dumb’ ones like who has the best cake based on so and so criteria)

Damian is the best when it comes to bantering with you mid-fight. It’s the combined years of sass and assassin training. Went from plain insults to whole ass (not so) subtly being horny when you beat each other down.

He’s also the worst (best?) when it comes to your nicknames. He insists that you two use it on each other. Some exclusive while others he’s usually fine hearing from other mouths.

There was one point in time where you were called Kitten while the boys forced/bribed you to call them Daddy

Tim and Jason have tattoos of you/related to you.

For Jason it’s your name with a few paw prints, and for Tim it’s when he first fought you (and got his ass whooped)

After Jason came back and revealed himself to you, he tattooed the scratch marks you left him on his back after doing the deed.

Damian secretly practices doing henna so he can draw on you during your “wedding” since he doesn’t want anyone touching you. Sort of defeats the purpose, but go off king.

Being the thorough guy he is, he uses lab equipment to make his own blends.

Bruce? Bruce hates your ass. Sometimes it’s in a hatefuckey way but most of the time he blames you for corrupting his kids.

So he corrupted you in turn.

I feel like he gets off to cucking them honestly (blame that one comic) but if Reader is AFAB I wouldn’t be surprised if he impregnated them.

He’s a softie at heart when it comes to you though, courtesy of your similarities with Selina.

Speaking of, Talia adores you.

Like if there was anyone she would want with her son it was you.

She thinks the fact that you haven’t been put behind bars is a testament to your skill, and after getting over your similarity to her “rival in love” she would actively get you to be with her son.

Eventually she realizes she loves you more than Bruce and well, that’s a story for another fic.

You have at least a dozen trackers on you at all times.

Most of them you’ve ingested and pooped out.

It’s mostly Tim of course. But the duty of actually feeding you that stuff usually goes to Dick.

Dick has uh- somnophillia’ed you a fair bit after the break up.

He really, and I mean really likes to watch you sleep.

It reminds him of those ‘catnaps’ you’d take while watching over the Titans.

There would be times where he’d just be in a daze/in autopilot for hours reminiscing about your past together

His favorite memories to go back to were your first fight together, first kiss, and times under the sheets, and a date you guys had before in a festival/circus.

He never takes the antidote for Poison Ivy’s sex pollen and always comes to you for it, regardless of his or your relationship status.

Tim has at least a million typewritten chats with AI you, and around a few hundred hours of voice chats.

You did eventually take his virginity.

He came as soon as he was inside you/you were inside him.

You have been offered to be a part of the bat crew or a vigilante. But,

you massacred many after Jason’s supposed death and feel too guilty to call yourself anything other than a villain.

Chokers with bells. It’s a popular gift to give you. Especially ones that are custom made with expensive ass materials and engraving.

Sometimes Tim just gives you weapons.

Alfred is your best source of blackmail material.

You’ve actively tried cursing him (with immortality). You love the man.

He’s secretly the president of your official fanclub/fansite but you didn’t hear that from me.

You fight a lot with Damian’s pets. Like in a way that you turn into a literal cat and hiss at them.

And last but not least, you’re vv close with every member of the Teen Titans (besties with Rachel and Garfield)

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

@sophiethewitch1

[amyminhminh]

⋆*･ﾟ You ⋆ ☾*･ﾟ:

Tags: Wanderer x reader, gn!reader

Summary: Wanderer misses your presence while you are away and fortunately, you come back home.

──────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────────

Wanderer flipped the pages begrudgingly, his tired eyes drooping under the dim light.

Kusanali had made him write more theses more often lately, and not to mention his additional work of helping the young god around Sumeru. Everything was taking a toll on him and he didn’t like it one bit.

His beloved was out at that time. He missed your presence. Your sweet scent. Your voice… Your everything. He just wanted to see your small form slipping through the door of your shared home, tip-toeing on the floor boards to surprise him. He craved to feel your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he finally relaxed in your embrace. That way, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything else.

“Hah…”

Puppets like him don’t experience exhaustion, yet his eyes threatened to close at any given moment. He didn’t want to write theses anymore. The only thing he wanted then was you. And you alone.

He was in a trance, thinking of you. He could feel the presence of your arms snaking their way on his tensed shoulder blades, hugging him from behind. Your intoxicatingly sweet smell tickled his senses. He breathed out in a huff.

“Boo.”

His eyes snapped open as he tensed up. He let his guard down. He would and had never let his guard down like that. But he did.

A head appeared in view and he froze like a statue. He would have activated his vision and attacked at that moment, but his body refused to move.

The thought went away as soon as he recognized the face that he had been yearning for.

“What’s got you so tense? Missed me so much?”

Your eyelashes fluttered at the sight of him working on his theses. He hated writing them but he just couldn’t bring himself to reject Lesser Lord Kusanali. Everytime complaints escaped from his lips, you would always ruffle his hair, treating him like a little kid throwing a tantrum over spilled ice cream. But what a sweetheart you were. You would often offer help if you had time, and he appreciated that.

You were always so kind, so understanding… to everyone. Even to strangers. It made him worry about your safety whenever you had the need to go outside without him. And having been betrayed three times in his life, he wanted you to show your kindness towards only him.

Sometimes he just wanted to lock you up in the house to protect you. To love you. To have all your affection for himself.

“Wanderer? Whatcha thinking about?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Slapping himself internally, he sighed at the overflowing thoughts circling around his artificial mind. He needed to stop with his possessiveness. It reminded him of…

Nevermind. It seemed like he stayed silent for too long.

“Nothing. Just brainstorming some ideas for theses.”

On your plump lips plastered a smile. The same smile he had adored from the first time he met you.

“You seem tired. You should take a rest. And don’t pull the ‘I’m a puppet, I don’t feel tired!’ on me. You sound like that adeptus from Liyue I know.”

Liyue? Adeptus? There you went, going around all places and meeting new people. Not like he could stop you. But he just couldn’t help the jealousy bubbling up inside his body, urging him to take action. Though he wouldn’t do things like those characters in novels. Yanderes… if he recalled correctly. The novel he had read was published by the Yae Publishing House. Yeah, Inazuma. He knew. But he had to admit the writing style was quite… enthralling to say the least. And a bit provocative, he had to add. All of the phrasing in the book made his mind wander to a certain fox…

Back to the point, all of the yandere’s actions were what his Fatui self would do. He as Wanderer would not cage you inside and punish you for being too close to others.

Or would he?

“Hey, you seem out of it today. What’s wrong? Are the theses’ topics too hard to work on? You know what, I’m taking these. You need rest and I, myself will guard by your side so you can have your beauty sleep!”

Your lips touched the tip of his ear like gentle sakura petals fluttering down in the start of spring. The soft breathing of yours sent pleasant vibrations to his body.

“And I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer!”

For a moment, your lips fluttered against his forehead, then his nose, then his cheek. You kissed everywhere on his pale porcelain face. Your kisses were coaxing him to sleep. But you left his lips alone. As if you were teasing him, you didn’t even bother eyeing them.

“Alright. I will freshen up and join you in bed.”

Wait. No kiss?

He could not believe it. His hand rushed to take hold of your wrist and twirled you around to meet his face. Time seemed to slow down as he smashed his lips onto yours, feeling your breath hitch among light gasps.

Two bodies squished up to one another on the sofa. The house was only brightened up by small lamps, competing with the twinkling of the stars in the vast dark sky he once called fake. Beautiful as it was, it could not compare to the sight of you leaning onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck, head leaning back as he peppered featherlight kisses on your neck.

He was suppressing his desire to just throw you on the soft sheets and bury his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that had his mind go hazy. He could not deny that the presence of you being there had boosted his energy somewhat. The strange grogginess had disappeared the second you came in. He wanted you so badly that it was hurting. But he needed to consider the fact that you had just come home, your rest was necessary. Perhaps he would have to wait until the next sun rose up…

“Wanderer…”

Lifting his head to look into your eyes, he gazed at you as if you were the most enchanting thing in the world. And you are.

“I love you.”

“So much.”

“What’s with the sudden affection?”

A chuckle rose from your throat as his eyes bore into yours, twinkling in the warm light.

“I love you, too. Now, come on… don’t you want me to freshen up? Let go, you big man baby… Actually, minus the big part-”

Before he could react, your frame sprung up from the couch and you sped to the bathroom, not forgetting to stick your tongue out at his face.

“I’m going to get you back for this…”

He huffed out with a sigh. Without noticing, the corners of his lips curled up into a slight smile. This was what he had always wanted. To love you.

And to be loved by you.

──────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────────

Word count: 1162 words

[gpcwsl]

Hi! for a caitlin foord request, do you think you could write caitlin foord x williamson!reader? reader isn’t an arsenal player but hangs out with the team a lot. maybe a party at leah’s and the team plays spin the bottle or something. thank you 💕

**Warnings** : Swearing, kissing, making-out, just an little suggestive and not probably read through. I am also not shipping any of theses people, it’s a fan-fiction work.

Caitlin Foord x Williamson/Reader:

An unexpected (spinning) twist.

Teaming bonding night was often. Very often for Y/N’s sake but she adores it either way. She loves her sister’s teammates, could never get sick of them.

Y/n wasn’t an footballer unlike her sister, who was one year younger than she was. She wasn’t as successful as Leah either, but she didn’t care one bit. Y/n actually haven’t got a job currently. She quit her job back in Leicestershire a few months ago when things got, well not great. Leah complained to her so many times to move away from there and come join her in London. So a few months in and things have really started to become so much better for her. And maybe more brilliant to come.

Again, Leah insisted on a team bonding small party at her (now hers and Y/n’) house. Of course, majority coming. Some being busy, having plans with their families or just wanting a chill evening which makes sense since they played a thrilling match. Alessia, Beth, Frida, Kyra, Katie, Caitlin, Emily and Lia. The ones were stocked to come.

Fast forward to around an hour later. Where everyone was talking, laughing around. Then the child, the pest of them all came up with an, terrible but not so terrible for the future, game.

Kyra insists that they should play spin the bottle. Everyone, and I mean everyone immediately deny her wishes. But, after a-lot of pestering. Here they are sat in a circle, on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Who will spin first.” Kyra asks, a big massive smile on her face.

“This is why we don’t invite you to stuffs, Kyra. Seriously? Spin the bottle is for kids, teenagers! Not grown adults!” Lia whines, hating the idea she might have to kiss someone.

“Come on! It won’t mean anything, just a little kiss. But, can’t be a peck. The kiss has to last at least five seconds long.” Kyra says, pointing out the rules which makes some groans and some curse Kyra under their breaths.

“Okay, okay. Lia since yours being mean, you spin first.” Kyra says, smiling smugly at the Swiss midfielder. Who rolls her eyes in return. “Let’s get this over with.”

Spinning the bottle it landing on Leah, who was opposite to her. Everyone ‘ooo’ as the two grow rose-red. Chanting ‘kiss, kiss, kiss.’ like a bunch on three year olds.

Leah makes the first move, leaning forward grabbing Lia’s chin; pulling her in, till there lips touch. Holding her lips on Lia’s for five seconds before slowly pulling away and retreating to her spot on the floor with beat red rosey cheeks, mirroring Lia’s.

Kyra then springs into action, wanting to spin next. Landing on Alessia. She immediately smiles up at her. Alessia rolls her eyes but there is a hint of enjoyment in Kyra’s actions. “Just get it over with.”

“By all means.” Kyra mumbles, smiling as she mirrors Leah’s actions. Gently grabbing Alessia’s chin; leaning forward kissing her softly, for more than five seconds as their lips move together. But then, Alessia breaks the kiss by shoving Kyra back in a playful manner, who then giggles in return. “Enjoyed that, Lessi?”

“Fuck off-“

“Right! Who’s next?” Kyra says, looking among the circle. “Caitlin?”

“Dammit-“ Caitlin whispers, as she shifts forward reaching for the bottle; mumbling curses words as she watching the bottle spin. As the bottle spins, it feels like it’s going in slow motion for Caitlin. Her eyes darting to a pacific figure across from her, who’s watching the bottle intensely. Huffing to herself before moving her eyes back to the bottle when it fully stops. Her eyes widen. Did fate do this? He eyes then going back to the figure, who now was already looking at her.

“No! No, no, no! I forbid for you to kiss anyone. I shouldn’t have even let you play this game.” Leah says, her sister manner coming in quick.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” Everyone but, Leah, Caitlin and Y/n chant. Y/n smiles at her before leaning in. But whispering. “You sure you wanna do this?”

Caitlin nods her head, her eyes fixated on Y/n lips before being the one to close to gap. Hesitantly connecting their lips. Just like Kyra’s and Alessia’s. The kiss lasted longer than five seconds. But, it lasted longer than ten seconds. As their found a rhythm of the kiss. Caitlin’s hands going on Y/N’s waist does it for Leah. Who immediately pulls them away. “Okay, that’s it. Stop kissing.”

“Cock-blocker.” Y/n says, smirking at Caitlin. Leah rolls her eyes, smacking her sister’s knee. “Don’t care if you guys just expressed some feelings that were just discovered right then and now. Just expressed them alone. I don’t want to see my sister making out with one of my friends.”

Y/n and Caitlin blushes before Y/n steps in. “Could say the same thing for you and Miss Swiss over there.” Leah goes bright red, flipping off her sister. “I’m done, I’m tired; I’m just done.”

“Oh come on- some of you haven’t kissed anyone yet-“

“Kyra, it’s time for you to leave.” Leah says, shaking her head as she pushes Kyra towards the door.

Caitlin grabs Y/N’s hand, holding her back. “Hey, can we talk?” Caitlin smiles softly at her. Y/n instantly smiles back, nodding her head. Looking over her shoddier seeing the others are preoccupied. She moves the two of them to an oboe place, the hallway of the downstairs bathroom and garage. “What’s up?”

“I-I just wanna talk about the kiss we had and I wanna know if it meant something.” Caitlin says, her eyes fixated on the floor.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t have kissed you longer than ten seconds if I didn’t.” I whisper, having an déjà vu moment as I leans forward cupping her chin. “May I?”

Caitlin nods, her eyes now on Y/N’s lips. Y/n places her lips on Caitlin. Not having any hesitation like last time. Her hands now fully cupping her cheeks as Caitlin’s slide around her waist. Kissing softly with a passion rhythm that gets slighlty out of control. Caitlin pushing her back makes Y/‘s back slam against the wall, groaning in response but doesn’t give any indication to stop the kissing.

Being to invested in the kiss, the two didn’t see or hear someone coming to them. “Caitlin? Are you leaving or- oh my god!”

The two breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, lips swollen as they look at the blonde defender. “Okay, I’m guessing you are staying the night. Just don’t make much of a sound, please.” Leah then walks away, her body shivering at the sight she just encountered. Y/n groans at her sister’s words, flipping her off.

“Am I staying the night?” Caitlin asks, smiling at Y/n. Her hands still in her waist. Y/n smiles back, nodding her head. “Yeah, I would love that.” “Me too.”

[daenysthedreamersblog]

STRANGERS

Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love

Freezer bride, your sweet divine

You devour like smoked bovine hide

How funny, I never considered myself tough

summary: you've won the hunger games, and ready to return home in peace, but president snow has other plans for you, and he won't take no for an answer.

pairings: president!coriolanus snow x district6!reader

warnings: MDNI!, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, power imbalance, coercion, heavy drinking, non-con male masturbation, non-con oral sex (m receiving), roses ( pls let me know if i forgot any!)

notes: im new at publishing on tumblr so pls be patient with me! also new at writing in second person POV so sorry for any mistakes! hope u enjoy! there will be more parts coming soon!

Blood splatters onto your face.

"Please," He mouthed underneath you, but the knife was plunging down anyways. You couldn’t hear it.

The crunch of a sternum bone.

Silence. Cold silence rang in your ears and you blinked climbing off of the body a distant boom rupturing around the arena, but you only felt to shake of it, the sudden vibrational change in the air. You looked around the sun blaring down onto you as you turned away from the dead boy, you stumble forward, knee giving out from under you before you collapsed to the ground rolling onto your back staring upward. The blood oozed from the wound on your leg, it stung, it stung harshly, but it was welcomed.

It was over. Everything. It was over and all you were met with was blood stained hands and silence. You could smell the rot forming in your soul.

Boots were pounding into the ground, surrounding you, guns pointing at your body. Hands wrapped around your biceps pulling you, dragging you out of purgatory and into the looming light ahead.

~

"Congratulations." He whispered placing the small crown on your head, a dainty gold thing, his hands lingering too long on a wisp of your hair. The games had cut off your tongue it seems words never rising to the surface. His hand was under you chin, "Smile. You've won." It felt like a command so the corners of your mouth tugged up as the camera flashed upon you, shaking hands with your esteemed president.

"Thank you." His jaw ticked at your slip, the lack of his title, but he shook your hand anyways as Lucky Flickerman’s crew zoomed in for their close up. The motions were clear, set into place as you read the prepared words off the telecom. If you could get through this then you could return home where it was simple and safe. You would be okay once the Capitol train dropped you off in District 6 where you can happily watch it all disappear forever.

A hand slid to the small of your back, your spine locking up as another photo flashed of the two of you. Your smile stumbled as his shoulder pressed into yours heat pouring off of him where your bodies collided.

You met his eyes, face half turned towards each other, and your cheeks burned with a flush.

The only good thing about winning was finally eating and drinking real food again.

You downed cups and flutes of any alcohol you could find shoved into your hands drowning out the sound of people talking, congratulating you. It was cruel really how when the film of a camera was replaced it sounded like small bones cracking, so your drank more. Why were they so thankful? They arranged for you to be there...they sent you to either die or kill for them. Because some great-great grand-whatever rebelled, so now you had to live with the consequences of someone else actions.

Your brain was beyond heavy, mouth no doubt stained red from the wine. One more day, one more day and you would be going home to die of hopefully natural causes some other time. One more day and you would be out of this hateful city, away from theses entitled, hateful people. You felt it then, the dryness in your throat, the angry water welling in your eyes. You set the empty cup down, stumbling away from the party silent tears beginning to unwarrantedly roll down your cheeks. You gripped the railing as you climbed the stairs towards the mansion doors needing to hide away from the world, and when you reached the top you pushed it open harshly. The heels of your shoes clicked on marble floor in an empty hallway, a door slamming shut behind you as you kept moving. The hallway was spinning like you were stuck in a concrete mixer turning and turning and turning.

You tripped over your foot catching yourself by throwing a hand out to the wall, collapsing onto a small cushioned bench. The groan left your mouth as you slid out of your shoes feet aching, you felt the long gash of the scar the District 2 tribute had given you. It was taking a while to fully close, the wound on you soul would never heal either it seemed.

More tears. More anger.

"You should be celebrating." The cold, calculating voice cut through the air.

You could only roll your head upward, too drunk, too ashamed to be afraid at the surprise. Fresh tears rolled down your cheek. "I did."

Footsteps were coming towards you, slow, like the wolf hunting a doe, and that was when your body alerted, when he had stepped into your space, head snapping towards him. He looked as calm and collected as his tone, a rich black suit fitted to his lean body, a hand lazily in his pocket as his legs bracketed in your knee. "Then why are you in here? I have a whole party out there for you and you hide away in my home.”

"Too noisy." You stared up at him with red rimmed eyes as he towered over, your vision fuzzy at the corners.

His knuckle came up to your cheek collecting the tear freshly traveling down makeup covered skin. "You should be celebrating." He repeated the moisture glistening on his bone. "Not crying."

You sniffed, your voice cracking from crying, "Sorry sir."

"Mr. President." He corrected.

"Sorry, Mr. President sir." You cleared your throat offering him a fake smile.

His hand came under your chin, a pinky resting on your jaw his thumb tracing puffy, wine stained lips, "That's a good girl. Too much wine I suspect hmm?" You only nodded as he held you face, held your life with it too. You might have won his games, but he could still ruin everything, ruin the little family left back home. He had always made that clear to everyone; it wasn’t a shock people started dying soon after they crossed him.

"Yes. Mr. President, sir.” For some reason another tear slipped out with a wide eyed blink.

"You look so pretty when you cry." He traced over your lip one more time gently pushing in until the pad of his thumb pressed against your tongue. You heard the wet noise of his lips parting, as he took a quiet deep breath your teeth grazing his skin. Then he popped it out, bought it to his mouth, sucking gently on your leftover wine. "Come." He wrapped his arm around your bicep pulling you to your feet in front of him. "Let's get you some food, introduce you to some more friends of mine, and then bed." Two hands stroked down your hair holding your head between his palms. "How does that sounds my little victor?"

A dark gaze lingered in his eyes that there was no way around what he wanted, no telling him no. So you let him bend down and slip your shoes back on keeping your face towards the opposite wall. ”Yes Mr. President, sir.” His hand lingered too long on your bare ankle before he rose.

He smiled, a snake like gleam in it, like he had finished wrapping his body around his victim to suffocate it. One more day, and then you were done. He could introduce you to whoever he liked, feed you whatever he wanted, but come tomorrow on that beautiful train ride home the Capitol, the games would be a distant traumatizing memory, and he would just be a face on a screen come next year.

He plucked the white rose off the front of his suit jacket, took the pin out, and tucked it behind your ear to sit prettily in your hair.

His hand wrapped around your waist causing you to grip his forearm to stumble out into the party once more. Your eyes scanned the party, catching on a young girl, the winner from District 4. Her name started with an M, but you couldn��t find the rest of it in you hazy brain. The only thing you could focus on was the sad frown etched upon her pretty face as President Snow dragged you through his party.

6 months later

You wiped dirt off on your pants standing up to admire the blooming garden spread out in front of you. A smile flittered onto your face for only a moment before it fell staring at the wilting leaves on top of wet soil. They had fallen no doubt during a weeding or pruning or plain decay, but they were there ready for the earth to absorb them for nutrients.

Did the arena absorb their decaying bodies too or were they flown away somewhere else? Did they go back to their families so they could rest in peace?

You shook the thought grabbing gardening tools and the water can heading back to the house. Time was helping, the white noise of the district was helping, the trains going by were helping. The only reminder you had ever been carted away...well that and the large sum you had been gifted upon winning. You decided to ration it, save it but comfortably. It was the only thing truly stopping you from drowning yourself in alcohol or morphling, and the disappointed look your father had given you when they had carried you off the train, too wasted to walk. You took up gardening soon after the initial withdrawing, rotting period needing to keep you hands, your mind busy.

The scent of vanilla hit you as soon as you entered the house your body freezing on the threshold. It was a warm vanilla scent, which meant your mother had made tea, which meant there was company. You set your tools down, peeling off you mud stained boots. Your mother laughed as you slowly continued down the hall, the sound muffled by the kitchen wall you had yet to curve around to enter the kitchen. Alarms shot off in your head, the hair on your neck standing up knowing it wasn't anyone from District 6.

"Mother." You called seeing the outline of her at the table.

"Darling." Your mother smiled as you turned the corner, eyes flitting over to the man across the table from her sipping on his tea. A fresh bouquet of white roses sat in a new vase at the center of the table. "We have a guest."

"Mr. President." Your mouth dried out, feet heavy, gluing you to the middle of the kitchen. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Your mother only stood up rushing towards you, taking your hands to sweetly drag you to the table. "Come sit, my darling bluebell." She forced you into an empty chair around the modest circular table, a plaid green table cloth covering it. You kept eyes on him as she poured tea into the only empty cup. Once the kettle was down she discreetly tried to wipe dirt off your face, "Always covered in something from your little garden."

President Snow mouth quirked up. "Garden?"

You only managed a nod. ”It was a small little thing, something to help…” Her eyes dropped, “Something to keep her busy, and well before you knew it it had taken up most of the lawn." Another discreet pat on the cheek. "I have never been more proud than when I see her out there working on it." She chuckled, "Well besides when you put the tiara on her head." You inwardly cringed at the word tiara, at the reminded of what had been done to earn it.

"My grandmother grew roses." He motioned to the red one he worse pinned to his blue suit. His eyes met yours, "Do you?" A small nod as steam swirled up from the tea that would never be drank, "May I see them?"

Your mother stood up answering, "Of course." Her hands came upon you shoulders, "Go change and show our lovely President." You pushed the chair back using it as an escape for the moment, "Wash your face, and put on that pretty blue sun dress." You didn't answer, only walked back down the hall to your room finally able to breath normally away from his suffocating presence. What was he doing all the way out here? You had figured, had clung, to the fact you would never have to see him, or the Capitol again, and now he was here invading your home.

After washing your shaking hands and face, digging the dirt out of your nails, and braiding your hair back did you put that stupid sundress on and walk back out. Your mother was standing by the door a forced smile on her lips, "Yes sir, no sir." She reminded you, pulling small tendrils of hair loose around your face. "Don't speak unless spoken to."

"I know." You told her, forcing her hands away from your face reciting what your father and mother had both instilled in you. "I am grateful for what you've done for us President Snow."

"Mr. President Snow, sir." She pinched your cheeks to give them color then let you step around her and out of the house.

He was standing near the edge of the garden just before the walkway split separating each sections. "It truly does take up most of the lawn." He smiled holding out his arm for you. You slowly allowed him to hook it under his elbow to lead down the walkway. "It smells divine."

"Thank you." You swallowed, "Mr. President, sir."

He only smirked, "Your mother raised a well mannered woman."

You offered him a shy smile, ”My father and mother always instilled proper etiquette as best as they could. They emphasized respect and dutifulness."

"Important traits to have." He agreed. He was Capitol, he was the president, no doubt relishing in the fact district folks weren't born with those traits, they had to have it beat into them.

His hand clamped around yours, trapping it in his arm. Your breaths shook, don’t stutter. "My roses are just this way." You motioned up the path for him to lead in that direction.

The rose bush could have looked better, but it had always been a work in progress, a difficult flower to manage, and your heart had never truly been fond of roses. Red and yellow seeds were the only color you could acquire so the colors sometimes missed their mark or died all together. “Troublesome for you?” There was no hiding the disappointment in his tone.

“Yes.” An embarrassed response. "I'm tempted to rid myself of them."

"Hmm," He stepped forward fingers running along the soft petals. "I have a garden full of white roses, I brought some for you today."

You gave him a small smile. "Thank you. I'm sure my mother adores them."

"They're for you, not her." He flatly told you a sneer on his face. "A gift of sorts to my favorite little victor." He smirked down at the bush plucking a perky red rose from its stem. "Or what did she call you?" He turned back towards you, "Her darling bluebell?"

The blush bit at your cheeks, "Thank you. Mr. President sir." He smiled deeply tucking the stem of the rose behind your ear rooting it into the braid. "They are lovely." I lied. The scent of roses overtook the air to the point you felt dizzy with it, felt them swallowing you whole like he did.

"I do hope your mother won’t mind looking after it all.” He sighed his hand running down your arm as blood drained out of you, the question sitting leaden in your mouth. "We're trying something new, something Dr. Gaul believed would bring good publicity to the games." You chewed on your cheek, biting the refusal back. You remembered hearing about her death a year or two ago. "A victory tour of sorts." Both hands were on your arms holding you in front of him, "You'll go district to district letting them celebrate you and then finish at the Capitol. I'm going to throw you another party."

Oh

His hand came under your chin tilting your face up to him, "How does that sound my little bluebell?"

"Okay." You whispered because it was what was supposed to be said to him.

He beamed, "Such a good girl." His smile fell, "Since this is the first time we're doing it I'll be going with you of course to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Ice coated you. How long would this be? Would he ever let you remain in peace? Would the garden wither and die in the time you would be gone? Why did he stare like that?

You only nodded the obedience in your spine locking into place.

It wasn't horrible. The train was comfy and reminded you of home, the rumbling sound it made, the smell of the smoke and gasoline, the horn blaring through the night. They had written words, of course, to say at every district, reciting from a script how sorry you were for their losses and how thankful you are for the Capitol and their generosity. President Snow talked the most which was ironically a godsend since you didn't want to speak at all.

Mostly, there was food, tons of food...and wine.

You more self-indulgent habit to make the time go by smoother. Even more so now because you could, because it was free, because your parents weren't here to shame you. You would stop once you got home; you had done it before. When the tour was over, you would stop, you would go back home, relish in the normalcy, the garden, where it was safe. Where no one could find you.

Snow wouldn't be on the train ride home.

It unnerved you that he was here simply a few train cars down, eating, sleeping, plotting murder no doubt, planning more games. It only made you swig from the bottle more to shove the anxiety down.

You had crawled in the train car window, a comfy seat under it, curling you feet under you to watch the night blur past. Each bump comforted you, like you were in the older train cars carting people around the district. The moon wasn't out making any outline impossible to see, so you closed your eyes, pretending to hear the bustling square at home. You took another drink of wine savoring the lazy feeling coating your body.

The door slid open no doubt an Avox coming to do some chore, so you didn’t even bother to look. "You didn't come to dinner." Your head snapped up seeing Snow standing in the door a tray of food in his hands, "They said you only grabbed a bottle of wine and left."

"I wasn't hungry." Not a lie, you had felt ill since leaving District 9 the tributes faces beginning to gnaw at you once more. You had survived, and they hadn’t, and it felt wrong. "Mr. President, sir."

He wasn't wearing his normal suit instead a pair of dress pants, and a starched white button up, the top two buttons undone. His immaculate blonde hair was slightly mused a stray curling piece falling onto his forehead. "Come eat with me." You weighed the options before unfolding your legs out and turning to slid off the sill. You tugged at the nightgown they had shoved in the closet for sleep, a soft thin robe covering your shoulders over it. They hadn’t allowed you to bring any clothes from home. His eyes glanced up your body as you pulled it tighter around you.

"Excuse my appearance Mr. President, sir." You sat down across from him.

"No need." He only smiled as he pushed the tray. "Do you like the train?"

You nodded picking at the food, "It reminds me of home. We used to live by the test track before it moved, and it used to rumble the house. I used to hate it growing up, but now it seems to have grown on me."

"I bet it has." You should enjoy the food more, shovel it down until it was nothing. Your family had never suffered too much within the district not like the others, like 10,11,12... but it wasn't exactly always easy. The Capitol was always cramming food down your throat before and after the games, before you had reveled in it, the after...it tasted like dust in my mouth sometimes. You set the fork down pushing the half eaten tray away, but he only pushed it back. "Eat, please." You began to open your mouth in protest, but his jaw ticked. "Eat." A command, "All of it."

You watched his face, bottom lip trembling at the new tone he was using. It was bound to come out, but you had been so kind, always listened. You slowly began eating again forcing each bite until nothing remained, until your chest was tight with a full stomach. You took a sip of water. Always thank him, your mother had whispered on your way out of the door, Even if you are not thankful.’ “Thank you, Mr. President sir."

"You are so good to me, my little bluebell." He leaned forward the darkness engulfing the blue in his eyes. "Can you do something for me?" You made yourself nod even-though fear was trickling down your skin. He motioned with his head, "Go lie down on the bed."

The color drained from your face, "Wh-What?"

Don't stutter.

You cursed inwardly for the slip. ”Be my good girl and go lie down on the bed." His grin widened, “I won’t say it again.”

By the time your knee hit the bed tears had slipped over, you tried to stop them, but they welled anyways as you turned to look at him. He stalked towards you unbuttoning his pants, unzipping them, so you forced your gaze upward taking in the sounds of rustling. His hands pushed the robe down your shoulders letting it pool onto the bed. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to stop him as his fingers trailed along your bare shoulders, along your collarbones, up your neck. "Spit." He held out his hand. You swallowed, pulling the liquid back up and spit into his palm watching him bring it between his legs. You forced yourself to not look down, not look at what his hand was doing with a large length, to not look as he slid his hand along it. His other hand came up to your face, once again dragging across your bottom lip, pushing his finger further in, hooking it onto your bottom teeth. "Suck on it." He growled. You blinked fresh tears out before letting your tongue poke and lick up his finger, swirling around his knuckle listening to his pants. A cry of protest sat in your lungs, but would it matter? Were you always bound to be at his mercy, cursed to obey his whims to exert his power. “You listen so good." His head fell back a little the small groan hiding the sounds of him stroking himself. “Will you take my cock good too?”

"Please." You whimpered against his hand finding the smallest resistance in yourself at his words. "Please sir...I'm a virgin. I-I don't-!"

He shoved you back onto the bed with a growl his knees straddling your thigh as he pumped his hand faster and faster groaning into the air as two fingers invaded your mouth thrusting along your tongue. You felt violated, but all you could do was lie there and take it, let him do whatever he was doing because you were good, because he was the president and you had to obey. You closed your eyes tears burning your skin on the way his movements shook your body, until finally he stilled warmth shooting over your skin.

You finally breathed as he removed his fingers and stepped away. You lied there, listening to him straighten his clothes back on. "Don't change. Sleep in that." You glanced down at the white clumps running down your nightgown, some even drying to your exposed chest.

He stared at you expectantly. Thank him, even when you're not thankful. "Thank you Mr. President, sir.”

His grin was haunting as he left.

The rest of the tour went unbothered. He only occasionally came back to repeat those events, but each time it got a little easier as you began to know what to expect, each time you dared to look a little bit more. Sometimes even getting lost in the way his hand glided across his glistening cock covered in your spit. On the rare nights, you even gazed upward at him, at his hooded eyes, sweat dripping down his forehead, tongue between his teeth. You even began to listen to the noises he made, the heavy grunts, the soft groans and grit of his jaw, his vulgar words at you when his eyes suddenly met yours making you look away with heat in your cheeks.

And then he would cum over your body.

You threw up after the first night only forcing it to stay on your body because he had said so. After that it became easier to withstand the feeling, the warmth, the smell. You realized after a few times it gave off a scent you had only attributed to him, you only knew that because he often stood so close to you. It was so mild and hidden that you could only tell when you brought some close to your nose, and since it was already there you tasted it and you figured his skin might taste like that too.

It was fine, until you finished the tour of District 2. The boy's face stared down at you, and you remembered how it looked covered in blood.

Please!

The crunch of bone.

You could barely get through the reading, crying halfway through before someone had to usher you to the side. Snow was angry; you could see it in his dark eyes but maybe he could find pity. You had been so kind, so good.

It didn't matter by the time he found you curled into the corner of my room you were covered in smeared make up and tears. You couldn't even take off the stupid pink dress they had given you. He stood there for a moment taking you in then he grabbed you by the hair yanking you up onto the bed. Then he reeled back and slapped you across the face so hard your head snapped to the side. "You were very bad today bluebell."

"I-I..."

Another slap the other way. "Don't stutter."

Your cheek was stinging, "I'm sorry." A pause, and then another hard slap stars split your vision. "I'm sorry Mr. President, sir." You closed your eyes waiting for more but then you heard the familiar noise of his pants unbuttoning and your body began to lay itself back like it had registered before you did. He only darkly chuckled as he pulled you back up and shoved you to your knees in front of him, "I know you didn't mean to break the rules. Right?” You nodded, “And why do I know that?”

"Because I'm your good girl, Mr. President, sir." You stared up at him with red cheeks and pouting lips.

He groaned, his hard length pressing against your mouth. You glanced up at him with furrowed brows not knowing how to do what he was asking. “Open your mouth,” You did. “Don’t bite. I'll do the rest." He pushed past your lips, taking ahold off your face and began rocking his hips into you, his cock sliding along your tongue. "Oh fuck," He shivered shoving himself deeper the tip of him touching the back of your throat. You swallowed the gag as he pulled out to slam back into you bring your throat more tears spilling out, spit running down your chin. You squeezed your eyes as he used your mouth for whatever he wanted as he thrusted his cock into your mouth viciously. "Swirl your tongue around it." He hissed and you obeyed running it along the shaft, around the head feeling him stutter his movements, but pick up speed. His hand was rooted in your scalp yanking your face up, pain bubbling up with each abusing stroke, but something else was there too, and you realized his skin didn't taste bad. "You like that? You like when I fuck your mouth?"

You mumbled out incoherently not even sure what your answer was.

He shoved your head back, neck craned against the mattress his hips pinning you as he blatantly fucked into your mouth. ”I wonder what pretty sounds you would make if I fucked you hmm?” His hand bobbed your head against him as you gripped his thighs to hold yourself up as saliva dripped across your chest. "I can't though...too many others want it."

Your eyes shot open just as his thrust turned sporadic and warm liquid shot down your throat. Your face was covered in fluids, covered in drool and cum, dribbling down your chin as he slowly removed himself. ”What?" Your throat was raw and torn.

"I was going to wait to tell you." He sighed tucking himself back in. "But you are very desirable as a Victor, and once you told me you were a virgin...well it made you a lot more desirable." He patted your tears and cum stained cheek, "But you have been so good to me despite this slip up, so I will try to pick someone you will like. Hmm?” You were too stunned to respond. He was selling you to people, selling you to the highest bidder because you had killed a boy. You weren’t even supposed to win everyone had let you know how the tribute from 10 was slated to win, but he got taken out while you were hiding, and they had lost money. Because your life was a bet for them.

"I want to go home." You cried softly his hand cradling your face.

He cocked his head to the side, "Oh bluebell. You can't leave me yet." He stood up and began to walk to the door, "I might just have to keep you."

He left you there on your knees. No he didn't quite taste bad, in fact, you thought maybe you enjoyed the pool of him on your tongue. You cried even harder.

PART TWO here!

(if you care)

[bambikisss]

Django :: J.Yunho

-> Cop! Yunho x Criminal! Reader

-> Django: ATEEZ

-> After the bounty on you is raised, Yunho is sent out to go looking for you. What happens when he actually does find you outside of a club?

-> Warnings: Use of nicknames (Slut, princess, baby), degradation, spanking, use of handcuffs, car sex, from the back, ROUGH, oral (both reciving), Outlaw Yunho (deserves his own warnings at this point)

A/N: I have returned! I've been excited for ATEEZ's outlaw release, so I immediately thought of cop Yunho with Django. Plus, I just saw a video of Yunho getting mad and I immediately knew I had to write something about him. You are also nicknamed Django in this as well

Not proofread | Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

"Officer Yunho! Hey!" The busy police office doesn't stop Wooyoung from calling him as he enters the office, sighing as he asks what he wants. He had just came back from booking a criminal who punched him in the jaw, so he wasn't in the mood for whatever Wooyoung wanted to gossip about.

Before Wooyoung could show Yunho the meme he found, the police captain enters the room, passing around a wanted poster that was freshly printed. "Alright everyone, all hands on deck! We finally got a good picture to put on the wanted poster of the robber who has been making rounds around the city. She needs to be captured as soon as possible! The citizens of this city are constantly complaining about us not finding her."

Yunho nods at the captain's words, remembering the old lady earlier who was lecturing him while he was putting someone in his backseat. His eyes look over the wanted poster, noticing the now high bounty on you.

WANTED: Y/N AKA Django.

10 thousand dollar bounty! He can't help but scoff, knowing no one would turn someone else in for such a low bounty. He has often told his captain that they needed to raise the amount to actually make the citizens care, but his words were brushed off. His words were always brushed off, despite being one of the top cops who brought in the criminals. As he was preparing to go out on patrol to avoid doing any office work, the captain stopped him, handing him a stack of the wanted posters, giving him the silent look to go put them up all around the city. Yunho didn't even try to object, sighing as he accepting the papers before leaving the office, not wanting anyone else to add to his work load.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "No, ma'am, I cannot arrest him for parking here. This parking spot is not yours as it's public parking." Yunho couldn't help but sigh as he tried to hold back his anger at the woman's yelling, wanting nothing more than to yell back at her. But, he couldn't do that, not when he had this job to help people, even if they were centimeters from his face yelling about something as small as a parking spot.

Once he was finally back in his car, he drove a good bit away so he could be alone for a bit. Even though it was a good bit past midnight, the calls were still rampant. In moments like theses, it often made him wonder why he chose this job. He tossed his head back to rest against the headrest, taking a deep breath to help calm himself before he his phone began to ring, vibrating the many wanted posters of the criminal he still hadn't posted around the city. He answered the phone, returning to his natural position as he listened to Wooyoung.

"I'm currently working on the program for our bodycams, so I'm just calling to let you know that they'll be done for a while. I suggest you get some sleep while you can." Yunho thanked him before hanging up, smiling at the idea of finally being able to be asleep. He'd have to thank Wooyoung later for giving him a heads up.

As he returned to his upright position, he noticed someone walking out of a club, the woman walking right past the cop car. He couldn't help but admire the woman, his eyes moving over her beautiful short dress and heels.

Maybe he could do something else besides sleeping for the time being.

"Excuse me!" he got out of his car, jogging to catch up with the woman. He hoped he wasn't scaring her as he knew how some people felt about the police suddenly approaching them, but he hoped his charms could keep her from feeling so scared. He jogged in front of the woman, smiling as she met his eyes. "Sorry for bothering you, miss, but I-"

Oh. My. God.

Yunho paused as he made eye contact with the woman, his mind going back to the many wanted pictures that sat in the passenger seat of his car. He watched as a slow smile crept onto your lips, realizing that you're Y/N.

He just caught Django.

"You're under arrest, Y/N. Or, could I say Django." You tilted your head as you watched him roughly grab his handcuffs from his belt, the metal glimmering in the moonlight as he roughly grabbed your arm. You mentally cursed yourself for not realizing the car you walked in front of was a cop car, let alone the man you stopped to talk to was a cop. You tried to move from his strong hands, but he only pulled you closer to him, handcuffing your hands behind your back before he moved closer to you, pressing his chest to your back as he said into your ear "finally caught you, bitch." You would usually beat someone up for calling you a bitch, but to hear Yunho say it with a deep voice, filled with anger made your body warm up and your panties dampen. You wouldn't lie; he was hot and if he wasn't pushing you to get into his car, you would've given yourself to him to have his way with you. You were dying to know what was underneath the tight cop clothes that only showed off his muscles, mentally moaning at his roughness as he shoved you into the backseat before slamming the door shut.

Yunho couldn't believe he had been the one to catch you, smirking as he thought about what he could do with that lousy prize money- while it wasn't a lot, it was could be enough for a trip somewhere, maybe even a cruise.

He quickly got into the front seat before he began driving, thinking about what to do with you now that he had you handcuffed in his backseat. He knew that if he brought you back to the precinct, he wouldn't get the credit he deserved, plus you had escaped before so he couldn't bring you there. He bit his lip before pulling over into a empty alleyway, deciding to call his captain to tell him the great news. He looked back at you in the rearview mirror, gasping lightly as he noticed your legs now spread, giving him a perfect view of your now wet lace panties as your head rested back against the headrest. The image of you like that made his mouth water and pants tighten, cursing softly as he ripped his eyes from you. He waited at the tone for his captain to answer before he cursed as his voicemail began to speak. The one time he actually wanted this man to answer the phone, he wasn't. Yunho sighed before cursing softly, remembering that his body cams were off.

Why would he wait for the other police to punish you when he could? You gasped as the backseat door was ripped open, Yunho's hand moving to roughly pull you from the backseat to your knees in front of him, your knees now resting against the wet alleyway ground as he looked down at you with angry eyes. "What the fuck are you-"

"Shut up, slut. I suggest you do as I say or I'll make sure you'll spend the rest of your life behind bars." You jumped at his rough voice, watching as he began to unbuckle his pants, pushing them down his thick thighs to show you his large cock, hard and standing at attention against his stomach. Your mouth couldn't help but water, leaning forward to get a taste before hissing as his hand moved to grip your hair, roughly pulling your hair back so you could see his face, his tongue poking his cheek as his eyes darkened. "No. Good girls get to taste this cock. I don't think I should even let you look at it, let alone taste it." You were about to speak, your words cut off my his hand moving from your hair to roughly grip your cheeks, growling as he heard you whimper at his rough movements. It only made his cock harder, twitching in front of you, making you moan.

"You want this cock, you're going to earn it. Tonight, you belong to me- you are mine. You will answer to me or I will stop and drop you off in the jail in an instant." You nodded at his rough voice, mentally moaning when you hear him chuckling before moving forward, pushing only the head of his cock into your mouth, tossing his head back as your tongue moved around to gather the precum eagerly. Yunho closed his eyes at the feeling of your warm tongue moving over the slit of his cock before he decided he had enough, tossing his head forward to watch as he pushed the rest of his cock into your mouth, going down your throat in a slow pace. He watched as your eyes watered due to his large size, his hips moving in a slow pace as he clicked his tongue, shaking head in disappointment before removing his cock from your mouth.

"You want me to take care of that wet pussy you were showing me earlier, right slut?" you nodded at his question, gasping as his hands forcefully opened your mouth before he roughly pushed his cock back down your throat. "Then hurry up and pleasure me. Show me what you're good for, slut."

You nodded, your fingers digging into your wrist as you began to move your head along his cock, moaning around his long, thick length. You met his eyes while you did so, making Yunho moan as you moaned around him again, making him toss his head back against the wall. You moved faster as he cursed softly, praising you in between his moans.

"There we go, slut, now you're showing me what you're good for, fuck!" His voice raised as his hips began to move, dragging his length all the way out of your mouth before slamming back down your throat, making you choke around his length at his hard pace. You couldn't help but moan at rough he was being with you, squeezing your own legs to offer yourself some pleasure as he continued to fuck your throat at a fast pace. You soon felt his cock twitch, letting you know that he was going to cum. Yunho showed no sign of slowing down, though, moving even faster before roughly stopping his hips against your face as his cum filled your throat, choking out a moan before he slowly pulling out of your mouth as you cough, a mixture of drool and cum dripping down your mouth as you did so.

Yunho smirked before his thumb moved across your skin, gathering the mixture before shoving it back into your mouth, humming as your tongue moved around it to gather the mixture. He felt his cock harden immediately, hooking his thumb into the side of your mouth before helping you stand, ushering you to get back into the car. You carefully crawled in, gasping as you felt his hand meet your ass roughly, surely going to leave a mark as the car door slammed closed behind him. You rested your head against the seat as you felt his hands move around your body, pushing up your already short dress up your waist before kissing around your ass and lower back, whispering praises as he did so.

"I think you earned a bit of a surprise, don't you, princess?" He asked against your lower back, his hands moving to pull down your panties in a slow pace. You nodded, your brain too fuzzy from him face fucking you to think clearly. Yunho smirked at your state before letting his fingers move along your wetness, chuckling as he listened to you mewl at the teasing feeling. "What if my other officers were on duty tonight and caught you walking in front of their car wearing this slutty little dress instead of me, huh? Would you let them get a taste of this pretty pussy like this, princess?" He chuckled as you let out an almost drunk sounding "no, only you!"

"Fuck, yes that feels so good!" You moaned loudly as his finger suddenly plunged into your wet heat, his tongue soon following while he tasted you, making you moan loudly. It seemed like everything about Yunho was big- his cock, his muscles, even his tongue and fingers were big as he ate you out, his fingers moving in you at a rapid pace. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch underneath himself, letting his fingers move from you to lubricate himself before pumping himself, moaning loudly into your wet cut. The sounds and noises you were making for him made him move his own hand faster along his cock, plunging his tongue deeper into you to capture more of your wetness. You tasted so fucking sweet to him, making him want more of you.

It almost made him mad that his bodycam was off- he wanted to be able to watch the footage back of him having you like this.

"C-cum, I'm going to-" Your whimpers were cut off with a noise of disappointment as Yunho immediately removed his tongue from your wet cunt at your words, making you whine louder before yelping as his hand laid another spank to your ass. Before you could ask what the fuck he was doing edging you like this, you gasped at the feeling of his cock slowly pushing it's way into your cunt. Yunho swore it felt better than heaven; the way it wrapped deliciously around his long, thick cock made him toss his head forward with a loud moan, spanking you again. "That's such a nice pussy, baby. Too bad I'm going to ruin it"

That was the only warning you got before he began to pound into you, rocking your body as his hips roughly met the plush of your ass. He grunted as his hands held onto your handcuffed hands for balance, driving his hard cock into you at a fast pace. He tossed his head back as you moaned loudly, the feeling your orgsam soon washing over you as you toss your own head back, coating his cock in your warm cum. You laid against the seat limp as all of your energy left your body, trying to catch your breath as you felt him slowly pull out of you with a wet pop. You winced at the wet sound, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep against the leather seats.

"Don't think I'm done with you, slut. This is your punishment."

You gasped as you felt Yunho pick you up, sitting himself down before having you hover over his hard cock. You whimpered as he slowly sunk you back down onto it, moaning as you noticed the bulge forming in your stomach from how big he was. Once you were fully seated on his cock, Yunho noticed how tried you were, clicking his tongue before slapping your ass, grunting out "you better get to riding slut or that jail is going to be where you're laying your head for the night" "It's hard to ride you with my hands behind my back" You moaned out harshly, letting your head rest back against the front seat as you tried to catch your breath. Yunho chuckled, before leaning forward to kiss your neck, leaving marks along your neck before pulling back from you, holding up the handcuffs that were around your wrists. "There. Now ride me."

You nodded at his demanding voice, placing your hands on his shoulders before bouncing along his cock at a fast pace, moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock grazing your G-spot. Yunho moaned before smashing his lips against yours, gripping your hips to help you move along his cock at a fast pace as the sound filled the car. He let his tongue move to meet yours as you moved faster, panting into the kiss at the feeling of him going so deep into you.

"Fuck, Y/N baby, if you keep riding me like this I'm gonna fill you up with my cum." he couldn't help but laugh breathlessly as he tossed his head forward to let his lips hover over yours as you bounced his hands gripping your breasts now to for leverage as he fucks up into you, saying "and if you make me cum hard enough, I'll let you fucking go. Yeah baby, ride me hard like that and I'll let you go free"

You let his words provide sudden motivation to you as you begin to ride him again, meeting his rough thrusts as you bounce, gripping his hair as you pressed your foreheads against each other, moaning loudly as the wet sounds become louder int he car, the car moving with the force of you two.

"That's it, Y/N, I'm going to cum! You better cum with me, let me fill you up with my fucking cum!" Yunho tossed his head back as he slammed your down on his cock, an almost animalistic moan leaving his mouth as he cums, roughly kissing you as you squeeze around him, both your cums now coating your thighs and his cock. You both panted into the kiss before he carefully helped you to lay back against the leather seat, slowly pulling out of you as your legs shook.

You let your eyes close as you heard the car door close before the car turn on, being too tired to do anything as you slowly fell asleep. You soon woke up to the sound of Yunho on the phone, fully dressed in his police uniform as he spoke to who you figured to be his captain. You fixed your dress as you felt a surge of nervousness fill your body, reaching for the car door, feeling surprised as the car door opens, showing you it was unlocked. As you slipped out from the backseat, you realized Yunho had brought you back to where he had originally found you. You turned to him as he held out his card, his number written on it before he said to whoever he was on the phone with "Did I find Django? Y/N? No, I didn't."

You caught him smirking at you as you accepted the card, smiling back at him as you exited the car, the last thing you hear him say before you close the door being "yes I will go patrol and look for her." You carefully closed the door as he drove away, looking down at the card he gave you with his number on it.

Call me, Django ;)

[luizd3ad]

You'll Be Fine | Poly!Moonwater x Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader x Remus Lupin WC: 430 CW: Slight talks of anxiety, talks of a bad day (not really tbh), no use of Y/N, kinda a comfort fic ig? Author's Note: Idk man this is my first time writing Moonwater so hopefully it’s good. Summary: Remus comes home to you napping on Regulus.

does anyone even like these? why do I keep making theses collage thing?

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

When Remus gets home from work he doesn't expect much. Usually you and Regulus would be home before him. Both of you would usually be reading books or talking just typical things that people do when they get home to unwind a bit. 

What he hadn't expected was to come home to what seemed to be an empty and quiet home.

To say he was confused when he walked into their flat would be an understatement, normally there would be some evidence that his partners were home. But there wasn't.  

He started looking around the flat in search of you or Regulus, but he couldn't find either of you. His anxiety started to get the best of him, what if something happened, were you two okay? He felt his mind start to go a mile a minute.

Eventually he made his way to the shared bedroom and he felt his anxiety die down significantly at the sight of you sleeping on Regulus' chest while his hand ran up and down your back with a book in the other hand.

It wasn't necessarily uncommon for Remus to come home to one or both of you to be napping but it was so rare that he didnt think about it.

Regulus looked up, putting his book on his side and then pressing his finger to his lips telling Remus to speak quietly to avoid waking you up. Only then did Remus notice your tear stained cheeks, Remus brows furrowed and he shot Regulus a look that asked ‘what the hell happened?’ Regulus just sighed and spoke quietly.

“They had a bad day, nothing too terrible but it was just one of those days.”

Remus just nods and he crawls into bed next to you so that you're in between both men. He turned so that he could look at you and Regulus better, putting his hand on your hip, rubbing his thumb gently over it. 

“Everythings okay though, yeah?” Remus wisped to regulus, a look of worry still on his face. 

“All things considered, yes.'' Regulus sighs looking away from Remus for a moment but Regulus never stopped rubbing your back, he wanted you to know even in your sleep he was there for you. “They'll be fine, mon cœur. They have us and we will always be there to make sure that everything is fine.” Regulus said, looking back at Remus, who just nodded. 

Remus knew as long as you had each other in your lives that you, Regulus and him would be okay. Sometimes that's all anyone could hope for.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

[nikachansstuff]

“I know I’m right, because I have a BA in English Literature.”

Yes, me too. And one in the way in Creative Writing. I can only imagine that a lot of people reading SJM work is in Eng Lit circle.

But you will not see me using my degree to reinforce my interpretation of a book. Because during college, you learn that your interpretation of a text is exactly that: only your interpretation, based mostly in your experiences and personal views. And everybody’s perception is equally as valid as yours, degree or no degree.

We learn to never assume what is the writer’s intention, cause guess what? That’s intentional fallacy. You will never know what are the intentions of the author, unless they tell you. You can only again, and I can’t express this enough, make assumptions based on your individual interpretation.

There’s a theses by Roland Barthes called “The death of the author.” Meaning, when you are evaluating/analyzing any piece of literature, you should forget the author and focus on the piece itself. The art itself is alive and tells a story on its own, and when the artist creates and gives it to the world, this beautiful thing is alive for us to take it and interpret as we all see it individually. The birth of a reader must be at the cost of the death of the author. We should not use the presumed intentions of an author to explain some ultimate meaning of a text (I’m looking at you, SJM’s Pinterest account from 2015 screenshot that circulates every couple of weeks)

So please, don’t use your degree as a certificate to weight your personal opinion of a text like is some universal truth. Specially in a book about fairies doing the nasty.

(If you read all this, thank you! Here’s a cookie and a hug)