#some people take a lot of pills in public at once

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Specifically the men :>

Characters: player 001 (in-ho), player 230 (thanos), and player 124 (nam gyu)

Warnings: squid game shit, gn reader, includes general head canons and relationship ones. Some are more toxic than others…. This is also to help understand the characterization I use for the characters in other fics lol

ᎮᏝᏗᎩᏋᏒ 001

- I have few appropriate things to say

- first off, we all know this man has money and thus I feel like he would have a large car collection that he just doesn’t get around to driving

- rarely able to get drunk. Not that he can drink, it just takes a lot to get drunk

- manipulative without even trying. Though he knows danm well what he’s doing it’s effortless for him.

- has no empathy. Or it’s complicated, he has empathy but it’s conditional. He can seem like cares but chances are it won’t last long, and wasn’t very genuine in the first place

- this is random but I think he is a morning person. Not just a normal morning person, a 4 am wake up person. A time he will likely not be bothered, a time he can take his time. Think about all the things he has to do. The planning, the hiding. He finally gets real time to think.

- CLEARLY obsessive. He be staring at gi hun like he want that cookie so damm bad. Season two squid game was built for him practically by in-ho. meticulously. 

- safe to say once he wants something he gets it.

- unfortunately he obviously sees the poor as less than. I think it would take a nearly impossible life changing event for that to change.

Relationship wise:

-evil.

- let’s be so real here, he is not the best choice. Very attractive and silly, but terrible as a person

- he says himself he knows he’s a likable fellow, he’s willing to use that. To worm his way right into your heart. Make you think “wow, how charming” or “man, he’s so kind”. He knows how to use his seemingly harmless nature to root himself in your mind

- will buy you anything. One of his ways of manipulating you. He will yell at you, prioritize his “work” over you, scare you… just to make it up by a luxurious trip where he is finally nice to you. And you think “maybe he’s changed. I’ll give him another chance”

- you don’t even realize how many times you’ve said that.

- it’s not like you have a choice to leave anyway. He’s possessive. If you were to leave him, he wouldn’t let you. If you manage to get away he’s finding you and dragging you back. He will have you until he can’t anymore, you do not have much of a say. He’s woven himself deeply in your life.

- has his people watch out for you and protect you. Has people Solve problems for you before you recognize there is one. And you never even know

- let’s you sit on his lap while he watches the games.

- you have no friends, rarely talk to family, your life is basically his. And you have to be okay with that (or not)

- all his workers know you and you have full access to whatever you like (as long as it’s not interfering or messing up anything he has planned

-he work would probably come before you. Not to say he doesn’t care…. Just he has weird priorities

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

- my dear thanos. Where do I begin

- clearly he has a drug problem. Serious pill addiction.

- goes into public absolutely GEEKIN off who knows what and insists no one can tell (they can)

- tried to be a plug but kept arguing abt prices with his clients so they stopped buying…

- as a famous rapper you know he has bitch AND hoes. A player who leaves a trail of broken hearts. Women and men bc I say so

- and also he just gives that vibe

- can’t manage money. Even when he wasn’t in debt bro cannot keep his dabloons in line. Drugs don’t help with that

- physically pretty strong. He can fight but it’s not like he’s gonna win every time

- actually really passionate about music. It truly means a lot to him and he worked for it. However over years he’s gotten frustrated with never having true privacy as a non celebrity would

Relationship wise:

- contrary to how I see people write him I personally think he wouldn’t be as mean in a relationship as some of the others

-and I think he would actually value you.

- I think he’d be pretty respectful with the ladies. He clearly appreciates a pretty girl.

- respectful might be a stretch. I mean verbally he wouldn’t like say crazy vulgar things. Nah he’d call you “flower” like that one girl or something

- he might be a bit rougher with the fellas out there. He’s pretty handy with his “bros” I’ll tell you that much.

- would write songs for and about you. They’d be cringe… in a nice way. Stupidest title and lyrics but hey! He made it just for you :3

- pre debt he’d definitely spoil you. Post losing all his money you’ll have to compromise. He sucks at telling you no so if you ask for something he might just steal it.

- people try to say he’d try to keep you from his drugs. I don’t think so. Realistically you’d probably end up doing some illegal substances with him

- might cheat in the early stages. Let’s be real. Those famous boys are almost never loyal. Butttt I think after he wouldn’t. Threaten to leave and he will see he really needs you

- never said he was perfect <3

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

- MY SHAYLAAAA. Idc so many ppl hate him. I know, he’s objectively terrible. However I don’t care I think he’s silly so there

- another addict. Honestly heavier than thanos. He’s tried nearly everything under the sun. However as shown in show, herion is his vice.

- he’s a shady night club worker so I’d say he could probably fight.

- I see him as an introvert 90% of the time u til he’s around a close friend. He seems like he has some sort of manners and keeps to himself until he met thanos. And even then he didn’t really talk (nicely) to anyone else besides min-su (sometimes)

- can clock a bitch like no other. Will read you to filth. Be prepared to gain new insecurities around him

- seems like a cat guy. I feel it in my soul he pets every stray cat ever.

- has jitters. Be it he’s anxious, thinking, happy, or withdrawling his hands are constantly on the move.

- laughs at nothing. Do not do anything amusing in the area if something even slightly serious is happening. He’s ruining the mood and will not stop giggling abt it after.

- he does the sweater paws. Not a head canon just a viable fact but it needs to be said. Yes I know he’s a grown man with a dick and balls but it’s very baby girl of him

- has quite the violent streak. Was probably the worst bully in highschool. I can smell the semester suspension radiating from him

- would do probably anything for some drugs. Like anything. He’s seen and done some shit.

Relationship wise

- MY SHAYLAAAA

-evil lowkey

- he’s definitely difficult because he’s always on some H and it actually can make you more aggressive.

- still cares though I swear it’s just harder for him

- touchy asf. Constantly playing with your hands, poking your face, touching your hair. Bro MUST touch.

- possessive and jealous type. Will lash out about it. Or just start being mean to the people you talk to.

- kinda about that life. Because he’s in the night club scene he has definitely witnessed some real gang shit. Maybe even participated

- will protect you if you’re walking out in the street.

- has moments at night where he’s genuinely calm and able to talk about normal things. Not worried about work, scared about money, itching from drugs. Just him and you.

- you’re his safe area. Shit goes wrong he comes to you. He had a bad day? He’s coming to you. Bad trip? He’s with you.

- will care for you if you are going through a bad trip too. Or just scared, he gets it.

- kinda toxic sorry not sorry

- clearly a selfish guy, wants what he wants and tries to take it. He manipulates with saying cruel things with an angles smile. Might yell at you, lash out, etc. probably wouldn’t hit you though

- but he cares. In his weird, clingy, mean for no reason but doesn’t mean it way. He will stick with you. You both will yell and scream and cry at each other but at the end of every day you lay in each others arms. Very much a “us against the world” type relationship.

Yeah that’s all. This should help elaborate on future things I will write mwah ha ha.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Prewar!Cooper Howard has a breeding kink because he loves being a dad. He and Barb married and started trying for kids later in life than most folks around them, so much of the sex they had, especially early on, was focused on getting Barb pregnant. If he'd had his way, they would have had a whole litter of children, but hey, sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want. Still, there's the fun of trying, and there was a lot of trying. After the divorce, he's shocked when he meets someone else, and even more shocked when he feels those same urges with you. He's been trained to try and knock one in basically every time, he jokes.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

He's also incredibly possessive, and it drives him wild to think about getting to see you all swollen and filled out with his child. Particularly with you being younger that him; the ugly part of his brain is barking at him to stake a more permanent claim on you every time a guy your age so much as looks your way. Personally, he thinks he's too old to have more kids, but between his secret urges, your forgetfulness when it comes to your pill, and your twin high sex drives, well...sometimes accidents happen.

He'd be over the moon, once he knew you were happy as well (he would also worry about the news potentially being hurtful to Barb, but that'd be an issue for tomorrow). Showing you off in public, knowing that other people see how gorgeous you are and know you fully belong to him, it really gets him going, and you certainly take notice of how amorous he is when you're out together (combined with how vigorously he fucks you when you get home). Thinks you're insanely sexy pregnant and likes to watch you ride him with a big belly. You'd both better be a lot more careful about your contraception after the first baby if you don't want another, because getting to see you that way only makes his kink worse.

The Ghoul has a breeding kink because he's incredibly possessive. It's been literal centuries since he's come across anything in this world that he cares for enough to want to claim it, and you're officially claimed. He wants everyone, including you, to know that you belong to him and only him. Other ghouls can smell him on you much more strongly if he cums inside you, and he enjoys the way filling you full scratches his most primal itch. It's just an added benefit that he's almost positive he can't actually get you pregnant, but...there are records of ghouls reproducing with other ghouls. Haven't stranger things happened?

The little thrill he gets at the idea is just nature trying to take over.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

You'd be hard-up to get him to admit it, but he wants you to need him. He wants an excuse to baby you and pamper you and force you to let him do things for you without the vulnerability of admitting that he wants to do those things for you anyway because he's deeply in love with you.

You complain that your feet hurt during your journey for the day? He'll carry you everywhere you want to go from now until the end of time, if that's what you want. Stomach and appetite troubles? Name whatever you want, he'll find it for you, no matter how many caps he has to pay. Tired? "Of course you're tired, sweetheart. Let's stop for today. Here, sit down. Do you need some water? Eat this, you need some calories. Let me rub your legs and feet for you." It is endless and sort of surreal for you to adjust to.

Speaking of journeys, I think he also secretly wants to settle down a bit. He does already after he meets and falls for you, seeing how much the constant trekking back and forth across the irradiated desert takes out of you, and he definitely would want to do so expeditiously if you were pregnant. It's not like secure places don't exist in this world. He can keep you, and anyone else who may come along, safe just fine.

He'd be afraid to fuck you if you were pregnant, worried that he'll hurt you or make you sick or make something bad happen with the pregnancy. But if you reassure him, maybe beg a little, he'll do his best to make sure your urges are satisfied. Sit on his face and let him slide his tongue through your insanely sensitive folds, lie back and let him fuck you with those agile fingers while he jerks himself off. You'll miss being properly penetrated, badly, but you won't go without.

He wants an excuse to be even more protective of you than usual. Give him a reason to literally pluck men's eyes out for daring to so much as look at you, a reason to never let you out of his sight ever again. If you thought he was ready to commit violence to keep you safe before, you haven't seen anything yet.

I can't imagine it would be easy to have a big family in the Wasteland, but reminding him how much he loves being a dad would certainly have the thought on his mind.

[chillian-murphy]

Experimental Treatment

SUMMARY: after numerous failed attempts to treat your anxiety, you enroll in an experimental drug trial run by Dr. Jonathan Crane (OR: how you became Dr. Crane's bimbo fuckslave)

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dub con, drugging, mention of anxiety disorders, bimboification, brainwashing kinda??, breast/nipple play, oral sex (m receiving), piv, Jonathan is manipulative and possibly a nevernude

beta'd by @pawnsong

You shifted nervously as you sat in Dr. Crane’s office for the first time. You’d tried numerous treatments for your trauma-related anxiety, but nothing seemed to work. It had been about a year since you had been beaten, tied up, and left for dead in a supply closet by one of Gotham’s many aspiring criminals, and you haven’t been able to eat, sleep, or generally care for yourself since. When you heard about an experimental treatment study happening at the local university, you enrolled as quickly as you could, moving faster than you’d ever moved in your life. You knew there was no one therapy or pill that could fix everything, but at this point, you were desperate for any sort of relief that could be offered.

The man that entered was much younger than you expected; you always pictured the doctor running a drug trial to be much older, maybe even a bit weathered from the stress of working in such a nightmarish city. Instead, he was small, slender, and had an almost angelic baby face.

“Tell me about what brings you here today.” He sat down without looking up from his chart.

“It should all be there, but to summarize: about a year ago I was assaulted and have been experiencing extreme anxiety, depression, and nightmares since. I can’t eat more than a few bites of food at a time without vomiting, and can’t remember the last time I’ve had a few night’s sleep. I’ve tried talk therapy and a slew of medications, including SSRIs, SNRIs, and benzodiazepines, but nothing seems to work.”

By this point, you’ve gone over your symptoms and previous treatments so many times that you had a well rehearsed script you relied on when recounting them. You worried that listing everything off in such a matter-of-fact way would lead people to think you’re just seeking drugs for recreational reasons, but fuck, what didn’t you worry about these days?

“As I’m sure you were told when you were applying for the trial, my background is in pharmacology and I’ll be putting you on an experimental drug of my own creation. I won’t bore you with the specifics of how it works, but you’ll receive a fast-acting injection once a week, and it should calm your nerves and improve your sleep. The exact effects aren’t well documented as of yet, which is why you’re here. All of the proper consent forms should be in order, so if you like, I can start you on the injections here and now.”

“Yes, please, whatever gets me my life back the soonest.” As nervous as you were to be injected with something you knew almost nothing about, part of you was almost giddy to be given something that might finally work.

“The drug can have some sedative effects, so no driving, at least for the first 24 hours. Do you have someone to pick you up? Family, a roommate? A boyfriend, perhaps?” Dr. Crane continued to inform as he prepared a syringe.

“I took public transport. Not a lot of people in my life.” you chuckled nervously.

“All alone. What a shame.”

Before you could mentally register his comment as odd, you were startled by the coldness of an alcohol wipe rubbing against your arm and the sharpness of a needle being inserted.

“You should start feeling the effects in about 5-10 minutes. I’m sending you home with a packet detailing what you should expect, as well as my phone number if anything unusual happens. It might be difficult, but I want you to take detailed notes on everything you experience, and we’ll review them when you come in for your next dosage.”

It proved a bit difficult to make your way home as the medication’s effects set in. Your body felt heavy and sleepy, and you had trouble concentrating; even reading the familiar train schedule felt impossible. Thankfully, some sort of muscle memory kicked in and you made it home safely, letting your brain turn off and follow your usual routine out of habit alone. The mindlessness felt weirdly comforting, you barely realized that you had moved from your spot on the subway until you were at your front door, fishing around for your keys in your bag.

The rest of the night went by pretty uneventfully, following your usual routine, with the addition of writing down your response to the medications in the journal included with Dr. Crane had provided you with. For the first night in as long as you could remember, you settled into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted the full night.

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

A week had passed since your initial meeting, and you were in Dr. Crane’s office again to go over how the medication had affected you and to receive your next dosage. You brought the journal you had taken notes in, although you were unsure how helpful it would be since you had mostly jotted down bullet points instead of writing down your experiences in-depth. It was the most you could do, since you were having trouble concentrating after you were dosed. Shit, that was another thing you should’ve written down.

The doctor entered quietly and greeted you with a tense smile, the kind of polite grimace you’d make upon accidentally making eye contact with a stranger in public. He motioned for you to hand over your journal of notes as he sat, and you passed it to him while trying to avoid looking at him as much as possible. He had never done anything to make you uncomfortable aside from being a bit terse, but he still gave you an uneasy feeling. 

“Let’s look at what you’ve written down. Your notes are brief, but at least they’re organized.”

Once again, terse. It was tempting to want to interrupt and explain how hard it was to focus on writing every little thing down when you kept forgetting where you were or what you were doing, often wandering into a room only to realize you couldn’t remember why you went there, but speaking up felt like too much trouble all of a sudden. After all, wasn’t Dr. Crane being soooo nice, offering to help you with your anxiety?

You had no idea where that thought came from. Weird.

“Grogginess, that’s to be expected, the drug was designed with sedative qualities. Forgetfulness, once again, not uncommon. Sleeping through the night? Good. Breast growth? I’d like you to elaborate.”

“I started getting my appetite back and gaining weight—“

“Weight gain is typical if you’re eating more regularly than you were before,” he interjected before you could finish. God, did he think you were fucking stupid?

“But I only seemed to gain weight around my breasts and hips.”

“Are you saying you’d rather have a double chin and beer belly?”

“Well, no…”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”

“I can’t fit into any of my old bras. Bras are expensive.” It really felt like talking to a brick wall.

“Understood.” He scribbled a few quick notes before looking back up at you. “Is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” Relief sank in when you realized this meant that your meeting was wrapping up.

“Then I’ll give you your next dose and let you go. Please continue to take notes, even if they are brief. Any information you can give me is immeasurably helpful.” He gave you what must’ve been his version of a reassuring smile, tight and forced, before motioning for you to roll up your sleeve and receive your next shot. A cold jab in the arm was administered, and you were on your way.

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

The next week passed largely without note, the intense brain fog from the first dosage had lessened into a sort of ditzy forgetfulness, which was still inconvenient but easier to live with. You misplaced things, forgot what you were doing, and lost track of time regularly, but somehow it all seemed easier to just laugh off. Had it not been for a reminder on your phone, you probably would’ve forgotten all about your weekly meeting with Dr. Crane.

The usual unease you felt around him was gone; you were almost looking forward to talking to him. He was the only one you could really talk to about everything that had happened since starting the trial, and how good you’ve been feeling, how your racing thoughts have slowed, and how sometimes you didn’t seem to think at all. It was a relief you never knew existed.

You were so caught up in thinking about not thinking that you hadn’t noticed Dr. Crane entering, sitting down, or speaking to you until he cleared his throat impatiently.

“I said, do you have your notes from this week?”

“Oh, right, here.” You casually tossed over your journal, even though your notes were even more scant than the first week. You had written just three things: 

boobs keep growing

really sensitive

really horny!!

thoughts not happening

“This is the second time you’ve mentioned your breasts.” It didn’t take long for Dr. Crane to skim your brief notes. “Would you mind showing them to me?”

Despite his relaxed posture, his stare felt about a thousand times more intense as you squirmed in your seat.

“That feels inappropriate.”

“I’m a medical professional. I assure you, I’m only trying to verify what you’ve reported.”

Cautiously, you pulled the front of your top down, exposing yourself to him. To your surprise, doing this didn’t make you feel nervous or vulnerable, despite always feeling rather timid about being seen naked in the past. Showing off for the doctor felt weirdly <i>right</i>, like the best thing you could do in any situation would be to do what he says.

He scooted forward on his wheeled office chair, leaning in to examine you closer, never losing the icily neutral look on his face. It’s not that you wanted him to leer, but something, anything other than stony professionalism would’ve gone a long way, especially as he reached out to touch you.

“You’ve gone up… two, maybe three cup sizes? Have you taken any measurements?” He cupped your round, heavy breast lightly, as if to evaluate it. His hand was surprisingly warm, you always assumed that his cold personality would extend to his touch, and that being handled by him would be like being prodded by a metal instrument.

“I dunno… enough that men have started being nicer to me.” Measuring hadn’t even occurred to you. A lot of things stopped occurring to you. It was so much easier just letting yourself not think.

“And you said they’re sensitive.” Gentle cupping had turned into squeezing, firm enough to make you aware of just how strong his hands are. You wanted to moan and lean into his touch, but you didn’t want to make things any more awkward than they already were.

“Yes” you squeaked out. “Really sensitive.”

“You also wrote down that you were, in your own words, really horny. Now, I’m going to need some elaboration, is that an increase in sex drive, or more like constant arousal? I need you to be as descriptive as possible.” He rolled your nipple between his fingers before turning his attention to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

“It’s both. I’m just… always horny, and I come so much harder now. Sometimes I sneak off during work to rub myself in the bathroom. I can’t help it, it just feels so good, so much better than it did before.” You knew it was for the study, but telling him this much, especially while he touched you like this, felt… weird, like it shouldn’t be happening. But you didn’t want it to stop.

“Are you aroused right now?” If your brain wasn’t clouded by how much you were turned on, you would notice the subtle smirk on his face. Instead, you just nodded eagerly.

“Now, I’ll have to stop touching you so I can write all this down. You’ve given me some crucial information, and as a thank you, you’re welcome to grind against my shoe and get yourself off while I record everything you just told me.” He casually extended his leg as an invitation.

You dropped to your knees promptly, bare breasts bouncing with every movement, and stared up at him dumbly as you straddled his foot. He barely glanced at you while he jotted notes down, even as you rubbed yourself against the shiny black leather of his shoe. It didn’t take long at all for you to climax, and when your orgasm hit you, it hit you so hard that it was honest-to-god disorienting. It took you a moment to remember where you were as you shuddered and fell backwards to the floor.

This was enough to finally get Dr. Crane’s attention. You stared back up at him with big, doe eyes as you finally realized how bizarre and even <i>wrong</i> it was for a doctor to grope you and encourage you to masturbate in front of him.

“Good girl. Cover yourself and let me give you your next dose.”

The faint bit of praise sent shocks down your spine as you pulled your top back over your breasts and climbed back into your seat, and the way Dr. Crane touched you as he administered the injection felt gentler than usual, almost tender. As soon as the drug entered your bloodstream, any apprehension you had about what just happened quickly disappeared.

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

“These… aren’t notes in any way, shape or form.” Dr. Crane rubbed his temples in frustration as he looked at the page of doodles you handed him, mostly hearts, stars, and smiley faces.

“I couldn’t think of anything to write. I thought I would make it pretty instead.” you shrugged as you sat with your legs folded in a criss-cross on the couch in his office, not noticing or caring that the position hiked up your already short skirt in a way that revealed your lacy panties. It was true, you couldn’t remember a single thought, new effect, or even what you did from day to day over the past week.

“If you can’t record and report how the drugs are affecting you, you won’t be of any use to the trial and we’ll have to take you off the drug.” he chided, as if explaining himself to a small child. “Because right now, you’re just wasting my time.”

“But I like the drug! I feel better!” you whined, rocking back and forth and pouting for emphasis. “I’ll be good. I promise. Just tell me what to do.”

“Can you tell me anything? Anything at all?” His tone was becoming more condescending, to the point where it got through to even your druggy little brain. He stared at you, daring you to say something, but all you could do was stare back at him dumbly. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’ll have the nurses prepare the outtake forms. I wish you could have been more useful to me.” He spoke curtly as he stood and gathered his belongings, not even dignifying you with eye contact. You were nothing but a broken tool to be discarded.

“But I need this!” You desperately attempted to stand and follow him as he left, but were unable to unfold your legs and spilled on the floor, catching the leg of his pants and staring back up at him with big, pleading eyes.

You were desperate, you were pathetic, you were suddenly useful again.

“I’m surprised you’re this determined to stay in the trial. I suppose we do have one last option: since you’re unable to record your own data, I will have to watch you and take notes myself. I have a spare room in my apartment that you can move into, which should be more comfortable than being committed to the hospital and allow me more access to observe you. Is that something you would consent to?”

You nodded eagerly, although you’d agree to anything as long as it meant not going back to the anxious, overthinking mess of a person that you were before. It was so much simpler being simple.

“I’m taking a big risk on you. I need you to do something for me, to show you’re serious about wanting to continue with the trial.” He gestured towards the growing bulge in his pants, which was mere inches from your face. You stared silently, not sure he was inferring, but your mouth instinctively watered and dropped open when he nudged your head towards his clothed dick.

You pawed at his tented trousers until he got impatient and undid the zipper himself and freed his erection from his boxer briefs, and you quickly got to work bobbing your head over his length, lavishing the head with your tongue. Your eyes watered as you pushed as much of his cock down your throat as you could, making yourself gag lightly but never enough to deter you. You didn’t care that drool was dribbling down your chin, Dr. Crane’s cock was all that mattered.

He grasped a fistful of your hair, reinforcing the rhythm of your movements, and shoving you further down on his cock. No matter how visibly uncomfortable you were, you never pushed back or struggled, you just accepted your place as a living fucktoy. Mascara was running down your cheeks and your skin was flushed and glassy with sweat, almost looking like the plasticky sheen of a blow-up doll.

Dr. Crane grunted as he came in spurts down your throat, still tender from the rough treatment. You didn’t waste a single drop of what he gave you, and ran your tongue over his slit to collect any remaining seed. Once you swallowed everything, you wiped the saliva from your face and smiled up at him sweetly.

“Can we go home now?”

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

You had lost count of how many days it had been since Dr. Crane brought you home, in fact, most of your life outside of the past few weeks had been something of a blur. It didn’t matter, though, as being his pretty little pet didn’t require you to think much. You spent most of your days lounging about, watching porn, staring out the window, or oohing and aahing over the pretty clothes he brought home for you. It took him a while to settle on a style when he replaced your wardrobe, dressing you in everything from latex minidresses to 1950s housewife apparel, but eventually found that he favored soft, feminine babydolls in light colors like pink and white.

You were admiring the ruffled hem of the slip you were wearing when you heard him unlocking the door to his apartment, and you immediately rushed over to greet him. Seeing him was the best part of your day, and you couldn’t wait to sit in his lap and talk to him about your busy day of watching yourself edge in front of the mirror.

It had become something of a routine, he would settle into his favorite recliner after coming home from work, and you’d straddle him with your breasts in his face while he felt you up and vented about whatever was bothering him. His job at the university was soooo stressful, apparently conducting experiments on unwitting students is “frowned upon,” whatever that meant. You were always happy to make him feel better.

“…and the dean can’t even appreciate the validity of my work. Opening up the skull of a live subject is the most reliable way to observe changes in the brain, regardless of whether or not the ethics board likes it.” You had no idea what he was even talking about, but you did your best to seem sympathetic, hugging his neck and pulling his head into your chest.

“My day was hard, too. My vibrator stopped working and I had to rub myself by hand.”

“Did you try changing the batteries?”

You thought about what he said for a few seconds and fell into a fit of giggles.

“Duh! Batteries go in the vibrator! You’re so smart, you always think of the best things.”

“That’s why I do all the thinking in the relationship. You just look pretty and keep your holes ready.” He frowned at you in faux concern, as if you were capable of having thoughts of your own.

“I do keep my holes ready!” You bounced excitedly in his lap. You were so, so good at having holes and keeping them ready. Dr. Crane even told you so.

“Wanna show me how nice and ready they are?" his hands skimmed over your body, from the top of your waist down to your thighs and then around back to your ass, which he squeezed firmly, making you gasp softly. You raised the hem of your slip and pulled your panties to the side, revealing your pussy, which was wet from edging all day. You were never allowed to let yourself come while he was gone, that was a special privilege that only he was allowed to give you.

“Beautiful. And your ass?”

You rose from his lap, turned around, and bent over to show him the plug you’ve had in for the past hour.

“I started with the small one and put the bigger one in when you texted me, just like you asked." The plugs always felt weird and you didn't like the bigger ones, but if Dr. Crane wanted you to wear them, then obviously there was a good reason. He’s so handsome and smart, you’d do anything he said.

“Good girl." His praise made your heart sing as he fucked the toy in and out of you. He knew anal play frustrated you, and it was so cute to watch as you tried not to squirm as the bulbous plug disappeared in your ass. Maybe he’d lock your pussy away in a chastity belt and make you masturbate anally all day instead of your usual edging.

Dr. Crane could hardly believe how much his little experiment had changed you. When he started the trial, it was mainly to indulge his curiosity about how the antidote to his fear toxin would affect people with no fear toxin exposure, and most of the other participants reacted to it the same way they would to any other common anxiolytic, save for one particularly unfortunate person who had their fear response reduced so drastically that they walked into oncoming traffic without realizing it was dangerous. But you? You turned into the perfect fuckdoll: always aroused, eager to please, and too oblivious to notice the strange hours he kept as both a professor and as Scarecrow.

Of course, there were some down sides: he had hoped to mold you into something of a stepford wife, not only taking care of his needs in the bedroom but other domestic duties as well. Yet after your third time nearly setting the kitchen on fire while trying to cook a simple meal, he had to accept that you had simply become too airheaded to trust with anything but sex.

“Can we fuck now? My pussy needs you." You whined, interrupting the train of thought that had pulled Dr. Crane’s focus away from you.

“Good girls don't whine like that, sweetheart. I could fuck you, but for that I think I’ll make you wait until after dinner.” He chided. You were so much fun to toy with when you got desperate.

"But I am a good girl! Let me show you.” You pouted and begged.

“If you’re an extra good girl, you’ll be quiet while I’m cooking dinner and then we can fuck.” His tone was equal parts syrupy and condescending, “if not, you can spend the rest of the night gagged and locked in your cage. The choice is yours.”

Not wanting to spend the night locked in a dog crate, you crossed your arms and sulked, but nevertheless obeyed as you sunk into the couch. Your needy little pussy was aching, but you had to be a good girl for Dr. Crane. Even if it was mean and bad and unfair and… Oh? There’s a plate being placed in front of you, dinner must be ready already.

As soon as Dr. Crane sat down beside you, you snuggled into his side. Physical affection wasn’t something he was used to before bringing you home, and it took him some time to come around to it, but now he was actually starting to enjoy the amount of cuddles and kisses you desired from him. Spooning on the couch while trying to eat wasn’t the most practical thing in the world, although you were determined to find a way to bury your face in his chest while also stuffing it with mashed potatoes.

“Someone’s needy tonight,” he teased as he stroked your hair.

You just hummed contentedly and nuzzled your face into his neck. He was warm and smelled nice, like everything in the apartment. The one time you tried opening the window, it smelled like rot and gasoline, and made you sad and scared as it filled your head with vague memories of your old life.

Dinner passed comfortably and quietly, even as you squirmed to find a position that let you eat and snuggle at the same time. Dr. Crane’s attention was largely on the nightly news playing on the television, nodding along with the crime report. The news was mostly boring to you, except for that one weird time that a woman who looked like you and had your name was reported missing. Dr. Crane told you not to worry about it, though, so you didn’t.

“I’d say you’ve been a very good girl this evening,” Dr. Crane shifted to face you. “Would you like to join me in the bedroom?”

“What’s in the bedroom?” You stared blankly.

“Sex, sweetheart. I’m asking you if you would like to have sex.” Dr. Crane rubbed his temples. Perhaps drugging your brains out but leaving you just smart enough to talk was a mistake.

Sex! Sex was exactly what you wanted! Sex was what you dreamed about all day, edging your pussy and thinking of Dr. Crane. Your face lit up, which he took as a sign to lead you to the bedroom.

As you approached the bed, he toyed with the strap of your chemise, gliding it off your shoulder so it hung suggestively.

“I want this off.” His voice was soft, but his unblinking gazes held all the authority in the world over you.

“Yes, sir.” You made quick work of the garment, pulling it over your head and flinging it to the floor.

“Panties, too.”

Those silently slid off next, leaving you completely nude while he remained fully clothed.

Dr. Crane’s breath stilled for a moment as he took in the sight in front of him. It only took a few weeks of being dosed for your body to reshape into a bouncy hourglass, with full breasts, a slim, defined waist, and a round ass with thighs to match. A soft, trimmed patch of hair adorned your pussy, just above the lips, with everything else kept bare. Occasionally you’d have your pubic hair waxed into a heart, which he found ridiculous, but was easy enough to overlook if it kept you happy.

Once he was done drinking in the sight of your body, he gently shoved you onto the bed and guided your legs open, settling in between. His hand made its way to your eager little pussy, spreading the lips and pressing inside, making you shudder in pleasure.

“Have you been this wet for me all day, baby?” His voice now a low rasp, thick with desire.

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed in affirmation, too lost in the sensation to form words.

“God, you’re good for me.” He growled as he dived on top of you, kissing your neck and fondling your breasts. You couldn’t help but moan when he rolled your nipple between his fingers, tugging lightly. You were always responsive, but especially when he played with your tits.

He trailed soft bites down from your neck to your nipples, gently nipping at any skin he could grasp between his teeth. Once he got to your chest, he got more aggressive, sinking his teeth into you until you whimpered in pain. Your breasts were his favorite. He had never given much thought to the “tits or ass?” question before, but now that he could come home to a soft, inviting pair to play with and suck, he knew where his preference lied.

Feeling satisfied that your nipples were now swollen and pink from both arousal and abuse, Dr. Crane removed himself from on top of you to once again admire your needy body and tease your cunt. Even when he was just fucking you with his fingers, you moaned and rolled your hips as if it was the best thing you’ve ever felt. Some nights it could drag on for hours, he would stimulate you with just his hands or a toy only to withdraw before you could climax, giving pleasure and taking it away over and over to see just how desperate he could make you. It was no secret that Dr. Crane was a sadist, and watching you squirm, cry, and beg was almost as good to him as coming inside of you.

Tonight was different, though, he wanted to fuck. He pulled his fingers out of you and freed himself from his trousers and underwear, making a show of rubbing his cock with the wet essence covering his fingers as he lined himself up with your tight, eager hole. He pushed himself in slowly, savoring how hot and slick you felt around him.

Your life revolved around his cock. If you weren’t sucking on it or being filled by it, you were fantasizing about the next time you would have it inside of you. And now that you were being given exactly what you were craving, you couldn't get enough, grinding back against Dr. Crane every time his hips met yours.

No longer satisfied with the languid pace he had set earlier, Dr. Crane pulled back slightly, helping to lift your hips and push your legs towards your chest, essentially folding you in half so he could penetrate you deeper and harder. His new rhythm was merciless as his fingers dug into your thighs, pistoning his hips and fucking you like his life depended on it. Whatever frustration he felt with his job, his colleagues, and his extracurricular activities, he was now taking out on your pussy and all you could do was grip the sheets and take it. 

Between the powerless feeling reinforced by his rough treatment and the way his cock was hitting your g-spot, you couldn't help but let your eyes roll back in ecstasy. You were fulfilling your ultimate purpose as Dr. Crane’s pet: a pretty toy to play with and look at, and an inviting set of holes to fuck. You could come from the thought alone if you were allowed to orgasm without permission. You met each of his thrusts with short, staccato moans as you arched your back beneath him, sticking out your chest as your breasts bounced with every hammering movement.

Dr. Crane’s breath grew ragged as he approached his own climax, and his motions changed from a fluid rhythm to jerky, rough thrusts.

“Play with your clit. Come for me."

Finally given the permission you’ve been needing all evening, you began rubbing yourself vigorously as he continued ramming his cock into you. It didn't take much to push you over the edge, and as your orgasm hit, you moaned so loud and luridly that it would make most seasoned pornographers blush.

Dr. Crane wasn't nearly as noisy as he joined you in orgasmic bliss, panting heavily as he filled you with his seed. Once he found himself thoroughly drained, he collapsed next to you and silently attempted to catch his breath as you rolled over and snuggled up to his chest.

“Let's go again!" you excitedly chirped while reaching for his softened cock.

“Later, sweetheart, I need to rest.” He had no idea how you recovered so quickly. "Why don't you play with yourself while you're full of my come? I know you like that.”

"It's not the same,” you begged. "I need your cock.”

"How about this,” Dr. Crane's clinical doctor voice was back. "You can warm my cock in your mouth while I grade papers, and once I'm good and ready, I’ll fuck your throat while you ride one of your dildos.”

You made a happy little squeal as you smiled and hugged him tightly. He took such good care of you, keeping you so well-fucked. You had everything you could ever want: you were safe, you were loved, you were happy. And all you had to do was let your brain be turned into cotton candy.

[strawberryblue-blog]

nsfw alphabet w Marc Guiu please 🙏🏼

A to Z —Marc Guiu.

summary: NSFW alphabet with Marc. warnings: YES. +18. smut, headcanon. words count: +850.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

He will probably be quite concerned. He'll want to know if you're feeling okay, if you need anything, if you're in pain or he might even help you clean yourself up.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

In him maybe it's his back and abs, he works hard to maintain them and thinks it's something attractive about him. On you, he loves your smile madly and the way it never disappears from your face.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

Since you are already in a steady relationship, he will definitely come inside you (with birth control methods like the pill or IUD).

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

Maybe he has a little (healthy) obsession to dominate, he likes to be in control of the whole situation, to punish you, to insult you (only sexually) and something like that. All as long as you accept and he doesn't hurt you, of course.

E - experience (experience in sex)

He has a lot of experience, he may have acquired it over time or maybe he got it from porn or research.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

Missionary with your legs over your chest to enhance the experience.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

He's pretty playful. Anything that pushes you over the edge and you can't take it anymore, he likes to tease (in a good way), etc.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

He likes to have some, because he doesn't shave it often. He doesn't care about you at all but he know that you always try to keep it clean and free.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

It can get a little rough and wild, definitely the best sex with Marc.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

Once or twice a week, in the shower maybe or in the morning when he wakes up very aroused but nothing more.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Saying dirty, dirty things to you. Using dirty nicknames on you, taking your face and saying them to your face, hitting your ass, even boobs.

L - location (places to have sex)

Anywhere. No problem with doing it outside the house, in the kitchen, in the car, in a hotel, in the yard, in a public restroom. Anywhere.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

When you sit on his legs or rest your body on his body, spooning type. Definitely feeling your ass on his crotch would turn him on right away.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

No to sharing you. Man or woman doesn't care. He couldn't see you with someone else.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He prefers to receive. Blowjobs turn him on so much, if you blow him then he'll fuck you as a reward until you can't walk.

P - pace (how does he like to do it?)

Hard, deep and fast. He's an animal, he may come too fast but it won't take him long to come again and again.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

Yes. They don't bother him, in fact they tend to turn him on and help him to lower the tension.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

Any risks. He wouldn't mind getting caught, it's not a bad thing. It shouldn't be embarrassing as long as they never disrespect other people.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

He can last too long even until he sees you in tears (of pleasure). He could do it multiple times, fingers, mouth, cock, friction, etc.

T - toy (use toys)

Sometime or other he has used ties, blindfolds and handcuffs. For now that's all he has in mind but he would like to experience more things.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Very much, he likes to provoke you. Kissing your nipples for hours while you squirm under him and beg him to touch you.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

He is loud. Because he likes to talk he is usually a bit loud with his moans, gasps and words.

W - wild card (small random story)

The drive home was getting quite long as they were returning home after a dinner with Marc's mates. You were new to the city and you were still amazed at how nice London was but at this hour it was always chaos and right now you were stuck in traffic as the dark night surrounded you.

Marc's hand was on one thigh as your gaze was intent on the lights of the city. A squeeze on your leg made you turn your head.

A flirtatious smile appeared on Marc's lips and you narrowed your eyes.

"No, Marc" you said as you noticed his intentions in his bright eyes. His fingers began to knead your skin, giving tiny little touches beginning to feel your system warm up.

"Shhh" he murmured moving closer towards your neck and kissing your shoulder a little and then your neck. Your body bristled as you felt his wet lips begin to suck on your exposed skin as a gasp escaped from your side.

"We can't, baby" you stammered as his legs hid in your skirt and caressed your center.

"Just let me do it, you enjoy" he whispers into your lobe before licking it.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?)

Big. Very big. Maybe that's why he's so sure of himself because he knows what he has and he also knows how to use it very well.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?)

His appetite is usually very high but sometimes he needs some love and he understands that not everything is sex.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

Due to all the adrenaline of the moment it takes him a while to fall asleep but then he is a rock and in the morning it will be hard to wake him up.

[cinnamonest]

gaahhhh imagine gf reader trying to calm delinquent childe and get him to NOT traumatize and scar new boys coming to their school or later when in college when they need to interact with others more by being as nice and sweet as possible and giving him want he wants (attention, pussy and love). And they almost get like this bartering system and it doesn't help when childe slowly gets a hint that she might be trying to protect these guys- in which case, comes the step of trying to placate him again and convince him this is for his sake and not theirs after getting her own ass beaten by him and fucked to the point she thinks of amping the Pill intake or smthng

(Follow-up to this post)

I’ve been thinking about that AU again for a while, hear me out

Because, see, once you become “official,” he somehow gets worse, something you wouldn’t have even thought possible.

Your life doesn't actually change that much, it’s more that his presence just becomes so utterly and completely inescapable. You used to at least be able to retreat to the comfort of home after school, now you don’t even have that — he’s either forcing his way into your house or dragging you back to his, depending on which has the parents gone, so you can do stuff… or if neither works, he’ll drive you off to some of the nearby abandoned, empty parking lots instead.

He's very vocal about what he now perceives as an “official” relationship. Very touchy in public, even in a school setting. His actual behaviors don't change much — he still steals your things and dangles them over your head, startles you with loud noises, taunts you and humiliates you at every opportunity… now he just does it with extra enthusiasm, like it makes him even more excited than it did before. And you like it, he knows you do. And at this point you've given up on getting the cigarette stench out of everything you own — your clothes, your bed, your car, even your hair. Ugh.

But he becomes so very on-edge, far more aggressive than ever before towards the rest of the male student populace. He’s definitely got a major cheating paranoia, like so many young guys, where he’s so ready to jump to that conclusion over everything. You didn’t respond to him for a while, what were you doing? Why are you smiling at your phone, who are you talking to?

Before, he was a source of frustration and anger and misery, but you never really felt scared the way he often makes you feel now. He was mean, a bully, but he was smiley and clearly deriving amusement from it — a contrast to the sudden serious glare and cold, dark tone and expression when he gets mad, when he grabs you so hard you can’t pull away and demands a minute-by-minute play of the day for the duration of time he couldn’t be glued to your side. It takes an alarming amount of reassurance to calm him down.

You do essentially end up bartering with sex. If you’re lucky, and he’s not too upset, you can just distract him from whatever is making him mad with kisses and smiles and a few reassuring words. But in most cases, you’ll at least have to take your clothes off to really appease him and calm him down, and usually have to spend the rest of the day giving him your completely undivided attention. Giving him lots of cuddles and kisses and pussy and head and affection and all that, just for him, to prove you really only care about him, no interruptions. Even answering texts from your friends and family will have him scowling and sulking again. Why are they more important to you than he is? Do you really even care about him at all, when you’re so easily distracted?

And oh, the moment you try and defend some poor boy, have the audacity to try and get him to not hurt someone, it’s over for you. Nothing sets him off faster.

Rather, it comes in stages — he gets mad, hauls you off somewhere alone if you’re in front of people, holds you by the jaw as you struggle and writhe and asks in some mixture of bewilderment and frustration why you’re doing that. Why would you be upset that he’s protecting you? Why are you mad at him for beating them up? Do you care about them? If you don’t like them, why concern yourself with what happens to them?

If you keep reassuring him, he’ll calm down, but if you keep insisting that he can’t be violent, he gets whiny, petulant, grumbly… and most importantly, he just ignores you and does what he wants anyway. Even if it upsets you, it’s not like that's going to stop him. He just blows off anything you say, completely inconsiderate of your feelings on things.

Even then, sometimes, the situation gets bad. Times where you can’t just calm him down, because you did something exceptionally bad — you fell asleep and didn’t answer him for hours, or you very clearly talked to that guy, he knows, he heard the whole thing, or someone told him (at this point, some of the other students have started telling him they saw you talking to someone or hugging some guy or something to set him off for their own amusement).

Those incidents are the worst — late-night explosive episodes where you’re interrogated on why you spoke with someone or the texts on your phone, as you flail and whimper and claw at the hand on your neck while you desperately try to defend yourself. Those are the times where you genuinely start to feel scared. But even then, with enough effort and appeasing and sex, it’s resolvable... though you may end up with some bruises across your body, or in a few cases, your neck and face... you can just both skip school and stay in bed all day until it's gone. Other people would get the wrong idea if they saw it, they wouldn't understand. As long as you comply with what he wants, it's easily resolved.

Until, one day, you cross a line.

You're just so sick of it all, deep into yet another long argument over him really badly hurting some poor kid who did nothing wrong, and in the frustration of the moment, the words come out of your mouth.

You say you’re leaving him. That you want to break up.

You regret your words, of course, the second they leave your mouth. Even before you see the stages of reaction play out on his face — a second or two of blinking in dumbfounded, blank shock, and the way his expression turns dark — you feel your gut twist in panic.

And you try to sputter out some apology, to backtrack, to say you didn’t mean it, but your feet have already left the ground, you’re already flailing and grasping at the hand wrapped around your throat and hoisting you into the air, before you can even get a full sentence out.

You don’t get to do that to me.

His grip gets tighter with those words. It’s quiet and cold — you’re pretty sure it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him speak quietly, for that matter, but you're too preoccupied with panic to reflect on that.

But you don’t mean it. He knows that. You just said something stupid because you wanted to make him mad. You just wanted to get his attention. You’re being manipulative, trying to control him with threats. You’re being a really bad girlfriend.

You don’t mean it. You’re not being serious. You just said it to get a reaction.

Right?

And see, you nod so vigorously, and you even have tears streaming down your face as you choke and gag. You must feel guilty for saying something so mean. Everyone says things they regret in arguments, right? Just the heat of the moment makes people say stupid things. But as long as you feel guilty, he can forgive you.

You crumple forward on shaky legs when you’re dropped down, more of less falling into him, hands grasping at his shirt — how cute, you’re trying to get reassurance now. You stiffen and shiver at the embrace you’re enveloped by, the arms that wrap around your frame.

...You know, you'll need to figure out something for your neck. It’s already starting to bruise, and it’s very clearly marks from fingers wrapped around… you’ll have to cover it up, you wouldn’t want your parents thinking he’s a bad person or anything.

But’s okay. He’s mature enough to forgive you and move on. And so long as you give him more attention and makeup sex all night, he’ll pretend it didn’t happen… for his own sake too. Just never ever ever say something like that again, and he won't hurt you... not too badly, at least.

[mysticqueer]

an invitation (thanos x reader) Pt 1/3

A softer take on Thanos.

TW: depression, drugs, reader is going through some shit

Despite what some might think, working at Seoul's most exclusive nightclub wasn't always the best job around.

Sure, the nights were usually exciting—to say the least—and the customers always tipped well. But it also meant seeing the darker sides of the rich and famous clientele that frequented the space. You couldn't count how many idols—so beloved by their fans—turned into complete assholes the second they left the public eye. More than once you'd had to call a taxi for those idols after finding them passed out in their own puke. You'd occasionally thought about how much you could get for just one picture sold to the right tabloid. But you never gave in. This was the place that celebrities came to avoid the never ending spotlight.

Still, the job was good. It paid well, even without the tips. You got the opportunity to serve some of Seoul's greatest, and you had no shortage of crazy memories that would last you long into your old age.

But being a female bartender in any establishment came with its own dangers and annoyances. And the most prominent of those annoyances for you personally came with a name- Thanos.

At first, you weren't quite sure how exactly he'd gained entry. You'd heard of him before, but being a semi-successful rapper didn't get him on the same wealth level as your usual customers. You figured he must have known somebody important to get in. And he frequented your bar as consistently as he painted his nails.

The first time you met him, he'd spotted you from across the room and pushed his way through the crowd to get to you. He'd flirted with you nearly the whole night, never giving in to your disinterested responses. When he'd finally left at the end of the night, he made sure to see you off with such an enthusiastic goodbye that you'd think he'd known you for years.

This had been a near daily pattern for the last three weeks or so. He'd come in to the club and seat himself at your bar. He'd flirt, all crazed grins and dilated pupils, until he was too wasted to tell one person from another, at which point one of his friends would drag him home. And while you always rejected his advances—you did like to humor him sometimes. You couldn't deny that he was attractive: exactly your type, really. And he could be surprisingly charming when he wasn't stoned out of his mind. So he'd flirt, and you'd tease him in return, often even taking him by surprise. You liked seeing his face heat up, his ears tinged red, and his surprised yet gleeful expression.

And when one night he invited you back to his place, you'd actually considered it. You really had. But you knew, just like you knew the sun would rise the next morning, that being in a relationship with him would only hurt you in the end. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad person, really. You'd seen a lot of horrible men in your life—the kind of men you couldn't trust to hold your drink. But Thanos didn't strike you as that type. He could be obnoxious with his flirting, sure, but he never pushed so hard as to make anybody uncomfortable. He'd get into fights sometimes, but he never started any that weren't deserved. Overall, he gave you the impression of somebody trying to act tougher than they were, like a kitten spiking its fur to seem intimidating. He was almost cute, in that way.

No, it wasn't any of that that put you off of him. It was those colorful pills he kept in a cross around his neck. It was the white powder he'd see sprinkled onto his nose, when he was too far gone to even wipe it off. It was how he would drink himself into oblivion, if you didn't cut him off beforehand. You'd seen a lot of addicts in your life, even loved some of them. And there were few things more painful than watching somebody you care about deteriorate into a person they weren't. You'd seen many people like him, both famous and not. And you could count on one hand the different possible paths he was going down. Very few of them ended happily.

So you passed out drinks, and he flirted, and you teased him. You observed him from afar, watching the drugs control him more than himself. And you felt kind of bad. You had this strange urge to help him, somehow. To save him from himself and his self-destructive tendencies. But you also knew you'd only hurt yourself in the process. And Thanos, as immature as he often acted, was an adult capable of ruining his own life, if that's what he wanted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd had a very, very shitty week. The type of week that could steer your life off track. Your future, fucked. Your relationships, fucked. Everything, fucked.

But life was life, and so you went to work. One of the few constants you had left. You poured drink after drink, fighting the urge to down them yourself. The pain, the betrayal, the fear of the future all seemed to swirl together in your stomach into something bitter and resigned. The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit, because why the fuck not?

It was something you'd felt many a time before. It's something you recognized in the surrounding faces so often, including Thanos'. It was a downward spiral. Seeking numbness would only lead to worse decisions. Whether or not you realized it, you'd come out the other end changed, usually for the worst.

The thing was, it was too hard to care.

"Senoritaaaaaaaa-" the upbeat voice came barreling around the corner, bringing with it the familiar purple-haired boy wearing his trademark grin. Thanos slides onto the barstool directly in front of you, leaning half his body on the bar. "Miss me, baby?" He says in English—something he does a lot when flirting. He sends an exaggerated wink your way.

You try, but fail to muster your usual playfulness when Thanos comes around. Instead, you sent him a wane smile, looking back down quickly as somehow his bright personality feels too much for you at the moment. "Usual?" you ask, already pulling out a glass.

In your peripheral vision, Thanos nudges his friend that you hadn't even noticed before now. "See? She knows me so well." He says. You don't even have the energy to roll your eyes. When you don't respond and simply slide his drink across the bar, Thanos waits a beat before speaking again. He holds up one finger in a 'wait' gesture, and you internally sigh.

"I think I'm in the mood for something sweeter tonight." He says, eyes still on you.

You can already feel the set up to some shitty pick up line. But instead of playing into it, you ask "So you want a mixer?"

Thanos actually scoffs at the question, seeming almost offended. "Come on, babe, you know I'm not a bitch like that," he says, and you do actually roll your eyes this time. Especially when he leans forward even more, bringing himself only a few inches from your face. "But I was thinking your lips are sweet enough, yeah?" Thanos puckers his lips, tapping them with one finger.

It's not the first time he's tried something of this caliber. Normally, you'd come up with a sarcastic comeback or push him backwards with the palm of your hand. This time you do neither, simply sliding him his drink and walking away.

You don't look towards Thanos as you start to help another customer, but you can almost sense a stunned silence coming from his direction. You're only just finishing up with the other patron when Thanos slides back into your line of vision. Holding a hand up in front of his face and waving it. With some effort, you ignore him again, grabbing some glasses to wash.

You think you can hear Thanos' friend say something to him. And Thanos himself stubbornly pushes himself back into your line of sight. He waves again, only to get the same result. "I must be invisible," Thanos jokes to his friend. "Come onnnn, babe," he drawls in a whining tone.

At last you lose patience. Setting down the glass you're washing with a loud clank, you look up at him. You aren't sure what expression you have on right now, but it seems to take Thanos aback.

"Do you need something? I'm kind of busy," you snap, gesturing towards the other customers at the bar. In truth, you really aren't that busy. And you know it isn't particularly fair to Thanos, switching up your attitude towards him so suddenly. But you're so fucking tired, and you just can't deal with his sunshine-y persona right now.

You expect him to be annoyed. Mad, even. But instead his eyebrows furrow up, forming an expression you haven't seen on him before. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, voice still exaggerated but a bit lower than it was before.

When you don't answer, he drops his chin to the bar pitifully, gazing up at you with a good imitation of sad puppy eyes. And it really isn't fair that this guy, this piece of shit drug-addicted rapper, makes such effective puppy eyes. But unfortunately, he is actually pretty cute. Maybe it's the eye makeup that makes his eyes pop? No- stop thinking about that. You force yourself to turn away from the despairing boy.

Just as you think you've finally shaken him off, he appears at the end of the bar, full body within your line of sight. He drops to his knees, forming a comically exaggerated 'begging' pose.

"The Great Thanos apologizes for your grievances," he says, bowing his head at you. "whatever they may be. And begs your forgiveness, oh gorgeous one." He blinks up at you, winking once again with a playful smirk on his face. But there's something else in his eyes, something more real. Does he genuinely think he's done something wrong to you? Of course, he's annoyed the hell out of you, consistently. But you've never really minded much before.

At his dramatic display (which is drawing a crowd, you realize with exhaustion) your expression softens minutely, and you give in. "You haven't done anything, Thanos. I'm just having a shitty day, okay?"

Thanos' eyes widen in understanding. He stands up again, and he sits back at the bar. To your relief, the crowd he'd drawn with his theatrics quickly disperses. "Anything the great Thanos can help with?" he asks, still playful to an extent but seeming genuine. You can't help but smile at him.

"Just some personal stuff. Nothing you can help with. Just go have fun, yeah?" you push his drink towards him one more time. Thanos nods slightly in understanding.

"You know where I am, yeah?" he blows you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd.

You sigh, getting back to work. But you can't deny that you feel a little lighter now, somehow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite finally getting the rapper to leave you be, it isn't the last time you see him that night. He drops by your bar even more often than usual. Sometimes not even getting a drink. Instead, he drops by to tell you dumb jokes, stories that are too insane to be true, and even the occasional failed magic trick. But he doesn't push you to respond like he normally would.

Every now and then, you can't help but quirk a smile at his antics. And whenever you do, he instantly lights up like a little kid at an amusement park. Every time he leaves, he sends you a smile and a salute as if to say, "I'll be back."

By the end of the night, you're exhausted. Not in the physical way, but in the deep-seated way when your soul is just so drained you can't think about anything. You aren't surprised when a familiar boy plops himself down at your bar that's now empty.

It seems it's not only your energy is drained, but his as well. His energy is far calmer than usual and makes you wonder if he's more sober tonight than he normally is. He smiles at you impishly, with just a hint of something else. ... Anxiety? Surely not. Anxiety is the last you'd ever associate with him.

"I have an invitation for you-" he starts, and the word 'no' is on the very tip of your tongue. Your lips nearly form the word when he interrupts you suddenly. "Wait!" he exclaims, holding one hand up as if to make you pause. "Party at my place. Before you say no, I promise you, it will be the" he stops for a second, looking for the words. "Best night of your life," he finally finishes in English.

You notice suddenly the group of drunk stragglers hanging out nearby, waiting for Thanos. Going to his 'party' as well, you assume.

No. No. Absolutely not. The word forms, takes shape, and is about to come out when you glance down at his hand. His palm, which you previously thought to be empty, is actually holding something.

A pill, hardly the size of a dime, and the same purple as his hair. You knew instantly what it was—a new party drug that only started hitting the streets recently. You'd observed countless people take it, watching the unnaturally strong energy and euphoria take over their minds.

It's a bad idea. You glance back up at Thanos, who is being surprisingly patient waiting for your response. You look into his eyes, his pretty, pretty eyes.

The dark mass swirls inside your stomach. You imagine yourself saying 'no'. Going home alone to your apartment. Eating crappy takeout and thinking about how fucked up your life has gotten.

Well, you've made worse decisions before.

You reach for his hand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[knmaskitten]

Messy ‹𝟹

Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader.

Summary: You decide to accompany your father to his business party with all his boring-looking co-workers. Until you spot Nanami Kento and you’re not able to take your eyes off of him the whole evening.

warnings / tags: No use of y/n. Reader is in her twenties, a lot of slapping, creampie, praise and degradation kink, almost public sex?, mentions of the pill, unprotected p in v, oral (f recieving). VERY BADLY WRITTEN SMUT. Sorry if i forgot anything, tell me if that is the case !

notes: This was so self-indulgent. I'm really sorry if you read this I'm so bad at writing smut. This was not proof read so enjoy!

wc: 2,296.

minors dni, 18+ only !!

It was a saturday night when your father randomly asked you to accompany him to one of his work parties. It made sense; your mother was on a trip visiting your grandma, and your dad surely loathed going alone to said gatherings. That did not mean it didn’t take you by surprise—this whole boring ordeal—but you loved your dad and ended up agreeing to be his company for the night.

So this is how you ended up at a party with people clad in work attire; ergo, you felt like you were sticking out like a sore thumb. You innocently picked a flowy white blouse and a black pleated skirt alongside a pair of Mary Jane shoes. Even so, you were not going to feel self-conscious over some stupidly boring outfits that only people who gave up on fun could pick. And also, your outfit was super cute.

“He is my boss, little one. He makes my life miserable.” Your dad whispered to you. You saw a man who could easily be an NPC. You chuckled a little bit, rolling your eyes. You couldn’t believe that a boring-looking man could make your dad’s life so difficult.

“So sorry to be you, dad.”

And then, in a sea full of grey and monotonous office workers, you saw him. Toned, tall and well-built. A blonde guy who could easily crush you between his fingers. It urged you to know who he was. He was no different than the others, dressed in caqui pants and a blouse that, to your surprise, was blue and not white like the other ones. It urged you to know who he was, as you slightly bit your lip when you analyzed him from top to bottom. The room felt a little bit more hot with him in it.

You panicked when you saw him approaching you. Did he see you? Did he notice how you looked at him? You were so out of it that you almost didn’t catch him and your dad exchanging greetings. You heard your name escape your dad’s lips, only to be followed by the guy’s voice. Your name sounded angelic coming from him. You had to force yourself to snap out of it.

“This is Nanami Kento, little one.” Your dad told you. “He works with me.”

“Hello, I guess my dad already introduced me.” You looked at him, this time intentionally, and extended your hand so you could feel at least his hands. He took your hand in his firmly and shook it. This left a tingling sensation on the palm of your hand.

The rest of the night, you couldn’t take your eyes off Nanami, It was as if he had a magnet glued to his torso. He drew you in; he looked so deliciously toned that you started to feel the need to see him without this much clothing. What could he be hiding behind his office worker clothes? Was the room always this hot? My god, he was going to make you collapse. 

For a really short moment, he connected his eyes to yours. Stoic as he was, he did not take his eyes off of yours, not once changing his collected expression. And you didn’t know if this was your delusion, your own imagination, but you swore he signaled you with his head and then walked off the crowded place. So, with your heart on your hands, you told your dad you needed to go to the bathroom and followed Nanami.

You caught a glimpse of blonde walking and taking a turn towards the office desks, so you hurriedly followed him. You saw him standing, giving you his broad and muscular back. You licked your lips before saying:

“Nanami-san, are you alright?” You innocently said.

He turned around to face you, looking at your body, unashamed. The curve of your hips, your plush tits, and your ass that was barely covered by your skirt. He slowly walked towards you, cornering you with the wall. You could feel how his chest rose with each breath he took.

“You’re such a little naughty girl. Looking at me all night long.” He clicked his tongue, disaprovingly. “Thought I wouldn’t notice those shamelessly pretty eyes?”

You quivered looking at him; you saw him starting to loosen up his tie, shaking his head in the process. Deciding it was best not to move a muscle, you gleefully decided to admire his movements. 

“Imma teach you to be respectful to your elders, pretty girl.”

He then put his hand in front of you; he looked to be asking for permission. You knew this meant you were tacitly agreeing to something bigger than just a single hand. And you wanted it so bad, so you gave him both your hands. Nanami very swiftly tied both of your hands behind your back with his tie.

“Pretty eyes wonder how they’ll look brimming with tears while you scream my name.” He whispered near your earlobe, nibbling at it. You shuddered, feeling something deep inside your core. He was going to get you wet with nothing, how pathetic of you. You wanted to touch him, to sink your hands into his neatly done hair, to squish his muscles, but you couldn’t.

Nanami brought his hands to your hips, squishing them tightly, while leaving a trail of wet kisses from your ear to the crook of your neck, he stopped there. With one of his hands, he revealed a little bit more of your collarbone and started leaving lovebites there, marking territory. Anybody who could see you will know that you were his.

“You’re so soft.” He mumbled in your skin, his hot breath making you quiver. He looked at you with hazel eyes, hungry, and then kissed you. It wasn’t a sloppy kiss; this was orchestrated, as if he were a director and you were his orchestra. You matched the kiss, it felt as if he was all you needed in your life. Lips clashing, he glued his body to yours, grabbing you by the hips. He explored.

He decided to explore your ass, squishing it hard once, twice, then slapping it. You moaned in between kisses, feeling how his hand pushed your skirt upwards to gain more access to your ass. His other hand went up, landing underneath your blouse and slowly going towards your breasts; he felt them, over your bra. You could feel how his digits applied different kinds of pressure to your sensitive area, how he placed two fingers in between one of your nipples.

“Nanami-san, ah” You moaned when he started playing with your nipple.

Nanami Kento looked like a cool, calm and collected type of guy, and he showed it in every single one of his movements. On the way he ruthlessly flickered and squished your nipple between his fingers, on how he casually stopped the kiss and looked at you—plush lips, pinkish cheeks, and big, lustful filled eyes. You huffed, trying to catch your breath. 

“You look so perfect like this.” He whispered, close to your face.

He started teasing you, touching the hem of your panties, tugging at them. He then pushed you towards a desk, urging you to sit on it. He positioned himself in between your legs and planted a chaste kiss on your covered pussy. You whined at this, feeling a heat rush deep into your core. You could feel it, you were getting wet. He did not make any comments; he just let out a faint chuckle, as if this amused him. Nanami decided to explore the plethora of reactions you could give him. He first felt your clit over your clothed folds, rubbing slow, delicious circles.

Arching your back, you purred a little moan. He then slapped your clit lightly, scolding you.

“Be quiet now, darling. We don’t want your daddy hearing us, don’t we?” 

He resumed his task, pushing your panties aside, he admired how wet you were. He teased you about it, your name escaping his lips in a degrading manner. This made your head feel fuzzy as he acknowledged that this was, in a way, something that couldn’t be discovered. For fucks sake, you were his coworker’s daughter and at least 8 or 6 years younger than him. You felt so lewd, so out of it. Your hands wanted to explore Nanami, to touch his abs and his well-toned chest. God, you hated being restrained, but at the same time, it elicited some kind of deep, twisted pleasure.

He kneeled down inches from your wet, dripping entrance. You caught him licking his lips, and then he pushed his face into you. Wet sucking sounds were all that could be heard, you tried your best not to be noisy, but it was hard, extremely hard. You felt how he used his tongue to lap at your clit, applying the right amount of preassure to send you to heaven. For him you taste sweet, like honey, and he was enjoying you.

He decided his tongue was not enough, so he used your wet arousal to coat his finger and pushed it into you, you moaned. He started thrusting, his moves deep and well-maneuvered, everything was exactly calculated to his liking. You felt how he was hitting that spongy point of yours, with his finger curled up. The little knot in your lower belly grew stronger by the minute; you were a hot mess. Soaked and messy, the squelching sounds and your whimpers echoed in the room, fogging your brain and clouding your senses. He made you feel mushy.

He increased his pace, knowing this would manage to get you on edge. You arched your back and started squirming.

“I’m going to cum soon, Nanami-san.” You gasped.

He started pumping his finger in and out more ruthlessly, inserting a second finger.His fingers felt tight they were thick and long, reaching perfectly every spot that needed his attention. You felt it before him, how your walls tightened around his fingers before you covered them with your juices, coming. He did not stop pumping, helping you through your high. 

He looked neat, as if none of this had an impact on him; you could only discern the hard bulge that grew in his pants. Nanami made eye contact with you, giving you a stern look, and afterwards, taking his glistening fingers to his mouth, tasting you once again.

“You taste as sweetly as you look.” He commented, wiping his fingers clean. “Look at you; I can’t believe you are doing such lewd stuff with your dad’s coworker. Such a naughty girl, might need a lesson or two.”

You whined, not replying to him. It really made you feel aroused by the way he spoke to you, how he treated you like you were the prettiest thing in the world, and then how he reminded you of how indecent it was what you were doing. He gave you a long kiss, in which you battled against his tongue, trying to win terrain in an already lost war.

After that, he decided it was time for you to have him because he unbuckled his pants and took out his length. You saw it sprung free and pushed your legs together expectantly, trying to ease your need. He was large and thick; he pumped his shaft twice, coating it with precum before he asked:

“Are you on the pill, darling?” He huffed.

“Yeah, please, hurry up.” You pleaded, needing him more than you have ever needed anyone in your life.

He gave you a quick slap to your tits, grabbing them roughly afterwards, flickering your nipples.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” He then added, looking directly into your eyes. “Imma stuff you full, sweetheart.” He then aligned with your entrance, entering in one swift motion, leaving you stuffed and flustered. This was nothing like his fingers; this felt a step further than heaven. Bliss was all that you could think of.

He was good, with each and every pump, he managed to undo you more, leaving you in chaos. He grabbed you by the hips with brute force, fiercely. You knew his fingers were going to leave marks on your soft skin. But it didn’t matter as long as he kept thrusting into you, you didn’t care.

You also knew that, after this, no man could ever satisfy you like he did. Nanami was going to leave you broken for everybody else. You could feel him stretching you out, deliciously, feeling the pang that came with him hitting the right spot. He felt your cunt starting to squeeze tightly around his cock, making him grunt.

“Gonna finish inside of you, angel.” He said, dangerously close to your ear. For the first time in the evening, you were able to see him worked up. Pearls of sweat pooled in his forehead, ruining the neatness of his hair, which was now sticking to his forehead.

And you felt your high coming and moaned in answer; you two were a symphony of grunts and whimpers, clouding the room with heat. And with one final sound and whine of his name, you came undone. Covering his cock with your juices. He didn’t stop, though, guiding you through your high and going into overestimulation. He pushed with more brute force into you, pushing you thighs upwards.

You felt his cock twitch and knew he was close. He increased his pace, smashing his hips into your ass, creating even more lustful sounds. After that, he came, saying your name in a grunt and filling you up with his cum. He gave you a kiss and pulled out.

And as if nothing had happened, he fixed his hair and pants and left you there, panting and gasping, messy.

Thank you for reading <3

masterlist and more.

[wombywoo]

I think you mentioned werewolves some time ago. Are they treated about the same as vampires ? Or do they face more/less bigotry? Are they the kind that can control their transformations or only can transform during a full moon? In your universe are they born as werewolves or turned ? (Big werewolf and quinncent universe fan…)

Waaahhhh I can't believe I've neglected werewolves for this long 😩 Apologies! Tbh, I've spent so much of my time daydreaming about my main 2 dudes, so I feel like I haven't given as much attention to other stuff in the lore ✨

But yes! Werewolves exist! In this universe, lycanthropy is contracted by being bitten by a bigass mutated supernatural wolf thing (™️) or by another werewolf. The mutated wolves are extremely feral and used to be rare enough that they only caused isolated problems throughout history, but a recent influx has seen a rise in attacks on the public (yikes). It's not a guarantee that someone bitten will turn either; sometimes they come out unscathed, sometimes they just die 💀

The appearance of a werewolf is pretty standard--giant dog-like beast. Fur color can vary; browns, grays, reds, etc. There are also variations in the body type--some are bipedal, others quadrupedal. For the most part, they're all extremely fast runners. They have big, glowing, completely white eyes, reminiscent of the moon. Claws, teeth, the usual. It is an extremely painful process to transform, but once you've endured the first year, it gets a bit easier.

Now that werewolves have been acknowledged under new abhuman recognition laws, there are several methods of 'treating' the condition. During a full moon, a registered werewolf is required to either--a. take a neutralizing pill (this won't stop the transformation, but it causes the patient to be rendered docile and nonaggressive during their cycle) or option b. visit a secure 'werewolf transformation center' (a fortified facility where patients can safely transform amongst other werewolves while under observation). A transformation is unavoidable for every full moon, but werewolves can also transform from various circumstances at any given time--under duress, anger, fear, as well as dog-like triggers--bursts of running, having an object thrown at them (frisbees have been banned in public places, sadly 😔) There's a separate pill that exists to limit these kinds of involuntary transformations (results vary).

Another aspect of werewolf documentation is the requirement that they have a 'handler'. As you can imagine, this sparks a lot of 'dog and master' debate, so it's not entirely well received--but a werewolf is required to have someone supervise them in their day-to-day life (in order to be on standby if a random transformation were to occur). This is usually a relative, but can also be an assigned service worker if there's no other option.

There is a fair amount of prejudice stacked against them--I think people are even more blatant in their bigotry against werewolves because of all the dog comparisons 😞They're viewed as 'feral and disgusting', and a lot of people attempt to conceal their conditions because of this. Vampires also face backlash, but there's more of a public fear for them, whereas werewolves are usually the butt of a joke, despite being equally dangerous 🥲

For protective measures against rogue werewolves, or even ones unaware they have the condition yet, a tranquilizing dart has been implemented that will sedate and incapacitate someone in the midst of a violent transformation. (This is why a handler is needed--to carry this tranquilizer and use it in case of emergency.) A rabies-like vaccine has also been developed to inject into a recently-bitten individual to prevent the lycanthropy from spreading.

I do have a werewolf character in mind for my little imaginary military task force--her name is Sheila; snarky, Irish, butch lesbian ✊ She was bitten as a teen (by one of the aforementioned mutant dogs) and so far, she has not disclosed her condition to the rest of the squad 😤 She's also ditched her government issued handler for a while (crusty old dude who she hates), and instead has been assigned a temporary new one--the enigmatic witch 'consultant' of the team known as Birdie....

More on that later (at some point) muahaha🙆‍♀️

[pseudowho]

Hi Haitch!

Firstly, I’d like to preface this with saying that I really appreciate the community atmosphere you’ve created on your page; the “shoot the shit” vibes you have with mutuals is genuinely so refreshing. It also has helped someone like me, who is generally too anxious to interact with people online, feel comfortable enough to dip my toes into asks a bit more (albeit anonymously for now lol).

Anyways, this all goes to say that I recently watched a video essay that made me think, “I want to share this with someone right now”. And, as someone who has written a lot of pieces (which btw: 15/10, *chef’s kiss) and explored the genre, I figured why not send it your way! https://youtu.be/cjG2OqCKDc4?si=ouISfbT97deriKmC (“the unknown pleasures of problematic romance”).

There’s no requirement to respond to this or anything btw! Just wanted to drop a quick message of appreciation and share some (hopefully interesting) food for thought. :)

I'm so pleased my blog is a safe space for you. I'm as sincere about it in life as I am on my blog. Please feel free to always interact with me, as you know I don't bite.

I'm watching this video as I type, and honestly, she's got a lot of great things to say! Thank you for sending it to me.

I have to say, the toxic trope exploration has always had two purposes in my mind; fantasising in a safe place about things that would be terrifying or dangerous in real life, and deconstructing our own fears by reading them in type.

I think, what a lot of women around me find frustrating, is that a lot of the traits that we see as desirable in a male partner (protectiveness, the wish to be a caregiver, the wish for them to take charge), have been heavily built into the wider "toxic male" expectation, and this wider "toxic male" tends to come with far less desirable traits.

Either that, or these desirable traits come with the expectation of exchange, like:

"You want protection? I own you, then."

"You want to be cared for? Take the lion's share of the mental and emotional household burden, then."

"You want me to take charge? All or nothing, then."

With the heavy heavy advancement of anti-women movements (incels, red pill, 'not all men', Andrew Tate, etc.) there has been a progressive and rapidly growing attitude that women are stupid and don't know what they want from a man, that they're users, that they 'predate' men to take advantage of them financially, and many other bundles of filth.

This movement has been popularised so badly, I think, that there has been a societal shift towards conditioning very young women to look for a 'dominant', and often older and wealthier, male partner. While this is displayed as being in our favour, it is, rather, a further attempt to disenfranchise women, and place them in relationships where they will be more vulnerable to being abused, under the guise of being 'cared for'.

There was also a spectacular interview with Gillian Anderson about her new book, which is full of confessions of womens' sexual fantasies. Anderson raised how acutely she was shamed for discussing her fantasies in a public forum. This is, of course, another way women are routinely attacked; mens' sexual fantasies have been given public forum (and women have been expected to cater to them) since time immemorial, and once more, in a very Victorian fashion, women are disgusting for voicing sexual desires.

In other words, in other words...women are routinely exploring sex and relationships through tropes, and many men hate it, because if there's one thing many men hate, it's women putting their heads together and recognising that they're not the problem.

I'm not here to 'not all men' by the way, so don't come at me with that crap. When women talk about this, we know exactly the type of men we're talking about, and if it's not relevant to the men in your life, move on.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[atranswomansdiary]

Day 1

It happened in the worst possible moment...

Today's June 5th, 2020. It’s a Friday and I once again had trouble getting out to bed to go to work.

I’ve suspected for a while that I’m very depressed, for the umpteenth time. I had a painful breakup almost a year ago and, after that, I rebounced rather quickly because of many reasons, one of the most important being that I started a new job, perhaps for the first time in my life, under my conditions. In short: (sort of) a full salary plus benefits in exchange for working only 4 hours a day, from Monday to Friday. 20 hours a week. 80 hours a month.

In spite of this great situation (unique, in many senses) I've been having issues waking up and getting to work on time. Although I had the opportunity to take a company transfer and avoid any commute hassles (fee included), I almost never got there in time. And even though the company offices were only half an hour or so away, even on public transportation, I was still getting there late almost everyday—sometimes by a lot. I was also failing to show up to work a couple of days a month.

I was deadly afraid of losing this incredibly comfortable job in the first few months. If I did, I probably wouldn’t have enough money to make rent with my freelance stuff, so I’d have to return to live with my parents, in a house that literally has no space for me anymore.

I asked A.P. (he/him) to help me. After some back and forth, he prescibed me an “introductory” antidepressant and some mild sleeping pills, but it has been 9 months or so since then and my mood has improved a little (it’s true), but I’m still struggling with going to the office five days a week, let alone getting there on time.

Even more so once the pandemic broke out.

It’s been a couple of months now since the world basically went to shit and, although I’ve pushed and struggled and pleaded to be allowed to work from home—doing the same job I do at the office, but without having to struggle to get out of my apartment every single fucking day—my boss has been adamant that I still need to go at least some days to the office every week. According to him, it’s for my own good, to “protect my reputation in the eyes of my coworkers”. Picture my eyes rolling so hard that I can actually see my brain.

So: today’s Friday. As everybody else in the world, I didn’t feel any desire to go to the office, even less so given the current situation. I once again cursed my boss and took enough time to finally get up from bed that I left the small apartment I rent already late.

As with any time I go to the office (the company transfer is no longer an option, so I have to commute), Cheap Trick’s hit Ghost Town sounds in my head; the city looks deserted and abandoned. The few who are forced to leave their homes, as I am, move and act like specters, shadows of once-people—as do I, to be honest. We move slowly and fearfully through the streets, unwillingly risking our lives because, well, that’s the fucked up world we live in.

Or at least that’s how I feel.

I’d love to think that I’m just like everybody. Or, in reality, that everybody else feels just like I do.

I went out, almost running, and I already had a major decision to make: subway or bus. The bus is slow and unreliable, but there’s definitely less people in it and, what’s best, I get to sit down and read or just listen to music through the whole commute, mostly undisturbed. The subway, on the other hand, is fast and runs on a tight schedule but is a) filled with people and b) it gets me close to the office, but not exactly there. I have to walk around 15 minutes from the subway station to the office proper, through alleways and streets that are mostly deserted at this early hour and, what’s worse, have a reputation of being dangerous at any time of day.

Taking everything into consideration—and more on a whim than anything else, really—I chose the subway.

The journey was short and uneventful. I got out of the train station and I don’t remember what music was playing on my ears, but I do remember being tired and bored. Then, a remnant image of last night’s dream hit me, the one that I privately blame for being late this morning.

I don’t usually remember my dreams. When they’re emotionally charged I sometimes wake up with what I call “emotional waste”, the afterimage of the intense feelings that I experienced onirically but, apart from that, I just don’t remember many concrete details about them. Mostly sensations and blurry images, that’s all.

Last night I once again dreamed that I was a woman.

It was a throwback to the time when I was still in a relationship with perhaps the greatest partner I’ve ever had: L.M. (she/her). In the dream we were living together in the tiny apartment that was our love nest, laughing and talking about something I can’t recall. We were just standing there, having a nice conversation and loving each other deeply, as we did. But, in this dream, I was a woman.

As far as I’m aware, L.M. never had any experience with or interest in any women in their life. That’s kind of a new thing for me, since most of my previous (or posterior) partners had an “attraction for women’s phase” in their lives (their words, not mine) or were decidedly bisexual. So this dream is all kinds of impossible and, still, the joy of being a woman comes back with such strength—even just being the recollection of a half-forgotten oniric experience—that I openly smile for the first time in the day.

I change the music to an energetic track and start walking with something resembling the happiness or joy of doing so with a purpose. My heart aches a little bit: if only! I have this weird feeling—I’ve been conscious of it for a while now—that I would’ve been much happier if I had been born a woman. That maybe I wouldn’t be such a failure at 34 if, when my parents made me, my dad’s contribution to the whole affair had been an “X” instead of a “Y”. But, alas! It didn’t.

It’s too late for me.

Plus, I’ve never had any homosexual experiences or even any hint of erotic attraction towards men. Men are controversial figures in my life; I have few male friends and most of them are cis heterosexuals. I consider myself one as well. Cis and heterosexual.

I follow a number of trans women YouTubers, it’s true, and I consider myself an ally of the feminist cause (4th wave and intersectional, thank you very much!). I’ve read Beauvoir, Cisneros, and Butler. Woolf, Plath, Pizarnik, and Storni are among my favorite writers. Le Guin and Rice are my (seelie and unseelie) queens.

I’ve never felt as much of a “man”, except during that weird period in my life a couple of years ago when I tried to become a “manly man” after reading too many of Howard’s Conan stories one after the other while being extremely lonely and suicidal (as one does, of course). I’ve actually thought about tattooing a quote from those stories in my body. The quote reads,

"I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content."

My only problem is with the “slay” part. I don’t think I could ever kill any human being. I have a hard time eating meat and I try to save spiders and other abhorred creatures whenever I can. I love Death—especially Sandman's version of her—but I don’t think I could deal in such violence.

It doesn’t really matter. It’s already too late.

I was crossing one of the streets and then an idea flashed through my mind. It’s OK: it is late. No one’s arguing that. I’ll never do anything about it. But, but… Is there any problem if I imagined a different reality? If I, excuse the mundane use of the word, fantasized with a world in which I was born a woman? No one would ever know about it. It���d be my little secret.

And then, it happened.

I was walking down these dangerous and deserted streets, the same I’ve traveled many times during the past year, but this time, it was different. I was immensely, indescribably, ridiculously happy. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt each step, I breathed in the chill morning air, and I was content. Yes, like the Conan quote above. I felt like myself, if only for those infinitely long in the memory—but painfully brief in reality—ten to fifteen minutes. During that time, I was me. I was a woman.

I was complete.

I got to work and reality crushed me. My name—the one I was given at birth—slapped me in the face as a friendly guard at the company’s door gave me a warm welcome.

The sensation faded away during the morning. Little by little, it disappeared completely… Or so I thought. It was fantasy and imagination, that’s all. I consider myself to be pretty good at those. But it was just that: a fancy, a whim, as concrete and real and solid as a fragment of a dream can be. Maybe one day I’ll remember what it was to be truly happy, thanks to no reason or excuse greater than just imagining what it would be like to be born in a body with a different sex and a whole lot of different expectations and experiences than my own.

But that is in a future I can’t even imagine and this was today.

Until then, with love,

ZZ

[ricardian-werewolf]

Fanfic Masterlist: Finished Fics:

Rating: Mature Status: FINISHED 5/9/24. Cw/Tws: heavy discussions of mental health, prices of religious trauma and sainthood. Lots of mentions of attempted assassinations by Vasily. Sexual assault mentions, smut in later chapters, graphic depictions of violence, but canon. merzost being used anti-canonically.

Ao3 Link: Masterlist

Stars 'round his wrists.

When I am King, you will be first against the wall.

Take My hand, I'll drown you with me.

But your profile could not hide the fact you knew I was approaching your throne.

The world is lying fallow and you are apart from me.

Holy Water cannot help you now.

Still, I follow the Heartlines on your hand.

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

The Cost of the Crown.

I am a world's forgotten boy.

Once More unto the Breach.

The Sun's turning Red.

Everytime I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray.

True Faith

Just our hands clasped so tight.

****

Non-Grishaverse FINISHED FIC.

Synopsis:

Atlantic City, 1921. Prohibition has come in with a bang, and the bootleggers long to profit off of people’s desire for spirits. But some of their intentions and creations come with nasty consequences. Sometimes, liquor really can kill. And for Nucky Thompson, that’s a gamble he’s willing to take. Even if federal agents are snapping at his heels, and people are dying in the streets, Atlantic City, is after all, the world’s playground.

Chapter list:

Blood stained sheets

The ivory tower

The tin soldier

A Wolf, a man, and a plan

Every little thing she does is madness.

Leave before the sun comes up

Burning for you

Death Race

The darkest hour is before the dawn

Don’t turn your back

Series: Profunda Venae - Deep veins. 

Chronicling a split off of English history during the weeks after Victoria’s coronation, this series explores the What-Ifs of the English Industrial revolution and the idea of vampires being representative of the ruling class. It also dives into the ideas of class revolution, Nuclear Winter, the usage of productive power to control the narrative, and more. It is also mainly a narrative of just how dangerous controlling the reins of who tells history can truly be.

Written during the hardest years of my life, this series was created to be a distraction from the mires and misery of Neurodivergency in a common-education experience.

Book 1 is set in a world much like our own with certain shifts. Book 2 is a world that starts out similar and quickly becomes quite different. Book 3 is a world that is far in the past and far in the future all at once.

Book 1: The Lineaments of Malefaction: [Finished 2022]

Synopsis:

1838 - the house of Hanover and the United Kingdom are at last stable. Queen Victoria has taken to the throne with Lord M at her shoulder as her beloved Prime Minister. However, as always, those left in the shadows squabble and plot.

For what more of a travesty can there be than a sweet queen of 18, and a human one at that?

Wrongs must always be righted, regardless of who is in the way. Sometimes those means are more dastardly than anyone could imagine. As someone once said, family is not stronger than the blood that is spilt on the battlefield of power.

Chapter List, with dates of publication:

Pills and plans (2022-03-11)

Blood in the water (2022-03-12)

A murder of politicians (2022-03-13)

Ballrooms and bites (2022-03-13)

The Revenants of Pemberley (2022-03-17)

Lifting the veil (2022-03-17)

Burning down the castle (2022-03-28)

Shadows, the stars, and you. (2022-03-28)

Oh Noel (2022-04-02)

For the Queen (2022-04-02)

If we burn, you burn with us (2022-04-07)

recovery and revolution (2022-04-07)

Paint it black (2022-04-07)

A wedding and a honeymoon. (2022-04-07)

All that ends well (2022-04-07)

Book 2: The Evils of Darkness: [Finished 2022]

Synopsis:

1848 - the house of Kingsbridge and England have enjoyed 8 years of relative peace and quiet. Victoria and Lord M are at last united in matrimony and state, and those who opposed their rule are defeated or interred. Yet, plans always abound to take down those some see as unpopular.

For vampires aren’t fit to rule humans. Even in a place like Great Britain, wrongs must be righted, and balance must be restored.

No matter the personal cost.

Chapter List:

A bad beginning

Hold tight London

The Threads of eternity.

The War Game

When the wind blows

The Day After

Protect and survive

Operation square leg

Do no harm

Nuclear winter

Babylon

Unfinished FICS:

Book 3: Dum Pugnatur, Bellum Amittitur [ongoing - stagnant updates based on fixation]

Synopsis:

1865 - the thrones of Queen Victoria and King William are lost to the wastelands. The House of Kingsbridge is no more, and in its place, factions plot and squabble to rule the destroyed land once called England.

But that is easier said then done, for England herself is a place of ruin and starvation. For the nuclear winter that ripped the royal family apart has rolled its citizens back to the Middle Ages. But for those who have survived the hell of 1858, there is a new threat on the horizon that may blot out even 1848 - America has been at war with itself for going on 4 years, and there is whispers abounding that the Royal Family may be amongst the evacuees who fled on the steamship, the Kerberos.

All of these whispers and plans within plans make for a perfect firestorm to be set upon England's starving lower classes, for as someone once said: fealty is not stronger than the blood that is spilled on the battlefield of power.

Chapter list:

1. Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent

2. Ravens feathers and Mozart

3. Paternoster Row

4. The Evil Genius of the Republican Party.

5. A Plea To Fate

6. Marian

Fear and Delight, or how I learned to stop worrying and wear gloves to hide my trauma. {ongoing - abandoned until new season comes out and interior worldbuilding kinks are solved}

Synopsis:

* Set During Season 2 of the Gilded Age - does not follow central plot by the beats*. Title taken from Dr Strangelove. ***** The Russell's Newport mansion could be called many things. The New York Times called it “Grandiose - a paragon of modern architecture.” The Post deemed it: “The newly-built mansion is a sign of the shifting tides of New Money upon our cities elite,”. More attention was paid to the ongoing Opera War waged by Bertha Russell and her arch nemesis, Caroline Astor. Astor had the boxes at the Academy of Music and dealt them out like generals awarding medals to soldiers who’d survived a conflict: rarely given and precious to only a few. Bertha Russell had set up the enemy camp with her Metropolitan Opera house (still undergoing building and desperately needing funds), and sought to gain some of the broken backs of the Academy’s patrons. The more soldiers - patrons - Mrs Russell could win over in advance of the Met’s opening, the better. ***** Robber Barons, The Crows, a Princess who is in America to settle an old Score, all for one very mediocre production of Faust.

Chapter list:

Washington Square

Old Money

Abstract: Set in an alternate timeline of the Grishaverse where the country of Ravka very closely resembles the Western Front of the Great War, this is a fic that sets out to explore an idea: What if First Army developed their own order of Saints, and how this affects the war effort. Part reflection on Religion, War, femininity, and social propaganda movements, part war-story Straight from the early 20th century a la the writings of Will R Bird. All angst. Characters: Nikolai Lantsov, Dominik Vertov, Olga Kylov (oc), Will R Bird, Alina Starkov, and others! Pairings: Nikolai x OC. Rating: Mature CW/TWs: War, mentions of extreme violence, universe typical prejudices, heavy discussions of religion. Later chapters go into period typical sexism of the late Victorian period, and share cases similar to that of the Red Army's female soldiers of ww2.

Chapter List. 1. Over There

[inevitablysomber-dark]

To Fall Apart 1

TwoShot

Dark! Alpha! Rafe x Omega! Kiara 

Warnings: Just Light Manipulation

There will be two Chapters, and the second chapter will contain more unhinged elements.

Part 2

@sage1998c

Kie

2 Alpha’s and 3 Beta’s walk into a Chateau. 

What you don’t know is that one of those Betas is a fraud.

The boys move ahead stepping into the well known Pogue residence, JJ placing John B in a headlock, playfully rubbing his noggin, as Pope, Sarah, and I follow closely behind, and if you couldn’t guess, I’m the imposter.

The cut in Outer Banks is full of late bloomers, who’s bodies take time to present a designation. It could be the poor living conditions or lack of resources, maybe even the abusive conditions that many of the family’s tend to go through. 

But one thing is for sure, that when one person’s designation is eventually unveiled, everyone around them who is at least 16 years old, without a designation falls right behind, like a domino effect. 

This is most definitely an outlier when it comes to the world of designations, yet rarely anyone, scientist, or government facility, comes around to study the phenomena. 

Within this anomaly , our little group was no different. JJ, surprisingly enough, was the first to turn, as an Alpha, no less. I always thought if anyone were to be an Alpha it would be John B, but no, there he was turned right after JJ , presenting as a Beta. Next was Sarah, who to no surprise turned out to be an Alpha, then eventually Pope, exhibiting as a Beta.

I was the last to turn, expecting to be a Beta, like my friends, my family, and the majority of people in my community.. 

Imagine my surprise when I woke up the next morning drenched in sweat, and desperation, with a mom who knew exactly what to do. She kept me out of public for several weeks, telling my friends that I was ill, so she had enough time to get ‘special supplements’ to resist my Omega hormones, which had a double effect of presenting me as a Beta. 

I didn’t understand, How this could happen, I always thought designations were in your genes. Then my mother explained her paternal great-grandmother was an Omega. The family never thought that the gene would resurface, at least not any time soon, because it was considered a recessive gene. 

Sarah was the first to find out, sneaking in through my window to feed me some chicken soup. I made her promise not to tell anyone, for fear of how differently I might be treated if it did come out. She insisted that the boys would never treat me differently, but kept her promise nonetheless, understanding the plight of Omega’s in Outer Banks. 

Omega’s weren’t necessarily treated terribly in Outer banks, but there’s most definitely  a difference in treatment compared to the other designations, a treatment neither my parents or I had an interest in taking part in, so we essentially did what we had to do. 

And it worked, for a long while too. 

I made it through highschool and my first two years of adulthood before shit hit the fan. 

It’s important to note, that without Sarah by my side, I probably would have been found out as soon as I reentered society. You see Alpha’s react whenever and Omega is near, some can keep it under control, others need a little extra help to keep their hormones in check. It was a lot of trial and error trying to figure out the most optimal times to retake my supplements, and once I got the kinks out, I realized I had to take into account the irregularities of my daily life, regardless of how rare.  Those were much more difficult to keep track of because of how erratic my friend group was. 

If I thought I would be out for 3 hrs there was a chance that I could be out for 7. If you took more than one supplement, in a specific time period you could end up with a kidney infection… or worse. The supplements only came in tablet form, so if I got wet, I had to hope that the water didn’t get into any baggies or pill boxes that I had them hiding in. And let's not forget the time we all ended up stuck on a neighboring island for over 12 hours, I barely made it back home in time, and was basically out of commission for 2 days. 

But throughout all of this, I’d managed to anticipate and prepare for any and everything that came my way. 

Except one. 

The  Cameron household decided to hold a party for Wheezie, the youngest, being the first to present amongst her group of friends, and as an Alpha, how nice. 

I only expected to be at the party for a few hours, but I did bring a supplement just in case my friends tried to convince me to stay a bit longer. I had no intention of getting in the water, and I only wanted to party and have a few drinks. 

Sure enough though I did end up staying longer than I intended, but that was fine because I had my supplement available to me. 

But I didn’t. 

I went upstairs to Sarah’s room, where I had left my bag, I could feel the effects of the previous dose wearing off. From the tingling on the back of my neck to the goosebumps raising on my arms. 

As I look through my bag, my supplements are nowhere to be found, I dump the contents onto Sarah’s bed as I sift through all my things and they’re nowhere to be found, I start to freak out. 

I’m at a party filled to the brim with Alpha’s and Beta’s and maybe 2 other Omega’s hiding away in a closet somewhere, and my supplements are missing, and  I could’ve sworn I had them packed. 

“Something wrong?”

I look up to find Rafe leaning against Sarah's doorway, arms crossed, and staring me down.

“I’m fine.” my voice cracks. 

Like the other Cameron children Rafe was an Alpha, last to turn within his group of friends, but the only one of his designation amongst them. The day Rafe turned was the day he made it his mission to truly terrorize our little group. 

Once JJ and Sarah turned, he backed off a bit. I guess there was a conflict between territories, but it was free reign whenever he caught one of us alone. 

“Really? Cause you look like you’re about to freak out… Did you lose something?” he removes himself from the room, walking toward my direction, I take a step back trying to keep some distance between us. 

It was only a matter of time before my pheromones burst from their suppressed state, notifying everyone in the building that there was an unhinged Omega in the vicinity. And I struggled to keep myself together, as I felt my sweat leaking through my pores. 

He had a smirk on his face, as if he was privy to information he found amusing. 

“Rafe!” Sarah shrieks from across the room, and you both turn toward her direction. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” she yells.

“I think Kie lost something, I was trying to see if she needed a bit of help finding it.” his tone didn’t sound genuine at all, in fact he sounded sneaky. 

“Well, get out.” She grabs his shirt and pulls him out immediately, slamming the door in his face in the process. 

“Are you ok?” She immediately turns back to me.

I drop to the ground freaking out as I push my hands into my face. “No!” Sarah rushed to my side trying to comfort me but not before hesitating for  a moment in realization of what the problem was. “I’m running out of time and I can't find my medicine.”

“Ok, ok umm, just stay in here.” I sniffle as I look up at her. “Yea, when the party's over, we’ll have you out and home by morning,” she paused before looking over to me for confirmation “Deal?”

I nod, but then I remember  “What about Rafe?”

I couldn’t risk him coming back for part 2. 

“We’ll lock the door,” she pulls me up and moves me to the bed. “He doesn’t have access to my room, I promise you’ll be safe.” 

She starts putting my things back into my purse. “ I’ll find some excuse for the guys, and you can just stay over for the night till we have this figured out. Ok!” she puts my bag down onto her nightstand before facing my direction.

I nod feeling helpless at the situation. 

“You’ll be fine, just lay down and get some rest.”

I lay my head on her pillow facing the door, as she walks out, repeating, that I’ll be fine. I hear the soft click of the door as she closes it, indicating that it had been locked and sighed a breath of relief. 

How could this happen?

I know I put a pill in a baggie and put it in my bag, where could it have gone. For a split moment an image of Rafe flashes through my mind, and I thought that maybe he might have something to do with it. 

But that was impossible, even if he did go through my things and found the pill, how would he know what it was for anyways,.

I close my eyes, deciding to rest as I allowed the natural pheromones of my designation to rome, and I’m able to drown in a temporary moment of peace. 

That is until I hear footsteps, moving towards me, I open my eyes and find a shadow right outside of Sarah’s door. When the doorknob turned my instincts immediately told me to run. 

I quickly jump up and move toward the window. 

I couldn’t stay here, every cell in my body was telling me that I wasn’t safe. I did my best to quietly climb out of the window, and luckily for me, Sarah’s window led out to the driveway, and no one was around to watch me flee for my life. 

I couldn’t stay here, even if the alternative was walking all the way home, I knew I wasn’t safe at the Cameron household.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Alejandro balde nsfw alphabet smut

A to Z. NSFW alphabet

—Alejandro Balde.

summary: request.

warnings: YES. +18. smut, explicit content, headcanon.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

He's pretty quick to fall asleep, as long as he makes sure that everything is okay, that you feel good and are satisfied, he won't take long to cuddle you and fall asleep like a teddy bear.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

In him, he doesn't have a favorite part because he doesn't need it. He is very sure of himself. On you, he would definitely go for your smooth ass and your contoured hips, he loves to see them move.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

Outside of you, on your belly or thighs. He likes to be dirty and mark you with his cum all over, although if you ask him to, he'll come inside you while you're on the pill or using birth control.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

He would like to taste your ass if you ever let him. Maybe later on when you move forward with your relationship and you trust him 100%, he would definitely bring it to the table and tell you.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Normal experience, enough for someone his age. Oral, masturbation, fingering, foreplay, teasing and definitely the best sex.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

As I said before, any position where I can see your ass. Doggy style, on your back, against the wall, reverse cowboy.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

He's not that serious, he likes to play with you a little more as long as you're having fun and he's not annoying. But once he has your full attention he is more serious.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

Maybe he has a bit of hair, thinks it makes him manly and is not prejudiced about it. Much less about you, to each his/her own, whatever he/she feels comfortable and confident with.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

Wild and sloppy. Likes to do it hard and non-stop, intense and dirty. Although he can be romantic but he is not a quiet person in bed.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

Yeah, maybe a little more than he'd like. He's very hormonal and young, so he doesn't have a problem with that either. He obviously prefers you but he understands that there are times when you don't want to or can't do it and he'll take care of himself.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Putting his fingers in your mouth is his hottest fetish. Seeing you so full with his fingers, your tongue sucking on them and your stifled moans is his favorite experience.

L - location (places to have sex)

Honestly, Alejandro would fuck you anywhere. Literally anywhere. In the room, bathroom, car, other people's house, patio, hotels, beach, pool, any place is suitable to fuck you.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

That you walk around the thing with no underwear on, whether it's panties or a bra, it turns him on a lot. Climbing on his thighs or fondling his chest also tends to turn him on quite a bit.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

He's quite jealous, so he would never share you with anyone else. No boy, no girl. You are his and no one else's.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He has no problem with giving but loves your mouth too much, is obsessed with your blowjobs and definitely likes to get more from you. That's not to say he doesn't give oral to you, he's also very good with his tongue.

P - pace (how do he like to do it?)

He likes to do it hard, erratic and non-stop. He's a wild man who won't stop until he feels you deep inside him.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

He has no problem with them. In fact sometimes it really helps him release stress and if you both come, he doesn't care how long it takes.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

Definitely. Fucking you in the car, in a parking lot or public place is one of his best fantasies. He's not afraid of getting caught, they're young and everyone has done it once, they shouldn't be ashamed to love each other.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Two to three rounds as much. When you don't see each other for a long time it could be even longer.

T - toy (use toys)

Don't usually use them but would like to implement some like handcuffs, anything that holds you for him. He doesn't think he'll be able to use anything else like dildos or vibrators, he'd feel somewhat abandoned and simply prefers to go with the normal, meaning his cock, fingers or mouth.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Too much. Alejandro is a pretty playful person and likes to provoke you to the point that you end up begging for it.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

He's not that loud but he does let out a moan or two from time to time. Although he does talk a lot in sex, mostly dirty.

W - wild card (small random story)

Your back slammed against the door of his apartment when you managed to get in after your outing with friends. Your boyfriend's lips kept biting and licking your neck while your mouth let out desperate moans, his hands wrapped around your round breasts squeezing them and your crotch burned. Alejandro had been teasing you all night, caressing your thighs under the table while you pretended to listen to the boys, his fingers caressed your panties and then he would pull away, cross his hands behind your leg hugging you and pulling you close to him to whisper not at all innocent things he would do to you and your core kept getting hotter. Even in the car he had tried to touch you but you had refused, telling him to turn his attention to the road.

You had finally made it home and already you wanted him to rip the dress off your body and fuck you like he should. The dress was wrapped around your belly, your breasts loose for him and your crotch naked after he ripped off your thong. His hands take your hips and he presses down on them, turning you over your body, your face is pressed against the wall and he grabs your ass, smacking hard on your cheek. A scream escapes your lips but is covered by a moan as his cock slides inside you. Deep and hard inside you. A gasp escapes Alejandro's lips when your walls receive him and squeeze inside you.

"That's it, baby. Take daddy's cock" he gasps as he begins to pound hard against your hole.

Moans become music to his ears as he pounds inside you and his hands pat your buttocks, leaving them scarred with his fingers.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?)

BIG. It's unbelievable, like you've never seen before. Long, thick and veiny. Sometimes so big it's scary.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?)

He is quite a sexual person so his desire is constant, so be prepared for a hot Alejandro 24/7.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

As I said at the beginning, he is pretty quick to fall asleep but not before he has checked you and checked that everything is ok. He likes to cuddle up behind you, smell your hair and will quickly fall asleep after his lovemaking session.

[sweettoothvn]

I ended up going on a tangent in a server about the yandere types so here are more detailed explanations.

Also for context: When i say 'they/them/their' im referring to MC/You/love interest, etc

Since this IS yandere i will give some TW// Mentions of Self-Harm, Severe Manipulation, Stalking, Stealing, Delusions, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Violence, Mental/Physical Abuse, Mentions of sexual content.

Kieran

a lot of his songs are about his love interest, people arent liking the new lovey dovey shit too much tho. Eventually he moves back to his regular music but keeps writing songs about them, realizing it's only appropriate for them to hear. He collects hair accessories from his love interest along with makeup products. Sometimes he likes to use the lipstick/chapstick/lip gloss that they use. In terms of possessiveness he is very clingy around them. He hates it when others look at them or even try to touch them. Considering his wealth he definitely spoils them a lot, mostly with food though. And lingerie. Lots of lingerie. As for sex he's very hesitant about it at first, quite anxious actually. Once alone with his love interest, when they finally get together too, he allows them to be out and about, showing off to the world who they belong to and who they will never leave. Not like they could if they wanted to of course, Kieran could absolutely destroy their life until they come crawling back to him. And nobody wants that right?

Eddie

he uses his knowledge in hunting to make his love interest feel like a caged animal. Sure they dont want to talk to him or even look at him considering what he's done but they'll learn to accept it. Won't they? He's not hesitant on harming them if need be, whatever it takes after all. When first meeting him he's pretty quiet, just watching innocently and barely talking to them. If they start talking with him- or rather at him- he's keen on listening intently, watching their lips as they speak. He definitely starts taking care of himself more to make himself look more appealing to them as well. Of course once his love interest is in his own hands, he takes it upon himself to make sure they are a permanent resident in a small cabin in the middle of no where. The beautiful woods now littered with traps galore, there's no hope for salvation if you're looking for it. Unless you're looking to find it in Eddie of course, considering he is the only person you're around and in his words, the only one you'll ever need.

Andre

he's definitely more sociable with his love interest than normal. 'Coincidentally' running into them in public every single fucking day. He's terribly clingy and touchy, wrapping an arm around their shoulders or grabbing their hand. The pet names are relentless. When they arent looking, he's silently threatening the people around them that seem interested in his love interest. They definitely dont want to fuck with him, he could ruin their food supplies so easily, only providing bad crops until they back off. Theyre so hungry they either eat the crops or back off. Hes pretty controlling once he gets his hands on his love interest. Keeping them home and trying to make it seem like the world is awful without him. His security systems are intense and difficult to bypass. For once Chrys could never fathom getting through them theyre so complex.

Zach

their medication has been acting odd lately. Is it Zach's fault. Definitely. Their mind is malleable now and theyre barely able to control their own body as they feel so loopy. Constantly high off of whatever Zach is lacing in their pills. This makes it easier for him to mold them into what he wants them to believe. Only then will he allow them to ween off the drugs he had plagued their system with. As for keepsakes its definitely hair-? He makes... dolls with them... Considering he's a Franix he's definitely feeding off of his love interest frequently. Not enough to kill them but enough to keep them weak. It doesnt matter what their blood type is, it will always be so sweet to him.

Casey

he appears to be as innocent as he usually is. Smiling, giggling, sociable as ever. He was everyone's favorite but when he saw his love interest he wanted nothing but them. He didn't care about anyone else. At that point when he spoke to other people it was to keep his reputation up. Pretend to be the giggly fun loving dork everyone knew. Slowly but surely he would make sure to isolate his love interest. He made sure people felt uncomfortable around them, spreading rumors and using his abilities to change people's moods everytime their name was brought up. Until they broke and reached out to him for comfort. Every time they would cry he would make them feel better, alleviate the pain, training them to rely on him like they were some sort of pet. His favorite item to collect would be t-shirt or jackets, playing them off as items he found when thrifting. He wanted his scent to be combined with theirs. He's not the kidnapping type but he will definitely make sure to cause scenes when his partner seems to pay attention to other people besides him. It'll start off as small panic attacks, to full on mental breakdowns until his partner realizes it's probably best to just stay by Casey's side. Don't even breathe near another person, it's not worth it.

Chrys

Charming as ever, she manages to coax her love interest like a fly trap does with- well- flies. Her smile being the nectar they thought they needed. She makes them feel safe and loved, a feeling they thought they'd never had in their life before… at least no to this degree. Around them is constant danger, people disappearing, cars crashing, sometimes when they're just minding their own business they nearly get crushed by falling debris from construction sights. However that all is washed away when they're near Chrys.. She was like their good luck charm, a safety bubble they couldn't be without. In reality, however, Chrys simply used her hacking knowledge to mess with traffic lights and construction equipment in the Intrepid. As for the missing people? Well you'd have to take a closer look at her greenhouse for that. Using aphrodisiacs and other pheromones and spores that her plants produce, she creates intense positive feelings in her love interest as she laces their food or drink with those chemicals. Her favorite item to collect is definitely articles of clothing. She knew she was small and hoped that they would be aroused to see their piece of clothing barely fitting on her small body. She would act innocently, confident that it would fit if they 'helped' her. Of course she's going to keep her love interest in a small cottage in a heavily forested area too. Sure there will be a town nearby, but she can just control the forest to make it morph into a maze, they can never leave after all. Why would they? When all they need is right here at home with her.

David

He's pretty much the same on the outside, at least. Typical tsundere and anger issues. However he's not so reliant on alcohol as normal David. Rather he finds his love interest to be his special drug. Their scent, the way they hold themselves, how they dress, their voice. God does he just love their voice. He could listen to it for hours. May it be them simply talking, singing, laughing, crying, yelling, screaming. He just wants to hear it. Some things he loves to collect, mainly sweaters, any drawings or books they've touched. He keeps a large list of books they enjoy, may that be comics, graphic novels, yaoi, whatever they consume that is considered literature really. Once he has his love interest in his grasps, he becomes very manipulative. A slow process of making them think they only need him and that he is their safety and he will protect them from anything and everything. He isn't violent towards them or anyone he is jealous of, that's not very civilized after all. He would prefer to slowly and meticulously destroy his opponents until they harm themselves.

[asherlockstudy]

I don't know why they would think people wouldn't watch their content on the R&L channel on purpose just to punish them... it doesn't make sense because, it's not like they changed anything in GMM in order to make the new videos, and we are still getting the same quality, so why would people want to punish them... It's a pretty odd thing to say about your fanbase, because a fan being indifferent about something is one thing, but punishment implies an intentional grievance. There are so many other reasons why the new things don't resonate as widely, and like you said, a huge part of their audience watches for the food content. Or because GMM has a reactive, spontaneous and immediate effect in its format that the scripted videos don't have. GMM videos are more like having someone's company because of their daily recurrence and familiar format, and this could be a source of comfort-viewing for people. Scripted videos don't have that immediate comfort-inducing effect. And the fact that they're on a separate channel might also be a reason. Even if it's just a button push, there might be people who don't want to engage with something away from the tried and true format of GMM. It's a pity for R&L because they often said they feel almost as guests in GMM nowadays, and their true creativity comes out in these sides projects, and it must be a bitter pill to swallow that what they deem as the lesser of their content, talent-wise, is more popular. I guess maybe more people like them as public personalities who do wacky stuff, than story tellers or movie makers? And maybe that was what they wanted to gauge about the audience with Wonderhole, and maybe the question they needed answered was to see if people would warm up to the idea of what they really want to create (and perhaps a future that involves slowly moving away from GMM and doing more stuff on the R&L channel). And if that was their intent with Wonderhole it's also a blow to those of us who though they were looking for an altogether different answer... ^^;

The punishment thing, this is the word I used by the way, Rhett just spoke about “contrarian” fans but also he implied that promoting a lot might get to people’s nerves and ultimately I think it’s the same thing.

I love GMM with all my heart but I wouldn’t mind it being a few times per week if that made it possible to also get content in the Rhett and Link channel. Actually my favourite content has been the vlogs they did around the time of the pandemic but they HATED those and I really wonder why. I don’t see them doing much scripted content in the future either. It’s been way too long this type of content underperforms and eventually I fear they might give up.

In any case, I don’t see me getting what I want lol

As for the “question”, I was thinking about it lately. But then I remembered some other things and I was re-convinced it can’t ONLY be about the content. It’s definitely a lot that is at stake, no matter what is implied plot-wise in Wonderhole, the risks and initiatives regarding strictly their career definitely still apply regardless. They have a lot of questions apparently 😅

It’s not always about what may be going on between them, for example the Cloud and the upcoming Ben ones are 99% not linked to the One Story.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that Wonderhole is probably not going to be THE medium where any big announcement (as heralded in the first episode) will take place but maybe it will once more strongly imply it in the last two episodes.

By the way I am curious what the announcement next week is going to be. I know it won’t be THAT, but still curious.

[awkwardgtace]

Guardian au Lore Drop

Three public classes of guardians

9ft-150: Giant

150-250: Titan

250-400: Colossus

Private classes may or may not exist above 400

Media inspired classification of Kaiju

Media is guardians fighting monsters inspired by the larger fauna on the planet

Senses

Some have improved senses

Better scent, sight, hearing

More sensitive touch and taste

Some keep base senses

Degree of struggle interacting with human sized people varies

Receive more training and usually have aids to help with hearing and sight

No rule for when the senses are better. Could be someone 30ft tall with vastly greater senses or 400ft tall with senses equivalent to average human

Guardians have specific roles in society

Giant

Construction in the human size cities

Gathering materials near and around human size things

Mediation between the average human sized person and other guardians. This is especially common for a max height giant class in regards to any colossus class

Titans

They have better strength on average which leads to more physical roles in relation to all sizes.

Manage food for society. This is mostly processing and shipping it.

Go out to clear dangerous fauna and flora from areas near cities

Construction for housing for guardians. Yes, even colossus class houses.

Mining and such in farther locations from human cities.

Some work as peacekeepers usually partnered with a colossus when possible.

Colossus

Usually go out hunting for larger size species to help supply food for titans and colossus classes.

They keep farms with crops of varying sizes. Sometimes titan or giant class guardians will be recruited to help with harvesting. Technology has made it easier for the most part where most farms are run by one single colossus guardian.

Largest ones with ties to average sized humans are often placed in a sort of peace keeper role. Not everyone is going to play nice once they’re bigger.

Kyrie takes on a peacekeeper role in the biggest human settlement. He has an older partner to handle interactions with most average humans. (it’s byssal and byssal is a minimum size Titan class so 150ft)

Exceedingly rare. Most often it seems there’s a set amount of colossus class at any time. This means that if there’s a new one, another has most likely died.

Anyone taller than 330 is exceedingly rare. Kyrie is 360 still. He a tall boy

History

Humans were one of the smallest creatures on a planet built for roughly the three sizes (some areas are bigger)

Eventually some humans started to grow bigger and showed intense protective instincts over others

They were called guardians and treated like a gift from the gods

As time passed humanity understood more and that it wasn’t the gods, but general genetics

Something sort of unlocked in the ones who grew to make them big full understanding is lacking even at the time of our story

Government knows a lot more than the general public is told. Some information would cause panic if widespread.

Government information Melody has learned and shouldn’t know

Guardians actually can’t remember their life at a normal size without being that size frequently. They’ll see all memories proportionate to their current size and won’t even register a problem unless actively focusing on it

The government sees Kyrie as a threat and most of the tests for a better medicine are finding ones that will debilitate him enough to capture if he becomes dangerous

The size altering medication only works when ingested as a pill. Any other form will at best make the guardian a little dazed

The ones who suffer pain when taking the medication are actually resistant to its effects. When Kyrie takes it if he wanted to fight it he could easily maintain his size. Kyrie is unaware of this, but Melody has said she knows he’d be his real size again if there was ever any danger around so she isn’t worried when he takes it. Melody hasn’t told him the truth because she knows him well. If Kyrie knew he’d take it and avoid her which is worse than taking it and seeing him in pain. At least she can help soothe his pain when he lets her be close to him.

Guardians struggle to see themselves as humans. This causes some to take horrible turns of personality. Also the reason they see Kyrie as such a threat. They don’t have any nearby colossus class who could fight him if he changes.

Common jobs for normal humans to work with guardians

General tech management and development (original goal for Melody until her internship and finding out Kyrie changed)

Relations between guardians and average humans. (Current job where she works from home a lot. Sort of like a mediator. There are times she physically goes to locations that have been having issues. Also Kyrie’s original job goal.)

Some average humans partner with peacekeepers to be a kind of go between and to draw out problems that are pretty big

There is a police force that’s sort of an extension to peacekeepers that comprises mainly giants and average humans. Peacekeepers are called in when the police can’t handle it.