#sorry i don't have anything better to add

[plasticferal]

okay so i have a little matt sturniolo request 😚

Basically the reader and matt are best friends and they’re both chilling in matts bed and the reader mentions that she has bad period cramps so matt offers to help her out (makes her 0rg@sm). i’m not sure if that’s too crazy or anything but thank you in advance if you happen to write it :)

kiss it better | matt sturniolo.

authors note: this might not be everyone's thing, it's only a little freaky, but that's what we're here for, right? consider this an apology for disappearing.

warnings: fem!reader, period, slight mention of blood, masturbation, explicit language.

matt has been fast asleep beside you since the sun went down. well, you assumed asleep. he's woken up without your knowledge at least five times due to you tossing and turning.

the sun is starting to peak through his closes blinds, and you're tangled in the sheets trying to get comfortable. you're on your final tether, about to fling up from the mattress when suddenly matt's arm drapes over your stomach, pinning you down.

"please, don't get up" he grumbles, hair covering his eyes, face nuzzled into his own pillow.

"matt," you wince, pulling his arm from where it's putting pressure on, only making it hurt more.

that action alone quickly makes him sit up, still half asleep, rubbing his eyes with concern. first that you didn't call him matty, and second that you sound anguished.

"cramps" is all you let out before curling your body into itself.

"is that why you've kept me up?"

“i’m sorry” you whine, sounding like you’re about to cry, but the tone is coming from your discomfort.

“i was teasing, y/n. i’m sorry” matt sits up as you lay next to him, and gently starts caressing the crown of your head.

he usually plays with your hair whenever he’s in distress, so it being a way of comforting you is a change. matt isn’t touchy feely with anyone beside you.

"want me to kiss it better?" he adds, making you chuckle as you melt into your best friends touch.

“that might help, honestly. nothing else is working” you joke back.

matt, however, was not kidding.

“okay” he replies.

he’s watched you take ibuprofen every two hours, use a heat pack, support yourself with a pillow, contort yourself into unbelievable positions trying to get situated in a spot that makes you ache less. so, if this is the last resort, he’s not taking it lightly.

“what?” you look up at him through your eyelashes, playing with the loose threads of his burgundy silk sheets.

“i will” he reassures.

he shuffles his body further down the bed, sliding past yours. his palm rests on the curve of your knee, over the sheets, and pushes it down, forcing you to lay flat.

“if that’s okay with you” he glides down further, stomach pressed to the mattress as his face nears your stomach.

“i hate seeing you in pain” he adds on.

your lack of rebuttal isn’t enough of a green light, so he looks up at you from your hip, gently grazing the tips of his fingers on the hem of your shirt.

it could be the hormones, but any touch at all from matt feels unorthodox in this moment. you’re clenching through your sweatpants, chills covering your body.

a wave of insecurity rushes over you. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before, but he hasn’t truly seen you. every emotion and feeling is heightened as you nod, and he lifts up your shirt exposing your naval.

“right here?” he grins, and your chest is rising and falling with worn, deep breaths.

“right there” you watch him intently.

“m’kay” he lowers his mouth onto your exposed skin.

his lips are warm as he presses a slow, short kiss just below your bellybutton. you’re almost positive he can feel the goosebumps rising. he trails another kiss along your lower stomach, narrowly edging your pelvic lines.

unintentionally, your breath hitches, making a small gasp part your lips.

“y’like that, huh?” matt perks up, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“get back up here, oh my god” you erupt into laughter, trying to conceal any hint of shame.

“alright alright” he mumbles almost disgruntled, pushing himself up like he’s doing a push up then dropping back to your side.

“did that help, pumpkin? does your tummy feel better?” he teases, scooting closer to you and taking your head on his lap, so you can use his lower half like a body pillow to curl into.

you slap his leg, telling him to stop being such a smartass.

“it does not, but thank you for trying” you tiredly exhale a yawn, and he starts rubbing the back your neck comfortingly.

“so, what will actually help?” you can envision the sincere concentration on his face when he asks, all the curiosities running through his mind about what’s going on in your body.

matthew doesn’t believe that curiosity killed the cat, he's adamant ignorance did. meaning, he’s on a need-to-know basis for everything about you. anyone else, he couldn’t care less.

“well actually, what you were doing, but, ah” you ramble.

“but?” he pushes.

“but… lower?” you grimace at your choice of words, feeling matt almost stop breathing under you.

“oh” he speak in a “ah-huh” tone.

“maybe not exactly that, but along those lines” you continue.

“d-did you want me to, keep goin-”

“matthew!” you almost screech, sitting up abruptly with shock painted on your face.

“what? you suggested it!” he throws his arms in defence.

“you asked me a question!” you throw back.

“yeah okay and, y’know, you implied…”

“oh no” you shove your hands in your face, then into the pillow, hoping to suffocate in the process.

you could vanish at the thought of looking him in the eye again.

“hey now, don’t be silly” matt grabs your wrists in his strong, much stronger, grasp, restricting you from hiding again.

“i was just trying to educate you” you frown, and he scoffs.

“i’m more of a hands-on learner” he flashes a cocky grin and narrowed eyes, playing into your humiliation.

your jaw slacks open, dumbfounded by his blasé demeanour.

“you wouldn’t know what to do if it was served to you on a silver platter” you wrestle in his grip, and it’s officially war.

“take that back” his eyes are laser focused on yours now, and you’re trying not to crack a smile.

“no” you refuse.

matt grabs your wrists, using his legs to flip you over. he straddles your thighs, pinning you down.

“let me show you then” he sounds slightly out of breath, licking his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

“even if i wanted to entertain that idea, i’m still on my period, in case you forgot”

“what’s the point of having a sword if you can’t get a little blood on it?”

“matthew bernard, that was foul” you kick his stomach lightly, just enough to tackle him out of keeping you held down.

you grab a pillow and start to pelt him with it, and he’s erupting into laughter.

“okay, okay! enough, i’m sorry” he takes control of the pillow and tosses it across the room, knocking into a framed photo on the wall, but he doesn’t care. he’s fixated on you.

“there’s gotta be something we can do to settle this” he adds on as you admit defeat.

"what are you willing to do?" you scrunch your face.

"whatever you want"

your mind has been made up. you sit cross legged next to him, huffing stray hairs from your eyes, probably looking a mess.

“there is one way i can think of” you ponder, trying to see if he’s being serious or just shit-stirring. if he wants to play with your feelings, now is not the time.

“if it’s gonna help you, i will” matt leans against his headboard, putting the ball in your court.

you crawl, slowly, once again next to matt. you mirror his positioning, perched up against the headboard, shoulder to shoulder with him. your breathing slows, and matt raises an eyebrows. he's waiting for you.

“if you mean it, give me your hand” you put your own out, and wait for him to take it.

almost too quickly, he does. you envelop his warm, thick fingers in yours and guide his hand between your legs, over your sweatpants. you can hear matt's breath more prominent in your ear, as his jaw slacks open, and eyes follow your guidance.

he presses his palm into your crotch, and curls his fingers as though to penetrate but is restricted by the fabric. you're trying to be tame, but you feel yourself building up with pressure with every passing second.

"this is gonna work?" matt's voice is soft, curious.

"rub" you exhale sharply, and matt's chin is now resting on your shoulder to get a better position.

he obeys within a second, and focuses on moving the fabric in circles as you jive your hips to sync up with him. you know with the friction alone, and concentrating hard enough, you could probably build up an orgasm.

matt's breath shudders as his index and middle finger manoeuvre around your clothed cunt, trying to wiggle your panties underneath to feel between your slit.

he can tell by the way your eyes flutter shut, that you're relying solely on your own focus to make his touch worth it.

matt stops, making your eyes flash open, but his hand doesn't move very far. he begins to slide underneath your sweatpants, and you're inches away from aborting mission.

"let me, y/n” he persists, using his free hand to wrap around your waist and keep you in place.

“matty, we're gonna make a mess” you worry, but there's not a care in the world from the boy beside you.

“shut up" he breathes out, inching closer to your heat.

he slides under your panties, and your eyes shut again, trying to completely detach. even though you're not bleeding heavy enough, yet, you know how unpredictable it can be.

your muscles tense the second he makes contact between your folds, rubbing gently. you're soaked, clit throbbing, and clenching your walls with a pulsating rhythm.

matt digs his fingers into your hip more, and you're wondering if he's truly getting any enjoyment out of pleasuring you.

the tips of fingers between your legs hover over your entry, and you're clawing into the sheets.

"can i?" matt's lip brushes the curve of your ear, and you nod. matt pushes his index finger inside of you, using his thumb to circle your sensitive clit.

the moment he thrusts in and out of you, his lips attach at your neck making you jolt in shock. you tilt your head to the side to give him more access as he nips and sucks on your neck.

"keep going?" he asks.

you whimper a yes, and feel him smirk.

fucking his fingers in and out of you at an increasingly rapid pace has you arching your back, forcing matt to go along with your movements, trying to keep up.

"m-matt" you toss your hips, feeling your vulnerability increase, about to shatter.

"fuck" his voice drops an octave, concentration at all time high as he focuses completely on your clit again. he rubs fast, consistent motions over and over and over until the build up becomes undeniable.

"i-i'm gonna" you shake, as matt rubs faster, feeling a burning through your core until finally you release.

"sh-shit" you're a mess, mentally and physically.

you've already forgotten the touch is coming from your best friend, who after this, you're unsure he'll fall under that title. if he even wants to stick around after feeling around your insides and watching you moan his name.

you settle after your high falls while matt gently, slowly, pulls his hand from your pants. you slump against his bed again, regaining your concept of reality while matt grabs tissues from his bedside table and cleans off his fingers.

"so?" he asks, a smugness exuding from one single word.

"i feel better" you sound disoriented, but are overly aware that at any moment he could change his feelings.

"i'm sure you do" he kisses your temple, and you're filled with nerves once again.

"how are you so... calm?" you ask, resting your head onto his shoulder, confining in him still being your safe person, even if the topic of concern is himself.

"i told you i wanted to, y/n" he replies, stern.

"we're just not gonna tell anyone about this" your mouth moves fast.

"no, we're not. but i wouldn't mind doing it again" he shrugs, and you're back to being content, snorting inwardly.

that's when you know, there's no part of him that's strayed from being your best friend. he's all about you. even in this critical, brain chemistry altering event.

maybe except for the fact you can definitely see his dick outlining his grey sweats more prominently than before. but that's a topic for another day.

"you're a freak" you laugh softly.

"for you? yeah"

tag list:

@luverboychris @floofparker  @fake-sturniolos @recklessmatt  @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @whore4mattsturniolo @sturniololuv08 @nickysturnss @slutformatt111 @rootbeerworshiper @st7rnioioss-alt @issysh3ll

[deonsx]

i saw you were taking requests o((>ω< ))o

i hc yukimiya, kaiser, and oliver to have the comfy but stylish fashion sense(lol), can i request them with reader who has a darker style like goth or vkei?

Hiii dear!! firstly in the event i write the characters I will write and unfortunately just kaiser here (I only write characters whose behavior I understand, so I can imagine them, but I don't have enough information about the others sorry(´-ω-`) lets add sae

Kaiser Michael

Kaiser, ever the center of attention with his magnetic charisma and effortlessly stylish flair, strolls confidently through the crowd. By his side is you the striking contrast to his golden aura. Your dark, layered outfit, inspired by a fusion of gothic elegance and visual kei extravagance, turns just as many heads. Your presence radiates mystery, drawing curious glances wherever you walk together

Kaiser grins, adjusting the collar of his jacket as he leans closer to you “I swear, people are staring at us because of me” he teases, his voice dripping with smug amusement “Or maybe they’re just not used to seeing someone as stylish as me with someone so… darkly radiant”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smirking “Or they’re wondering why a golden retriever is trying to keep up with a black panther” The playful jab makes his grin widen “Touché, mein dunkler Stern”

The two of you pause at a stall selling handmade accessories. Kaiser’s eyes gleam as he spots a black lace choker adorned with a silver crescent moon. He picks it up, holding it toward you “This would suit you” he declares with absolute confidence, then adds with a teasing smirk “But you’d look even better wearing something of mine”

You snort, crossing your arms. “You mean like your ego? Sorry, it’s a bit too heavy for my neck”Undeterred, Kaiser steps closer, lowering his voice “Keep talking, and I might just buy it for you anyway. A perfect gift for my perfect little shadow”

The faintest blush creeps up your neck, and you quickly divert your attention to another stall. But Kaiser follows, his laughter soft but triumphant as he takes his place beside you, unfazed by your aloof demeanor

As the night continues, you find yourself grudgingly enjoying his over-the-top compliments and relentless attempts to get a smile from you. By the time you leave, he’s carrying several small items he insisted on buying for you a delicate ring, a black-embroidered scarf and of course the choker

Sae Itoshi

Sae walks in, exuding his usual cool, detached confidence. Dressed in his signature minimalist yet high-end fashion, he glances around with faint disinterest, his sharp eyes scanning the room for anything worthy of his attention. Then he notices you

You stand near a dimly lit display of abstract sculptures, your goth or visual kei-inspired attire making you an arresting contrast to the sterile white walls and muted tones of the gallery. Your layered outfit is a work of art itself dark lace, leather accents, and intricate accessories that seem to tell a story all their own. The black polish on your nails gleams as you hold a glass of wine, your demeanor composed and enigmatic. Sae’s gaze lingers a moment too long

“Interesting taste” he comments, stepping closer. His voice is low and measured, as if he’s assessing the situation with the same precision he brings to the pitch. You glance at him, arching a brow “The art or me?”

He doesn’t flinch at your boldness. Instead, his lips curve ever so slightly a rare hint of amusement “Both, I suppose. Though one of them is harder to read” You tilt your head, intrigued but refusing to let him rattle you. “Let me guess you prefer things simple, minimal, and predictable”

Sae’s smirk grows “Not quite. I just appreciate when something stands out. Like this…” He gestures toward the piece you were studying a sleek, modern sculpture with jagged, chaotic edges “Or you”

You chuckle softly, meeting his intense gaze “Flattery from a guy like you? Color me impressed”Sae shrugs, his tone nonchalant but his eyes sharper than ever “It’s not flattery. Just an observation”

The two of you fall into an easy, if slightly sharp-tongued, conversation. Sae’s reserved demeanor contrasts with your dark, vibrant energy, but neither of you seem fazed. As the evening wears on, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to your unapologetic individuality, while you find his quiet intensity more captivating than you expected

Before the night ends, Sae leans in closer, his voice softer but no less confident “I don’t usually go to these things, but I’m glad I did tonight. You’re… different”

“Different how?” you ask, feigning disinterest but feeling your heart skip a beat. Sae’s gaze locks with yours, his smirk returning “Let’s just say you’re not as predictable as I expected. I’d like to see more of that”

Enjoy!

[bunnakit]

coming outta left field and talking about something that has nothing to do with me bc i don't have anything better to do with my time right now.

that whole fandom discourse was whack and i'm sorry @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles had to deal with that. there's def been plenty of posts i haven't liked or haven't agreed with in fandom and you shrimply just have to scroll! there's no need to make a response unless you're coming from a genuine place and can have a respectful discussion. if you're coming from an emotional place you just have to say "people like different things" and move on.

i personally am not mutuals with shan because we have a lot of different opinions about things - this is not a dig at shan, she doesn't follow me either prob for the same reason! i think she articulates her posts incredibly well and comes from a very genuine place. i don't know turtles that well bc i haven't been in the space much these days but based on what i've seen she seems much the same.

media analysis is and should be vast and varied, that's what makes it fun, and not everyone is going to share your opinion and people will always interpret things differently based on past experiences, differences in knowledge, etc. they aren't evil for that.

this is what i think is one of the most important things from shan's post -

You don't owe anyone your presence here, and you don't have to express opinions on everything or respond to tags or asks if you don't have anything to say. Sometimes you might just want to take a break from posting, some things in the discourse might just flow right on by you, sometimes you will not have a firm opinion on a debate. You can post as much or as little as you want. You can suddenly decide you don't want to talk about a show anymore. You can not log into your tumblr for days or weeks at a time. Do you, boo!

to add to this, and i know this won't be a very well received statement, if you're finding yourself having these big emotional responses just because someone didn't like your fav it may be time to take a step back and reevaluate your priorities in fandom. as someone that took a break from fandom and dramas in general i highly recommend taking a second and finding your peace again. humans are emotional by design, it's what makes us great, but if you're getting violently wound up about someone else's opinion of a fictional piece of media created for entertainment purposes i think it's time to take a deep breath.

fictional media is art and people can and should always have different opinions about art. yes, even art featuring your favs.

i left the fandom for a long time because Last Twilight deeply hurt my feelings as a disabled person with an incurable disease - but that's on me. i'm sure many people found the message an uplifting one of hope (as i believe it was intended to be.) my personal experiences caused me to have a different take on it - but again that is because of my personal experiences and does not make my opinion of it right or wrong, it simply is.

tldr: i think it's important to remember that there are no correct opinions in fandom; if there were they wouldn't be opinions but irrefutable facts. you need to get used to seeing opinions and reads that differ from your own and embrace the art of filtering unless you feel capable of having a calm and respectful discussion.

i wanted to share my thoughts as someone completely unassociated with shan and turtles from a place of complete neutrality. if you're going to have a discussion have a discussion, if you're just gonna rag on someone because they didn't mindlessly jerk off your fav keep it to your group chat or something, don't be a tar pit.

this being said, get used to seeing things even if you try to filter! it's not perfect, i've filtered out spare me your mercy bc i haven't seen it yet and want to form my own opinions but things have absolutely come across my radar (either in my own tags, clicking links, etc.) it happens, don't be weird about it.

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

That moment when all your submissions go down in the first two rounds :(

I'm trying not to be upset, and there are still some songs on here that I hope will win, but it's hard 😔

There have been quite a few upsets, it seems! I'm sure you aren't the only one who's in this boat, since there were a lot of shocked voters in this last round in particular, so at least take comfort in knowing that others are probably just as bummed by some of the results.

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[silusvesuius]

n*loth not being able to bag anyone over the (human term) age of 25-30 at most is the only logical and real conclusion to me because it can be just explained away as him wanting to prove and control everything and anyone (Cus he's a man!) but being stuck in that demographic because his unbearable and vile personality is a force that nobody can look past once they've outgrown the possible fear and idolization period of anyone but also n*loth in particular.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

So let me get this straight. TOTK!Rauru had repeatedly requested that the Gerudo join the ‘protective embrace’ of his kingdom, to serve him. Protection from whom? The monster clans? If anything, the Gerudo seem at the peak of their power! They have some measure of control over the molduga, the fiercest of the desert’s monsters. It’s also established elsewhere that the Secret Stones merely amplify one’s existing power—that one would catapult Ganon to near-unstoppable heights speaks of his already formidable might. With him at the helm, the Gerudo were ready and willing to invade Hyrule. Until Rauru demonstrated a superweapon that quite literally vaporized any notion of a military assault—a superweapon that Rauru (and his cohort) brazenly wears. Ganon is entreating a party wearing nuclear launch codes around their necks! And those aren’t even the only Secret Stones in Rauru’s possession, later handing those out as he sees fit to the Sages. Of course, the narrative portrays Rauru as someone who would never abuse that kind of power—he’s a Good King. But that’s a terrifying Sword of Damocles.

Yep. Pretty much.

Also I'd like to point out that apparently, Rauru's "sin", and what passes off as his character arc (so far, I haven't finished the whole game yet), is that he was too confident that he'd keep Ganondorf under control as a vassal? Like, okay what were the options otherwise? What should he have done that he didn't do? Like in OoT/TP beforehand: was Rauru supposed to simply imprison the king of a foreign nation just because he didn't pass the vibe check --or worse, kill him off? And then what happens to the gerudo? I feel like we've gone down this road before, and it didn't lead anywhere pretty...

This is what I mean about the poor character writing in this game: I think Rauru is supposed to be the emotional core of the story, and he might be the only one with an "arc" so far, but his flaw/regret is... a whole bunch of nothing? Unless you think he should have commited genocide to protect his kingdom from evil, according to the game that refuses to examine his actions/power, there's nothing he should have done differently besides... not having his wife be murdered? That's not a character arc, that's just an unfortunate event you participated in unwillingly!! To make a comparaison that is worth being brought up: the king of Hyrule in BotW worked much better in that regard, because he is indeed partially responsible for the fall of his kingdom through the pressure he inflicted upon his daughter and the prideful belief that he could control a force of nature (Calamity Ganon being treated as such in that game) through technology; both of these attitudes costing him everything, condemning his daughter to a century-long fight and said technology ruling the lands through terror in his stead. As a ghost, he haunts the wreckage waiting for the hero to wake up to try and finally correct his mistakes through Link.

I think they kind of wanted to do that again in TotK, but it extremely doesn't land in my opinion because Rauru has no flaw --beyond, apparently, not being bigoted enough?

[milfbrainrot]

i feel like i type so much more than is reasonable when i do talk to people but i also don't get to socialize a ton so i just have soooo many words in me and if i'm like, tired or short on time, it is so much harder to restrain to the already-pushing-it point i can sometimes manage ;-;

[beeseverywhen]

I mean like. Not to bring the mood down but... you guys know that's because American media is everywhere right? Like the world is unable to avoid some version of American accent on a regular basis. Of course ppl find it easy to mimic. This is absolutely not restricted to ppl in the UK, its really common for ppl who learn English as a foreign language to have perfect 'American actor' accents (cause the reason everyone's so good at the American accent that's expected of them as actors is cause at large there's little distinction between regions in the 'Hollywood accent' that ends up on TV and films and stuff. You guys have massive regional differences in pronounceation, but what makes it on to TV (in 9/10 cases) is a very standardised version of American English.)

But yeah. It's not just actors lol. Most British ppl can speak in a passable american accent, as can loads and loads of people worldwide. I'm not saying this to be like 'you should feel guilty! 😡' but it does always stun me when Americans are unaware of the impact their country has worldwide on all versions of English (and even on use of native languages. Many countries are using English more and more over their native languages and dialects , and yeah, historical colonialism has had an impact there.)

But in the last few decades things have progressed way way faster and that, is thanks to the impact of anglo/american/ect lead capitalism. I'm in no way dismissing the impact the UK has on this, but in recent years, its the US that is largely pushing that train .While the UK and several English speaking commonwealth countries are very involved in this kind of capitalist imperialism, there's a reason that more and more people are speaking American English. Not one of the many UK dialects, not Australian English, or NZ English. Across the world more and more people are increasingly speaking in the same standardised american dialect that's in so much of the media you export. Hollywood based media, with that standardised accent/ dialect and the standardised 'normal american life', has a stranglehold on the world and I just find it crazy that a lot of you guys don't even know.

It's stupid stuff like. So many countries are importing american cars and are widening their roads/ changing town planning to account for it (this is less of a thing in the UK but I see it more and more when I travel). Its the food becoming avaliable everywhere. Its the influence that for profit healthcare has even on countries with socialised health systems. Its houses being built to account for American style appliances. Fashion trends. Worldwide, everything is slowly evolving to be closer and closer to this 'American standard' which honestly? I really don't think actually represents the lives of real American people either. You've been turned in to products, the system has taken an unrealistic snapshot of 'American life' and it's being sold to you all day in day out, but it's also being sold to the rest of us. It's being pushed on us all.

Kids in the UK go through phases of talking only in American accents. Anyone born later than the 90s is carrying round 2 sets of spelling and vocab, cause we're all so used to the American way, that you barely know which one you're using half of the time. In the UK we have always had really strong regional accents yeah, and dialects differ between areas that seem tiny to you guys, I know. But like. Those dialects are being lost cause all UK accents are evolving to become closer to this standardised american and yeah not great, but at least we share a language! US American society is largely rooted in the same foundations as UK society, largely we have the same flaws! But oh my god. What about the rest of the world.

It's global. This impact continues to be seen, steamrollering ahead, in places that had completely different starting points. UK culture isn't that dissimilar to that of the US, so we aren't losing nearly as much as cultures that had something completely different. So much is being lost.

Languages and dialects and everything else is just being wallpapered over so we all meet the same ideal of the 'American life' and it's not even real! It's just a product based on how ppl were actually living in the US, manipulated until it's the most marketable mould. You guys are victims of it as well but like. It's based on your culture so you don't lose as much if you conform to it. Just like how in the UK, if we conform, we lose more than US, but nowhere near as much as countries that had languages, dialects and cultures that were so so different to UK/US culture. The less like the US, your starting point, the more there is to lose.

And look. I said it to start with. I'm not having a go. That's not what this is. But you guys really need to be aware, you need to make an effort to understand the impact that this plastic Hollywood american culture is having on the rest of the world. You need to actively look for it, and make an effort to not pay in to it. Because when Americans see other cultures represented in media and say its not relatable, when you guys go on holiday and make no effort to learn local customs, and try and pay in dollars and spend your time abroad like you're still in America, when you see cultural differences and immediately argue that the American way is better and of course everyone should have giant cars and never dry laundry outdoors and live in American style homes, without any kind of critical thought. Just 'this is how we do it so why wouldn't everyone else do it this way. This is the only way. The American way is obviously best.' When you guys do that you are individually feeding in to this absolute bulldozing of cultures (including American ones!) to allow for better marketability.

It isn't any one individual American citizens fault that things are the way they are, and you guys are victims of the same system, but you need to have some self awareness when it comes to the fact that as individuals you are unknowingly, helping driving this forwards and as individuals, there are things you can do to limit your personal impact (and no arguing that you have no culture is not it!!! Being all self deprecating doesn't do shit. Take some responsibility and accept that individual Americans didn't create this system, but currently, individual Americans really are doing their bit to keep promoting it, to keep pushing it on the rest of the world.

And I've already rambled for an age so I'll stop here but I just want to make clear as an ending note here, that this really isn't about piling on Americans and being all 'boo it's all America's fault. They should apologise. Their culture isn't worth anything.' Not at all this is the opposite of that. The fact that millions of Americans have been convinced you have no culture, all while a mimicry of American culture is plastered on to the rest of the world, and while you as individuals are encouraged to help that happen, often without even realising what you're doing; is a crime. You've been wronged, as have we all.

And America is not the problem. The problem is imperialism and it didn't start with you guys. It started in Europe, and Europeans, particularly British ppl, have a responsibility to push back and be self aware, take some fucking responsibility and not inadvertently keep feeding in to that system, just as you guys do. The US didn't start the fire, imperialist capitalism is a fire that started burning long before the United States was even considered, but its on all of us, to do what we can to not feed that fire. And right now? You guys are the face of it.

This idea of what America is, is the face of imperialistic capitalism, and that means that even if you don't mean to, you guys are feeding that fire more so than the rest of us. You're responsible for spreading it, more so than the rest of us. And if you don't step up and take responsibility, accept that you're gonna get it wrong sometimes and you need to try to do better; if we don't all do that. There will be nothing left. They'll paper over it all, the lives of real Americans just as much as those in Scotland and India and the Netherlands, and 100 other cultures, that are at risk, thanks to this fire, that's currently, largely coming from America.

So yeah. It's absolutely not just on you guys and ppl who act like there's no racism or wealth divide in Europe or anywhere else for that matter are complete idiots, however, this Americanisation of the world (and I hesitate to call it that. Because its not a representation of real American lives. Its simply wearing an American face.) Its real. It's happening.

And we don't tell you about it to make you feel guilty (those of us who aren't dicks at least) ,we are telling you. We are kicking up a fuss. Because it isn't fair. It's not right and while individual Americans ignore that and refuse to take responsibility where they can (small apples. We aren't asking for you to call a violent revolution in our names. Just take some time to learn about the rest of the world. Stop assuming America is always right and examine your biases. When you find them. Stop personally pushing them.) , while that is happening, as individuals, you are contributing to this. It's not even altruism. This system is hurting Americans too. It's hurting us all. All we ask is that you do what you can to not personally contribute, and keep an open mind, be aware. That's all any of us can do.

when a british actor does an american accent everyone’s like “i didn’t even know they were british until they were on colbert.” but when americans do a british accent everyone’s like “they’re supposed to be from east cocksford but their glottal e’s are north dicksford. shameful.”

[repurposedmeatlocker]

Who is using Y2K nostalgiacore to support CP??? 😭

I cannot name specifics simply because I don't remember. I was just describing a commonality I've noticed with a lot of people on here as someone who enjoys and searches out some of those aesthetic visuals on this site.

This is not a sweeping judgement of people who like those aesthetics (again...I do.) nor am I saying they are USING those themes to indoctrinate people into CP (apologies if my wording in the tag was unclear). Simply I was just adding that I've seen some people who like using those aesthetics and talking about the old internet also tend to use language that leans into red flags common with people that support CP and profic.

[medicinemane]

You know what sucks, is that I can finally get my hands on a big enough meal that I can actually enough I might actually get full, keep going till the point where it makes me sick enough I throw up a little (thankfully just like a teaspoon, not the whole thing)... and my stomach's still fucking grinding in hunger even as it's also cramping from having eaten too much

I legit think what's happened is all the years of not managing to eat properly have both put me at such a food deficit it'll take so much more than a normal meal to catch up, while my stomach's also shrunk a bit due to the lack of proper meals

Just kinda sucks, you know?

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[invisible-pink-toast]

#to answer my own question: nobody talks about it because it happened in season five of angel#and nobody watched that far

why does nobody ever talk about angel and spike fighting over the shanshu prophecy?

when spike points out that angel views his soul as a curse, as punishment, as being forced to live with the guilt of everything he's done, whereas spike fought for his soul. nearly died for it. the demon with no soul still wanted to do the right thing, to be a good man, so desperately he would destroy himself for the chance.

and then angel says something VERY interesting to spike. spike says he thinks angel hates him because he's a living reminder of his evil. "cause every time you look at me, you see every dirty little thing i've done. all the lives i've taken. because of you. drusilla sired me, but you made me a monster."

and angel, the man who, without his soul, tortures and kills people sadistically for fun and feasting, the man who insists he is not angelus, says, "i didn’t make you, spike. i just opened up the door and let the real you out."

SUCH an interesting thing to say, angel! let's talk about this. no, please—go on. explain how you are better than spike in any way. i'm fascinated. i'd love to hear how you and angelus are different people but the demon who possessed william the poet is somehow the same as the man.

you can't have it both ways, you horrifically catholic man. you aren't a better person just because you've suffered more.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

friction

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, semi public sex, server!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, workplace romance

“alright.” you clap your hands together. “where is my trainee?”

“hey.” your eyes widen as you take rafe in, his arms crossed over his wide chest, biceps bulging against the sleeves of the uniform polo.

“wh-what?” you take a staggering step back. 

“won't be here long.” rafe says quickly. “just… got in trouble with my dad.” his voice turns softer, but not for your sake, simply for his pride as he looks around.

“and so you had to get a job here of all places?” you question.

“most fitting for punishment. he said if i last two months then he knows i can commit to something.”

“so you're going to be working here… for two months. great.” you try to add some cheer to your voice, but it certainly fails. it was hard enough when rafe would come in to dine at the country club, having to serve alongside him will certainly be hell.

not that he does anything to intentionally upset you, his very presence gets you frustrated. from the second he walked in and you saw him for the first time, your face got hot and flushed and you had to hide in the walk in freezer to cool yourself down.

“so, where do we start?” rafe asks.

you snap out of whatever thoughts you were having. “your section.” you state, the unofficial leader of the servers, having worked at the country club for by far the longest of all the staff, even outranking your current manager in seniority.

--

“rafe, you're at a month and a half, you're so close.” josh says, eyes glancing between the two of you from the other side of the managers desk. “and y/n, you know better than to argue in front of customers.”

josh stands, hands on his hips. “sasha and i are going to take over your sections while you two… work out whatever is going on. just talk it out then get back on the floor.”

he walks out without another word, leaving you in the office alone with rafe.

“you made me look so fucking stupid in front of my regulars.” you grumble. you asked for something very simple. for rafe to bring your table sparkling waters, and he took them tap instead.

“i didn't know.” rafe huffs back, not turning to fully look at you. “sorry, but you still got your fucking tip.”

“just pay attention next time. i know you don't give a shit about this job but some of us need this paycheck to fucking live.”

“alright, i said fucking sorry.”

“alright.”

you both sit in silence, the time stretching out between the two of you. 

“you're still mad.” rafe states.

“im just… frustrated.” you sigh, wishing you could pinpoint why your stomach always tightens when you're around rafe, why no matter how many shifts you work with him he puts you on edge, makes you act different.

“sounds like you could use some-” rafe cuts himself off.

you snap your head towards him. “some what?”

“i was gonna say some dick.” rafe turns his eyes back forward, even though there's nothing to look at but an empty wall.

“some dick couldn't satisfy me, you guys never make me cum.” you say it to upset rafe, hopefully dig into some insecurity he holds, but rafe just smirks.

“i could make you cum. and then we'd both be less frustrated.”

“both?” you question.

“yeah ‘cause you'd get your o and id finally get to fuck you.”

“i guess the only thing stopping us is locking the office door.” 

you both move rapidly, hands meeting at the same time your lips do as you turn the lock and hear the satisfying click of confirmation. rafe instantly presses you against the door, his mouth devouring yours as his body presses in close.

all rational thoughts go out the window. if you were in your right mind, if rafe didn't drive you so crazy, you would never do something so brazen.

rafe reaches down, one hand delving under your assigned polo shirt while the other grips your ass.

you moan against his lips as his hand covers your bra, fingers quickly pushing the material out of the way to get at your nipple, his palm rubbing against you so perfectly you have no doubt in your mind of how skilled rafe is.

“fuck.” you gasp when his hand gripping your bum moves, somehow managing to get your belt off as he pulls it away, undoing your slacks to reach into your underwear.

he finds your clit and taps at it, teasingly, but with just enough constant stimulation to keep you from crying out as you kiss him, pulling back only to look at his face, the way his eyes have dropped and darkened with pleasure, his mouth pink and wet from your kisses.

“don't stop.” his voice is grisly as he begs, and you lean in and continue to kiss, tongue pushing into rafes mouth and taking dominance, but it's all for naught as his finger on your clit so effortlessly controls your entire body, reading your reactions and what you like most as he rubs and touches.

“need you shirtless.” you tell rafe, tugging at his collar. “take it off.”

rafe doesn't want to pull away, it doesn't seem worth it, but instead of continuing to kiss him, you pull his collar more until he has no choice but to unmold himself from your body and take a step back to toss off his shirt, watching as you do the same, revealing one cup of your bra pushed down to reveal your pert nipple.

rafe moves quick to press his lips against your breast, hands working to undo your bra before he's back inside your pants, circling around your entrance and spreading your wetness up to your clit before continuing to rub, hearing your soft moans and whimpers as he switches to your other breast.

“need your cock.” you beg, but rafe isn't ready yet. he knows it will be the ultimate end to your mutual suffering that was just used to hide your bodies attraction, sexual frustration boiling over.

as much as rafe likes sucking your nipple into his mouth and feeling how warm and soft your skin is, he's desperate to move back to your mouth and swallow more of your moans, not so they don't get heard by your coworkers, but so they can become his and his alone.

“on the desk.” rafe pulls away, and a devious smile comes to your lips, knowing you're about to get what you want.

you push your pants and underwear down your hips in one go as you sit on the desk, glad josh keeps everything clear and clean as you spread your legs, rafes eyes dropping to your pussy.

you chuckle as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, but he doesn't have time for a taste as his hands begin to work on his own clothing until rafe is just as naked as you.

he pauses for a moment, standing a foot away from the desk, his cock standing up, calling out for your pussy. he gives you a look, and you know it's a question. a question you would have raged at fifteen minutes ago but you now know is what you've needed this whole time.

“yes.” you tell rafe. simple. one word. one syllable for rafe to surge forward, his arms around your body as he captures you in another kiss and pushes his cock forward against your entrance, burying himself in one smooth motion.

your head tips back, but rafe follows, hips snapping forward and instantly picking up pace, feeling how wet and warm you are, so good that he can't help his loose tongue.

“feels so good.” rafe grumbles. “can't believe we took so fucking long to do this.”

“maybe if you weren't such a-” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust, your sassy comeback stopping halfway through and quickly leaving your mind all together.

“mhm, that's what i thought.” rafe chuckles, but he's barely handling himself better than you, forcing himself to stay somewhat quiet when really he wants to shout your name for everyone to hear, to know he's claiming you.

“t-touch me again.” you tell rafe, and he knows what you mean, yet he's not ready yet, not ready for this to end, so instead one of his hands moves to your breast while he continues to thrust.

you let out a little growl, tempted to reach down yourself and rub your own clit if rafe is taking so damn long to do it, but both your hands are certainly needed to stabilize yourself against the desk.

“perfect pussy.” rafe says, stating it like it's a fact. it almost makes you laugh, but there's not a hit of humor in his voice, his eyes completely glazed over at this point.

he finally reaches down to your clit, beginning his motions from earlier this time with his thumb, remembering exactly what you like and what gets the biggest moan out of you.

you pussy clenches around rafe and he can tell you won't last long, his own speed increasing as his thumb runs so vigorously he's worried only for a second that he's being too rough before remembering who he's with.

“f-fuck!” you squeal. “rafe!”

your back arches as you cum, entire body shaking as your arms collapse underneath you, falling back against the desk as rafe continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

the feeling of your pussy constricting around him sends him over the edge, filling you up with a grunt and a mumble of your name.

“shit.” you gasp, sitting up as you regain some control of your body. “josh is going to be pissed.”

“hey, he told us to work out our frustrations.”

--

“happy six months.” you poke rafes side, making him flinch and then frown at you as he drops a fork in a clatter back onto the table.

“can't believe i could have gotten away with just two.” rafe sighs dramatically.

“hm, part of me thinks that you purposely got in trouble again so you had to stay working here.” 

“now why would i do that?” rafe smirks, very obviously checking you out, looking past your gleaming name tag declaring your newly promoted position as manager to the cleavage peeking from underneath your top.

“meet me in my office when you're done rolling silverware.” you take a look around the country club restaurant, it's certainly not busy and your other staff can handle it as the night is coming to a close anyways.

“am i getting written up?” rafe questions, smile still on his face.

“no… but if you're quick you will get ridden.”

[yzashaven]

pairing ☆ scaramouche x fem!reader

content warnings ☆ nsfw content ahead. unprotected sex. hate fuck. rough sex. slapping. spanking. degradation + praising. overstimulation. nipple sucking. creampie. hair pulling. marking. riding. mating press. prone bone. "whore, slut, baby"

note .ᐟ HEYYY so like... it's been a while, yes? 3 months since my last post, how is everyone? i made this yesterday randomly at 3am and didn't really feel like posting it on the new blog (that is still in progress) also I AM SO SORRY if this is in any way bad?? i'm so rusty... i haven't written in so long but gosh it felt nice to finish a work and i thought it would be a good idea to put it here just because i felt like it akbsuwhs the plot is kinda all over the place i have no idea—anyway, if i missed anything in the warnings, please let me know! i hope you guys will enjoy reading this ♡

word count ☆ 0.98k

the sight of you riding him was the last thing he expected to enjoy seeing. the way your face has pleasure written all over it, your breasts bouncing with each move your hips make, body trembling from the feeling, and most especially, the way you moaned so lewdly.

he loved it, yet hated you.

he hated your cocky and annoying attitude, always teasing and defying him no matter when or where you were. why do you always think you're better than him? you never will be. well... at least that's what he thinks.

putting you in your place was always the one thing he wanted to do. but as much as he wanted to do so out of anger, the hidden sexual tension between you was no joke. he couldn't avoid it.

he wants to slap you, punch you, hit you in some way. but at the same time he feels like pounding you, pushing your face down into the bed, shutting you up with his fingers in your mouth. no matter how much he thinks you're the absolute worst, he can't deny how attractive you are. and it just fuels his desires even more.

his eyes dart down to watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, smirking to himself, "such a filthy slut. you take me so well, don't you?" hand reaching behind to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back, exposing your neck to him. he doesn't hesitate to lean it and mark you as his.

moving down, he sees your hardened nipples from arousal. his lips wrap around the sensitive area and gently suck on one, tongue flicking on it every now and then. he pulls away and finally lets go of your hair. hands going over to grip your hips now before he spoke up, "getting tired already? gosh, you're weaker than i thought."

you shake your head, about to respond but he doesn't let you. two fingers suddenly filling your mouth, "don't even think of speaking," he whispers and lays you down on your back, "i'm gonna fuck you hard, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?"

a red hue spreads across your face. speechless, you nod silently. he smirks and playfully spanks your ass, "atta girl." in one thrust, he fills you up completely. grabbing your legs and bringing them up to your chest. his cock is way deeper inside you in this position and he knows that very well.

capturing your lips in a rough kiss, he began to thrust in and out of you, slow in pace but definitely powerful. gradually getting faster, wilder, with each passing second. your hands come up around your legs to hold them in place, spreading yourself for him.

finally pulling away from the kiss, you try to catch your breath but moans flow out of your lips one after another. to add to it all, he brings his thumb down to rub your clit. it was visible from your body language that you were close to an orgasm. so close.

"you gonna cum around my cock like a good whore, baby?" he chuckles. his other hand comes up to your face, playfully slapping you, "i've always wanted to do that since you're so damn annoying." narrowing his eyes, he glares down at you.

"as if you aren't as well!?" you exclaim back, but it fails—he pinches your clit, drawing out a lewd cry from you. "be quiet and i'll let you cum. come on." you look up at him and make eye contact. he isn't moving anymore, his cock just buried deep inside you. the moment is rather intimate, or so you thought.

"fuck you, scara–"

"you're doing just that and you're still complaining?"

you glare up at him, giving up and letting your head fall back onto the soft pillows, "just fuck me already, fucking hell." you unexpectedly say. he smiles, "gladly."

before you could even register anything else, he was already pounding into you. rough, hard, and fast. giving your clit a sufficient amount of attention as well. all of it was completely overwhelming and all you could do was scream out his name as you came around him. gripping the sheets so tight that your knuckles turned white, your whole body shaking.

"fuck–so good... you feel so fucking good squeezing my cock like that, baby." he groans before finishing inside you. keeping himself in place for a while as he calmed himself down before pulling out gently. he silently watches as your body continues to tremble. scaramouche sighs and gently stimulates your clit, "aww, shh... there there..." the gesture causes you to get overstimulated rather than soothed.

"i'm still hard, just so you know." his voice low as a whisper. "let me just..." flipping you over, he puts you on your hands and knees, entering you from behind and making your body weakly fall flat on the bed. he sighs and just gets on top of you, pushing himself back deep into your wetness.

his bare chest to your back, your body quivering beneath him as he began to thrust into you again. starting at a slow pace that gradually got faster, fucking you properly. leaning down, he whispers right into your ear, "such a perfect cunt you've got, huh?"

you're already so close. the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot every now and then. his body trapping you under him, leaving you with no choice but to take what he gave. drool was already seeping from out of the corner of your mouth from how long you've had your lips apart, occupied in moaning his name over and over again.

as much as he despised you, he could never even think of denying how much he adored the fucked out state you were in. all because of him.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

A Well Deserved Grudge

Summary: You still hate them after their overblot

Notes: GN Yuu. Some based off some stuff from the light novel. Yuu is pretty evil in Jamils. General edginess that comes with angst

Based on this old post abt Yuu with scars

Riddle Rosehearts

A familiar click of heels has you on edge. As they approach you turn around to face him, messing with some of the bandages around your neck from your last encounter. There stood Riddle, his confident stance dropping the second he meets your eyes. 

His usual piercing gaze filled with anxiety as the words he so wanted to say— needed to say— died on his tongue. He's such a coward without a rule book. He's even more cowardly under your scrutiny.

"What?” You deadpan at him and Riddle swallows, looking at the bandages on your neck and arms. He then looks at your face, covered in a few scratches from rose bushes.

“... I… am here to… ” His voice shook toward the end and he took a breath to steady himself. “I'm sorry Yuu. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

You merely raised a brow and fully turned to him. Riddle could see the gash along your neck that peeked through some of the bandages. A grim reminder on how his magic failed during his overblot. The expression you had on your face as the collar around your neck continued to tighten and cut into you haunts him.

“You’re apologizing?” A flicker of determination flashes in Riddle's eyes as he nods. 

“Yes. I know it's not enough but… I'm sorry.” The dullness of your eyes reminds the dormleader that this was far from enough to smooth things over.

“I do not forgive you.” He should have expected that, yet he winces still. What is he supposed to do in this scenario? What else does he say? There is no rule, no guide to what he has done. Deuce and Ace said that he needs to make things right, but how?

“... I understand. If there's anything I can do to earn your forgiveness, please–”

“I don't think there's anything you could do that makes this okay.” Your voice is dull as you pull at the bandages on your neck. “Shouldn't you be in the headmage's office fighting your expulsion?”

It was true. Crowley was to judge whether or not he was to be expelled for his actions. It scared him. “I… I am but–”

“Then go. We both know you won't be kicked out– Crowley doesn't have a backbone and your bitch of a mother will make sure you stay in. You want to ‘earn’ my forgiveness? Stay the hell away from me.” 

Riddle grits his teeth and closes his fist tighter. Emotions of all kinds surge through him. He's confused, he's guilty, he's angry, he's lost. 

Most of all, he's scared. Scared of your gaze, scared of how you hold yourself. Your eyes remind him so much of the ones above him he tries to please and they're boring into him with such disapproval.

“I don't want to see you around, get your shitty tantrums in check. Just because you lose your head doesn't mean others have to. Just go.”

By now you've turned away and started walking off. Riddle could only watch, unable to find the strength to move or say anything. It was probably for the better. He needs to go to the Headmage.

Jamil Viper

He hates this feeling. You have forgiven him, though and through, water under the bridge and he hates it. He hates how you shrug it off. He hates that you don't hate him. He hates this guilt.

He mind controlled you. You. A magicless and defenseless human who was already helping him. You who are in a position so similar to his. You who had no way to fight back. He kidnapped you, keeping you in Scarabia for days regardless of your own plans. If it weren't for your dorm ghosts feeding the fire fairies, Crowley would have cut off your food for the week.

Then he tried to kill you, and had the audacity to be angry at you for it. To add even more salt into the wound you were so kind with him afterwards. You didn’t seem to take it seriously. Take him seriously. Your attitude reminds him so much of Kalim which makes this even worse.

He hates your smile. He hates your attitude. He hates the way you have to walk because of your injuries. He hates seeing glimpses of the wounds on your abdomen from him.

Yet another reminder of his failures. How he hates someone that's not entirely to blame. How he hates someone that's overly nice. He avoids your gaze so often he doesn't notice the glints of satisfaction within it.

Vil Schoenheit

He could only stare at the prefect within the mirror. Their gaze so fixated on themselves and their new appearance they paid no mind to the hospital bed they should be laying in. He wants to lecture them to sit, lay back down and to stop sitting up, but he's sure they would break down if he did.

Blackened veins run along your body, your skin reddened and inflamed in random areas. Even with all the magical remedies the doctors have given you, the black tar like substance runs through you still. “Good going Vil. Really fucked that one up huh?” 

Vil’s eyes met yours in the mirror, he could see your face steel itself before you turned to him. Your eyes stood out against the inky scrawls of venom coursing through you. They were so cold, so angry.

“... I know this is something I may never be able to amend…” Vil starts, taking a breath. Fuck. Years of acting and hard work are lost on him. It is hard to keep strong when seeing how badly your own childishness, your own selfishness hurt someone this badly.

“I want to apologize. I know this is far from enough. I plan to not only cover any costs that may occur in your recovery, but to also offer my support in any way I can during your recovery.” 

Your gaze only hardens. "Bare minimum I guess…” You sniffle a bit as words slur. It was clear you were still inebriated. You weren't going to be the most logical right now, but that's fine. He will say this apology a million times over if it would make it right.

“... If there is anything you need..."

“Go away.” You sniffle again, wiping away tears. “Just leave.” Vil swallows and shuts his eyes for a moment. “I understand.” 

As he turns to leave the drugs in your system really start to kick in. “You… You really are a villain.” The words come out crude and harsh, no doubt you are speaking to hurt him. Yet as you turned away he could see your face in the mirror.

Scared. You were scared of him. You were scared and truly believed in what you were saying. And you weren't wrong. He is a villian.

Malleus Draconia

A mighty dragon places his glass heart in the hands of a human without their knowledge, and is enraged when the human breaks it. Except here Malleus broke it himself to protect himself from the possibility of the human hurting him first. Now he holds the shards of what's left and sees them stained not by his blood, but by yours.

A position he put onto you, his only friend. He does not even know if he has the right to call you that anymore. Not after his little stunt. Children of men do not deserve to be locked away in the dark, no matter how beautiful you were in it. They were to be free. Even if it hurt him. You and him could have been free together.

He looks at your expression. It still holds no fear, no anxiety, just as foolishly brave you were when he first met you. Instead it holds disappointment. Such a pathetic emotion that he would smite off anyone else if it wasn't you. 

“... You're really selfish, you know that?” You mutter and look away from him, as if not wanting to believe the words coming out of your own mouth. “Were we really friends or was I just some doll to you? Some obsession?”

A sniffle. “I wanted to be your friend…” Malleus hasn't the words to respond. He can only open his mouth then close it. “I know. I'm sorry. You made me so happy I wanted you all to myself. It's not an excuse, but when I thought I would be losing you, it was too much for me. I made… A very rash decision.”

There's silence. More deafening than the silence at his birthday parties growing up. “Is there any possibility you could forgive me?” It was a daring question, one he was afraid to know the answer to. 

“... I don't know, Tsuno. I think… I think I need some time to think about it.” You turn away from him and his heart sinks, the pet name does nothing to soothe his nerves.

He remembers all the times he's told you how his kind are born cruel and you would tell him that his actions have shown just how kind he could be. That him learning to be nice and overcoming his nature is more meaningful than anyone who was born that way. 

And he ruined that. He may not be able to choose his nature but he can choose his actions. He chose to hurt you.