#sorry im rambling okay bye

[entering--hyperspace]

Cannot imagine whatever is going on through Mr Leonard Echowatcher's head. You spend your life yearning for a world where you lived differently, where the day wasnt soaked in war, blood, and battle. Where you could envision a future where you have a partner and a family with friends to live gracefully with. But then you are given such opportunities only to find you were never taught to be gentle, you have a gentle, empathetic nature and yet the physicality of it is a stranger to you. You are expected to raise a child with gentle hands so that she saves the world, What does that even mean? How can you accept your growing love for your friend when you were never taught how to love, that intimate love is a luxury best left forgotten, there are no need for such things in war. He has to learn to become the things he wanted bc he grew too old to develop it naturally. He becomes a father to taimi fumbling his way into learning how to care and parent, he is defensive of Aurene bc he is from a culture where they arent expected to raise their own young and yet has to do so with a dragon. It feels like a test, He has to prove both to others and to himself he is capable of being a father, of nuturing, that calloused, stained hands can still be gentle. He has to accept that love is a terrifying leap of faith in vulnerability in order to gain a partnership that is considered a rarity. I love the idea that he spent 30 years yearning for things he thought he would never have and when he is actually given those opportunities (albeit admittedly through unusual circumstances) he has to learn how to actually live in them, becuase they were always just Concepts until now. Ohhhh my god Mr. Leo you are my everything

[scriblesandbits]

I have mixed feelings on broadway homestuck as a whole but they were cooking with Thirteen Years (One World Closer) when they had karkat ask if the stars on John’s world look the same as they did on his. Do you think he’d be happy to know that they do.

[lolathepeacocklord]

ghuuhh..... important.... announcement i must make.....................

I have an Etsy shop now!!! :DDD I just got it finished up and actually opened last night, so I still need to add like a custom pfp and banner to my shop, but I officially have oneeee single listing of a bulkhead pin on there 😼😼😼 if you are at all interested in checking this out I would mighty appreciate it gang!! :DD https://www.etsy.com/listing/1734745938/the-bulkpin

I'll be getting my shop more customized and pretty looking very soon, and eventually have more than just one single pin listed. So stay tuned !!!! ^^ <33 I love you guyzzzz bai bai!! runs away really fast cartoon skittering sfx

[moon9931]

im taking a break

tired and sad

explanation in the tags if you give a fuck

UPDATE: feelin a lil better but still unmotivated to do art

maybe in artfight...

[jerrsterrr]

im so excited im gonna die

(sitting perfectly still, monotone voice)

[linkvcr]

goooood afternoon skysword nation

[snow-and-saltea]

finished like 153 chapters in one night. i love these kinds of executions for yandere characters so much. i love it when a story takes mental illness and psychological brokenness seriously and still be able to create a beautiful interpretation without fetishizing that appeals to the very raw and basic nature of wanting to be loved so badly that fractures a person. i love stories like this that show us the worst of a person but doesn't rush to ease them again. i love stories that show the darkest pits of the human psyche and makes you go, "this is happening but it isn't the end. wait just a bit, and ill show you how things get better." i LOVE when stories do that; get all meta and create a story within the story that the actors/characters have to now see their way through and reach the scripted happy ending that feels impossible and illogical to reach as a conclusion, but happened anyways. stories that are seemingly taken out of the author's hands and into the characters instead and them being like "i know you believe this happy ending to be false, because you can't believe it'll be achievable through anything but delusion. but just wait, i'll show you." (thinking particularly about the princess iron fan arc in act age bc that still makes me tear up)

the depiction of ptsd and mental illness was something i was particularly touched by, too. the "problematic" aspects, ugly aspects, of mental illness were addressed so kindly and compassionately, and the solution never felt like it was straight up telling you "you're messed up. this isn't right, you're not normal". this is something i would've expected reading a story with a yandere character, because for most people the appeal of a yandere is to be attracted to someone who is Fucked up but hot. but like. even rebuttals like "no that's not normal! that scares me!" were handled so casually -- almost to the point you could call it carelessly, but it wasn't careless at all. it was a deliberate choice to not make a Huge deal about being turned off by someone's thoughts or preferences that made for a much more judgement-free and loving environment to agree or disagree with each other.

rindo is really the ideal wish fulfillment for mentally ill buddies like me along w kim kitsuragi sjjdjdjfkfkf. like i kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, to see the twist that oh this guy is gonna be fucked up too! bc of the Genre! but no. he's kind, steadfast and humourous, and is so generous w his capacity to love people. he might be understood as a selfless martyr type with the way he keeps wanting to reassure amane even during really troubling events in the plot, but he was never traumatised by those events and he had a clear and sane mind the entire time. its so easy to think of him as a "victim" in an overbearing codependent relationship in the story, but he's just really emotionally resilient. he doesn't give up, he doesn't take hurtful words at face value because he knows something deeper is at play, he doesn't hesitate opening up first and being vulnerable or pushy if it helps amane feel less ugly being vulnerable with his thoughts and desires towards him.

this is a fictional story and not irl, so obviously like. irl, you wouldn't want to enmesh yourself so deeply with someone that you'll die if they do. but he was willing to do that. not necessarily that, but the same gesture -- "if i ever betray you, you can kill me, and then we'll both be the last thing we'll see". on paper, even just writing it, makes me sound insane and delusional. how could this be something someone sane could say? but he WAS sane, because he was also saying "you said you love me so much you want to die with me, so you must also mean that you love me so much you want to live with me forever. this means your heart wants to be with me, so stop deceiving yourself into thinking you'll be fine. know that my heart and yours are joined in the same way, because i want to see you at the end of my life too, and there's nothing wrong with that."

rindo has such a great talent for finding multiple meanings, often positive, to amane's thoughts. because his mind is often muddy and swamped with unpleasant words and memories when he spirals / ruminates , he can't stick his hand through it long enough to see what comes out when he pulls out of it. very natural, normal and human desires you form with someone you love: "i love you. i'm scared you'll leave me someday. i want to be with you forever. i don't know if i deserve to be this happy. i love you. i love you. i love you. i don't want to spend a day without you. i want you to be happy and i want to be involved in making you happy, but i feel so incompetent that i'm worried i'll fail too much. i love you. please love me back.”

the way the characters in this story is so kind genuinely ... makes me want to cry. like rindo's mom accidentally saying homophobic things at first out of surprise but then her Maternal instincts took over and she could have another son to shower with love. the way everyone looks out for them but doesn't judge their relationship or try to messily break them away from each other or intervene for their "own good". there's no unnecessary drama or misunderstanding that isn't solved within 1-2 chapters in a really clear, reassuring tone (while also maintaining a natural pace so as to be thoughtful to the writing).

man. i cried multiple times reading this story. i was just here for the yandere BL ride, not the unexpected feeling of love and validation for my mental health issues?!

[bnuuys]

i love u aira tumblr i love u aira tumblr i love u so much aira tumblr

[taegularities]

regarding: colour me in — feeling sick to my stomach writing cmi11.. like, shaking crying throwing up im scared of even posting it lol

[cloversugar]

a while back i was talking to some friends about their thanksgiving, and the big question was what insane out of pocket conversation starter that your family pulled over holiday dinner, and the general consensus was either like bigotry or borderline offensive conspiracy theories, but when it got to my turn, and they’re like “oh yeah what about you saturday?” and i was like “oh yeah um y’know………..mpreg” FOR CONTEXT i have a relatively eccentric family to say the least so there’s really no way of telling what will come out of our mouths and when or why, it’s just something you roll with; so i’m zoned out picking a cracker off the charcuterie board, my social battery is low, and i already got over the hard part (explaining why i’m not in college yet lol) when i’m curb stomped back into reality after hearing “did you guys know they’re letting men give birth now?? i think i read something about it they’re like taking hormones and everything.” PAUSE. PAUSE. i just want to know where they read this. like something tells me that this isn’t like actual news and they just ended up on a strange part of the internet and got confused? i don’t know.

[brain-in-a-skin-suit]

Okay so disclaimer i haven't seen Dead Apple in a while, and I also didn't go into writing this with a conclusion in mind, so its a bit of a mess.but! i did reach a conclusion! Sorry for any inaccuracies, I was working from memory for a lot of this. please correct me if im wrong about something! Also pretty please add any connected theories if you have any

Warning: long post

I remember watching Dead Apple and being really thrown off by the fact that Fyodor's ability seemed to be chill with him. Every character aside from him who had an ability manifestation was fighting their ability. This makes me think that in his natural state (not affected by Shibusawa's ability), Fyodor is already fighting his own ability, so when Shibusawa was doing his thing, the relationship flipped and they got along.

In chapter 108 of the manga, fyodor suddenly says he's controlled by "a demon" and follows it up with this:

then he says this:

which is really key. It implies everything i suspected from Dead Apple-- Fyodor's ability is his enemy.

Of course, right after this scene, he stabs Sigma and basically says "teehee I was lying the whole time"

But I don't know if I truly believe he was lying (which isn't a hot take, I've seen other people who believe the same thing). What he said earlier really fit with the conclusions that could be drawn from Dead Apple. There is a real possibility that he when his ability regained control it just, ya know, lied.

Okay fine, whatever, what is his ability?? who, or what, is he? to be fully honest, I don't know.

But here's what we do know -- or for many of these, what we suspect (in number list so i can easily refer back to them)

1. Fyodor might be immortal. A very popular theory based mainly around the fact that he is everywhere in the BSD timeline but never seems to age

2. His ability probably works against him in some way, likely taking over his body due to some "weakness" that was brought forth by the ability, and then taken advantage of. I am going to refer to the "good" Fyodor we briefly see in ch 108 as 108!fyodor just to make things easier for myself.

3. He can kill non-gifted with a touch of his hand. I don't think he can kill gifted the same way (he had to shoot the cat-lady, plus every ability-kill we've seen thus far has been of non-gifted victims)

4. Nikolai does not know how to kill him (still unclear on the whole poisoning plotline-- I have seen the theory that Nikolai didn't poison them earlier, but the "antidote" is poison. Still not fully clear on how all of this fits together), and wants Sigma to find out his ability so he can kill him.

5. In Dead Apple, he was split into "Crime" and "Punishment". One person was an ability manifestion just like everyone else had been dealing with, the other was Fyodor himself acting as part of his ability-- which is odd because the ability is supposed to sever the gift from the gifted. and yet fyodor was still part of it, just fragmented. This supports the fyodor is not fully human idea presented by Sigma's question of "what are you?" and the immortaity theory. It also supports an alter-ego, as he had two personalities there.

6. fyodor has some vendetta against the gifted despite being a gifted himself

7. gifts are typically a result of some type of trauma or past experience. we do not really know his backstory.

so point 4. Nikolai doesn't know how to kill him. Assuming everything 108!fyodor said was true, this dagger could kill him:

sword Kladenets is an established sword type, typically belonging to a hero (interesting that fyodor has one...)

"In some heroic poems and ancient Russian legends, a sword Kladenets acts as a self-cutting sword, which, on the orders of its owner, can cut down an entire forest or at least the whole enemy army. Other weapons could heal or make their owners or holders – invulnerable."

interesting stuff. invincibility? Well, fyodor may be immortal (see point #1), so that could go hand in hand with that. It would also explain why a sword Kladenets would be needed to kill him-- any other weapon would fall short.

Also, fyodor's "ability" involves being able to kill other people easy-peasy by tapping them (point #3)-- which is the same thing the sword kladenets does. Remember, every person he's killed with his ability bled out where he touched them-- as if they were cut with a blade!!

But why can't he kill ability users? my theory is that abilities are on the same level as a sword kladenets, and therefore the sword cannot do it on its own. Fyodor can only be killed by the sword kladenets that he wields and not by an ability; he cannot kill an ability user with the sword. makes enough sense to me

okay, what else can we learn from the sword?

Everything I read about the sword describe that the hero has to find the sword; by digging it from the ground or taking it from a dead body, or some other way of earning it. Then the sword will work with the hero. But Fyodor's ability (which I am beginning to believe is simply the sword he wields) works against him (see point #2), which makes me think he obtained the sword without earning it. This could be the "weakness" that was brought forth by his ability and allowed for his ability to overtake him-- which makes sense!! he would not have that weakness had he not obtained the sword!

The sword is also often given a personality-- it is a character in itself (which would explain the alter-ego point #5)

furthermore, how could he have a sword in prison if it wasn't part of his ability??

So! what I am trying to say is that fyodor somehow wrongly obtained a sword kladenets (or perhaps in this universe, the sword kladenets), and is now controlled by it. this led to him form an alter ego (the sword's personality), which overtook him due to the fact that he did not earn the sword, and was not powerful enough to control it. The sword gave him the ability to be unkillable (and therefore immortal/unaging), and the ability to kill non-gifted easily by simple contact.

i would like to emphasize that i am very likely wrong, as this is BSD we're talking about after all. I am working from memory and a very small amount of research, and also using this as an excuse to procrastinate. Take this with a grain of salt. but also, please add onto this if you have thoughts. I have not read Crime and Punishment (I have copy but I've been busy) or any other Dostoevsky book, so if you have and you think this relates to his books in any way (or that it contradicts them) I'd love to hear it!

[ofcowardiceandkings]

[sits on the floor]

im wamt to draw cute smooshy fings but i have feelings about stuff

[seraqhites]

waiting for my lover to return from war

[victorinoxghoul]

literally explodes

[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.