#the ONLY tags on there are me just talking. no actual tags

[minnies-puppydoll]

hi!! i really really REALLY love your works so far like USHDNSKSKJZZBNS THEY ARE SO GOOD AND FIT THEM AND JUST THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR HARD WORK

uhm, so uh, i would like to order a skz reaction when they are needy, please. like when they are so desperate and just yearn to fuck or be fucked i dont mind. thank you so much!! 🫶

OT8 HCS:

*~When they’re needy~*

pairing: ot8 x reader

tags: cum, toys, anal, sounding, begging, degredation, praise :3

thank you for ordering!! do you need a recipt?🐶

smut below the cut<3

Chris:

• gets so flirty.

• like he’s usually flirtatious, but when he actually wants it to go somewhere he so extremely smooth with it.

• but it also turns into dirty talk real fast. he’ll spill filthy things into your ears or messages.

• or he’ll send you quick little texts like:

you should come over ha ha..not unless u want too <3

• dick pic sender!! his big, leaky cock twitches under the exposure of his camera, he bites his lip as he snaps the picture. he giggles despite feeling dirty, because a part of him likes being teased.

• he ends up getting himself more worked up on accident. he doesn’t want to jerk off or anything because he wants to save his cum for you. but, he can’t resist touching himself, so he’ll just tease his cock so bad.

• you may come home and see your sexy boyfriend laid out on the couch red-faced and breathing heavy with the bottom of his shirt between his teeth. he’ll run his fingers along his red, dripping cock lightly, whining and squirming his hips at the torture.

• he thinks you’re cute, so he likes to touch you up and tease you.

• honestly is a bit shy to say outright the he “wants to have sex” so he’ll play with you until you’re begging to fuck. (depends on his mood)

• or sometimes he’ll let his actions speak louder, by kissing you as soon as you walk through the door, pressing his hard cock onto your thigh so you can feel how much he thought of you.

“mmh..yeah, feel that? feel me? been like this all day, teasing my cock just for you. its my turn to feel you, hm?”

Minho:

• can’t focus on shit.

• he sees horniness as an annoying ache. he’s so distracted easily, he’s daydreaming about sex, and he’s uncomfortable, he just wants to relieve the desire burning his core.

• so sensitive too, especially when he’s daydreaming. someone touches his shoulder and he’s flinching, if someone whispers something in his ear he’s shuddering.

• he used to be too proud to say he’s horny. but you could see through his curt, sarcastic attitude by how clingy he would get around YOU. the only one that could fix it.

• so because of his attitude, he used to just spam text you a bunch of things for attention. it’s like as soon as he’s horny, he’s laying himself over you like a cat.

• but now, he’s way more comfortable, maybe even too comfortable.

• he’ll just send you a selfie with a dumbass filter and text:

come to the bathroom and suck me off🐰

• like bro what💀 it always works though..

• doesn’t send dick pics. even if he’s away he’ll just facetime you if you wanna see his dick so bad. he’ll pour lube down his cock and jerk himself off so slowly, always shows his blissed out face too.

• when he’s finally got his hands on you, he’s too focused on getting himself off to say anything to you really. but, if you keep him waiting long enough, you’ll hear his frustration.

“can we fuck? like right now? ….please. ill eat you out. i know you can’t say no to something like that.”

Changbin:

• if he’s at the studio, you won’t even notice. you can only tell by the impatient bouncing of his leg and his nervous lip bites.

• once he has you alone, he’s placing a soft hold on your waist, nuzzling your noses and whispering such cute things that equally make you giggle and want to bite on his lips.

• his foreplay consists of soft grabs and sweet kisses that get deeper and deeper until he’s got you straddling him, not breaking the intimate makeout session you’re sharing.

• very comfortable telling you when he’s horny, even if pink still hues his cheeks a little.

• very cute about dick pics. he doesn’t send them unless you tell him to, and the first time he did, he was so excited and aroused. he looked around from his phone, seeing if anyone noticed the flushed expression he had in his face.

• he snuck to the bathroom and sprung his thick cock out of his boxers, he fumbled with the camera for a while, not really knowing how to take a picture of it?

• he snaps a cute picture of his short cock leaking a thin string of precum on his finger. the picture and situation turned him on so much he was begging you to let him jerk off.

• when you aren’t home, he’s usually patient, but you can’t ignore things forever..

• you guys own a few toys, so he’ll pick a few from the drawer that he hasn’t tried yet and play with his cock until you get home.

• it’ll be a pretty picture when you do too. he’ll be on his hands and knees, lightly fucking a small, pink buttplug in and out of his ass, begging for you too finish him off.

“ahn- welcome home, sweet girl… mphh..need your soft pussy on my cock. please please- fuck me with this in?”

Hyunjin:

• stares at you alot.

• he’ll look up at you with such a sweet, loving gaze, analyzing every part of you like a nostalgic toy.

• he loooves frotting. he’ll show you how needy he is for you by rubbing his sweet hard-on along your clothed tummy till his precum stains his pants. its like he’s magnetically drawn to you when he’s hard.

• comfortable telling you when he’s horny. he’ll tell you when you guys are alone/able to, so you don’t feel pressured to make time for his desires, especially when you’re busy or having fun.

• sends way more bulge pics than dick pics. some of his long, hard cock in his sweatpants, maybe his pretty hand gripping the length of it.

• sends vids too, he’ll send you one of him teasing his cockhead with a thick paintbrush of his, begging you to come home and do it instead.

• when you aren’t home, he’ll jerk himself through the silk of his pajama pants, stopping when he’s close to cumming. or he’ll roll his hips into mattress, pretending it’s your wet pussy.

• and when you do get home, he’s meeting you at the door. his hair is messy and he’s somewhat panting. he’ll step closer to you till his lips rest in your hair, and his hips are the only part of him you can promenantly see.

• he’ll pull his sensitive cock out from his cozy pants, jerking himself off right in front of your eyes, his tip pressing onto your shirt. his breath will hitch and he’ll hide his face in your hair, moaning in realization that he’s finally gonna cum.

• it squirts onto your sweatshirt, pumping out of his cock with small, audible thuds. his cum seeps messily into clothes, as he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

“mm- fuck…so fucking turned on right now..you see what you do to me? oh god..g’nna cum- gonna fucking cum..”

Han:

• act suprised, he’s pathetic.

• literally dissasociated. he wants you so bad he doesn’t even care about whats happening if it isn’t related to you.

• if you aren’t home, he’ll lay in bed, gripping the sheets around him and even stripping down because of how hot his body gets when he thinks about you.

• no indescribable force could keep this man from jerking off. babe as soon as he gets home and shuts the door behind him, he’s leaning on that shit and quickly unzipping his cock free.

• he’ll be still setting down his bag while he’s twitching and jerking from stroking his cock. as soon as he’s done, he plops down on the bed and continues to jerk himself off till he cums for the first time that day.

• oh he sends dick pics. but weirdly only when he’s in public or at work, never at home. you can’t count how many pictures of his hard cock he’s sent from bathrooms, practice rooms, dressing rooms and even in this hoe’s car.

• when you are home, he’s holding your hands and begging for you to have some type of sex with him. he doesn’t card if your pegging, he’s fucking, he’s domming, or he’s subbing or whatever, he just needs to feel you on him.

• if you say anything other than yes immediately, he’s dropping to his knees and looking up at you, saying such useless, pathetic words in hopes to get himself fucked.

“please! please please- i’ll be such a good boy…just need it. need it so bad it hurts. i’ll take whatever you give me..”

Felix:

• so clingy and desperate.

• but, he’s so happy he has someone to fuck so he doesn’t have to suffer alone.

• biggest pleaser. he’ll pull you into a deep hug, reaching a hand down to toy with your clothed clit, eating up every noise you make.

• he likes clear communication so he’ll just text you and ask when you are returning home.

• his dick pics are usually tame. pictures of him pulling up his sweater so you can see his freckled abs and leaky cock. or he sends videos of his long cock squirting in the company bathrooms, you can only hear the cute splashing sounds and his whiny little gasps, trying to stay quiet.

• but, when he feels really turned on, he might even send little slutty videos of his cute cock humping his pillow till he shoots cum all over the fabric, or maybe one of him sounding his cock slit till his eyes roll back from a dry prostate orgasm.

• felix is a WHORE. so u guys do in fact have large toy drawer☺️

• when you aren’t home he either fucks his ass with one of your old dildos, or humps some other object of yours. though it’s softer than it sounds, he just loves you!

• coming home is the best. on the bed, he’ll be sat up on his knees, holding your shoulders and kissing you messily. his back is arched toward you as you tug on his cock to completion. he may not have the energy left to pound you, but it’s the best suprise ever.

“mmph..ffuck- can’t hold it anymore..mm- ah! your hands- ah..faster faster please..i can take it.”

Seungmin:

• you would think he’s in pain or something.

• it starts off with him just scrolling on his phone, and when he starts getting horny he may just reach a hand down there to softly rub his cock through his pants.

• then, he’ll look away from his phone, feeling it get more intense. his cock starts getting antsy, so he’ll text you when you’re coming home.

• finally, his phone is discarded. he decided to take a cold shower before he got sweat on his bed. but, it didn’t help much. the water hitting his cock made him hiss through his teeth.

• before he knew it, he had the showerhead in his hand, turning the water pressure up and letting it hit his cock. eyes rolling back and trembling before his cock squirts all over the shower wall.

• he doesn’t send pictures like at all. he’ll just explain through words how he’s feeling. he finds it awkward and strange.

• but he’ll send the prettiest voice messages of him groaning your name and the sloppy sounds of his cock.

• when he does get his hands on you, its desperate, not like jisung desperate but like he’s kissing you quickly and deeper, holding the side of your face.

• will pound you like he hasn’t cum in years, unintentionally holding you down and forcing his cock deeper.

“needed this. fucking needed this..nothing’s better. hm? slutty pussy’s all mine right? tightest fucking hole.”

Jeongin:

• being horny is his favorite.

• he’ll position himself in front of his mirror, smiling and spreading precum on his tip.

• he doesn’t usually wait for you, because he likes teasing you anyway, he likes it when you beg him to fuck you instead of his hand or his fleshlight. but he may wait for a little while.

• he’ll walk around in his grey sweatpants, making dinner and washing dishes while his hard cock bulges and twitches excitedly when he frots against the counter.

• genuinely the king of dick pics. he knows his cock is pretty, so every time he’s hard he’s having a full photoshoot before he jerks off. has folders in his camera roll full of just his dick.

• prefers taking pictures when you are there. so he can have a pretty pic of you mouthing and nuzzling into his bulge. his good girl.

• excited for you to come home and beg for him to fuck you again. he’ll pull his fleshlight from his closet, steadily moving it up and down on his cock, waiting for you to find him like this.

“wish this was your slutty cunt i was fucking? mm..sorry. i don’t think i can stop now. gonna cry? go ahead. ah..she’s tight too. ill waste my cum in this toy if you don’t start begging.”

[krosiefics]

“what’s this?” • kim seungmin

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: Seungmin finds one of your smutty books and teases you about it to the point where you BOTH take advantage of the situation.

WC: 1.7k

Tags: smut, piv, unprotected sex (be safe), afab!reader, bsf!seungmin, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, degradation (whore, slut, filthy, minx), seungmin is a little mean, ass slapping, hair pulling, light system, biting, blowjob, talkative seungmin, prob forgetting some sorry :(

“Hey, what’s this?” You hear your best friend say from the living room as you grab a snack from the kitchen. “What’s what?” You roll your eyes at the vague question.

“This.” You glance up to see Seungmin with the most shit eating grin ever. Your eyes flicker over to the object he’s holding up, it’s a book…it was one of those books. “That’s nothing, so if you’d just-“ You laugh dryly, attempting to snatch the book out of Seungmin’s hand. But the brown haired man raises his arm above his head, flipping through some pages before letting out a chuckle.

“‘Oh god, fuck me harder-‘ what the fuck is this?!” Seungmin teased, the smirk on his face not faltering one bit. “Never took you to be such a freak.” He stated as he continued reading the pages.

“He felt as she clenched against his cock, throbbing inside her pussy.” Seungmin read off the page as your face turned a dark hue of red. “Min, give it to me.” You say sternly, his antics only fueling your embarrassment.

Seungmin squints at you before flipping back a few pages until he was satisfied with the scene taking place in the book. “He strides over to her, caging her body in his.” Seungmin read, his body moving closer to yours.

Your heart pounded as his arms caged you against the kitchen counter. “His eyes falling to her lips, licking them as if he were craving to taste her.” Seungmin’s eyes flickered to yours before shifting towards your lips, letting his tongue run along his lower lip.

It’s then that you realize that he’s reenacting the scene from the book. The start of a smut scene…with you.

Your cheeks couldn’t possibly be redder. Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he reads the next line, “He leans in connecting their lips together as one, moving passionately against one another.”

Seungmin glances back at you as he leans his face dangerously close to yours. You gulp as you notice his eyes flicker down to your lips once more. “Min,” You breath out shakily, hands flying to his biceps.

“You’re so dirty you know that? Getting turned on by me reading a erotic scene…you’re filthy.” You shut your eyes and bite your lip, praying that no sound pours from them at his sudden degradation.

“Oh and look at that, you really are a slut.”

“Fuck.” you groan, your thighs rubbing against each other instinctively. “Their tongues danced against each other as his hands wrapped around the curve of her ass, squeezing at the flesh.”

His hands followed what the book said, trailing along the dip of your back before gently cupping your ass. You stare up at him with anticipating eyes.

“What?” Seungmin tilts his head teasingly, “You want more?” You groan before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and connecting your lips. Seungmin almost jumped in shock, not expecting you to have actually kissed him. He thought that the borderline groping was gonna get him kicked out of your apartment.

Seungmin’s hands stabilize on your hips as your lips move against one another, teeth clashing and tongue gliding along. Grunting as he pushes his hips into yours. “You’re a little shit you know that?” You huff out against his wet, swollen lips.

“Says the person who has an erotic book.” Seungmin cocks his head to the side. You’re suddenly aware of the proximity between the two of your bodies. You bite your lip, yearning to connect his lips to yours once more. As if he read your mind, Seungmin cups your cheeks, licking at the bottom of your lip allowing entry.

Seungmin’s hands trail once more down the curve of your ass, gently massaging at the flesh there. You roll your hips into his with neediness as your tongues move along one another. “Shit,” Seungmin groans, his lips detaching from yours to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “You can’t just do that.”

You peer down at the previously arrogant, teasing boy in front of you, just see his ears bright red. You roll your hips once more to tease him, feeling his hardening cock beneath his slacks. A small groan left his mouth. “And you called me dirty for getting turned on.” You tsked. Seungmin huffed out a laugh.

His grip on your ass suddenly tightens, lifting you onto the counter. The cold marble counter, causing you to let out a shaky gasp. Seungmin takes the opportunity to kiss you once again, his hands smacking lightly at your ass.

He presses his erection into your crotch as he lazily humps into you. You bite your lower lip to stifle your moans, Seungmin notices. He brings his fingers up to your lips, parting them, allowing your sweet moans to slip from your mouth. “Let me hear you, yeah.”

“Can I?” He asked as his fingers trace along the hem of your pajama shorts. You’re quick to nod, wanting everything that your best friend is willing to give. Seungmin’s larger hands slip past the waistband of your shorts, helping you lift your hips to slide them off all the way. You don’t miss the way he stiffens at the sight of your soaked pussy that’s clinging against your panties.

”Shit, you’re such a fucking minx.” Seungmin sighed as he ran his hands up and down your thighs, “Pull this off for me.” Motioning to your shirt, you quickly understand his prompt, lifting it up and over your head. “Fuck, you’re such a slut you know that?”

You moan softly, rubbing your thighs together. You need friction. You need to be touched. You need his touch.

“Min please.” You plead, growing desperate for his touch. “What?” Seungmin cocks his brow at you, “Growing needy are you?” He simply tuts, shaking his head at you. “Min, I swear to God-“

”What?” He tilts his head, “Are you gonna beg for it?”

Frustration clouds your mind leading you to push him off your body, getting off the counter before gently- yet forcibly- pinning him against the counter. “I hate you.” You pout, nonetheless sinking to your knees in front of him. “You say as you’re about to suck my cock like a slut.” You playfully slap his thigh before unzipping his jeans.

You stare at his bulge in front of you. He’s big…not too big that you’d be scared of putting it in you, but just enough to wear it might sting. “Stop staring at it and put your pretty mouth to good use.” As you pull his boxers down, his cock springs out, standing proudly at your face.

Seungmin’s breath hitches as your lips trail kisses along the shaft, making your way to his tip. “Fuck,” A throaty groan pours from the brown haired boy’s mouth as you take him into your mouth. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth- taking me so well.” He grunts between shallow breaths, gripping a handful of your hair tightly.

You never thought Seungmin could be so vocal during sex…you were wrong.

Seungmin guides your head along the length of his cock by the grip of your hair. The slight sting only turning you on even more. Suddenly, he pulls you all the way on him; tip hitting the back of your throat as you gag around him. Your hands fly up to his thighs, patting them to notify him. Seungmin helps you off his cock with a pop.

“You okay?” His tone changes as he watches you cough excessively from the lack of oxygen. “Yeah.” You manage to say between breaths. You finally peer up at him after gathering yourself from almost suffocating on his cock. Seungmin gulps as he sees you teary eyes and wet eyelashes staring up at him in an almost innocent manner.

“Fucking hell.” Seungmin breathes out before raising you up from your knees and placing you on the counter once more. “Fuck, you’re so dirty you know that? I’m gonna fuck you so good, hm.” His rough hands rub along your inner thighs, trailing a bit higher with each passing second.

“God, please do.” You groan, instinctively separating your legs as he strokes himself. “You know the colors?” Seungmin cocks his head at you with a smirk, you eagerly nod in response. “Words.”

“Yes I know the col- oh my fuck!” You let out a moan as he, without warning, moves your panties to the side and rams himself into your throbbing cunt.

He roughly pushes your torso down, hand wrapping around your throat- not to the point where you're lacking oxygen, just a slight pressure. The sounds pouring from your mouth are almost pornographic. Wet squelching and skin against skin noises echoing throughout your kitchen. At the corner of your eye you notice the book that had been forgotten long ago.

Seungmin follows your gaze, with a free hand flipping a page. “God you’re so beautiful, sucking my cock inside your wet pussy.” You groan, though not out of pleasure, but for the fact that at one point you thought reading smutty books was better than experiencing it.

“Stop!” You gasped out, Seungmin glanced over to you and gave you a look, his grip on your neck loosening ever so slightly. “Yellow-“ He stops, “with the book! Keep going though.” Seungmin chuckles at you as he begins to pick up his speed.

“God you’re so beautiful. You know…I’ve liked you for a while.” Seungmin grunts into you, his hand leaving your throat and grasping at your hips to stabilize you. “Minnie- please stop…reading the book.”

“Not reading anything.” He stares at you, “I do like you.” Your body automatically clenches around him, that familiar knot in your stomach threatening to release. “Fuck Min, I like you too-“ Seungmin cuts you off abruptly with his lips. The feeling of both of your bodies together and knowing each other's feelings cause you to both spill over the edge.

Seungmin eased out of you, his warm cum slowly dripping out of your cunt. “Shit you’re so perfect.” Leaning in and placing a kiss on your lips before helping you off the counter.

“You fucked up my back.” You joke as the two of you laid on your bed after cleaning the mess you left in the kitchen. Seungmin raises his eyebrow at you, a small endearing smirk resting on his lips.

taglist: @katsukis1wife @pixie0627

[notjustjavierpena]

Tink

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is so many days late but I promise that it is worth it. I hope you enjoy a broken heart.

Summary: You leave a Halloween party to go see Joel but it turns into a horror show when conversation between you takes a poor turn.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, secret relationship, dad’s best friend, possessiveness, daddy kink, lots of pet names, alcohol consumption, dirty and dark Tinkerbell roleplay, dirty talk, ass smacks!!!, clit stim, fingering, squirting, doggy style, overstim, tears, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, angst, fighting, no happy ending.

Word count: 9.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60461590

Tink

You’re readjusting the straps on your pale gold stilettos as Joel slips into your childhood bedroom. He has gone unnoticed by the rest of the people in the house like he always does, having mastered the art of sneaking around since the beginning of your little fling. This is even as he has gotten far bolder over the summer, especially over the last month when you told him you loved him. It fills him with a carefreeness that he hasn’t felt in years, a feeling unlocked from his teenage days that he was so sure his body had forgotten by now. However, it doesn’t mean that he is careful not to disturb the noise downstairs as he clicks the door shut. 

You’re standing in front of the full-body mirror just opposite the door, bent over as you undo your shoe strap to tighten it slightly. Joel feels like a damn dog as he lets his eyes skim up your beautiful legs, letting his gaze wander over the body he has come to know so well before it eventually settles on your strutting ass. 

You are wearing a Tinkerbell costume, its green satin fabric hugging your curves like it has been specially tailored to your body. You have chosen a version of the fae that he doesn’t quite remember from the movie he used to watch with Sarah; the neckline dips way low, the straps are tucked away into the top to expose your chest and shoulders, and the hemline of the skirt barely reaches your mid-thigh which he is sure that a twirl will reveal your underwear to the world, something that makes his jaw tighten when you should be for his eyes only. And then there are the wings; pale, translucent and with tiny flecks of gold in them. You may be demanding attention from people other than him but despite being sexy and driving him wild, you mostly look cute. It makes him smile affectionately as he takes a moment to gather himself instead of being completely overtaken by the need to possess. 

You are lost in your own world, clearly not expecting anyone to come in, so it takes you by surprise when he pads across the room to lay his hands on your hips without announcing his presence. He swallows hard as he sees the two of you in the mirror, imitating something far more explicit than what he is actually doing. 

His touch startles you, eliciting a small gasp from you as you feel him caress on top of the fabric of your dress. He curls his fingers into it, fighting the urge to lift it and see what kind of panties you’re wearing underneath. 

“You frightened me,” you say but there’s no accusation in your tone. Instead, he can hear that you’re happy to see him and his hands stay on your body, only going up to your waist, as you straighten, “Where does Dad think you are this time?”

“Restroom,” he answers simply and lets his palms move to lay on your tummy. He leans his head over your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror with a soft smile. When he speaks, it is with paternity lacing his voice, “Ya goin’ out like that?”

“He might think you have bladder issues soon, old man. You can’t just barge in each time you want some sugar,” you tease him, eyes sparkling in competition with the glitter on your blush-covered cheeks. Joel leans in to kiss your neck. He nibbles along your pulse point, inhaling deeply to breathe you in as he reaches where you’ve applied your sweet perfume.

“You smell so good, little fae,” he says instead of acknowledging your jab at his age, the tip of his nose skimming along the delicate column of your throat. Shamelessly, he grabs the hem of your dress and lifts it just enough to start something between the two of you that he cannot finish, “What’ve you got under here?” 

“Joel,” you say with fake outrage and tut disapprovingly. The both of you know that he’ll fuck you at some point tonight. Still, you make a statement out of grabbing his much bigger hands and removing them from your dress. You stretch his arms out in front of you both to keep him out of reach but he is so much stronger than you, manhandling you easily until he catches you in an embrace from behind. Being caged against his broad chest makes you giggle so goddamn heavenly, his body responding with interest in getting you on your back.

“You didn’t answer my question, Princess,” he whispers into your ear, letting his breath tickle your skin until you shiver. 

“About?” You light up the room when you smile innocently at him in the mirror and God, if it doesn’t make his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Your eyes are wide, your grin mischievous. 

“If you’re goin’ out like that,” he tightens his arms around you, focusing on the softness of your palms in his rough ones. He isn’t letting you go before you give him an answer.

“I am,” you lean back into his chest, turning your head away from the mirror to glance up at him through your lashes. You are in the mood to dare tease even further, “Don’t you like it?”

“You know I do. Too much actually,” he murmurs back at you as he takes in your costume once more in the mirror. He notices that you bite your lip as he ogles you, tilting back and forth on your feet while you let him eat you with his eyes. When he finds that you aren’t looking at yourself but rather still batting your eyes up at him, he reaches up to cup your jaw. He turns your face to the mirror, “I’d like it much more behind these walls.”

“I’m not staying here,” you say. Joel lets out an annoyed sigh and shakes his head as if to argue but his head isn’t in it. He feels somewhat secure when your voice sounds a little out of breath, “Besides, you know I’ll always come back home to you. No one makes me feel like you do.”

“You better, sweetheart,” he can almost imagine you shrinking down and flying around in his close proximity just to tease him. He finally moves you around in his arms until you are face-to-face with him and then, still holding you by your chin, he leans in to capture your mouth in a kiss that’s slower and deeper than usual. He brushes your soft tongue with his own, kissing you like he is claiming you and hopefully reminding you of what awaits back home. 

When he pulls back, you’ve gone dumb. There’s a vacancy in your eyes, a dazed look that tells you just how ready you are to melt into him and forget about everything else. Joel would love to keep you home but he’ll settle for the satisfaction he feels from looking at you blink rapidly, “Still with us, little fae?”

“Barely,” you admit with an embarrassed smile. 

“Go have fun,” he encourages with a little smirk and, albeit reluctantly, lets you go but not before giving your ass a playful smack and causing you to yelp quietly, “Before I change my mind.”

“Bye, Daddy,” you whisper to taunt him as you leave out the door, and Joel has to stay behind for several minutes to get his aching cock to flag down. It doesn’t take long since he is an expert now, has learned to join the party downstairs without any trace of what he has been doing to his best friend’s daughter. 

—

The party has been going on for a few hours now, with costumes ranging from elaborate to barely there. The crowd of people crammed into the tiny house is buzzing with exciting fun, resulting in happy bursts of laughter bouncing off the walls along with the music, both of which get louder as drinks are consumed. Yet no matter how many times your friends cause you to throw your head back to laugh along and no matter the three drinks you already have in your system, your mind plays tricks on you and continuously goes back to Joel. The way he had kissed you goodbye earlier still feels imprinted on your lips, haunting you like a ghost and causing your skin to buzz, your thighs to press together. Nothing seems to get you out of this trance, not even the lingering eyes caused by the dangerous hemline of your Tinkerbell costume. The attention feels good, sure, but it is nothing compared to the way Joel makes you feel when he looks at you. 

You take a sip from your fourth drink. You’re supposed to be out having fun, dancing and drinking, but you can think of nothing else than leaving this place and going to his, only so you can slip back into that familiar embrace where you belong, only so you can feel his calloused hands grab your hips as he drags you down onto his—

“Who is he?” You look up to find your best friend staring at you with a knowing smirk. Hannah awaits an answer, quite a few more drinks in than you. She is dressed as a Poison Ivy, complete with green painted skin (which has been smudged off on every surface she’s touched) and her red hair decorated with plastic leaves she has cut off from a fake plant. 

“What are you talking about?” You ask innocently but you betray yourself by not being able to maintain eye contact with her. Your cheeks are warm but if she asks, you’ll say it is due to the alcohol. 

“You’re staring off again,” she notes and her eyes grow more devious. She points the straw from her drink at you and tiny splashes of homemade daiquiri fly in your direction, “I didn’t fly home and go to this party with you to not hear about who you are having sex with.” 

“Who says I am having sex?” You ask with comical indifference which accidentally reveals you in your lie. You rub off a spot of red liquid from your arm, “I’m not.”

“Please,” she dismisses your statement by waving a hand and moving closer to you on the couch. She talks loudly over the music, “You’re either getting continuously laid by some great secret boyfriend or I need to take notice of your skincare routine since you’re practically glowing.”

“Hey, keep it down. I don’t need anyone but you to know,” you shush her with a finger pressed to your lips. There’s no way you’re telling her that your secret boyfriend is Joel Miller… but right now, with alcohol in your bloodstream, it is tempting to let someone else in on the secret that’s been eating at you since June. Perhaps even to brag a little bit.

“You’re acting like seeing a guy is some forbidden romance,” Hannah sighs dramatically but when you smile and shrug, she narrows her eyes just a second before they go wide, “Wait, it is?”

“It’s a secret… because he’s a lot older,” you lean in to make the conversation more private, taking Hannah’s drink out of her hand in case the excitement that looms underneath her surface will make her spill the red liquid onto you. 

Her eyes are nearly bulging out of her skull, “Like how much older are we talking? Silver fox?”

“Old enough to remember dial-up internet and hate my music?” You test the waters and watch her process your words, not sure if her reaction is going to be one of shock or enthusiasm. However, with the amount of questionable things Hannah has gotten herself into over the years, you are more certain that it’ll be the latter. One can never know though. After all, right now you are keeping out the earth-shaking detail that the guy you give your nights to is your father’s very best friend.

A satisfied smile spreads on her face, slowly because she’s intoxicated, “So you’re telling me that you - the girl with a history of pissant boyfriends - have a mature, well-seasoned man in your grasp?” 

You giggle, happiness bubbling up at Hannah’s silly wording but your heartbeat thrums underneath your ribs because how Joel makes you feel is nowhere near previous flirtations; it’s intense, it’s all-consuming, and has you tossing and turning whenever. You can feel your cheeks ache from smiling. With a groan, you lean forward to bump your forehead against her shoulder. 

You earn an embrace in return, squeezed by the arm around your shoulder, “Or maybe he has you in his grasp?”

“I think it’s serious, Hannah, I love him,” you whisper in the crook of her neck just loud enough for her to hear you over the noise around you. There’s a gentle vulnerability in being nearly four drinks in and confessing your love - even if it’s words tumbling out of your mouth - for a boy to your person, the one who came through and gave you her approval without hesitation despite the scandal. 

Hannah pulls back a little, excitement on her face instead of shock. She has always had a tendency to live vicariously through you whenever something exciting happens, and it comes across when she urges you away, “Then what are you doing sitting here with me?” 

“Uhh, spending time with my best friend?” You straighten and raise a brow, stifling a grin.

She rolls her eyes playfully, “We’ve known each other since middle school. I’m sure I can survive a night without you if it means you getting with your mystery man. He’s apparently the love of your life judging by the amount of smiling you’ve done since we started talking about him. Who is it anyway?”

From her tone, you can hear she tries to sound nonchalant about the question at the end. However, the relief of talking to her about your affair with someone off-limits makes you a little too bold, too nonchalant yourself.

“I am seriously putting my life on the line here, so you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you stress, leaning in as far as you can while still looking at her. Your heart races in your chest, your eyes locked onto her widened ones. 

“Of course, of course! Cross my heart and all that,” Hannah sits up a little, almost imitating the way a cat’s ears perk up, “Spill!”

“Joel Miller,” you confess to your sins but much to your surprise, you don’t burst into flames and there is no sound of a record scratch before everyone looks at you in horror. In fact, it feels surprisingly easy and light to tell her. 

Hannah processes the name for a moment before her eyes widen just the tiniest bit more, “Wait what?! Joel Miller as in your dad’s buddy?!”

“Keep it down,” you hiss and shush, “I think someone upstairs didn’t hear you.”

“Sorry,” she is flustered, lowering her voice theatrically, “But this is huge. I mean… Does your dad know?”

You furrow your brow, “Of course, he doesn’t. He’d murder Joel if he found out. Lifetime imprisonment because of manslaughter style.”

Hannah nods in understanding. However, she still seems deep in thought, “But how does that even happen? You’re like… seriously off-limits, aren’t you? That’s bro-code even for boomers.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you recall, your voice taking on a dreamy note, “Just kinda happened. I was having a really difficult time at college and he just— he told me all the right things, then one thing led to another… He makes me feel things that I didn’t even know I needed. I know it’s wrong but—“

“Wrong? You’re a grown woman,” Hannah tuts, “Go see him. What’s the worst thing that could happen? That you probably end up having mind-blowing sex with an experienced man?” 

“You’re really sure it’s okay?” You ask but you are already getting out of your seat next to her. You start absentmindedly fixing your clothes to make sure you look like something out of Joel’s deepest fantasy, straightening out a squashed fairy wing and curling your hair around a finger to make it bounce into place. 

“Jesus, look at you,” she laughs at the way you fuss, “It would be classified as torture if I didn’t let you go, so go! See your silver fox, but just text me when you’re there.”

“I will, thank you, Hannah,” you beam. 

You leave her with giddiness and make excuses to your other friends about a ‘family thing’ when they appear bummed out that you are heading home. The air outside in Texas is still hot in October but you can’t feel warm without Joel’s arms around you. 

You're so sure that your heart says his name as it beats in your chest when you leave for him. 

Joel, Joel, Joel.

—

You stand by his front door not half an hour later, having checked that your parents’ car is not parked in his driveway. The house is quiet except for the soft glow of the floor lamp in his living room and the TV’s light flickering through the curtains. You take it as evidence that he is still awake. 

Just before you knock, you shoot Hannah a text, telling her that you’re here with five exclamation points and she types a barely coherent message back at you. She also wishes you good luck which you know you won’t need because the man opening his front door is so whipped for you. 

Joel says your name in surprise, quickly checking to see if anyone is watching as you twirl on his doorstep in your little green dress. The booze in your blood is making you more courageous than normal even if you aren’t anywhere near plastered. You step inside his house without permission but he doesn’t seem bothered as you saunter into his living room, your heels clicking as you step over the doorstep. He has turned off the TV, almost as if he knew that it was you behind his front door and therefore there would be no more time for lounging. 

“How much has Tink had to drink tonight?” He asks when closing the door. You don’t give him much time to do anything else as you enter his personal space again, caging him hungrily against the door to kiss him with all the heat in your body. 

“Not nearly enough for you to stop touching her, Peter,” you let him know as you take a quick breath, too excited for what he can give you if he allows himself remember to inhale through your nose. You rush back into making out with him but he holds you just out of reach, fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“Peter? I don’t think so, Tink,” he grumbles, large hands sliding down the length of your arms until he can rest them on your hips. His touch makes your cunt clench, desire stirring even further inside of you as you make a mess in your panties. 

“But…” You press your thighs together without any shame. 

Joel holds your waist firmly but then goes further down to cup the tops of your thighs underneath the satin skirt. His hands squeeze obscenely, denting your jiggling skin while his eyes have gone dark to indicate his lust. His fingers are calloused and warm as they graze upon where your panties hug your ass, “Peter ain’t never had the guts to get his hands on Tinkerbell like this. Lemme show ya what a man does to his own, personal little fae.”

He then drags your body against himself to let you feel every inch of him, the outline of his already hardening cock underneath his usual jeans. There’s no way he fucked you silly just a few days ago because your pussy reacts like it’s been craving him for days. 

“This is what good fairies get stuffed with. If they can handle the stretch,” he chuckles darkly. You moan longingly, brows furrowing to make you look slightly dumb as you suddenly become aware of how empty you feel, how much you need him to fill you out and stretch you to the brim. You had marched over here to be alluring to the point of control over him but he touches you and your mind blanks. He won’t fuck you here, told you last time that he prefers his bed so he can take his time. 

“Bedroom. Now, please,” you whine pathetically and reluctantly take a step back. He nods, allowing you to lead him upstairs. You take his hand before it falls to his side from your hip, dragging him through the house and earning a smack to your ass with the hand you aren’t holding. You yelp a little, gush a little more.

By the time you reach his bed, your head is spinning with how horny you are and your belly is swirling with heat. You drop down onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress and he stands between your legs with delicious authority. 

“Lay back and let Daddy take care of his baby,” he commands but his voice is somehow both soft, harsh, and dirty. He watches you lower yourself onto your back, the glittering wings of your costume spread out beneath you and fluttering slightly as you wiggle your hips when tugging up your dress. 

Joel smiles with pride. He lays a warm hand on your knee, slowly gliding it up until his palm rests against your core, and touches you carefully through the fabric. 

“You gotta tell me somethin’,” he whispers with his eyes focused on yours, not needing to see what he is doing because he knows your body so well. He feels how damp your underwear has become, the sensation pulling a low moan from the back of his throat. You nod, words embarrassingly failing you when you are so overcome by your body’s need to have him where you need him the most. However, he is expertly avoiding your clit for now, clearly wanting to get his sentence out before your attention is lost. 

“A little birdie told me that when a man keeps his fae excited and happy, she produces a little extra magic down there, sparklin’ so prettily for him,” he tightens his grip between your legs when your hips start moving on their own accord. He holds you down, rubbing you closer to properly now but it’s still not enough to build anything to a crescendo. However, there’s an urgency to the way he touches you, a mix of frustration and relief now that you’re back here with him, 

“Only for those who know how to bring it out of her,” you finally manage a coherent sentence, a teasing one even, but your breath stutters through it. Your clit pulses in time with your heartbeat by now and as if he has heard your prayers, his thumb finally presses down on the hard little nub before going in mind-altering circles. 

“Then I just gotta make sure I show ya that I am the only one who can make enough magic spill from you to light up this whole damn house,” he growls, using his fingers expertly until you are on the brink of coming, “And every bit of that magic, honey? It’s mine. I ain’t stoppin’ until you’re glowing, little fae.”

You come so hard that your mind blocks out all other senses for a split second, your pussy going off into spasms that have you arching your back like you might actually float off the bed. You whimper at the oversensitivity that he teases out of you with featherlight touches. 

He pushes your pelvis down when it lifts itself up and snaps without anger in his voice. Instead, his voice is laced with lust, an octave deeper and threatening, “No moving away or I’ll pluck your pretty little wings off.”

The threat makes you moan, eyes widening as you stare at his face like a trapped animal. You can see how much Joel’s eyes darken at your reaction, unable to understand how he hasn’t ripped your panties yet to screw your brains out. 

“Wouldn’t want that, would ya? Unable to fly away?” He smirks deviously and draws back to undo your golden stilettos, his hand that isn’t working the lock holding your calf firmly. He presses kisses to your ankle too and is so delicate with your shoes even as he drops them onto the floor. 

“No,” you whimper and shake your head. You can’t bear telling him the truth which is that you want nothing more than being a wingless little fae, completely at his mercy. You imagine being tied to the bed with nothing to keep him from using you how he pleases and your chest feels alight. 

Teasingly, you slide your foot up along his arm until you can rest it comfortably on his shoulder. He allows it and turns his head to kiss just below your ankle in response.

“Then be a good girl and stay right where Daddy put you,” he rasps, letting his strong hands glide up the length of your legs. He squeezes your thighs gently as he passes over them, a part of your body that he would categorize as his favorite if you asked him to choose. When he inches his fingertips up under your skirt, the anticipation in the air nearly makes your body want to crawl away because what you will get from him will be too much. You shiver when he starts tugging your panties down, the white lace impossibly damp right at where your pussy has sat. 

When he drags them all the way off, lifting the leg on his shoulder briefly, his eyes settle right between your thighs. You clench involuntarily at being watched, slick dripping onto his bed sheets as you pulse for his gaze. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips as he stares without shame, taking in every inch of you as you are laid bare for him. The sight of the heat he’ll slide into has his jaw tightening, his breathing growing irregular. When he is satisfied with his inspection, his eyes lift and he gives you a look that could melt you right into the bed. 

“Look at this little pussy. It’s glistenin’ f’me, the magic’s pouring from it,” he says while he slides his fingers through your folds with slow and tantalizing strokes, the leftovers of your last orgasm still lingering as he taps your clit and causes you to squeak. 

“Yeah? Does it look pretty for you?” You ask deliriously and catch your bottom lip between your teeth to whine, lifting your hips up despite the rules and basically presenting your cunt like a gift. 

“So goddamn pretty, little fae. Do you want me to touch it properly this time? Inside to make those wings flutter?“ Joel’s threat is apparently less serious now that he’s got a glimpse between your legs. He turns his wrist so he can hook his fingers upward, rubbing your cunt teasingly around where you want him to sink into. He enters you to the first knuckle, applying the slightest pressure inside of you, only to draw back and make you lose your mind. 

“You’re teasing me,” you state the obvious, breathless and squirming underneath his ministrations. You push your hips to meet his hand, “Please, Daddy, I need it so badly. Don’t you wanna slip inside and feel how tight I am?”

“Then spread those legs for me,” he orders you in a gruff voice, clearly affected by your words. He reaches with his free hand to lift your leg off his shoulder and plants your foot firmly on the bed. You mirror it with your other leg until you can let both of them fall out to the sides. 

“You want me to get a towel, baby? We haven’t done that in a while,” he smirks at you knowingly, a certain glint in his eye as he asks. You know exactly what he is referring to and he chuckles when you answer by nodding eagerly with wide eyes, looking like a kid in a candy store being offered their favorite sweet. 

“That’s my girl, so eager to feel good,” he praises with a warm smile and rises from his position. He peels off his t-shirt, throwing it in your face - a fairly new habit of his - so you can drown in his smell before exiting the room to head for the bathroom, stepping out of his jeans on the way there. You curl your fingers into the fabric, bringing it to your nose to inhale deeply. Joel’s shirt smells of cotton and faded aftershave, mixed with something unmistakably him; a hint of sweat from being in the Texas sun, his wood-scented deodorant that still lingers. It’s enough to make you even wetter.

He comes back a moment later, towel in hand. He watches you clutching his shirt, having smeared the golden glitter on your face onto it, your pretty eyes nearly rolling back and your hips wiggling to no avail. 

“Ain’t you worked up, sweetheart? I’ve barely gotten started with you. Are all faes so greedy between their legs?” He taunts as he slides the towel beneath your hips, flattening it out neatly while you hold your breath in his proximity. He yanks the shirt out of your grip and stares down at you. Your costume is so messy by now, the green dress sitting around your hips to obscenely make you look like a thing used for shoving one’s dick in, and the translucent wings are slightly crumpled by your impatient wiggling around, your cunt’s search for pleasure. 

“Please, Daddy, need you to make me come,” you whimper and earn a look of pity. Joel moves to kneel on the floor by the bed, leaning over the edge of the bed until his upper body is between your thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his ring- and middle finger into you, rewarding your desperation by curling his digits upward just in the right way.

“Oh,” you let out a slow, breathy moan when he finds the right spot inside you in just a few seconds, the one that has a direct line to your clit. Joel smiles at his immediate success, watching you with the pride of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing in his quest to undo you. 

“Right there, huh? God, you’re so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs lowly, his tone affectionate and aroused. He pushes his fingers deeper into you until his index finger and pinky brush your ass and then makes a come-hither motion inside of you. You can feel a lump form in your throat, the flesh of your ass and thighs jiggling from the effort he puts into fucking you with his thick digits.

“You’re so good at that, mmm… Daddy,” you only just manage to say before you choke on a whine as he creates electricity within you, your voice breaking and trembling with desperation. You are well aware of how pathetic you sound, how needy, but you don’t care because you can feel the tension building with each stroke inside of you. With his thumb, he reaches out and swirls it around your clit, and you know he can feel how hard it has gotten in its aroused state; a little bump underneath the tip of his finger. It is so sensitive now too, making you wetter with each little push against it. 

You throw your head back and draw in a desperate breath, wanting so badly to swear at the sensation of him fucking you open like he has been thinking about it all day. Yet it doesn’t feel worth it to break the rules of using foul language, resulting in having him halt his doings. Instead, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth and reach for your chest to relieve some of the tension in your body. 

You cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them to add another dimension to the way Joel is touching you. He swears below you at the way you clench around his fingers when you catch your nipples between two fingers, tugging to intensify the sensation between your thighs. 

“You are so sexy like that, Tink,” Joel murmurs softly in praise. He leans down to kiss your belly, kiss your inner thigh, and all the way up to your knee too. He keeps the relentless rhythm of his fingers but then also rests his free hand on your stomach just below your belly button, knowing that this is how he made you squirt the first time. He pushes down on your belly to add that final touch, and it is almost too much, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

Your legs start to tremble in Joel’s peripheral vision, in need of being held down by Joel’s strong arm so he doesn’t lose his grip on the intense orgasm he has built up inside of you. Your eyes start to roll back and a high-pitched whimper escapes you as he has you teetering on the edge. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are so goddamn close, ain’t you? Glowin’ f’me so prettily. Come on, come for Daddy, baby. He put in so much work,” he talks you over the edge in the next moment, holding your cunt in an iron grip as you suddenly clamp down on his digits and start shuddering violently. He keeps his fingers inside of you, pressing them firmly against your g-spot while simultaneously rubbing your clit in taught little circles. It makes you gush all over his hand, soaking the towel beneath you as wave after wave comes crashing. 

You have been vocal throughout the whole thing, sure, but it is nothing compared to your cries right now as relieving pleasure wracks through your lower body and makes you sob. 

“God, you make Daddy so hard,” you hear Joel say but there’s a fog wrapped around your mind like a woolen blanket. When you feel yourself gushing again, it’s so intense that tears are spilling down your cheeks and the fabric of your dress clings to your sweat-slicked body. You feel slightly claustrophobic in the moment but you have no control of your body, so you let Joel’s soothing words guide you through an orgasm that’ll be worth bragging about to Hannah. 

When it finally ebbs out, Joel eases his fingers out and makes you mewl. He wipes his hand on the towel and then soothingly strokes along your thighs as you try to relish in your post-orgasmic bliss. 

However, you start tugging on your dress instead, desperately trying to escape its confines while you pant in the aftermath. You are still so fucked out that it doesn’t come off during your attempt, your hands shaking and a whine making Joel gently chuckle. 

“Stop, stop, lemme help you,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, taking your wrists in his hands to stop your desperate effort. You let out a soft plea for him, pouting for show as you follow orders and he guides you to sit, slow as he moves you in case your head is still woozy. He reaches behind you and up under the fairy wings to undo the zipper of the green dress, pausing for a moment before deciding to tug the fabric downward instead of up over your head. The garment slips down until it sits around your waist. He pushes you down onto your back again so he can ease it past your hips and off your legs. 

He stands there for a moment more before tugging his underwear down his legs, quickly kicking them to the side, and then he just stares. You feel cherished by him when he touches you but it’s different when he just looks; you feel sexy underneath his gaze. You know you’re a sight to behold when he swallows thickly, a disheveled little naked fae with her wings bent from how well she’s been fucked. 

Finally, he crawls on top of you. He presses close to you, pulling your leg over his waist as he catches your mouth in a long, drawn-out kiss that perfectly displays the affection and hunger within him. You kiss him back, sighing softly into his mouth and reaching up to run your hands over his broad shoulders, eventually settling them on the back of his head. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug him back to your mouth each time he needs a breath, whispering to him during the mere seconds you are without each other. 

“Need you, baby,” you pant softly, lips sensitive from kissing so feverishly until your body feels ready for more without the risk of combusting on the sheets. Joel’s cock is hard against your thigh, and he can’t stop murmuring half sentences as he crashes his crotch into your hip with a low moan while telling you just how good it will feel to be inside you. 

“Yeah? This little pussy needs to get fucked?” He cups your face and dives into your mouth anew. 

“Yeah,” you moan breathily with a nod, brushing your tongues together in the new filthy kiss, “Need you to make me your little fucktoy, Daddy. That’s all I’m good for.”

“That’s right, Tink,” he growls, his eyes having darkened at your obscene words. With a hint of reluctance, he pulls away from you so he can flip you onto your stomach. With a firm grip on your hips, he helps you up onto your hands and knees. 

It’s a struggle to hold yourself up but you stiffen, quickly finding your bearings, as Joel raises his hand a little in the air before giving you a firm smack on your ass. The sting makes you gasp, your fingers clutching the sheets below you. He soothes the pain, speaking as someone put together even if his ragged breathing gives him away, “Who do ya belong to, little fae?”

“Y-you,” you stammer, your voice wavering but still holding a tinge of eagerness. He smacks you again, this time harder so the sound bounces off the walls. 

“And who am I?” He demands, not satisfied with your simple answer. 

“Daddy,” you plead with a feeble cry, clenching around nothing and feeling a bead of slick drip from your clit. 

“That’s right,” he gruffs. Even though it is unnecessary with how soaked you are from your arousal and Joel’s impressive generosity tonight, he still spits into his hand and coats his thick length in it. He aligns with your dripping slit and breaches you with the tip of his cock. 

A whimper tumbles from your mouth and he shushes you gently. He is so big inside of you that everything hurts just enough to make you whine feebly but at the same time, he feels just right inside you as he slips in right to the hilt. There’s a looming yet exciting danger of him being in complete control in this position but he is so careful with you as he starts fucking you. Well, as careful as a man can be when he gets to be balls-deep in Tinkerbell. 

You groan at the feeling of him having his way with you. He has reached the point where he has little patience left from putting his own needs aside for too long, longing to use you to spill into. You are overstimulated by the two highs he has already pulled from you. It intensifies the sensation of him effortlessly slipping in and out of your slick cunt, so much so that you don’t last long in this position and end up with your face in the mattress.

“Ah–... ah,” you squeak each time he bottoms out, mercilessly letting you feel the depth of each stroke and keeping you panting under his weight, almost dizzy with how hard he is inside your soft heat.

“You like that?” He presses you down further into the mattress by planting his hand firmly on the back of your neck as a clear, dominant gesture that holds you in place for him to drive into you even harder.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Daddy," you manage to gasp out, your words muffled by the bedding as your body shudders under the force of his thrusts. Each of your words stutters along with your breathing, each movement of his harsh rhythm makes his hips crash into your ass.

Joel's grip on the back of your neck tightens just a little, his breaths coming out in shallow pants while a growl leaves him, “Just fuckin’ take it, baby. You can do it.”

“You feel so fu—“ you catch yourself in your delirious state of mind, yet again not about to be punished for breaking the rule of swearing. That’s only allowed by the real grownups, so you swallow around a little gasp and pretend like it almost didn't happen, “You feel so good, Daddy.”

Suddenly, he rakes his hand down your spine, through the sweat that is beading there and grabs your hips. He drags you onto your hands and knees, your tits bouncing as he knocks all wind out of you when he begins thrusting again. 

You make a noise in the very back of your throat, a sudden surge of pleasure through your body at the new angle making you realize how close you are again. You are sweating, you are crying with actual tears spilling down your cheeks, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, and God, you just need a little help getting there.

“Harder,” you plead pathetically, craving his cock right against the spot inside of you that he might as well label as his own, “Please, I can take it, Daddy.”

It is the truth; you’re practically molded into a sheath for his cock only from how many times he has fucked you since the beginning of the summer. However, at the same time, it feels like you can barely take anymore he has to give, so stuffed that you think you’re about to lose control. 

“Shh,” he soothes your sobs, voice softening in beautiful contrast to his relentless pace, “Daddy’s got ya. Daddy’s happy to give you - shit, baby - to give you whatcha need.”

“Ah!” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the pleasure right around the corner. It makes you able to hear how the bed is squeaking, how the headboard is continuously slamming against the wall. 

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna come on it?” You hear him behind you and in response, you nod frantically when no intelligible words come out. He splays a hand on your back and gives you his all to get you there, “God, I love to see you act like a cockdrunk little fae.”

“Mhm!” Your cries turn to high-pitched keens as your orgasm catches up with you and hits you like a bolt of lightning. You are done for, trembling through the strong pulses between your legs as you come hard enough to wipe your mind. Behind you, Joel groans as your walls try to trap his cock in a grip that has him faltering just for a moment. However, he quickly regains his momentum so he can fuck you through each overwhelming wave. 

“Well done, baby. Good girl comin’ on my cock,” he praises through gritted teeth and you can imagine the slightly angry face he has on as he feels his own climax speed towards him, “Daddy’s gonna fill you up right now.” 

“Really?” You ask dreamily with your eyes closed in the middle of your afterglow, a dazed smile on your face. Bliss is not the right word, too much mind-numbing and brain-quietening exhaustion following it. Behind you, Joel is still pounding into your squelching cunt but you can do nothing more than giggle happily in between sweet moans whenever he hits something just right. 

The giggles cause you to tighten around his girth, squeezing him just enough for him to swear loudly at the exquisite feeling your body wrapped around him. He lets go because he can’t hold back anymore, coming inside of your pussy with controlled, hard thrusts that wipe the little smile off your face because air gets knocked out of you. 

“Yes, please gimme your come, Daddy, please give it to me,” you urge him and furrow your brows, practically drooling down onto the sheets as he abuses your pussy in his blissful state. He is so deep inside of you as he spurts, coating your velvety walls in his thick and generous load. It feels so fucking good. Nothing like anything a good little fairy would ever do. You even start thanking him, panting as you say the words over and over again.

“Christ, baby,” he moans behind you, “So goddamn dirty for Daddy.”

You whimper when he leaves you empty a moment later, causing you to collapse onto your front with your hands resting underneath your cheek and your fingers curling into the sheets. You want to bite into the bed, your head swimming with how good and fucked out you feel. 

Joel moves to lie down next to you, his body halfway on its side so he can kiss your sweat-glistening shoulder. He moves upwards when you shiver at the first touch of his lips, dragging his mouth up to your warm cheek. He plants a kiss right by the corner of your mouth, and you absentmindedly reach out to stroke along his jaw. 

“That was so good,” you say with a tiny moan. 

“You are so perfect,” he praises lovingly. He moves to lie down on top of your limp body, crushing you so heavenly with his weight as his chest sticks to your back. The wings of your costume crumble, flattening from being squashed. His arms envelop you and a large hand brushes a bit of loose hair away from your neck. He dips down to kiss just below the base of your skull and you find yourself automatically stretching your neck for even more. He showers you in kisses, lips trailing up and down your throat until you feel a burning need to breathe him in further, to be even closer. 

You whine like a child, wiggling underneath the weight of him until he shifts to lie beside you again. He drags you close to his warm chest, planting a broad palm on your back and you respond by scooting forward to climb even further into his arms. Frustration bubbles up in your chest because it doesn’t feel like he is close enough, not even when you whimper and bury your face in the crook of his warm neck. He chuckles affectionately above you, cradling you like you are the most precious thing he owns, and rests his lips on your disheveled hair. 

“Joel…” You whisper and try to tug at him even more, your arms going under his so you can be flush against him and mold together with his much stronger embrace. You grab at his shoulders, had no idea that there could be such a loud and powerful yearning in your chest for someone you already have.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer. You feel his hand move gently along your naked back, trying to soothe you as you continuously try to shift yourself even closer in his arms though you’re already as close as you can get. 

“It’s not close enough,” you complain feebly and shift once more, a bit of embarrassment flowing through you at how needy you come off. It’s rare that you feel like this but the conversation you had with Hannah earlier has your head in a lovesick spin. The need for Joel is unmatched by anything you have ever felt because this state of mind isn’t fuelled by desire anymore - you have already gotten that out of your system - but rather an all-consuming need for love. 

Joel shushes you gently when you whine once more and squeezes you tightly to relieve your discontent, coaxing your impatient and restless body to calm down. He talks gently and says your name, his voice reverberating through his chest, “Look at me.”

You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, and he smiles one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. He whispers, “I love you.”

And then he reaches up slowly to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He dips down to kiss you softly on the lips, grounding you further and making your mind go quiet. It’s not rushed, not as passionate as the kisses you’ve shared just moments before but it’s sweeter than honey. 

As you let your guard down fully with a mind completely blank, a sentence slips from your mouth without a second thought. It’s not something you planned to say but you have no control over your actions when he kisses you like that.

“Guess what?” You giggle, lost in his eyes. 

“What, babydoll?” He smiles down at you.

“I told Hannah about us,” you confess, another wave of giddiness washing over you at the excitement. 

However, it quickly passes over you as Joel’s face shifts to an expression of something concerned, tingeing on angry but mostly just unpleasant. Immediately, his jaw tightens, “You did what?”

Your face drops along with your stomach. You try to find the words to calm him but when you open your mouth there are no words that fit. His stare is so intense, laced with frustration and paranoia that makes your throat start tingling with tears. 

“Joel—“ you croak when he pulls back a little, the distance between you feeling unnaturally cold. 

“Do you have any idea what could possibly happen if she lets this slip?” He doesn’t look at you, rolling onto his back to rest the back of his thumbs against his forehead, “You should have talked to me about this first.” 

“Joel, she would never— I trust her!“ You insist but you mostly just hear yourself sounding like a child. You want to defend your choice even further but he is already interrupting you with a dangerous chuckle.

“That’s not the damn point, honey. People talk, people slip up. You think we’re goin’ to be in the shadows for much longer now?” He sits up, hands on his bent knees. 

“You’re acting insane,” you say bitterly and sit up as well, anger bubbling up in your own chest at his condescending tone and suddenly, you find yourself fighting his lecture. You bite back, “It’s not that big a deal. It’s not fun for me to hide all the time because you’re scared.”

“No, don’t you dare twist this ‘round on me when you are out there runnin' your mouth,” he growls, making you flinch when his voice is louder than you have ever heard it before, “I - opposed to you - am tryna protect what we have.”

You can hear your pulse in your ears, “You know what? Stop pretending like this is for my own good when it feels like you are just protecting yourself. Actually, maybe you should ask yourself if this is what you really want.”

Joel scoffs, suddenly hauntingly calm in his tone once more and you miss the warm tinge that his voice always has when he speaks to you, “Maybe I am some kind of fool for thinkin’ we could ever work. Maybe if we were closer in age, it’d be easier. Maybe if I didn’t have a past with your family, and I hadn’t known you since you were a kid then this wouldn’t feel so goddamn wrong.”

The words hit like a punch. Your anger mingles with hurt. It doesn’t feel fair to attack your age like he is because you cannot change it, and that’s the worst part of it. In a feeble attempt to defend yourself, you go for the killing blow. 

“You think you’re the fool here? I let myself fall in love with you,” you falter with a tremble in your voice but then get a hold of yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, “I laughed at your jokes and I let you fuck me because I thought you weren’t going to run the second things got hard. Well congratulations; you got to play self-righteous to make yourself feel better. You are the biggest fucking coward, Miller.”

The second you see the glimpse of hurt in his eye, you regret every syllable yet your stupid pride makes you hold onto the image that you meant every one. You realize your wording, that you have talked about him as if you and him are in the past, and you flex the muscles in your throat to stop yourself from bursting into tears even if your face burns.

“I’ll make it real easy for ya then, sweetheart,” he says coolly, and suddenly, his weight is gone from the mattress and your heart is screaming for him to stay. You watch him move to pick up his clothes and dress quickly, not bothering to fix the way his shirt sits askew on his torso because the determination on his face tells you that he is desperate to leave. 

You clutch around your knees when he bolts from the room, listen to the sound of his feet on the stairs as he descends them, and then finally flinch when the front door slams hard enough to make the whole house rattle. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, the air leaving you shakily.

A single tear rolls down your face, followed by another but you swallow down the grief that comes with how final this interaction seems. Something about it tells you that you won’t see him for a while now, and not just because you are going back to school soon. 

With shame, you slowly rise off the bed. Your body is sore, sensitive, and aching between your thighs, and you are still covered in evidence from having sex with him. Feeling him on you despite his absence is usually a thing you relish in but in this moment, it just feels like a cruel reminder of what you might not get to have in the future.

You sit down on the toilet to pee, your knees falling inwards and your body sagging from the exhaustion of what you have just been through. The heartache is so raw, sitting tightly in your throat as a lump that you can barely swallow around while you do your business and afterward mechanically take a shower and clean yourself up in front of the sink. 

When you reenter the bedroom, it feels like you are an intruder and this is your crime scene. You scan the room for your things but cruelly, your eyes fall on one of Joel’s shirts hanging on the back of the chair at the desk. It is already worn, hasn’t been thrown in the laundry basket yet. Ideally, you shouldn’t walk home in the skimpy outfit you arrived in and so, you’re tempted to put it on - if not only to let his familiar scent envelop you - but you cannot risk it. The last thing you need is to walk into your parents’ house wearing his clothes, walk in with the smell of him lingering on you. 

So instead, you slip back into your Tinkerbell costume in the emptiness of Joel’s bedroom, not even the ghost of him lingering, trying not to think about how excited you had been about dressing up for him just a few hours ago. 

—

Your father is in the living room when you quietly enter the house again. You try to sneak past him, hoping that the low hum of the TV will distract him from your footsteps, but as you move past the doorway, he catches you off guard. 

“You’re home early?” He says but it is a question as well as a statement. He reaches for the remote to turn down the volume but when he sees your face, he furrows his brows and turns off the television altogether. 

You force a little smile, “Yeah, just wasn’t feeling it.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, pushing himself to stand in the soft glow of the reading light, “C’mere for a second.”

Reluctantly, you make your way to stand in front of him, your heels clicking on the floorboards. Your shoulders sag as you stop in front of his tall frame, and he studies you for a moment before nudging you with the warmth of his voice, “Did something happen tonight, honey?” 

“No,” you say shakily, avoiding his gaze as your throat feels tight, “No, it was a great party but I was just too tired.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly, reaching out to lay his hands on your shoulders. His palms are warm and you’re cold from walking home with a barely dried-off body and no jacket since you bolted out the door. You stare into his eyes, lip trembling as he continues, “I can see you’re not okay. Did something happen?”

You wish that you could say that it is nothing because the reality of it is cruel, ten thousand miles between what he thinks he understands and the truth that you must keep painfully lodged in your chest, taking up too much space for your heart. However, the dam breaks at the gentleness he shows you, the love burning beneath his concern, and suddenly, a sob breaks free. 

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close with his hand rubbing your back. You know you don’t deserve his reassurance as he coos in your ear, has no clue how complicated things are. 

You shake in his embrace, your tears wetting the shoulder of his soft shirt. He kisses your hair affectionately, squeezing you while his protective words rumble in his chest, “Listen to me. I need you to tell me if someone hurt you, okay? I won’t be mad. I just wanna help.”

“It’s not like that,” you reassure him and in response, you can feel him relax a little bit as he holds you, sighing in relief. You sniffle, resting your cheek against his chest, “I just got close to someone and it got complicated. He said some things that— I mean, I did too but it really hurt, Dad.”

“You’re allowed to make mistakes, to care for people who maybe don’t deserve it but don’t let anyone make you feel small,” he pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, pauses for a moment before continuing, “If this person don’t treat you right… maybe it’s time to reconsider how much space they take up in your life.”

“Yeah… maybe you’re right, thanks, Dad,” you reply with enough conviction that he gives you a smile, proud to have gotten through to you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the person you are talking about is the only person that you cannot avoid either, the only person who can break both of your hearts.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[raeinyourdreams]

'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader

pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader

tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.

wc: 2k!!

a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated

'call it what you want, just know these are yours now.'

you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.

you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.

on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.

obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.

up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.

so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.

"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.

"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.

"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.

but you weren't other people, you were different.

the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.

with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.

you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."

"like hell you are." "neither are you."

he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.

sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.

it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.

he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.

"nah, just came to see you.. sway."

a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.

you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.

slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.

as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.

one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.

"you're scared."

"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.

"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.

you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.

"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.

"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."

the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.

"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."

slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.

“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”

the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.

“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.

“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.

with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.

pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.

additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰

taglist: @allen-444

[taylorkellysburneraccount]

Ignoring how fucking annoying specific parts of this fandom will be, yeah, this feels like everything involved was misaligned. Like, having Henren's story end in two-three episodes, continuing the series regular tradition of doing nothing with Josh if he isn't either taking up Maddie's role when she isn't there or being her gay bestie, making every scene with Eddie about how straight he is, and now doing the most out of nowhere break up for the only other main queer couple since Michael's actor torpedoed the last one.

I think, we might have to come to terms with the fact that...this is getting to be glee levels of bad. The shout out was a warning, we are about to get terrible plot lines from the worst parts of fandom because everyone involved were not ready for the actual implications of making a bisexual main.

And the way Oliver talks about bisexuality, I am sorry I know he's like your fave but as a bisexual man it sounds like he has never talked to a bisexual once in his life. I genuinely am kinda grossed out with the way he talked about Buck needing to immediately have a sex montage but ~gay~ now that he's bisexual. Like, that's all you can think to do with his character? Are you 15, you are a grown man Oliver maybe Josh should've given a gay speech to YOU.

That's probably the most disappointing thing, because it feels like they genuinely don't even want to do Buddie, so this breakup won't even satisfy the weirdos who went full homophobe to defend a ship that wasn't even under attack.

Like at least Glee had in universe reasons to do things, they took place in a school so adding replacements to avoid cutting out the school sets they had while splitting the run time with the now graduated cast members made sense no matter how poor the execution. It genuinely feels like the writers took the first thing they saw in the tags, and went "lets actually give NO PAY OFF."

Also is it just me or was Maddie written weird as fuck in the josh and buck scene. The "turning men gay" joke about Abby came out of nowhere and kinda uncomfortably so?

[obscurecurse]

i was thinking about chay's sad-in-the-club look, which includes a heavy/(imo)kim-coded chain:

...and so i did something so goddamned normal: i examined all jewelry kim & chay wear in the whole show to see if i could extract any meaning. (one of my favorite things about QL is the subtext they sneak into wardrobe details.) this was really for my own analysis but, tumblr, i like to share. my entire educational career people have cheated off MY TESTS, OK?

kim often wears a single, Heavy curb/cuban/herring chain, but sometimes he stacks (wears TWO):

so i'm like... did kim give chay that chain? it's the same length.

also, like, having loved men who wear chains b4. these are moments where the chain is visible, but sometimes, if it's not, they're still wearing it and it's just tucked under their shirt - against the skin.

bookclub - do the chains themselves represent bond/connection?

(also... as a guitar player, i do want to point out. kim also almost always has a chain on his LEFT wrist. the left hand is the one that forms the chords on the neck of the guitar. you strum with your dominant hand, so, uh, idk, that's something.)

he also has a safety pin one (EMO.):

but, chat, what fucks me up about that is that chay has a CARABINER. which kind of matches/mirrors kim's? the icon is a similar shape/it's a similar chain length. carabiners are for Holding Weight (keys - if you're gay, rock climbing, etc) whereas safety pins are for STABBING layers together. mechanically, functionally, they are similar, but how they actually achieve the connection is fundamentally different in operation. the bar scene is the only time they are wearing their respective safety pin and carabiner congruently - which is... SOMETHING.

extra emo tho, the barbed wire:

(sidenote - kim's "bitch, if you cry then i will fucking cry too" face gets me every time. he is so LIKE THAT all the time.)

kim has this one more complicated chain for his pivotal moments, and it's closer to the throat?:

chay also has what i will refer to as a Dog Tag (i can't tell what the engraving is) which he wears for most of their "fake relationship"/in confessions:

there wasn't really a smoking gun here. i actually think i want to examine Chay's jewelry as it relates to Porsche's, as well as Kim's in relation to his brothers'. i kind of had kimchay tunnel vision but i think... Kinn doesn't wear chains at all? if that's true, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? WHAT DOES THE CHAIN REPRESENT?

also, some times kim is - confirmed - not wearing chains: when he and chay spend the night together (WHICH MEANS HE TOOK IT OFF SOMETIME AFTER THEY TALKED AT THE STUDIO???) when he pulls chay from the warehouse, and when he confronts him at the club, when he shows up at school/in uniform.

taking a chain off/tucking it to fight kind of makes sense - though he doesn't tuck it for the bar scene? so like kim behaving "unchained" literally is SOMETHING!!!!!!!! aint it?

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hello! Would you do how Anselm, Nathan and the Moon Boys handle/be with a person with tremors/general shakiness? No rush!

Of course, I hope I did this justice! <3

Tremors

Multiple Oscar Isaac Characters x gn!Reader • Rating: 18 + pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: Fluff, mention of sexy times, mention of murder (Anselm's gotta shoot someone), not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 509

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

Steven Grant

Researches and then does lots of different relaxation techniques with you to see if any of them help reduce the shaking.

Literally becomes a walking encyclopaedia of information on the subject.

Will loudly dress down anyone who dares to say anything rude.

“Relaxing is meant to help, love, yeah?” Then proceeds to make you come against his mouth until you beg him to stop.

Tells you he loves you and kisses the area/s that are shaking.

Marc Spector

Marc’s the king of acts of service, he just wants to be helpful. If the tremors are getting too much for you he would quietly offer to help, whether it’s dressing, writing, cooking, whatever you need. But will always ask first. He doesn’t want to baby you or be over the top.

Goes to any doctor’s appointments and listens quietly. He makes notes for you so that you can refer to them later. Will only speak if it seems like the doctor is talking over you/not taking you seriously.

Gives you a massage to help relax you.

Tuts at Steven for overstimulating you with oral sex, then gets you to cockwarm him until you feel like jelly.

Jake Lockley

Holds your hands, a lot. Especially if you get self-conscious about any shaking. 

Will definitely joke about you wrapping your fingers around his dick when the tremors are bad to make you smile and tut at him.

“Amor, maybe I should fuck you until you’re shaking from exhaustion instead?” 

You giggle but he gets an earful from Marc about his lackluster jokes. 

Fucks you into the mattress until you’re too blissed out to care about anything.

Nathan Bateman

Spends days designing equipment to help you. Depending on what causes the tremors affects what he’s going to do, whether it’s something for you to wear that helps with the shaking or just tools that will counteract the movement, or a mixture of both.

Never mentions it until you bring it up first.

Likes to hold you and wrap his arms around you. You apologised once for your shaking and how it must be disturbing him.

He told you how much he actually liked it, “feels like a massage chair.” He’d teased, but you realised he was so hopelessly in love with you that he finds absolutely everything about you to be attractive. 

Doesn’t bring up the idea of intimacy to help relax you first, but once you do he’s quick to ask every time after.

Anselm Vogelweide

Very gentle. Whatever you need you’re getting. And if anyone even says something that remotely upsets you, they’re getting shot. 

Flies in every specialist to help.

Threatens to burn anything/anyone to cinders who causes you any stress.

Some shaking started/increased once when an associate raised his voice once and you thought he was going to pull out the man’s eyes and shove them up his ass.

With your permission, he likes to tie you up and fuck you senseless. “See, my love? No shaking when you’re bound up so beautifully.” 

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

Thank you for reading!

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[utilitycaster]

actually taking the last bit out of the tags of that post because here is the thing. and I'm going to use specific examples, because I think it's illustrative.

the two groups of people in this fandom who have specifically harassed me have been, as I've said before, imo/dna fans mad I don't find the ship very good, and (to be fair, only on one occasion) shadowido/mauk fans who got mad that I said that tagging ao3 fic about throuples with individual pairs sucks. [hilariously the latter was not even about them at all, it was about me looking for imogen and fearne ship fic that wasn't witchy trio fic and finding it almost impossible to filter].

I do not like these people because they have engaged with harassment. It is not about identity; it is about actions. My closest friend, and the first non-family member I talked to on Wednesday morning, is a bi woman in an open marriage to a woman, with a longterm male partner. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding. The last time I visited her, in September, I was joined by other mutual friends, who are similarly in an open marriage with longterm partners and at least one relationship between two women.

I am entirely secure, in my personal life, that I am kind and accepting to queer women (of which I am one) and to poly people (of which I am not), and so I hope you can appreciate that if someone attempts to attack me on the internet on these grounds because I do not have the same exact opinions on pretend people kissing, my response isn't "oh my god I should go off and die because I'm a terrible person," it's "get a load of this moron making wild assumptions about my personal life based on a single data point in my preferences in fiction; I'm going to make them regret doing this to me, and hopefully anyone else, because this is genuinely a detrimental behavior in the fandom space." And also, you know what. If they were a homeless person on the street and asked for a dollar I would still give it to them if their attacks were merely verbal (yes, I know the idea of someone screaming "YOU'RE A LESBOPHOBE FOR HATING IMO/DNA can i have a dollar" outside the grocery store is rather comical, and I think that is how you need to consider statements like "um actually I won't help pro-shippers." Imagine that conversation happening in an irl activist group. Everyone would be like "uh...anyway, how do we fight back against this hostile bench architecture.")

I think right now it is vitally important to remember what actual bigotry looks like and what needs to be fought, and the reason I tapped the sign of this post last night is literally that I think you are wasting time and energy engaging with people who think bigotry is "criticizing the pretend guy Ashton Greymoore for concrete but pretend choices they made" when I also think most people criticizing Ashton would, if Ashton were real, still toss them change if they needed it, or are people who currently donate to or otherwise work with local programs that assist nb people, disabled people, or unhoused children.

I like to argue and I like to engage in fandom and I will continue doing that because it is a source of enjoyment and comfort for me, but I really urge everyone to ask yourself "am I arguing about genuinely different readings, or do I think that everyone who doesn't like my blorbo ship is a bad person" because if it's the latter, I think you need to nip that in the bud of online fandom before it grows into something darker and worse. A lot of irl hate and bigotry starts from a place of "everyone who doesn't agree with me and give me what I want all the time is wrong and evil" and perhaps I am too optimistic, but I think many people who say things like that in fandom just are caught up in the drama of it all and are capable of exercising empathy when they stop treating shipping or interpretation like a popularity contest that, if they lose, indicates that everyone around them is irredeemable. But I also think it can be the start of a really bad path.

[owlgirl495]

ok, so i know i rarely actually post my own words on here but with the last 911 episode i’ve been wanting to say something.

i’ve been reading a lot of what people have written (and i’ve added my own thoughts in the tags of many posts) but now that i’ve had time to process a little, see what others are saying, and talk to my irl friends about it a little, there’s one thing that i’ve only seen mentioned like once and i wanna talk about some more. more people have probably mentioned this and i just probably haven’t seen it and these thoughts are subject to change and all that but here we go:

it makes me really upset how little of buck and tommy’s relationship we actually got to see. and i know that they can’t focus on a side plot like that for a super long time and that it’s not the bucktommy show but i was actually okay with only getting scraps until the breakup and here’s kind of why.

they’ve been dating for six months. SIX MONTHS. and they seem to know NOTHING about each other. and i truly didn’t get this vibe until the last episode (8x06) and i think that’s why it feels so off for me.

at the end of season 7 they looked like they were really trying to get to know each other both on and off screen, they were talking about important things with each other, and actually trying to have real conversations. and then in season 8 there’s just none of that.

i didn’t think anything of it at first because i figured they just had those conversations off-screen in the FOUR MONTHS we didn’t see. but with 8x06 it truly feels like they didn’t have a single real conversation that we hadn’t seen.

8x06 shows us that they don’t know about each others’ exs at all, buck doesn’t know how tommy views his sexuality, tommy doesn’t know that buck hates basketball, so what exactly have they been talking about outside of the silly goofyness of 911 subplots for six months??

tbh i understand having them break up (i really wanted them to be endgame but i understand if that was never actually the plan) but the way they broke up felt so wrong.

i would’ve even understood if the real reason they had broken up was because after six months they realized that they don’t actually know anything about each other but even so, until 8x06, that was never indicated. they had a couple serious conversations with each other in season 7 and since there were no hints either way, i had assumed those had continued off-screen.

to have a well-liked couple with a decent amount of screen time break up without showing us pretty much any of the actual downfall of the relationship, giving what felt like a shoehorned in reason for the breakup, and only giving us last minute hints at the possible actual reason for the relationship ending feels shitty, if i’m being real.

i know it’s just a fictional show and it’s not that serious but this really hurt. i hate how much i let this get to me but i really let this show get my hopes up. it was my main form of escapism and something that consistently made me happy outside of things in my everyday life that have been stressing me out. i thought i could sink a little further into it after the results of the election but now it’s no longer the same form of comfort for me.

i’ll probably still continue watching the show and i absolutely adore all the people i’ve gotten to interact with (even in my really small way of interacting) through this fandom but 911 does feel a little tainted for me at the moment.

i’m probably missing some stuff here and a lot of this is just rambling but that’s it for now, i hope you are all doing okay and hanging on to whatever you can to make this a little easier <3

[dancingintherainwithchifuyu]

Ichiji Vinsmoke x Fem Reader.

Chapter 1

In a kingdom where marriage is power, a princess finds herself at the center of a political scheme. When the ambitious Vinsmoke family arrives, intent on winning her hand to secure an alliance, each of the brothers vies for her favor. But it’s the stoic Ichiji who catches her attention—despite his cold demeanor and sense of duty.

Warnings: Political Manipulation, Schemes,Arranged/Forced Marriage,Mild Violence Conflict,Emotional Manipulation,Slow-Burn Romance,Toxic Family Dynamics,Class and Social Hierarchy.

Tags: @omi-replies , @fic-dumpster , @firstdivisiongirl , @livid-basket , @alexa-fika

Part 2

The air in the Germa Kingdom’s main strategy chamber was thick with an uncomfortable silence. Judge Vinsmoke sat at the head of the long table, his imposing figure casting a shadow over his four children seated before him. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as he eyed each of them, his gaze resting a moment longer on Ichiji, his eldest.

“Listen carefully,” Judge began, his voice commanding their full attention. “We are about to enter a kingdom with powerful resources—resources that could secure Germa’s place as an unstoppable force. I have reason to believe that the king is considering marriage alliances for his daughter. He knows it’s time for her to marry.”

“A royal alliance has presented itself,” Judge announced, his tone heavy with expectation. “An opportunity to expand Germa’s influence beyond the North Blue.”

Ichiji’s eyes narrowed slightly. He knew his father didn’t indulge them in such serious discussions unless he believed there was something of significant value at stake.

A brief, tense silence settled around the table as each of the Vinsmokes absorbed this revelation. Niji let out a scoff, rolling his eyes. “Marriage? Don’t tell me you actually want one of us to play house with some pampered princess. Who needs that kind of baggage?”

“Careful, Niji,” Judge’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. “This isn’t just any princess. She’s the daughter of a kingdom that controls a significant stretch of strategic territory. If we establish ties through marriage, Germa will have access to their resources, their ports… Their people.”

“Father, you talk as if she’s a prize to be won,” Reiju remarked quietly, though she wore a small, knowing smile. “You do realize she’s a person?”

Judge’s gaze flicked to his only daughter, his voice hardening. “That’s precisely what makes her valuable. She’s the means to an end, and Germa needs that end.” His eyes swept over them again, calculating. “The girl’s family holds immense sway over trade routes. Once she’s married into our family, that influence belongs to us.”

“That’s where you come in,” he continued, his gaze shifting from one son to the next. “I want each of you to compete for the princess’s favor. Show her what Germa’s finest can offer. This is your opportunity to prove yourselves.”

Yonji laughed under his breath. “Sounds easy enough. If all we have to do is charm some doe-eyed princess, then let me handle it.”

“I doubt charm will get you far, Yonji,” Reiju cut in, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “From what I hear, she’s supposed to be quite... particular.”

Niji leaned forward, an arrogant gleam in his eyes. “Particular, huh? She sounds soft”.Ichiji hadn’t spoken yet, instead choosing to assess his father’s expression with a quiet intensity. He knew exactly what Judge expected of him—the ideal son, the one molded from childhood to carry Germa’s ambitions forward without question.

“Spare us the theatrics,” Ichiji finally spoke, his tone level. “This is clearly a strategy, nothing more. I’ll play the role if it’s required. But let’s not pretend it’s anything other than manipulation.”

Judge’s eyes gleamed, the faintest hint of pride in his eldest son’s calculated mindset. “Precisely,” he affirmed. “This girl has likely been raised to be a pawn her entire life, groomed to follow the wishes of her family. You need only exploit that training. She will trust Germa if she believes she’s marrying someone worthy, someone loyal”

The Germa 66 fleet sailed smoothly over the calm sea, their dark, sleek ships forming an imposing line against the horizon. Judge stood on the deck of the lead ship, his gaze fixed forward, unyielding and cold. Behind him, his children assembled, each in their characteristic stance—Niji and Yonji leaning against the rails with their usual smirks, Reiju standing calmly with her arms crossed, and Ichiji, silent and focused, his eyes narrowed as he observed the approaching island.

The distant outline of the kingdom's lush forests and majestic palace came into view. The port city bustled with ships coming and going, but none compared to the intimidating, uniform might of the Germa fleet. Even from a distance, they could see the kingdom's guards hurrying to clear the docks, each with expressions of tense anticipation.

"Quite the welcome they’re giving us," Yonji snickered, watching as the guards lined up in a formation, clearly put on edge by the sight of Germa’s arrival.

Judge’s gaze remained forward. “Of course, they’re intimidated. They know what it means for Germa to visit. We’re a force to be reckoned with.” 

The ship lurched slightly as it neared the dock, the water rippling against the massive hull. Reiju watched the kingdom’s coastline, her gaze lingering on the distant palace towers. “I hope they’re prepared for what’s coming,” she murmured. “It doesn’t seem like the kind of place accustomed to Germa’s… approach.”

Niji chuckled. “All the better for us. The softer they are, the easier they’ll be to control. This should be a walk in the park.”

Ichiji gave him a sidelong glance, his voice cold. “You’d do well to control your arrogance, Niji. They may be soft, but underestimating them will only complicate matters.”

“Relax, Ichiji,” Niji shot back, smirking. “We’re here to charm them, aren’t we? Father didn’t bring us along to just stand there and look pretty.” He straightened his coat, the gleam in his eye betraying the enjoyment he took from the chance to play a role in the family scheme.

Judge’s gaze settled on each of them in turn, ensuring his children understood their roles. “Remember, this marriage is our chance to expand Germa’s reach. Each of you has a part to play in securing this alliance. Reiju, you will earn the princess’s trust. Niji, Yonji—support Ichiji’s efforts, but do not overstep. This is a delicate situation, and I will not tolerate failure.”

Reiju nodded thoughtfully, her mind already working through the best way to approach this task. She understood her father’s methods all too well, and she knew this wasn’t about romance or family. This was about gaining control.

Judge continued, his tone a blend of impatience and expectation. “Each of you has something to offer. Show her why Germa is her best option, and make sure she feels that. I’ll be watching closely.”

Niji leaned over to Yonji, grinning. “Guess the best man wins, huh?” He gave his older brother a nudge, his grin widening. “Good luck, Ichiji.”

Yonji chuckled, looking Ichiji over with a smug smirk. “You going to try charming her, Ichiji? Or just stand there looking all stoic and intimidating?”

Ichiji shot them both a steely look but said nothing. It was pointless to argue; he would do what he must, even if the idea of vying for someone’s favor left him with a bitter taste.

“Save your boasting for the banquet,” Judge warned, his voice cold. “Remember, this alliance is essential. Failure is not an option.”

With that, he turned his back on them, effectively dismissing them. Reiju gave Ichiji a brief, sympathetic glance as she turned to leave. She understood better than the others what he felt—how difficult it was to be the figure their father molded for his own purposes.

As they left the room, Niji and Yonji exchanged competitive glances, clearly eager to outdo one another. They already had their sights set on impressing the princess, and neither seemed to care how obvious their rivalry was.

As the Vinsmokes prepared to disembark at the kingdom’s port, they were met by an escort of palace guards who would lead them to the palace for that night’s banquet. Each sibling took in the sights with different degrees of interest, their minds already on the tasks Judge had set before them.

Niji elbowed Yonji as they walked, a grin spreading across his face. “What do you think? The princess will be wrapped around my finger in no time.”

Yonji smirked, unfazed. “You? Not a chance. I’ll have her attention before you can even blink.”

Ichiji ignored them, his gaze fixed on the palace looming ahead. He could already envision the evening: the charade, the flattery, the act of interest he’d have to feign. It was his duty, nothing more. A distraction he’d put up with if it meant securing his father’s ambitions.

Reiju, meanwhile, was mentally preparing herself for the night. Befriending the princess would require tact, patience, and a delicate hand. But she was well-versed in her father’s games. She knew how to maneuver through them gracefully, keeping her own feelings in check.

As the Vinsmokes prepared to disembark at the kingdom’s port, they were met by an escort of palace guards who would lead them to the palace for that night’s banquet. Each sibling took in the sights with different degrees of interest, their minds already on the tasks Judge had set before them.

Niji elbowed Yonji as they walked, a grin spreading across his face. “What do you think? The princess will be wrapped around my finger in no time.” Yonji smirked, unfazed. “You? Not a chance. I’ll have her attention before you can even blink.”

Ichiji ignored them, his gaze fixed on the palace looming ahead. He could already envision the evening: the charade, the flattery, the act of interest he’d have to feign. It was his duty, nothing more. A distraction he’d put up with if it meant securing his father’s ambitions.

Reiju, meanwhile, was mentally preparing herself for the night. Befriending the princess would require tact, patience, and a delicate hand. But she was well-versed in her father’s games. She knew how to maneuver through them gracefully, keeping her own feelings in check.

The grand ballroom was filled with music and laughter, noble guests drifting between conversations and dancing under the glow of crystal chandeliers. The princess, standing near the edge of the gathering, felt herself sinking deeper into discomfort. A persistent nobleman, clearly emboldened by wine, had been hovering around her for the past few minutes, his attention increasingly unwelcome.

“I was saying, Your Highness,” the nobleman continued, leaning too close, “you would be wise to consider my family’s standing. We have much to offer, after all,” he said, flashing a grin she found all too smug.

The princess forced a polite smile, subtly shifting away from him. “I’m sure your family is very… esteemed,” she replied, her voice wavering slightly.

The nobleman’s hand reached out, just enough to lightly touch her arm, making her tense. “Please, Your Highness, a dance?” He bowed dramatically, blocking her from slipping away.

She looked around, eyes searching for a familiar face, her discomfort rising as she struggled to find a way out of the situation.

Then, just as her anxiety was about to bubble over, a calm, confident voice cut through the tension.

“Excuse me, Your Highness,” Reiju interjected, stepping between the princess and the nobleman with perfect poise. “I couldn’t help but notice how lovely you look this evening. You must tell me who styled your hair—it’s simply enchanting.”

The princess blinked, caught off guard but relieved, and let out a small sigh. Reiju’s warm smile was both friendly and reassuring, the perfect lifeline.

“Oh, thank you, Lady Reiju,” she replied, her voice soft but grateful.

Reiju’s eyes flicked toward the nobleman, who was looking between them with a frown, clearly unimpressed by the interruption. She held her gaze steady, an undercurrent of steel flashing in her blue eyes as she addressed him with cool politeness.

“I’m sorry, but the princess and I have a prior engagement,” Reiju said smoothly. “We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, would we?”

The nobleman’s eyes narrowed, his pride clearly stung. “I wasn’t aware the princess was… so occupied,” he said, voice dripping with irritation. But under Reiju’s unflinching stare, he gave a curt bow and stalked off, muttering under his breath.

Reiju watched him go, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. Once he was out of earshot, she turned back to the princess, her expression softening.

“Apologies for the interruption, Your Highness,” she said with a gentle smile. “It’s just that these banquets seem to attract a… particular type of guest.”

The princess let out a small, relieved laugh, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “Thank you, Lady Reiju. I… wasn’t sure what to say to him.”

Reiju nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. Men like that don’t always take hints easily.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, lowering her voice. “Truthfully, I could never stand that type myself. Far too forward.”

The princess’s eyes lit up in surprise, a smile breaking through her initial shyness. “I feel the same way,” she confessed. “Sometimes, I just… wish I could tell them no without being polite about it.

Reiju chuckled, leaning in conspiratorially. “Believe me, Your Highness, every woman wishes that at some point.” She glanced around the ballroom with a sly smile. “Shall we escape to the balcony? It’s much quieter there.”

The princess nodded eagerly. “Yes, please. I could use a bit of fresh air.”

The two slipped away, weaving through the crowd until they reached the balcony overlooking the garden, where the soft night air provided a welcome respite. The princess took a deep breath, her face relaxing as she gazed over the quiet scene.

“Thank you again, Lady Reiju,” she murmured. “I don’t know how to repay your kindness.”

Reiju shook her head, her expression turning unexpectedly soft. “Think nothing of it, Your Highness. Sometimes, we all need a little help. And you can call me Reiju,” she added with a wink, her usual formality melting away.

The princess smiled shyly. “Reiju, then.” She looked down, gathering her thoughts before adding, “I don’t have many… friends in court, I suppose. This was… really kind of you.”

Reiju placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Well, you have one now,” she said with genuine warmth. “And if you ever need me to help fend off another admirer, you know where to find me.”

The princess laughed softly, feeling more at ease in Reiju’s presence. For the first time, she felt she had an ally—someone who wasn’t interested in power or politics but simply understood her. The pressures of court life felt lighter, if only for a moment.

And though Reiju’s family might have their own motives, she found herself unexpectedly protective of the princess, hoping that their friendship might bring her a taste of normalcy amid the endless scheming.

The night was peaceful as Reiju and the princess strolled along the garden path. The banquet music was a faint hum in the background, giving them a sense of privacy in the open air. The princess’s face was relaxed, her earlier tension forgotten as she glanced curiously at Reiju.

“Lady Reiju,” the princess began, then corrected herself with a shy smile. “I mean, Reiju… you mentioned earlier that you’ve traveled far and wide with your family. I’ve never had the chance to travel beyond our islands. What’s it like?”

Reiju paused, a gentle smile crossing her lips as she glanced up at the night sky, gathering her thoughts. “It’s… exhilarating,” she replied. “One moment, you’re in the middle of a bustling port city, full of people and noise and life. And the next, you’re in a quiet, forgotten village where time seems to stand still. There’s always something new to see, something unexpected waiting around the corner.”

The princess listened intently, her eyes shining with fascination. “It sounds so… freeing,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine going wherever you please. Which place was your favorite?”

Reiju smiled, though there was a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “There was a city in the North Blue,” she said, her voice tinged with warmth. “It was surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and the air was always crisp and cold. The people there were so hardy, living in harsh conditions, but they were kind too. They had this annual festival where they’d hang lanterns all around the town. At night, the whole place would glow—it was breathtaking.”

The princess sighed, lost in the mental picture Reiju had painted. “That sounds so beautiful,” she murmured. “I’ve always loved festivals and celebrations. I think… it reminds people to be joyful, even if only for a little while.”

Reiju nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at the princess. “You have a way of seeing things that many don’t. Even when times are hard, you find something good to hold onto.”

The princess blushed, glancing down shyly. “Thank you, Reiju. I suppose it’s just how I was raised. I’ve always been taught that kindness and understanding can make a difference, even in small ways.” She paused, looking up with curiosity. “Do you ever feel that way?”

Reiju hesitated, not used to sharing personal thoughts but sensing the princess’s sincerity. “Sometimes,” she said finally. “I think… there’s strength in kindness, though not everyone realizes it. It takes a certain bravery to be gentle in a world that can be… harsh.”

The princess nodded thoughtfully, a small smile spreading across her face. “I like to think so too. Perhaps that’s why I’m so fascinated by the idea of traveling. Meeting people from different places, seeing their lives—maybe there’s more kindness in the world than we realize.”

Reiju glanced over, feeling an unexpected admiration for the princess’s innocent outlook. “You’d make a wonderful traveler,” she said. “And you know, if you ever do get the chance, I’d love to be the one to show you around.”

The princess’s face lit up with joy, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, that would be a dream! To travel with someone like you—who’s seen so much already.”

Reiju chuckled, trying to keep her tone light. “We’d make a fine pair, I think,” she said. “I’d handle the logistics, and you could remind me to see the beauty in each place we visit.”

As they walked further into the garden, Reiju continued to share stories, carefully selecting memories that highlighted the wonders of the world without betraying the harsher truths of her family’s conquests. She described vibrant markets filled with exotic spices, coastal towns with waves crashing against rocky shores, and sprawling forests with trees older than memory. All the while, the princess listened, occasionally asking questions with wide-eyed curiosity, immersing herself in each tale.

Eventually, they reached a secluded bench near a bed of fragrant night-blooming flowers. The princess sat down, pulling her knees up slightly as she gazed up at Reiju with wonder.

“I never thought I’d find a friend like you, Reiju,” she said softly. “Thank you… for sharing all this with me.”

Reiju took a seat beside her, a small smile playing at her lips. “The pleasure is mine, Your Highness. It’s nice to speak with someone who understands the world beyond titles and power.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in their thoughts. For Reiju, it was a rare feeling of peace, a brief respite from the expectations that usually weighed upon her. And for the princess, it was a moment of connection—a reminder that even in a world shaped by duty and formality, true friendship could be found.

[sideysvault]

*ੈ✩‧₊ Mundane Intervention *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

wc: 1,200k

Tags: [sfw] Mature themes, strong language, one use of the r slur, bullying, tension and a fluffy ending

────────

The cathedral city looked as solemn as usual. The yellow stones shined in contrast against the pale green of the grass. Its baroque interior inspired respect in you, a bubbling sensation of awe. Even still, after all this time. The conversation your friends were having felt borderline sacrilegious. And it did scandalize you, to say the least. But then again, rich people’s brains seemed to be wired differently, that was another thing that you still couldn’t get used to. But it was the only group that had taken you in so far. The library engulfed the group, and the lame conversation that was being held was cushioned and absorbed by the old books.

“He’s like, a total retard”

Your body instinctively tenses upon hearing the term. The bad taste left from your childhood flooded every pore on your skin. You tried to concentrate on something else.

The weather constantly changed to sunny intervals by lunchtime. But you were sure that it would rain tonight. You could feel the humidity in the air, and the tense breeze.

��A mate of mine told me he goes around screaming at people to ask him sums”

A snort came out of someone’s mouth.

“What a pathetic party favor”

They were getting increasingly louder, and they seemed to pay no mind to the scattered students that surrounded us, trying to study, getting annoyed. In an effort to calm things down, you quietly ask “Who are you talking about?”

But you already had a fairly decent idea of who they were mocking.

“That Michael guy”

You frown and nod dismissively. Suddenly, your clothes were all the wrong fabric, with all the wrong texture. Shifting in your seat, trying to breathe in and out, in and out. People have called you those names your entire life, especially when you were younger. Just because you were starting to get the hang of social interaction at college, starting to be pretty, knowing how to take care of yourself, that did not erase everything that had happened to you.

You had only seen Michael twice before. He was quite handsome, and sure, he seemed weird. But as far as you knew, he had no friends, no money, and Oliver had ditched him for Felix a long time ago. That made you more similar to him than to anyone sitting across from you.

Still fearing being alienated and left alone and far away from home, even if it meant being away from vapid people who were there by pure chance and lineage, a strange comment that should’ve been a legitimate defense left your mouth

“Actually, I think he’s super hot.”

Your comment was the match that lit up the entire conversation again. A loud laughter came out in sync.

“Do you have some kind of freak fetish or something?”

Sighing and laughing along, you decided to dismissively collect your defeat and let the situation go. Embarrassed, and with your cheek burning. What else could you do?

────────

You were right. The grass felt humid and the dirt was rich and aromatic. You quickly stumbled your way into the house, not wanting to ruin the pretty scenery with your puke. Desperation pounded your heart, and all you needed was a break. Somewhere to puke and rest for a while. Things went south at some point in the night. The evening turned from excitement for being invited to feeling stupid for letting yourself get wrapped around stupid games and ending up drunk, and it had ended with you feeling irreparably lonely, because you really had no one to hold your hair while you got better, no one to talk and share a moment in the midst of all the rapid coloured madness of Halloween.

You missed your small town, you missed your old friends, you missed being at home, at peace.

An open door finally turned to be a bathroom, and without thought, you ran to open the lit of the toilet and sober up.

“I was here before”

It startled you. That voice. Angry and petty, and completely unaware that you obviously needed to use the restroom with urgency. You turned to the person, who was hiding behind the curtain of the bathtub. You opened them, reinvigorated and with a new clear head. What the actual fuck? It was Michael.

He was wearing an awkwardly thick sweater, crimson red and a yellow collar. Michael was wearing his glasses, and when he saw you standing up before him, his eyes immediately trailed down towards your exposed breasts, your stomach, and your legs. You frowned. It was a party, and now he was making you feel concious for choosing an appropriately revealing outfit. It wasn’t your fault if he was dressed like he was on his way attend a lecture

“Jesus, you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?”

A smirk adorned his face, as he spat back “But you are into that, right? Freaks?”

Your heart dropped. He had heard the conversation at the library. You suddenly did not feel so confrontational. Embarrassed and slightly annoyed, you dropped your back against the wall and slowly sat on the floor.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

His body crisped, and his cocky was nowhere to be found. “It’s not like it was invite only”

Michael was being pathetically defensive about the topic, while you were only trying to make small talk. But you let it pass, because after what he had heard, he clearly thought you were making fun of him. As if you’d police who gets inside a party on a house whose host you didn’t even know.

“That’s not what I meant. Sorry.”

The awkward silence continued. And the angry look on his face did not disappear with your attempts to make amends. You tried again.

“You are not having fun?”

He slowly shakes his head no and lowers his gaze. Something had clearly happened to this guy. And by the way everyone talked about him, you weren’t surprised.

“Yeah, me neither”

Michael seems to relax a bit, finally dropping the defense. He quickly gets up from the bathtub and walks towards the sink.

“Clean your mouth. Or it’ll stink”

You laugh at his abruptness, but he was right. You do as he says, and when you lower down to drink some water from the sink, he shakily takes your hair for you to not get it wet. This consideration makes your heart drop yet again, because that was exactly what you needed, some nice gesture, and it had surprisingly came from him, even after you did not have the courage of the wit to defend him. A small smile lights up your face and while you turn to face him, you make sure to leave a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, I needed that”

The brownish red you were wearing stained his face, which seemed to match with the new brightness of his gaze, and the pink blush that marked his face.

“I really wasn’t making fun of you back there. I meant what I say”

You gave him your name, and he finally properly introduced himself to you. You both smiled at one another. For the first time since you’d been together in the bathroom, he seemed truly comfortable. You weren’t one of those vapid cunts after all. And he wasn’t one either.

[yipyapposting]

I regret ever making a TikTok account because now I'm too scared to actually post about my main identity in fear of being recognized or "outed"

I really enjoyed using the app in 2022 to correct misinformation in the Therian community before it got worse. The community was still filled with quadrobics and all of the mask making, but informative videos from alterhumans would still be some of the first results if you checked the Therian tag. I could just state that I'm an animal and other creatures would be fine with that because they also didn't see themselves as human.

A few of my videos got way too much attention and went into the hundred thousands while two surpassed a million, causing me to gain over 20k followers, and before I knew it, I was shadowbanned for no reason. 2 years of posting videos and editing them were basically gone, and any new videos I posted barely surpassed a thousand.

Not only did I not want that much attention, but people who claimed to be therians started correcting me about MY identity and telling me to get help if I thought I was an animal? I also realized most of my followers were very young children and it made me really uncomfortable. I still have the account and post every few months, but oh my God the community is horrible. At least on there it is. It didn't help with my fear of being outed for having a paraphillia when literally nobody on there even understands what that means.

Thought crimes don't exist, and as much as I enjoyed talking with other necros on here, I just don't want to be chased off that app when I've put my face online.

Moral of the story, be wary of the communities you put yourself in. Will never be trying to gain attention on that app ever again.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.

[snowmoonwrites]

Hold Me Tight

Tokyo Debunker: Kamurai Jin x Reader Tags: Fluff, established relationnship, So much fluff omg, kinda case fic, there is a creep be warned

The day of the gathering, you were incredibly happy to remember that to the Frostheim ball Jin has gifted you three separate dresses. While you were sure you could have been able to improvise with the artifact cloth, real dresses were still better. After all, while it wasn’t a proper mission, it was adjacent to one. You have been sent to gather information in the ball where only the high society will attend.

Why you? Why not anyone else from Frostheim, who at least belongs there? Those were the first questions out of your mouth too when the Academy requested your presence there. You didn’t even have a background to get into the party. The invitation… You weren’t sure it would hold up given you were a no-name person.

Yet, given your status it wasn’t like you could actually say no to the request. Therefore, here you stood today, looking at Sinostra’s casino hours before you had to get going. You could think of no one who knows human faces better than Romeo. Maybe he also knew how to apply the appropriate makeup. At least you really hoped so. While the ghouls were incredibly helpful in life or death situations dealing with the occult… They weren’t famous for their make-up routines. What you wouldn’t give for just one of them to be a woman as well… 

Given the total male community of ghouls, the best bet you could make was Romeo. Even if he didn’t know how to do so, he had a bunch of employees, near servants. There must be at least one girl who knows how to do it right, right?

Thus, you brought over the dress, the shoes and your meager makeup kit. You have never been one to use it much, the most you know is the basic foundation, blush, mascara, lipstick. You hoped for the best as you walked into Sinostra. You were far from an uncommon sight in the Casino given your work, so no one even glanced your way as you made your way up to the rooms.

As you were led inside Romeo was sitting in his usual chair, ordering people around as usual. Seeing you, he sighed. He knew, if you were not here for your inspector work then you needed something. Not that your inspector work didn’t bring him enough headaches. Why was Taiga so prone to eat anomalies? You awkwardly shuffled your feet.

“Out with it! I don’t have time to dally with you all day long.”

“Umm… Can you do my makeup?” You ask while looking at anywhere but him. “It is for a mission! I have to go to a high class party,” you added hurriedly.

“Do I look like your servant?! Me, Fico doing a BB’s makeup? Do I look insane to you?”

“I could mention your great contribution in the case file?”

And thus an hour later you walked out of the room all dolled up and ready for the party. He even made one of his house members style your hair. You really were grateful for the help. You will not look too out of place at the fancy high-end party.

The Galaxy Express ride, while beautiful, went uneventful as you read the case file once again just to be safe. Your work wasn’t anything strenuous, just gathering intel for one of Frostheim’s missions. According to the file a suspected anomaly was turning up at a few fancy parties. Nothing too malicious happened yet, but a few women would complain about strange noises in the restrooms. Like someone was watching them, but when they called out, only silence. Creepy. Maybe they weren’t wrong to send someone to investigate. It wasn’t every party, so you might just go, try to talk with some of the women and “enjoy” the high end life…

You walked to the party’s place from the closest Galaxy stop, getting out your invitation and steeling yourself to appear composed and regal. No use of all this planning if you can’t sell yourself as someone belonging there. You walked up the steps to the double doors, taking out your invitation and handing it to the butler standing in front of it. 

He looked at the invitation, which you really hoped was actually real and not just a great replica, may the academy not fuck you over like that. Then he looked at you up and down. You were feeling his judging stare. Something was wrong with the invitation? Your clothes? Your makeup? Hair? Oh god.

“I haven’t seen you at one of these parties yet.” He crossed his arms. “I have zero idea where you got the fake invitation but you better give getting in up. You are not the first who brings a convincing replica.”

Oh god! You didn’t look like you belonged, right? No matter how you dress up a pumpkin, it will still only be a pumpkin. And anyone who knows pumpkins will recognize it in a glance. You were near panicking in your mind. How to deal with the situation? Insist you belonged? But if he asks for a family name? What would you say? Puff up and make a scene? Cry? Abort the whole mission and demand the academy come up with better plans?

As you stood there, silent but for a frown adoring your face, a slender arm sneaked around your waist, pulling you into a solid chest. You glance up, you could guess who the hand belonged to by the way it clutched you possessively. Your brain does not betray you, Jin’s unimpressed face looks straight at the butler.

“Is there a problem here?” He pulls you even closer, which you didn’t think was possible.

“I… the girl…” The butler gulped, clearly recognizing the Kamurai family’s son. 

Jin raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. His commanding aura was not less than if he used his stigma to make the man fall to his knees right there. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to use it. You relaxed in his arms, knowing he is going to take care of you.

Not even ten seconds later the butler opened the double doors and let you two in, bowing low as you walked through it. Before you entered the actual ball room Jin stopped to look at you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Working,” you replied casually. There was nothing more to it, you had orders from up high, you had to comply.

“Without an escort? Not even one ghoul?” He frowned, but you knew his ire was not aimed towards you.

“I think I just got myself one.” You slipped from his arm to lay your own onto his, into the typical escorting position, smiling up at him. Well, maybe grinning would have been the better description. He chuckled at your antics, pulling your hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss onto it.

“If the lady insists.”

You walk into the ballroom with your arms linked, having given him the details of your mission. Given the sensitive nature of the case, he let you go to investigate while he did his own job as the Kamurai family’s heir. Meaning PR, which really was just standing around looking menacing as men old enough to be his father looked humbled by his presence. It was quite funny if you were honest.

You mingled with the women, trying to gain a scrap of information that could help the investigation. Given your penchant for the worst luck, neither of them were one of the victims. They told you some gossip but that is as far as their knowledge went. Today also seemed to be a quiet, calm night. Not a scream from the direction of the restrooms.

Well, at least you got out of the school grounds. A night spent in a luxurious ball room with soft classical music, a bar not far away, finely dressed people you have nothing in common with. Just your idea of a fun night out… Not so much. With little left to do but suffer through the night, you headed to the bar. If you had to be here is case the anomaly, if it is an anomaly, shows up, you were going to get a drink. 

Thus decided, you walked to the bar, plopping yourself down on one of the barstools. The place was fancy, but it lacked the charm and homely feeling you would get at Rui’s bar. As you looked through the menu a drink was placed in front of you. You glanced up at the bartender.

“Courtesy of the man over there.” He pointed to a man sitting not too far away. You grimaced and pushed the drink away, the man looked old enough to be your father, creepy predator. When he saw the drink being taken away, instead of getting the neon lighted huge NO signal, he moved to the stool next to you. Paying him no mind, you looked at the bartender.

“A strawberry daiquiri, please.”

As the bartender set the cocktail in front of you, the guy next to you piped up. What you wouldn’t have given to shut his mouth, preferably with one of the fancy barstools.

“Let me cover that,” he said, all slimy and not at all visibly wanting to gain your favour. Which was still so gross. As if it was his right just because he had money and you looked young and alone. Thankfully the bartender looked at you before doing anything. At least he was a professional, not disregarding you for your age or gender.

“No, write it up to Kamurai’s name,” you said, looking at nowhere but the bartender. Jin said not to worry about any expenses, he had you covered, the academy didn’t give you any money after all. They really expected you to do nothing but investigate, like a good little robot. The bartender nodded and walked away, clearly someone who knew not to argue. 

“Pfff.” The man next to you let out an undignified bark of laughter. “Girly, clearly you think yourself to be someone. Do you know how many try to curry favour from that family? It would be better for you to keep your pretty face down and let me be a gentleman for now.” He leaned in, too close for comfort, you could smell the alcohol on his breath, his closeness repulsing you like no anomaly so far. 

“After that, I can make your pretty lips take in something better than the straw in your drink.” His hand reached out, touching your hair, then sliding down to rest on your thigh, even as you tried to move away. You couldn’t make a scene right now. While your own reputation didn’t matter, you were a nobody either way, Jin might just get the burnt of it if you act on impulse and really beat the crap out of this disgusting pervert. You tried to move as far as possible on your stool, but given its size, you couldn’t put too much distance between the two of you.

Diplomacy, diplomacy, you repeated in your mind. You will not pour your drink onto this waste of space. It might get on your dress, you’d loath to stain it. But, well it will be burnt either way after this man put his disgusting hands on it. Maybe you should pour the drink on his head. No, diplomacy, polite but firm.

“I do not wish for either to happen. So if you would unhand me.” You tried to push his hand away. Ew, you better wash it well after this. But his hand wouldn’t budge, no, it only squeezed you tighter. THIS TRASH! You felt your temper rising like the Sun every dawn, steadily reaching new heights as the predator only smirked at you, letting his hand wander higher, leaning in too close.

“Playing hard to get, I see. Don’t worry I am good at making brats like you beg for mercy. Preferably on my co—” He couldn’t finish his sentence as your drink landed on him at the same moment his ass hit the floor. But it wasn’t you who dumped it on him. The man looked shocked then enraged.

Yet, he couldn’t say a word as your knight in shining armor, khm nice suit, saved you for the second time this night. You might have to rethink your decisions. You are not a damsel in distress but you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster and feeling relieved that he came to your side when you were in need. You might just fall harder for him. Was that even possible?

“Get your hands off her,” Jin growled at the man. The man on the floor couldn’t utter a word in the presence of Jin. Like someone cut his tongue out. He clearly got the memo, finally, that you weren’t joking with having The Kamurai family cover your expenses. With a swift motion Jin put his black card on the bar, signaling to the the bartender to swipe it for your drink.  

“Oi, it was the girl who came onto me. What can I do with such a needy bitch? Not play along. She is a total gold digger.” The man tried to stand up, his bruised ego not letting him take the reasonable defeat. Tried, being the important word, as Jin let his feet fall onto the man’s hand, exerting enough force to make him fall back down. As he put pressure on it, the middle aged man winced and grimaced.

“You better shut your ugly mug.” He motioned for the guards. After all, this was a party for the filthy rich. Of course there were security guards. When they got there, Jin lifted his leg off the man.

“Take this trash away.” When they lifted the man Jin leaned closer to him. “If I see you anywhere near my girlfriend again, losing that disgusting hand would be the kindest thing I will do to you.”

As the man was unceremoniously thrown out Jin turns to you, offering his hand so you could comfortably get off the barstool. When you did, he pulled you in, fixing a stray strand of hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. 

“Let’s fix your dress, some of your drink splashed on it.”

You glanced down. And truly, a red stain was on your dress. You were so entertained by Jin putting the fear of god into that pervert that you didn’t even register the coldness. You nodded and let yourself be led to the back.

Given the place’s fanciness, it was no surprise that one of the restrooms had a unisex room that seemed to exist for emergency uses, such as a spilled drink, an uncomfortable feet due to high heels… The emergency truly had a different connotation in high society… Not that you were complaining right now, given that you have a so-called emergency.

Jin closed the door after stepping into the room, following you. You looked down at your dress. It didn’t seem salvageable to your eyes. And given the stain’s location, you couldn’t wash it without taking it off. Then you remembered. You didn’t wear a bra! The dress let your breasts be free of bras but now you need to take it off. Seeing you hesitate, Jin lifted one of his eyebrows at you.

“You see… I have nothing under it…” You blushed and looked away. Then you heard rustling. Glancing up, you saw Jin take off his suit’s coat, holding it out for you.

“Put this on then.” You nodded, reaching for the zipper. Which decided to be uncooperative! You could pull it up just a few hours before! Why couldn’t you unzip it now?

Seeing your predicament, Jin reached for the zipper.

“May I?” You nodded, holding your breath as the zipper slipped down, the dress following after it’s path towards the floor.

“I’m sorry, I ruined the dress you gave me.” 

“I can buy you a hundred more. And it was me who spilled your drink on it.” He laid a gentle kiss onto your shoulder, following it up with laying his coat onto you so you are no longer half naked in the room. You stepped out of the circle of your dress. Jin took it in his hands, looking at the stain with annoyance. Whether he was annoyed about staining it himself, or the things leading up to that, you didn’t know.

“Let’s just toss it and take one of the provided substitutes. They are not the best, but they should do until we get back to the Academy.” He tossed the expensive dress into the trash as if it was nothing. Then he walked into the inbuilt closet room. You let him do the choosing, he did a good job last time, you believed in him. The filthy rich really had everything. The organizer seems to have thought of everything! Kudos to them!

Being left alone, you looked around the room, holding the coat together to keep your skin covered. While it wasn’t cold, it wasn’t the best temperature to be bare chested in. The interior was decorated lavishly but still elegantly. A couch, a few armchairs, a coffee table as well. Two doors, one obviously opening to the closet, the other to the restroom. You sat down on one of the armchairs, no reason to stand around awkwardly.

After a while Jin walked out, holding a blue dress in his hands. Clearly he wasn’t above dressing you in his own colours. Who said he isn’t a possessive boyfriend? You took the offering, smiling at him, no doubt you will look good in it.

“Go put it on, then we can go home.” He lifted your head gently by your chin, planting a quick kiss to your forehead. 

You walked into the restroom, ready to change and get out of this place. But something got you on high alert. Something seemed to be strange. As you put Jin’s coat down to put on the dress, you saw it. Someone, rather something from the chill running down your spine, was watching you. And then it started coming closer. Too fast. You have nothing to defend yourself with!

Nothing else to do, with fear chilling you, you screamed! Half naked or not, this wasn’t what you signed up for! You were supposed to get intel! Not run into the obvious anomaly! Because of course you would run into it! Because your life was one big joke, that’s why!

Hearing your scream Jin immediately ran into the room, sword already drawn. He didn’t hesitate to slash it in two. Clearly this one shall go into the case file as “destroyed” as well, not like you cared today. When Jin deemed it dead enough, he pulled you to him.

“Clearly I shouldn’t leave you alone for a minute. You have an uncanny way of getting into trouble.”

“Hey, this was clearly not my fault. I didn’t sign up to play bait tonight for whatever this was.” You pulled his coat back onto yourself buttoning it up. Clearly today wasn’t the day to wear dresses… 

“Hold onto me.” He wrapped his arm around you and slashed the veil of reality into two, stepping through to his dorm room. You should have used the Galaxy Express to come back, but this was honestly more convenient, faster, and safer as well. You weren’t about to complain for a free taxi ride back to the Academy.

But his dorm room was admittedly a lot colder than the ballroom was. Seeing you shiver, Jin pulled you towards his bed.

“Stay the night? I’ll even let you wear one of my warm shirts.” He lifted your hand to his mouth. Laying a kiss onto it before playfully biting into it. You chuckled at his seduction. You wouldn’t be able to sleep much anyway if you went back to your dorm, while this was not too dangerous compared to a few cases that you managed to live through… You felt way too vulnerable, nearly naked in front of the anomaly.

“Only if you won’t complain when I hog all of the blanket,” you countered, already fluffing his pillow up to your liking.

“Deal.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You buried your finger in Jin’s silky hair as he peppered your naked shoulders with kisses.

“I forgot to ask. How did you know it was me in front of the doors at the entrance? I can’t have been the only one to have that dress.”

He bit into your shoulder, as if disagreeing with even the thought of not recognizing you.

“Ridiculous. I would recognise you anywhere.” He planted a kiss on your forehead. “From a glance.” A kiss on your cheek. “By the scent of your skin.” On the tip of your nose. “By the colour of your eyes” On your eyelids. “By the feel of your hands in mine” Another on your neck. “By the sound of your heartbeat.” Another kiss on your lips. “Anywhere. Anytime.” He intertwined your fingers with his, pulling your back against his chest. Lulling you to sleep with his steady breathing, content in his arms. Knowing you have arrived home.

[hoxooster]

@littlebigadventure2 Actually, I never considered making a callout post. When DesBea was in the group, I wasn’t aware of her bullying other users (besides Red) or stalking anyone until well after she left lilspacewolfie’s Discord server. Beyond having to deal with her shoving her torture fics in everyone’s faces, and her going out of her way to push other people down, I had no thought towards making a post on her behavior. To be quite honest with you, I thought that she was just an adult who was being childish to gain attention, and that she only had beef with lilspacewolfie. Red wasn’t interested in making a callout post, because the bullying seemed like a minor issue, and I thought the same.

Then the callout post came out after I left the Red’s Ramblers Discord server.

Suddenly, behavior that I had reread in her messages back when I deleted them (in February of this year) from lilspacewolfie’s server, and that I was reminded about in conversations with others who experienced the same things whenever they interacted with her, made me realize the full scope of the worrying nature of her actions.

Because, I vividly remember how she went out of her way to pester Red. How she followed lilspacewolfie around in our stealth Payday 2 games without saying anything—in either voice or the text box—and would spam voice lines while standing directly behind her to make her scream in fear. And, how she also refused to stop when asked. No matter how many times the entreaties were repeated to her, or who was doing the asking—even if it was multiple people.

I remember how, in another time of us telling her to knock off her shitty behavior, she proclaimed in the Discord text chat—on a channel that was specifically designed for NSFW talk (mainly as a place to discuss fanfic ideas and bounce them off of the rest of the group)—that ‘anyone who writes NSFW in their fics are terrible people, and they’re disgusting.’ Red and I were taken aback by it for a while, then she asked for my help with addressing the issue, so I advised her to respond in a way that would basically tell DesBea, "Writing allows you to create whatever you want. People don't need permission to write about NSFW, or anything else for that matter, just because YOU don't like it. Just don't interact with it if it's so disgusting to you." DesBea tried to play it off with, "Well, I'm ace, so I don't understand it. Why do people do it? It's so weird. And I like reading anything and everything that has NaviMind in it." Red responded on her own with something along the lines of, "Yeah, but if you don't like to read NSFW, then just don't do it??? AO3 has tags on it so you can avoid things you don't like. Again, it's not hard." And this wasn’t the only time she used her, ‘I’m ace, but maybe not aro’ excuse to try to win or deflect her way out of arguments, but it was one of the more memorable ones. For all the wrong reasons.

I also remember how she would try to talk over other people in text conversations and make everything about her fics and ‘Bain is an alien’ and ‘the Payday gang are a hive mind’ and ‘imagine the guys feeling every bit of torture Bain went through with the Dentist’ and ‘this person’s writing sucks because it doesn’t include my head canons’ and so on.

But, as far as we knew at the time, this all only happened in the Red’s Ramblers Discord—and to people who seemed like they didn't really care too much about it. So, after she left, Red and I treated the whole situation as ‘DesBea was throwing a child’s temper tantrum, because she wasn’t getting the attention she wanted. Now she's out of here permanently. Good riddance.’

Then time passed, shit happened, and as I was leaving the server, I was deleting everything from people who had already left. I read back through her stuff and thought, “Yeesh, am I glad that she didn’t stick around.” Then I thought nothing else of it.

So, now we get back to the original callout post.

I wasn’t shocked about the content of anything that she wrote, but I was surprised by the targeted severity of it. And also the fact that she, as a ‘responsible’ adult, was knowingly being inappropriate with her messages that she was sending to a minor in that server.

Now, my mother is a middle school teacher, and I have helped her for 20 years with her work—this includes taking those ‘signs of abuse in children’, ‘bullying in the workplace’, and the ‘know that you’re expected to report bad actors on threat of legal action against you if you don’t’ tests for her, then giving her the rundown after (she’s bad with newer computers and programs). So, because of those, I know that you are, legally, NEVER ALLOWED to say what someone else does and does not consider as harassment towards themselves. I don't care if anyone tries to the pull the, 'yeah, it's only illegal where YOU are,' argument--it's a law that was put into place here because it's based on what should be common fuckin' courtesy, respect, and compassion afforded to and shared with victims in the aftermath of their trauma. If you want to consider the few messages you saw of hers as ‘gripes and misunderstandings’, then fine. If you want to interact with her, then knock yourself out. But, don’t, for one second, think that you can come in here and ‘weigh in’ on everything that has been said--which was at great personal embarrassment for some, and far too horrifying for others to even say anything beyond hinting at what transpired because of the trauma involved—and call any of it ‘not a big deal’.

In fact, since you didn’t reblog from the version of this post that has some concerning information on it, I’m going to assume that you didn’t see it, so here’s a photo of it:

On the original callout post, there's a reblog that's also from dracoleopardo that gives a bit more context on DesBea messaging at least one minor with inappropriate content. Which was followed up by lesbian-ferret mentioning that she had heard about accusations concerning DesBea going out of her way to pester the VAs—maybe with her torture fics or who-even-knows-what-else—which could have its own potential legal ramifications for DesBea, if they're true and the VAs decide to file anything against her.

So, there are people here—and possibly even persons who do/have work(ed) for Starbreeze—who have actively been hurt by her actions, some even to the point of attempting to do something irreversible to themselves. Is that what you would class as a ‘gripe’ or a ‘simple misunderstanding’?

Are muffy-official’s feelings about the whole DesBea situation that she experienced in their server not valid, because you, an admitted outsider to this issue, think that it’s ‘not a big deal’?

Is the original callout post ‘uncalled for’, because you don’t think that this was ‘worth talking about in an open forum’?

Is it ‘fearmongering’ to want to warn people—especially those that have been hurt by DesBea—about her multiple accounts that she has been known to use to block evade people who’ve blocked her on only one or a few of those accounts?

You asked me if I ‘thought of the consequences of my actions’ when I first made this addendum post.

I did.

I thought about the consequences of her messaging new people to our fandom to try and ingratiate herself upon them—which she did after an hour or so of the original callout post already being posted and it being spread around in reblogs by other people in the Payday fandom.

I thought about the consequences of her bullying more people in our fandom, especially those who are in terrible mental states or personal situations.

I thought about the consequences of her messaging any of the minors that are hanging out here in our corner of the fandom, and what any of those messages might contain.

I thought about the consequences of her continuing to stalk people in our fandom under her myriad of usernames, and none of them any the wiser about it or able to protect themselves.

I thought about the consequences of anyone in our fandom not being presented with all of this information, and thus being unable to react in an informed way if she tried to message or @ them or comment on their posts in the future.

And I also thought about the consequences her actions would have on her life on the internet, if she kept being allowed to behave and conduct herself around here in the ways that she has been.

But, we have to give her a pass, right? Because she’s ‘mentally unwell’—despite the fact that she continually refuses professional help. Or, because ‘she’s being childish for attention’—despite the fact that she’s an adult and she does know better. Or because it was ‘all just a misunderstanding’—despite the fact that she was bullying people almost to the point of harming themselves, and was knowingly being inappropriate in her messages to at least one minor.

I thought about the consequences a lot. I thought about how her actions and my own addendum post to the original callout post could effect and affect everyone in the Payday fandom. And, yes, I even thought about it in regards to Tumblr’s ToS.

So, while, yes, my post is targeted in the sense that it’s focused on DesBea and the accounts of hers that I’m aware of, it is not considered harassment under Tumblr’s definition in their ToS. This is because I’m actively calling for people to make their own decisions on whether or not they wish to block her, and I’m reminding them to not harass her. Multiple times. If you want to consider all of our efforts to try and warn people, while still reminding people to leave DesBea alone—despite how emotional our replies might have gotten and how many swear words have been thrown around--as harassment, then fine. Block me. Block all of us. Block everyone of us who created the posts, and every last person who reblogged it to signal boost it, so more people in our corner of the internet could see it.

I refuse to see any part of this as a 'non-issue' or as 'fearmongering'. DesBea has hurt multiple people in the Payday fandom in multiple ways in multiple places under multiple names. There are quite a few screenshots that have been provided as evidence to her behavior, and anecdotes from people in our fandom who've never interacted with each other before—all of whom are saying the same things about how she acted around them. If that's not what you consider as a 'good enough cause to make a callout post', then I don't know what to tell ya, hoss.

Do as you will.

On the DesBea situation:

I would've added my thoughts to the original post, but as I am not a part of their Discord server, I didn't think that that was any bit appropriate. However, I wanted to share some of my own personal experiences with her, so that y'all can see that her behavior in their server is a continuing pattern--I don't have pictures of what she said as proof, sadly, but I will explain why.

I'm also gonna slap this under a Read More. I apologize for its length, but the original callout post should be enough of an explanation as to why this post needs to be as long as it is.

And, as a quick aside, if any of you wish to completely block DesBea, NOT HARASS HER OR FEED INTO HER BEHAVIOR IN ANY WAY, be aware that her usernames are:

commence-screaming

des-paa-cee-toeee

pd3thoughts

If any of you know of any more, please tell me, and I will update this post. I don't want to be around her anymore than most people who've also interacted with her do.

About 2 years ago, I was invited to lilspacewolfie's server, Red's Ramblers, and I very quickly became a moderator there. Over time some people joined and a few left, but Ramblers remained stable through it all. DesBea joined later on into the server's lifespan, was around for awhile, said some nasty things, was given a warning (in the general), and just left without saying anything one day. After reading the screenshots in the callout post, I'm actually quite surprised by how much of a fit she threw in her efforts to make you guys apologize to her. Much like in the original post, with her gone from the server, things improved for everyone else, but the whole ordeal was rather confusing for all of us, in the aftermath.

See, DesBea was trying to be just as harmful in Ramblers, but it never really went anywhere.

Her hateful and self-pitying tendencies were the same around us as it was in their server. She really loved to talk shit about Yadoking and her writing--she would do this both in passing on random posts in the server, and while some of us were in-call when we'd play Payday 2 together as a group. It never smacked of genuine criticism for Yado's writing ability or style, as she only ever used childish language when doing it, and she would always do it right before she would try to push her own ideas and fics onto any of us who were online at the time. She was even trying to bully lilspacewolfie--which I will go more into later--over the tiniest of things. DesBea, in all of her posts, was either pushing someone else down, trying to make us all read about her rather disturbing fic ideas or headcanons, or trying to make herself look like the victim by claiming that she 'had bad experiences with abuse in the past' and that her 'PTSD was triggered over something someone in Ramblers had said' when we were trying to halt her bullshit.

It was all very aggravating to deal with, to say the least, but it also didn't have very much staying power, since most of us were just ignoring her in the server. And I do mean that, as most of the users in the Ramblers Discord server refused to interact with her posts over time, and people usually ignored her whenever she tried to insert herself into their conversations. It's probably why she left without much of a fight when lilspacewolfie posted "If you're being an asshole in this server, you better stop that shit right now" in the general chat. (That's not what she said, but y'all get the jist.)

Now, as for her bullying behavior in the server, I can't say for certain if she was targeting anyone besides lilspacewolfie (and badmouthing Yado from time to time, who wasn't even in the server), as I'm not a very outgoing or talkative individual. Despite the length of this post, I'm naturally quite taciturn, and even though I was a moderator in Ramblers, nobody in the server ever messaged me about any issues that they were having with anyone. But, I can say with accuracy that DesBea would go out of her way to harass lilspacewolfie--the creator and owner of the Red's Ramblers Discord server. Whenever she would join calls while we were playing together (but she was just watching from the server), she would only ever type in the voice chat channel, where she would wax poetic about her own fics and get rather offended that 'lilspacewolfie was intentionally ignoring her'. If we were playing a game of Payday 2 with her, DesBea would intentionally follow lilspacewolfie around as a character that she didn't particularly care for and spam callouts to scare and irritate her. And, when another user in the server was having an issue that caused them a lot of distress and made them go quiet for awhile (which had nothing to do with anyone or anything in Ramblers, when they were asked about it), DesBea tried to blame lilspacewolfie for it based on a lighthearted joke that she had made that dogged on Houston. So, not only was she trying to harass lilspacewolfie, but she was actively trying to turn others in the server against the owner of the Discord, as if she could muscle her out by making her out to be a villain.

Over a joke about a FICTIONAL character.

Because she started insinuating that lilspacewolfie had caused another user to 'go into a depressive spiral, and chased them away from the server with her insensitive comments about Houston', I got involved to shut that shit down. DesBea was always weirdly attached to me, because she had DM'd me a few times on Tumblr in the past. I can only guess that she thought that these few smatterings of messages made me her friend, and since, apparently, some people here think of me as being "Mr. John Payday", she figured that she could use me as an intimidating wall to hide behind whenever she was called out on her bullshit.

She was wrong.

After a while of still trying to get others in the server to hate lilspacewolfie for 'being mean to one of the other users in the server'--who ended up coming back once their mental health had improved, by the way--she finally left after the "Stop being a dick" post, and it took us a couple days to notice. So, all-in-all, it was a very weird and irritating experience, but, in this context, it shows a worrying trend of behavior that she ended up spreading to other servers.

Now, like I kind of glossed over earlier, I WAS a moderator in Red's Ramblers. (I ended up leaving the server last month due to personal reasons that're not germane to this situation, and I have no desire to talk about it on this forum.) As I was still a mod before I left, I took the time to delete every post and reaction made by people who were no longer in the server--this amounted to 7 people, DesBea included. So, all of her posts that I could've screencapped as evidence are gone, and even if they were still there, I wouldn't have access to them anymore, anyway. In fact, the only thing that I have left is this picture I took of my response to her whole "You're a bad person for hating Houston" spiel that she was going on and on about:

(I censored this to give some privacy to the person who DesBea tried to use as a cudgel to smack lilspacewolfie with blame for their condition at the time. Even though most people here probably won't recognize them from their in-server nickname, I didn't want to take any chances.)

But, anyway, as you have read from the callout post and these personal anecdotes that I have provided, her behavior in their server was an unsurprising, but also a very worrying trend that has effected at least 2 Discord servers and a good chunk of some of the people who were or still are in the Payday fandom.

If anything that y'all have read over these posts has angered any of y'all to the point of harassing her, PLEASE DON'T. Don't send her hate--anonymously or not. Don't engage with her. Just block her and make sure that others in the fandom are aware of her behavior, so they can avoid her if they wish to as well.

And, again, please tell me if she's operating under any usernames other than the ones I've listed. I was tired of her bullshit a long time ago, and I have no desire to entertain her further under yet another pseudonym.

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name