#there's 8 if you know what you're looking

[l1tw1ck]

Thunder

Bottom!FTM Cloud Strife x Top!Male Reader

⛈️ Word Count: 1,799 ⛈️

While out on a mission, you and Cloud get caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing you to find shelter for the night until it stops. But after a couple days, there aren't any signs of it letting up

AFAB Language Used | I had writer's block and got bored so i decided to finally continue playing final fantasy. I stopped like 30 minutes in to write this fic at 12AM. i put down the game (temporarily! i love it) after the section 8 stuff so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies, just needed to take advantage of this burst of motivation

CW: Rape/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Power Imbalance, Frottage, Teasing, Creampie

You peek outside the window, or what was left of it, of the broken down building you're in then turn to Cloud. “Looks like we’ll have to stay the night.” Lightning strikes to reinforce your words. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”

“Stop treating me like a rookie.” Cloud sighs. “And stop calling me pretty boy.”

“It's hard when you look like an adorable little kitten.” You smile.

He rolls his eyes and looks around for burnable items.

“It's like watching a lion cub hunt and gather.”

“I can't wait for this night to be over.” He groans. “How about you do something useful, captain?”

“Like what, kitty?”

Cloud grips the damp piece of wood in his hand in annoyance. “Like maybe finding things to keep the water out of here.” He tosses the wood aside.

“Sure.” You stretch.

The two of you worked together to make the old building livable for the night and went to sleep thinking it’d be over by morning.

Cloud wakes up to the loud sound of thunder and sighs. He sees you leaning against the wall. “It's still raining.”

“It sure is.” You chuckle. “We might be here for a while, kitty. Unless you want to run out and somehow dodge all that lightning?”

The two of you are way too far from the base to even consider doing that. The job pays well but not enough for Cloud to not be annoyed with this sudden detour. “I better get a bonus for this.”

“Of course. You could get paid even more if you did me a little favor.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“About 60,000 gil plus your bonus pay.”

“What is it?” He asks, attentive.

You smirk. “Since we're gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, I think it’d be nice to do something as a…pastime of sorts.”

“Stop beating around the bush.”

You motion for him to come over. He rolls his eyes and gets up. “I know you're talented in so many ways,” You grab his wrist and pull him close to you. “And I wanna see if you're talented in this way too.”

He pushes you and steps back, his cheeks red. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.” You laugh.

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

The sun set and the sky continued to pour. Then days passed. You rationed food and managed to find other edible things to keep yourselves alive but the situation isn't all that great for you. You're still functioning, but just by a small margin.

The two of you were able to collect rainwater to drink and help yourselves clean up. Cloud insisted on doing it upstairs so you wouldn't watch him. You promised you wouldn't but you were lying.

As time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep it in your pants. Your mental state started to get a little wonky thanks to your body not getting all the nutrients it needs. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted him, especially since it was better than thinking about food. It got to a point where you couldn't even fall asleep.

You look at Cloud’s sleeping face, studying the slight movements in his facial muscles as he dreams. The soft glow of your lamp allows you to properly see him despite the darkness. His chest slowly rises and falls. You know if you made an attempt, he’d wake up, any good soldier would. But it's getting hard to control yourself. Being in such close proximity with him is driving you mad. You hesitantly, and very softly, touch his shoulder. He doesn't react. You poke his cheek. Nothing. You pause.

You trace your finger down his chest and to his pants. You carefully unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn't seem to notice you pulling them down. You take in a small breath. You're so nervous it feels like there's a hole in your chest. You remove his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace. You gulp as you start to see his pussy. Light blond tufts of hair beautifully surround his soft, pudgy cunt and his t-dick. You look at him. He's sleeping peacefully. He must be more tired than usual tonight.

You gently pull his underwear down his ankles and place it on the end of the blanket he’s laying on. You carefully spread his legs and slot yourself in between them. As you begin to free your aching hard dick, you start to feel a little bad. You tell yourself to give him a huge bonus after this. You gently rub your cock along his pussy, knowing you can definitely get off just by doing this. You don't want it to hurt, at least not too much, so you decide not to penetrate him since your luck would probably run out if you tried to prep him properly.

You bite down on your lip. The view is making you feel dizzy. Your ears drown out the sounds of the thunder storm and focus entirely on Cloud. On his soft, gentle breaths and the squelching sound of his wet pussy, aroused by your cock pressing itself against it. Your heart starts to pound louder, ruining your focus on Cloud.

You let out a breathy gasp as you begin to feel your climax approaching. Your eyes flicker over to his face, watching to make sure he's still asleep. You don't know how you’ve gotten this far but you're no longer so sure that you’ll be able to stop here. Your movements stutter as your cum splatters on his body.

“Cloud..” You whisper. His lack of reaction emboldens you to keep going. You move back and slide your middle finger inside his cunt. Squelch. It sucks it in with ease, and same with your ring finger. You slowly open him up while using your free hand to jerk yourself off. He twitches. You pause and look at him before continuing.

You eventually decide to stop and finally get to the good part. You gently lift Cloud’s legs and position the tip of your cock in front of his entrance. You take your time easing into him while constantly checking if he's awake.

Once you're finally fully inside, you take a couple minutes to take everything in. You're in serious disbelief but way too horny to be concerned about it. You know that, at this point, if he wakes up, you’ll be able to overpower him.

You slowly thrust into him, happily indulging in the wonders of Cloud Strife’s pussy. You gently caress his t-dick, smiling when you start to hear him whimper. “You feel so good, Cloud– ‘s like you were made for me, to tempt me..” You murmur, gradually picking up the pace. “I didn't think it’d be so easy…”

“Maybe you're not even asleep. No properly trained soldier would sleep through something like this…I wonder if you're enjoying this. Getting off on me assaulting you in your sleep like a slut.” You notice his cheeks starting to turn red. A chill runs down your spine as you start to get a feeling your assumption is correct. “You like this, Cloud? Letting yourself get taken advantage of? Does it feel good getting treated like a cocksleeve?”

He whimpers, his cunt squeezing you.

“I know you're awake. Answer me.”

His eyes flutter open, his face flushed and deliciously seductive. “It– it feels good-!” He moans.

“Good boy.” You grin. You never would've thought Cloud would be into something like this. You roughly pound into him. He cries out in pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside and you're gonna take it like the good kitty you are.”

“Ye- yes–!” He shuts his eyes, squirting on your dick. His mouth hangs open as the aftershocks hit him. He smiles dreamily as he feels your cum flow inside of him.

You stop and catch your breath. “Did you reject me hoping this would happen?”

Cloud nods softly. “I didn't think it would…but I wanted it to.”

…..........

He pushes you and steps back. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

Cloud climbed the semi-intact stairs and explored the second floor of the building. There wasn't anything noteworthy inside but it did give him much needed privacy. No room to lay down but he didn't need to anyway.

He walked behind a wall to hide himself in case you decided to follow him, and unbuckled his pants. He stuck his hand down them and gently caressed his t-dick. He always knew you were attracted to him, it wasn't like you were hiding it, and he pretended that he hated it. He loves your pet names and the lustful way you look at his body. Part of him hoped that one day, you’d just force yourself on him and claim him like a prize. He didn't think it'd ever happen but he never got tired of fantasizing about it. He hoped he'd have some sort of opportunity for you to finally make your move.

He'd imagine you cornering him in the locker room showers and covering his mouth to make sure no one finds out.

Cloud sneakily rubs his sensitive nipples against the cold wall tiles as you enter him. “Shh, this is what you get for being such a tease.” You spank him, your cock forcefully entering his pussy. Cloud shivers at the sounds of your heavy breathing. He can tell how aroused you are and how much you love his body. He rolls his eyes back as you stretch him wide open, his own heavy breaths making him feel lightheaded.

Or he’d imagine you giving him an ultimatum and forcing him to submit to you in exchange for keeping his job.

Cloud fakes a look of disgust as he stares at your rock hard cock. He looks up at you then back at your length, hesitating before enveloping it in his mouth. “There you go, Cloud, finally doing what I hired you for.” You praise him. He shudders at the thought, his pussy throbbing with need. “This is what you should be doing, not out on the battlefield but here, pleasing me.”

He looks up at you, trying to look angry. You smirk and push his head down, forcing him to shift his focus back.

His latest fantasy was about being trapped together. He hoped that something would happen to keep the two of you together for a long time. And he’d tease you even more to frustrate you. Then you’d finally do it.

He didn't think that exact scenario would actually play out.

[smellslikechahnspirit]

heyyy chan’s spirit!! I love your writing so much and had a little fic idea I wanted to share! Could you write something where channie’s wife asks him to get intimate for the first time after they find out she’s pregnant? It doesn’t need to be explicit—just soft and emotional, focusing on their love and connection. Totally okay if it’s not your vibe, but I’d love to see your take on it!

Ofcourse! It's a bit short, but I hope you still like it :)

Absolutely 🤍

[Husband Channie and y/n being intimate after finding out their pregnant for the first time (not NSFW)]

Bang Chan x Reader

🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.

[8:05 PM]

You both were on the couch, watching Arcane. It was the weekend. Not any kind of weekend. This weekend was special. It officially has been 2 months since you two found out you were having a little baby. Both of you have wanted this for quite a while and were very excited to finally share the news with everyone. But it was Friday night. You wanted to announce it first thing tomorrow morning. Today was the last day it would just be between you two.

''I still can't believe it...'', you said out of the blue. ''Hm?'', Channie replied who was sleepily laying with his head on you lap. He looked up at your face which was shining bright. ''Our baby. I can't believe it's finally happening.'', you spoke swiftly.

He smiled at you, turning around a bit so his face faced your tummy. ''I know baby, me too. Can't wait to see the members faces tomorrow haha.'', he said. You laughed. ''They're gonna be great uncles.'' ''I'm sure they will honey.'', he replied. ''Kinda liked the little secret we had for a while tho.''. After you said that you pouted. ''Hm me too.'', he said as he kissed your stomach softly. ''Can't believe it's been 2 months already...'', Chan said right after. ''Yea, 7 more to go.''. As you said this you kinda looked..I don't know how to put it...off? You looked disappointed. Or rather annoyed.

''Something wrong baby? You feeling okay?''. ''Nah, I'm fine.'', you said as you pushed him off your lap soflty, so you could get up. Since you're pregnant, he kind of just let you. Normally he would've made you stay and talk it out right then and there, but he knew you were uncomfortable enough as it is.

''Sure?'', he asked you while watching you walk towards your shared bedroom. He only saw you nod and disappear behind the door.

He got concerned, more then confused.

He knew your emotions were all over the place, but seeing you raise a wall was never a good sign. After a good 5 minutes he decided to check up on you.

He walked into the bedroom. The door was still slightly opened. ''Knock knock...can I come in darling?''. ''Ofcourse.'', you said smiling soflty. He walked in slowly, holding a cup of your favoured tea. ''Got ya this.''. He put it down next to you. He kept looking at your face, trying to decipher what was the matter.

''Y/n, please tell me..what's going on. Are you feeling sick? Worried? Don't deal with this by yourself baby, please.'', he said as he rubbed your arm soflty. ''It's just...''. He looked you in the eyes, making you look back at him. ''It's what?'', he said very quiet. ''I guess I'm just a bit worried.'' ''Hmhm, worried bout what sweetie?''.

He now sat down next to you, giving you a small kiss. Patiently waiting for you to tell him what was bothering you. ''Do you still love me? Or just because I'm pregnant now, you feel like you have to?''. He was shook by your words. Completely unaware that you felt this way. ''Y/n? Are you...okay? How...what??? Why would you ask me that. I love you to death. Does it look like I don't love you anymore?''. He was really confused. ''No, I mean...I don't know...''. ''Baby...?'', he asked confused. ''Well...since you found out I was pregnant...we haven't...had sex. Like not even once. Are you not willing to have sex with me, for the next 7 months either?''.

He now understood your thought, but this was never his intention. ''Babe...first of all, why didn't you tell me this sooner? And second...it's not that I don't wanna have sex with you. I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.''.

''Uncomfortable?'', you looked up with big eyes. ''Well, I don't know...since that day we found out...you kind of have been all about the safety of the baby, and health for your body and doing yoga and etc. Just everything. I felt like, me bothering you with my needs, was something that would stress you out. I just didn't want to put pressure on you, into thinking you had to, since your body is now a temple to keep safe.''.

''What does sex have to do with that?''. He also didn't think this through too much. These last 8 weeks have been stressful for the both of you. ''I don't know what else to say... I never meant for it to seem like I didn't want to, I wanted to...everyday actually.''.

Your eyes lit up. ''Really? You don't think it's weird now?'' ''Weird? No. Do I feel like we have to be carefull and mindfull about this? Yes. I don't wanna hurt you in any way baby.'', he said wisely.

Instead of worry, all you felt now was happiness, being in a position that a man like this was the man who you were having a baby with. ''You're actually amazing, you know that babe?''. He smiled, then giving you a deep kiss. And the kiss kept going. And going. When after a while he was laying on top of you.

''Let me take care of you tonight. I will be gentle in every way. You deserve a treat, after this long.''.

He knew how these 8 weeks have been on your body, let alone how difficult the other 7 months are gonna be on you.

''You sure you wanna do this?'', you asked. ''Absolutely.''.

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[thequeenofcurses]

Birthday Wishes, Cursed Kisses (f!Reader x Sukuna)

Summary: Sukuna takes you out for your birthday (sfw)

wk: 1300

(re-uploading this so I can organize it properly)

A/N Sorry I meant for this to be a short drabble, but I got carried away. It’s my first real jjk story post on here! I wrote this for @yuujispinkhair, who is someone that is super inspiring to me and her stories make me s happy. Happy Birthday to her!

Part 2 (nsfw)

10:45 pm

You checked your phone and sighed. Why did I even bother staying up this late on a Monday, you thought to yourself. Tomorrow’s just another day anyways.

You turn on one of your favorite romance audiobooks and set your phone to sleep mode.

11:59 pm

buzz buzz The vibration from your phone made you open your eyes, but exhaustion won the fight and you shut them close again. 

8:15 am

“Wake up, woman,” came a deep, sultry voice from your doorway. “Eat these while they’re fresh”.

“Huh?” you croak out, throat still dry from barely waking up. Your boyfriend Sukuna stood nearly as tall as your bedroom doorframe. “Did you warm me up leftovers or something?”

“Tch,” he rolled his eyes and walked into your room, sitting atop your bed. “You really thought I would give you leftovers, today?”

“Well, it’s just Tuesday,” you responded nonchalantly while stretching. Your hair was messy, you're missing one sock, and you even had some drool on your cheek; yet Sukuna stared at you like you were the Mona Lisa.

“Hmph,” he scoffed. “Woman, it’s your birthday. So you’re going to eat one of these cupcakes, shower, then get ready to have the best damn birthday ever.” You blink back surprised that he remembered, but butterflies fill your stomach nonetheless. You’ve only been dating the town’s local bad boy, Sukuna, for a few weeks. 

You nod and take the red velvet with dark chocolate cupcake into your hands, the confetti wrapping still warm. The aroma from the dessert filled your nose as you leaned down to take a bite. “Mhmm,” you softly moan to yourself. “This is delicious. Thank you”

“I texted you last night,” Sukuna waves off your thanks. “I wanted… to be the first person to tell you.”

As you finished the last bite of the world’s best cupcake, you gasped. You haven’t checked your phone since last night.

11:59pm, yesterday

Sukuna sent you a chat!

It’s your day, isn’t it? Don’t get used to all this attention. But since I’m feeling generous, I might grace you with my presence later. Happy birthday, brat.

Your heart skipped a beat reading his message. Speechless, you rose from your spot on the bed and jumped into his strong, warm arms. “Oh? Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” he said with a smirk. “Guess I can’t blame you.”

“Thank you, Kuna. The cupcake was delicious.” You blushed, realizing you were still unkempt.  “I’ll go get ready now.” You walked to your bathroom and hopped into the shower.

“Wear something warm!” he shouted from the other side of the door. “You’re not getting my jacket if you get cold.”

You are dressed in a black sweater dress with dark maroon leggings, and black winter uggs. Your makeup was very natural looking, yet accentuated all of your best features. You topped the look with a golden bracelet that had an ‘S’ inside of a heart. Sukuna gave it to you when you two made your relationship official. When you come out of the bathroom, you find Sukuna sitting on your couch.

“Wow,” he said while standing up to meet you. Tch. Who are you trying to impress looking like that? “Not bad. Try not to let all this attention go to your head though.” Sukuna smirked before reaching down into his pocket. “One more thing.” He pulled out a black box, but before he could open it, it slipped out of his hand. “Shit,” he muttered. He bent down on one knee to grab it.

“Oh. Sukuna… I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you blushed sheepishly. 

“Huh?” Sukuna frowns, not immediately understanding what you mean. Oh “I’m not proposing woman. It slipped from my hands.”

You blushed once again, feeling even more awkward about the misunderstanding. “Trust me, when I propose, it’ll be very lavish and grand. I can promise you that. Here, turn around.” Sukuna opens the black box, pulling out an alluring gold necklace. The pendant was in the shape of the ‘N’N’ type symbol tattooed on Sukuna’s forehead. It was littered with diamonds and it had a red ruby in the middle. He gently pushes your hair out of the way, before placing the necklace onto you and locking it into place. “There. You look perfect. Mine” He whispered the last word in your ear.

You looked in the mirror before you left, loving the necklace. In fact, you kept touching it all day long to make sure it was there. First you two go see a movie, Red One, in a theater that was way too cold. Damn, I should’ve brought a coat. I thought this sweater would’ve been enough.

Next, you two go ice skating. Sukuna being perfect at everything he does, skated around on the ice flawlessly. You stumble and slip a few times, but Sukuna is always there to catch you. “Tch. Can’t even stay on your feet? What am I going to do with you?" he said with a shit-eating smirk. You clung to him during most of your session, but he never complained.

After your ice skating date, he takes you to get dinner, then your favorite ice cream shop. Two gingerbread scoops for you and one strawberry scoop for him. You two sit outside by the fireplace, eating your individual ice cream cones before the fire suddenly goes out.

“Shit,” you muttered, starting to shake from the cold. “I thought this sweater would be enough to keep me warm.”

"I told you to dress warm, didn’t I woman?” Sukuna scoffed, taking off his coat and draping it around you. “But no, you just had to be stubborn." You two quickly finish your ice cream and then head back to your apartment. 

The sky was a hue of oranges and a hint of pink, like his hair, as the sun was setting on your drive back home. Sukuna walked you up to your apartment door.

Your hand subconsciously returned to your neck, fiddling with the new necklace. “Thank you for the gift, Sukuna,” you said trying to hide your smile. “I didn’t expect today to be as great as it was, and it was only a great day because of you.”

“Tch. Don’t make such a big deal out of it. I only got it because I felt like it." Sukuna shook his head in denial. “Besides, I can’t take all the credit.” He walked closer to you, nearly pressing you up against your apartment door. “Your parents made one hell of a daughter.” 

Your heart fluttered at the compliment. You wanted to thank him again, but couldn’t find the right words, so you kissed him. The kiss was like snow meeting the sun. It was freezing cold outside, but his lips and his body is what kept you warm. It was passionate, yet demanding all the same.

“I hope you had a good birthday,” he said after breaking the kiss. He started to walk away before pointing at the necklace "Just don’t lose it, alright? It’s yours."

A/N I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! I wanted to write a spicy scene after they got back to her apartment but this was already getting too long. Idk if yuujispinkhair or anyone would even want to read that. Anyway, happy birthday to her and anyone else born during winter!

Part 2 (nsfw)

banner: @cafekitsune

[wheels-of-despair]

I'm Gonna Love You Forever Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets some upsetting news and has to hide out at Evil Woman's house for a little while… it's an angsty one, kids. Contains: Fear and nightmares, bed-wetting and blood, childhood trauma and abuse, comfort and reassurance, a declaration of love. Words: 3.7k

A thwap comes from your right.

You glance over and chuckle. Eddie is lying next to you on your bed, on his stomach, and his face is planted in the middle of the history textbook he's supposed to be reading.

"Are you absorbing the necessary information better that way?" you ask, turning your attention back to a battered classroom-issued paperback.

"No," he grunts. "Need a break."

"I understand. You've been reading for a whole," you check your watch, "three minutes."

He groans.

"Finish this chapter and we'll take a break."

He groans louder, head still in his book. And then the phone rings. His head pops up. "It's Wayne, he says I gotta come home right now, can't study any more."

"Shut up," you laugh, smacking his denim-clad ass with your book as you get up and go to answer the phone.

Your brother already has it. You stand in the hallway with your arms crossed, waiting for either a hand-off or a dismissal. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand.

"Eddie's uncle wants to talk to him," he says lowly. You nod, hold up a finger, and return to your room.

"You're in luck, Munson; it really is Wayne."

Instead of looking relieved, Eddie looks concerned. It's understandable; Wayne never calls here. Eddie scrambles out of bed and skids into the hallway on his socked feet.

You sit on the bed and open your book, but don't absorb a single word... because you can hear Eddie's side of the conversation.

"What? Why? No. No. I can't. I'll stay at Rick's or something. I'll let you know. Bye."

It's tense. It's rushed. Something is definitely wrong. You toss your book aside when he hurries back into your bedroom. He closes your door and leans against it, face even paler than usual.

"You okay?" you ask, knowing the answer.

His lip begins to tremble. His eyes start to well. You're off the bed and wrapping your arms are around him in an instant. He squeezes you and buries his face in your neck.

"What happened? Is Wayne okay?"

Eddie sounds like he's starting to hyperventilate, so you guide him toward the bed. You get him to sit, then kneel on the floor in front of him and hold his hands in yours. He's hunched over; his eyes are scrunched tight, his face looking a little green.

"Breathe, baby. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe."

He squeezes your hands until you begin losing feeling in your fingers, but you don't let go. You couldn't, even if you wanted to. Eventually, his breathing slows and he releases his death grip on your hands.

"My dad's out."

You've been dating Eddie Munson for more than six months, and he's barely mentioned his father. You never asked about his parents; you figured if he wanted you to know, he'd tell you. And he did, occasionally. You'd gathered that neither of them were the nurturing type. You knew they were alcoholics. You knew Eddie's mother died when he was 7, and that he came to live with Wayne when he was 8. Everything else was something of a mystery that you figured he'd reveal in time, when he was ready.

Eddie takes a shuddering breath and begins: "He was supposed to be doing 15 years. It's only been 12. He showed up at the trailer a little while ago. Wayne says he wants to see me." Tears fall when he shakes his head. "I can't."

"Baby, you don't have to," you tell him softly. He closes his eyes. "Eddie, you don't have to see him if you don't want to. You're a grown-up. He can't make you do anything." He covers his face with his hands, and you move upward to wrap your arms around him again.

"I don't want to go home," he whimpers.

"So stay with me."

"Yeah, I bet your mom would love that," he says sarcastically, pulling back and swiping at his eyes.

"She literally went to court to fight my dad when we said we didn't want to see him anymore. She'll understand."

"I don't know how long it'll be 'til he fucks off."

"That's okay."

"What if she says no?"

"She won't," you say confidently.

You don't know what his father did to him, or why he was locked up, or why Eddie is so scared, but you know one thing: if that old man comes near the boy you love, it'll be the last thing he ever does.

You move your books to the floor and lie down on the bed together. Eddie buries his face in your chest and lets you hold him tight. You lie there in silence, gently playing with his hair, until you hear your mom come home from work.

"Be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

When you return to your room, Eddie is curled into a ball on his side, hugging your pillow. He looks up at you with fearful, red-rimmed eyes. You ease back onto the bed, lying down to face him, and reach out to tuck his shaggy hair behind his ear.

"Mom talked to Wayne," you tell him quietly. "He thinks staying here for a few days is a good idea, too. Said he'd bring you some stuff on his way to work. Is that okay? Will you stay?"

"Do you really want me?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course I do," you smile. You gaze into his big brown eyes and feel your heart swell. "I'd keep you with me all the time if I could." You kiss his the tip of his nose. "Oh, and Mom says she's making lasagna for dinner, in honor of getting our very own Garfield."

He snorts.

Eddie follows you into the kitchen when it's time for dinner like he usually does. He stays to eat with you several times a week anyway, so nothing feels at all out of the ordinary.

Until he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone knocks at the door. You place a hand on his leg under the table when your mom goes to answer it.

You both let out a quiet sigh of relief when you see Wayne step inside. He follows your mom into the kitchen, carrying a brown grocery bag and Eddie's Sweetheart.

"Can you spare a few minutes for dinner, Wayne?" your mom asks.

"No, ma'am, just came to drop off some stuff for the boy on my way to work."

Eddie gets up to take his things from his uncle.

"Talk to you outside for a minute?" Wayne asks.

"Yeah." Eddie sets his bag and other lover aside and follows Wayne outside. You stare at the door nervously while your mom packs a meal in Tupperware for Wayne to take with him.

When they return, Eddie looks shy, like a kid who's been coached on how to thank relatives for a gift he didn't really want. He takes his seat, and Wayne hovers in the doorway.

"Thank you again for takin' him in, ma'am. He gives you any trouble, you give me a call."

You smirk. Eddie blushes furiously and refuses to look in your direction.

Your mom laughs warmly. "Please. Eddie's never any trouble. We're always happy to have him." She hands the Tupperware container to Wayne. "Take this."

"Ma'am, I--"

"Take it." You're pleased to see that the Don't Argue With Me Voice works on grown-ups too.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Now Eddie's the one smirking, and Wayne's the one blushing.

"Alright," Wayne rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "I gotta get goin'. Thank you again, ma'am. Call if you need anything. And you?" Eddie looks up to see his uncle pointing at him. "Be good."

Eddie nods, and Wayne leaves with his Tupperware meal.

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully, and afterwards, you and Eddie pick up the Wayne-delivered goods and return to your room to pretend to finish your homework.

"Where can I…?" Eddie spins around in the middle of your room, looking for a safe place to stash Sweetheart.

"Anywhere you want," you smile, placing his bag of clothes in your desk chair and dropping onto the bed. "Mi casa es… Sweetheart's casa?"

He settles her in a corner, then comes to join you on the edge of the bed. He lets out a sigh that it seems like he's been holding for hours. You wrap an arm around his back and rest your chin on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He leans against you. "Wayne thinks he'll fuck off in a few days. Most of his old buddies are either dead or locked up. He's staying at the shitty motel by the laundromat. Wayne says he'll probably go back to my grandma's when he runs out of money."

"You have a grandma?" you ask.

Eddie waits a beat.

"That's what you got out of that?"

"You've never mentioned her."

He shrugs, making your head bob with his shoulder. "Didn't like my mom. Didn't like me. Don't know much about her."

"What's Wayne think about him being back?"

"Same thing I do. Wish he'd get hit by a fuckin' truck."

You're rubbing your hand up and down his back when a voice calls from the hall.

"I'm watching Dawn of the Dead, if you losers wanna quit sucking face long enough to enjoy some real entertainment."

You lift your head from Eddie's shoulder. "Wanna?"

"Does it mean I don't have to finish my history homework?" he asks hopefully.

"I was gonna skim the chapter and summarize for you anyway."

"Fuck yeah," he grins.

You head to the living room, get comfortable on the couch, and lose yourselves in zombieland for the next two hours. Not what you would've picked for a soothing distraction from a horrifying reality, but it seems to work for Eddie.

He seems calmer as you get ready for bed. You stand together at the bathroom sink to brush your teeth, letting the toothpaste dribble out of your mouths and growling like zombies at each other in the mirror.

This is, of course, when your mother walks by to say goodnight: When you've both got toothpaste dripping off your chins.

"I don't even want to know," she shakes her head, trying and failing to conceal her smile. "Everything's locked up, I'm going to bed." She doesn't usually announce that everything's locked up, but you appreciate her trying to pass it off as normal for Eddie's benefit.

"G'night," you both gurgle through your foam-filled mouths. She lightly smacks her own forehead with her palm and walks away laughing. You lean forward to spit and grin at each other in the mirror.

Once the lights are off and you're in bed, Eddie practically crawls on top of you. You hold him tight and stroke his hair, finding that one spot on his scalp that's been known to knock him out. It works. You hope his dreams are much happier than his reality as you begin to drift off to the sound of his steady breathing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck."

You open your eyes to a strange chant and suddenly remember that Eddie is supposed to be with you. You can't feel him. You roll out of bed and turn on the lamp. He's kneeling on the mattress, hair a mess.

"Turn around," he orders. "Don't look."

"Eddie, what's going on?"

"Turn around!"

You're in such a panic, you can't just turn your back on him. Your eyes drift from his frantic eyes to the wet spot he's trying to shield with his body. When your eyes meet his again, he crumbles.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he cries.

"Babe, it's okay," you begin.

"I'm so fucking sorry, just let me get my shit and I'll go," he continues.

"Eddie, would you stop?"

"I wish I was fucking dead, I'm so fuc--"

"Eddie! Stop!" Your sharp tone scares him enough to make him stop rambling.

You step toward a corner of the bed and pull the sheet back to reveal what's underneath.

"Look. Mattress pad. Easy fix. By morning, we can pretend it never happened."

He looks from the white corner of the fabric to you, and then back again. His mouth opens and closes several times.

You lean against your dresser and speak softly, resisting the urge to close the distance and embarrass him further. "You're aware that I hemorrhage for a significant amount of time every month, right?"

He nods.

"Sometimes I bleed through. My last mattress looked like such a murder scene, Mom was afraid to transport it across state lines. It's not a big deal. I go through this all the time."

He sniffs.

"Why don't you go hop in the shower? Just put your clothes in the hamper, and I'll throw a load of laundry in."

He starts to protest.

"Nobody'll suspect a thing," you cut him off before he can even begin. "I go through this at least once a month. It's practically expected of me. Nobody'll know."

He looks downward, and you let him consider his options.

"Can you turn around?" he asks quietly.

"Yep."

You turn your back and hear him rustling through his paper bag, and then hear the door open and close. You strip the sheets - only the bottom sheet had any traces of his shame - and ball them up.

You weren't lying; this does happen occasionally. Perhaps not as often as you implied, but enough that nobody would raise an eyebrow at the washing machine going at 3 am. You clean the spot on the mattress pad, change the sheets, re-make the bed, and grab clean pajamas. You'll throw your current ones in with the load, to support your 'It Was Me' story, should anyone question it. (They won't, but it would probably make Eddie feel better.)

"Did any get on you?" He'd crept back into your room so quietly, you hadn't even noticed him. He's eyeing the fresh stack of pajamas you've placed on top of the dresser.

"Nope," you smile, turning around. "Figured we could do with a complete re-set. I'll be right back."

You grab the sheets in one hand and your pajamas in the other, and head to the bathroom to collect Eddie's clothes.

Four minutes later, you return to your room. Eddie is sitting on the floor, leaning against your dresser, his knees to his chest. You sit next to him, but not close enough to touch him. Not yet.

"Please don't beat yourself up over this," you beg. "It's not a big deal."

"Fucking embarrassing."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He doesn't respond. You stretch your legs out in front of you, cross your ankles, and get comfortable.

"You know I'm gonna marry you one of these days, right?"

Still nothing.

"What do you reckon our life expectancy is? I figure we've got what, maybe 50 years ahead of us? That's a lot of time."

You place your hand on the floor between you, palm up, to see if he'll take it. He doesn't.

"I'm gonna love you forever," you inform him. "Sickness, health, weird haircuts, awful tattoos, all that jazz. I will love you if you suddenly develop a fondness for Madonna or disco dancing. I'll even love you if you become that guy who brings an acoustic guitar to parties and expects everyone to sit around and listen to him. Actually, maybe not with that one. Please don't be that guy." You pause, hoping for a laugh. When it doesn't come, you clear your throat and continue. "Point is, there's almost nothing that could make me stop loving you. This, right here? Doesn't change a thing. I fucking love you. Get used to it."

He lets it sink in, and then he sighs. Finally, he reaches for your hand. Your fingers lace together. You look over at him, and he slowly meets your eye.

"I fucking love you too."

"You better, Munson," you wink.

He smiles a tiny smile.

"Ready to go back to bed?"

He hesitates and asks, "Can I go out and smoke first?"

"Baby, you're a refugee, not a prisoner. You don't have to ask permission to leave."

"Right," he groans, hauling himself off the floor. He holds out his hands to help you up, and you take them.

"Do you want company, or do you need a minute?" you ask once you're standing.

He shrugs, looking at the floor.

"Because that's okay," you smile, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.

"What's okay?"

"Needing a minute," you explain. "I just announced my intention to lock you down forever. We're probably gonna occasionally need a minute to ourselves."

"You can come with me," he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You follow him to the back door, put on your jackets and shove your feet into your shoes, and step out into the darkness. You sit next to each other on the porch steps, resting your head on his shoulder and huddling together for warmth as Eddie smokes in silence. It's pretty peaceful out tonight. The black sky is cloudless and dotted with stars. The air feels clean and crisp. Eddie's body provides just enough heat that you're not too bothered by the cold.

He seems calmer after he smokes his cigarette down to the butt, but he uses the tip to light another. It's going to be a long night. You press your fingers between your thighs, starting to feel the chill set in.

"You know the Speedway just this side of the county line?"

A run-down gas station with a cracked parking lot and a flickering neon sign comes to mind. Yeah. You know of it, but you've never been in. Gareth had suggested dropping in for snacks once when you passed by, but Eddie had said everything in there was overpriced and kept driving. You hadn't thought anything of it at the time; you and Eddie are 7-Eleven people, after all.

"Yeah," you whisper.

Eddie pauses so long, you wonder if he's reconsidering telling you whatever he was about to reveal.

"We were on a beer run," he says eventually. "Dad was already hammered. Ran over our mailbox and took out the neighbor's trash can on the way out. Swerved all over the road. I used to think it was fun, riding like that, but looking back I'm surprised nobody died." Eddie stops to take a long drag. "I stuck a pack of Sno-Balls under my shirt while Dad was paying for his beer. You know, those pink coconut cakes?" He glances at you for confirmation, and you nod. "The thought of those things makes me sick now. But when you're that hungry, they look fuckin' amazing. Anyway, the cashier spotted me and said something. Dad's face… I mean, it was already red from the drinking. But it looked like his head was going to explode. Eyes poppin' out of his head, vein throbbing in his neck. He grabbed me by the hair and just started whalin' on me, right there in the middle of the store. I heard people yelling, but I… I kinda just scrunched my eyes shut and waited for it to be over, like I always did. And then when I opened them again, Hop had the old man pinned to the floor."

Eddie sniffles and drags his sleeve across his face.

"I know you've never seen my dad, but he's not a big guy. Hopper could've fucking demolished him. But Hop had a busted lip. Blood just dripping out of his mouth and onto the old man. Sometimes I wonder… if maybe Hop let him get a swing in just 'cause he knew that's what it would take to finally put him away. And it did. He got 15 years for assaulting a cop."

A tear streaks down your cheek, and a smile tugs at your lips.

"Took three guys to haul Dad off. Still kicking and screaming. At me, at Hop, I dunno. But Hopper's the one who took me to Wayne's. Bought me a hot dog to eat on the way, and I think it might've been the best fucking thing I've ever eaten. Even with the sore jaw the old man gave me for getting caught. He always said to never trust a cop, but Hop… he's saved my ass more than once. I guess…" Eddie stubs out cigarette #2 and chuckles. "I guess if you have to leave me for somebody, Hop's a decent choice."

You knock your knee against his, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. His eyes are shiny and tear-filled in the moonlight. Is it a crime to think he's beautiful like this?

"What can I say?" you grin. "I've got great taste in men."

Eddie snorts, shakes his head, and stands. He offers you his hands, and you take them and let him help you off the steps. When you stand, he pulls you in for a hug.

"Thanks," he mumbles into your hair. "For tonight. For everything."

You feel like something needs to be said, but you can't find the right words. Instead, you hold him tight and kiss the side of his neck. He melts into you. You stand there, stuck together on your back porch, until a shiver rips through your body.

"Jeez, make us stand outside in the cold all night and get sick, why don't ya," Eddie grumbles, pulling away and putting his hands on your shoulders. He turns you around and pushes you toward the door. "Get inside where it's warm, you crazy woman. You've gotta take care of me for the next 50 years, you don't get to check out early."

You laugh quietly and let him push you inside. You silently shed your jackets and shoes and return to your bedroom, snuggling into your clean sheets and holding onto each other for warmth.

Four days later, Wayne stopped by to tell Eddie that his old man was back in jail where he belonged. Unable to resist the sight of the bar across the street from the shitty motel he was staying in, he'd wandered over, drank too much, and picked a fight with the guy on the stool next to him...

Who happened to be an off-duty Indiana State Trooper, visiting Hawkins to have a drink with an old friend named Jim Hopper.

[gatuchina]

I read through the replies and I hope you don't mind my dumping a bunch of notes:

People mentioned looking for food that's more meat than plants and this is correct but I want to clarify that this doesn't mean cats can't have any plant material whatsoever--for example, my cat's wet food has bits of spinach and carrot and rice and whenever I've removed that from her diet she gets constipated. The big bad to avoid is food that is made mostly of cornmeal or something; this is common in cheap kibble.

It can be helpful to take notes on what you're feeding each day, at least until you figure out what kitten's regular food is going to be. If a given food makes kitten throw up or they just don't like it, you won't waste money accidentally buying it again.

In general, only buy small amounts of a new food until you know for sure the cat will eat it. They can be picky.

There was also mention of dry food being better for teeth. Since you have a young kitten, you actually have a great opportunity to get them used to tooth brushing! Start by just touching their mouth/teeth/gums whenever they're in a cuddly mood. Once they trust you to do that you can start introducing actual brushing (4-week training program on YouTube-short little videos) .

Tooth-brushing supplies: This is the toothpaste my vet calls "the good stuff". Finding small enough brushes is hard. This is a decently cheap 8-pack on Chewy. The Pethroom Extra Small brushes are amazing but more pricey.

Take whatever of this is useful and good luck with your kitten!

Hello do you guys have recommendations for kitten food 👉👈

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers Of The Night (6)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: College! Au, Vampire! Au

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Warning: Smut!! [Oral; f. receiving, unprotected sex, choking, spitting] 18+ ONLY. MDNI

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: as always, @skzdust , my savior, thank you for all your help!

Previous Chapters

Taglist: @steddie-steddie @hongtyong @purple-bell @deadpool15 @purplelady85 @xomakara @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @tsunderelino @iovecb97 @1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez @stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip @kaleigh-2002 @honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis @kpop-choco @chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang @nightmarenyxx @0325tiny @m1nn1everse @igot7bulletproofmonstas

You didn't tell them you were leaving. You stared at what was supposed to be yourself in the mirror, but you felt like you couldn't barely recognize yourself. You had snuck out of the bathroom, glancing over at their table. They were completely immersed in a conversation so you took the opportunity to sneak out of the side door. The cool air felt nice on your skin, it helped cool down your rage, but the one thing you had a hard time wrapping your head around was why you were starting to feel so much rage when around them? This wasn't some little feeling of annoyance when someone makes a stupid joke.

This was a pure, full body, nothing more than just rage and hatred flowing through your body. You walked for a while until you made it back to the house. It was quiet, except for the faint sound of begging from Lilith in the basement. You dropped your bag on the floor, walking to the couch to sit down.

Your leg was still throbbing but you had been a little too terrified to look at it. You took a deep breath, pulling up the leg of your pants, you see three claw marks near your ankle. The scratches looked infected and your stomach dropped. You stood up, ignoring the pain, rushing towards the basement door, ripping it open. You stomp down the stairs, standing a good distance away from Lilith. Your chest is heaving, her back is still towards you. You can hear her giggling, her head hanging down as she begins to laugh harder.

“What did you do to me?” You yell.

She doesn't answer. She sits there, still laughing.

“What the fuck did you do?” You ask, your voice is a little quieter this time.

She doesn't answer. But her laughing stops. She doesn't turn around, she doesn't say anything. She only hums, ignoring you.

You turn around, walking back up the stairs, slamming the basement door shut. You stand there, your head spinning. You were tired, your body felt weak but felt like it was on fire. Whatever was going on with you, was taking its toll on you. You tried to walk towards the stairs to go to your room but it was like your legs were blocks of cement. Sweat dripped down your face as panic set in.

You wanted to call out for help, you wanted to cry but you couldn't and the more you tried, the weaker you felt. Until you felt nothing else at all, your body collapsed to the floor and everything went black.

“Y/N?” Seungmin yells, shaking your unresponsive body. “Y/N?” He calls out again, trying to do whatever he can to help you and wake you up.

The others rush in, seeing Seungmin hunched over your lifeless body, Chan sprinting into action to help you. He picks you up, rushing you upstairs to his room, laying you down gently on his bed. He knows you're alive. He can hear and smell the blood pumping through your veins. He breathes a sigh of relief, though he's confused about what happened to you. He checks your face, your neck, shoulders. You haven't been bitten. Your hands look okay, so what was causing this? He notices your pant leg pushed up ever so slightly more than the other one. He moves off the bed, kneeling at the end of the bed. He gently rolls up your pants a little more, seeing the three scratches he can only assume was left on you by Lilith.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slamming his hand down onto the floor.

You gasp suddenly and loudly, sitting up in the bed, looking around. You're confused, where were you? Your eyes slowly begin to focus, seeing Chan kneeling at the end of the bed, staring at you.

“What happened?” You whisper, laying back down. Chan stands up, swiftly making his way over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You left the restaurant without telling anyone.” He begins.

“I remember that.” You murmur.

“And then when you didn't come back to the table we started looking around for you. Seungmin found you first.” He says. “You passed out.”

“Oh god.” You groan.

“How long have you had those scratches?” He asks.

“Since… um.” You pause. “I found Lilith.”

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” He wonders.

“I was scared to look. I didn't know what happened and I didn't want to look.” You say.

“You should have told us, y/n.” He sighs. “You haven't been yourself since that day.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, a slight change of tone in your voice. Chan detects it immediately. You were beginning to feel the anger build up in you again.

“You've been angry. Distant. You're not yourself.” He says.

“Like you fucking know me? I'm not fucking angry!” You scream, getting off the bed in a hurry, storming out of the room. You stomped the entire way to your room, slamming the door behind you. You were trying to control your breathing as you undressed, deciding you just needed to go to bed for the night. You slipped a long shirt over your head, not worrying about your shorts tonight. You crawled into your bed, Chan's words replaying in your head.

“you're not yourself. You're angry.”

You didn't want to admit it but you were angry. Whenever any of them were around, you were so fucking angry and you were sure it had something to do with Lilith, and you were sure Chan thought the same too. You tossed and turned for the first few hours until you finally felt yourself rest and relax.

Or so you thought.

“Y/n.” You barely hear, your body being shook awake, startling you.

“What? What happened?” You gasp, looking around. Your vision settles, seeing Chan standing over your bed, looking at you worriedly.

“You were screaming in your sleep. Are you okay?” He whispers. You're watching his plump lips move as he talks, And you wanted nothing more than to kiss him at this moment.

So that's what you did. You placed your hand on the back of his head, pulling him down. You could feel him go with it, his lips crashing into yours. You slide your tongue into his mouth, holding him closer to you.

Fuck you were so fucking needy right now and this is what you needed. Chan pulls away as you try to pull him on top of you.

“Y/N.” He breathes.

“Are you saying no?” You pant.

“No, that's not what I'm…” he pauses as you move the blankets off of you. You pull your shirt up a little, spreading your legs, showing him your lack of panties.

“Oh fuck.” He hisses.

“I need you Chan.” You say, pouting. “Don't you need me too?”

“Baby girl, don't say that to me. I've been trying to resist you.” He pauses, leaning in close. “Because once I get a taste, I won't be able to fucking stop.”

“Then don't.” You groan, lifting your shirt up over your breasts. You hear Chan take a sharp breath in as he stands up, undressing faster than you've ever seen anyone before. He stands before you, muscles glistening in the moonlight, his cock painfully hard.

“I don't think you know how long I've waited for this.” He says, pulling you off the bed. He lays down where you just are.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Ride my face.” He demands. You crawl onto the bed, hovering over him, nervous to lower yourself down. “Don't be afraid, let me make you feel good.” He says, pulling you down. You sit on his face, feeling his breath on your cunt. His tongue runs along your wetness, slowly moving up towards your clit. He doesn't stay there for long, licking up and down, with each pass picking up his pace, until he stays at your clit. He wraps his lips around your swelling bud, sucking on you, making your body jolt. His hands run up and down your thighs while you begin to rock yourself against his tongue. Your entire body begins to heat up, nothing but pleasure flowing through you. You can hear him moan from underneath you, the vibration from his lips making it feel even fucking better. You don't pay attention to how loud you are, Instead running your hands all over your body, playing with your nipple before moving up to run your hands through your hair as he brings you closer and closer to your orgasm.

You move your hands down, gripping onto his head, riding his face hard, until your orgasm finally overcomes you, exploding through your body as you scream out.

With ease, Chan lifts you off his face, your body still shaking from your orgasm. You're exhausted already. “I'm not done with you yet.” He laughs, sliding up on the bed. He leans against the headboard, pulling you towards him. You climb on top of him as he holds his cock, letting you sink down onto him.

“Fuck.” He groans. You gasp as your pussy stretches out, feeling full and he is only half way inside you. Chan thrusts up, pushing his already pulsating cock as deep into you as he could. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours. His cold hand gently grazes your face, moving down to your breasts. He leans forward, taking your nipple between his wet lips, swirling the tip of his tongue around it. You moan as you grind on his cock, your arms wrapped around him, dragging your nails across his back while you begin to bounce harder and faster.

“You feel so fucking good.” He groans.

“Chan..” you cry out, your head thrown back, eyes closed, while you ride him.

You feel him move, his cold hand grabs your haw, forcing your face towards his.

“You look at me while you're moaning my name.” He groans. He leans forward, placing his tongue between your breasts, licking up your chest, moving up your neck and to your jaw. He smirks as he grabs the back of your head, colliding his lips with yours. He harshly thrusts his tongue into your mouth, kissing you so hard.

Chan breaks the kiss, moving his hands under your thighs. He lifts you up just enough so he can move, slamming you down onto the mattress, his cock still inside you. You turn your head, crying out as he rams his cock into you, his large hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing.

“Look at me.” He moans. You can't hear him, you're in your own little blissful world.

He grabs your jaw once again, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes open, staring at the man fucking you hard, but not as hard as you know he can go.

“Open your fucking mouth.” He spits, his eyes moving from your face to your mouth, to your tits and back up to your mouth. You stare at him as he rams his cock into you, smirking as you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

Chan leans down slightly letting spit fall from his lips, landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.” He whispers, watching you intently. You put your tongue back in your mouth, smiling as you swallow his saliva, making him moan louder and fuck you harder.

“So fucking hot.” He groans, holding your legs above your head. He places his thumb on your clit, rubbing fast, wanting you to cum one more time for him.

You're screaming out as he rubs and fucks you, your pussy tightening around his cock until you cum again, covering his cock in your juices. Chan holds tightly to your ankles, his own orgasm just seconds away. A few more thrusts he cums, spilling his seed deep inside of you, breathing heavily as he slowly thrusts, milking himself of everything he has.

Chan pulls out of you, smiling widely as he walks naked to your bathroom, turning on the shower for you before he comes back to help you out of the bed. As you shower and clean yourself up, Chan puts his boxers back on, crawling into your bed to wait for you. You come out in your shirt again, making him frown.

“You better have panties on this time.” He murmurs.

“No promises.” You laugh.

You crawl into bed beside him, snuggling up to him. While you felt satisfied and exhausted you couldn't help but feel the anger bubbling up again and you were getting tired of it. Chan must have sensed it, he pulls you in closer to him.

“We'll get it figured out, okay?” He whispers. You nod your head, your eyes already closed. You really hoped they would.

In the morning you woke up… alone. You looked all around your room and there was no sign of Chan.

“What the fuck?” You mumble, rolling over to sit on the edge of your bed. So he fucks you, and then leaves in the morning? You knew it was a little irrational to be this angry about it but was it really so hard to stay until you fucking woke up? Honestly, the audacity of some fucking men. You stood up, not caring you were only wearing a shirt and no underwear. You ripped your door open, stomping down the stairs. You could hear whispers coming from the living room and they stopped as soon as you entered the room.

“Good morning.” They all smiled at you. Except Chan.

“You!” You yell, pointing at him.

“Y/N.” He starts.

“Don't y/n me! What the fuck?” You snap.

“Remember how I told you we'd get it figured out?” He asks.

You drop your arm. “Yeah.”

“Well we figured it out.” He sighs.

“And?”

“And we've got a problem.”

[If you enjoy my stories and would like to help me be able to keep writing, please consider commissioning a story or donating. It would help me out tremendously. You can buy me a coffee. Thank you, I love you all.]

[tinyproprodigy]

"Look at me..." Student!Gojo x Stoic Special Grade 1 Sorcerer reader (NB)

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

1. The First Meeting:

It starts when Gojo first sees you in a meeting with Masamichi Yaga in a secluded area of Jujutsu High. His curiosity piques when he sees a sorcerer of your caliber—one not affiliated with the school (though the age of most of the students, almost passing off as one)—exuding a quiet but undeniable power. You’re calm, reserved, and composed, completely different from Gojo's usual playful energy, which only intrigues him more. You barely acknowledge his presence, and that just makes him want to know more about you.

2. Subtle Beginnings:

At first, Gojo tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. But his friends, Geto and Shoko, start noticing him lingering around Yaga’s office, waiting for you to show up. Geto raises an eyebrow, smirking, while Shoko simply observes, knowing that Gojo’s “harmless” infatuation could lead to something more amusing than he realizes.

3. Uninvited Encounters:

Gojo doesn’t let the cold indifference you show him get to him. He begins “accidentally” crossing your path more frequently—usually in the hallways, by the cafeteria, or even outside near the gates. His usual cocky attitude doesn’t faze you, but Gojo can’t help but find it amusing that he’s the one trying to make you notice him, rather than the other way around.

4. The Playful Approach:

He gets more daring in his attempts to get your attention. Sometimes he’ll crack jokes or give you those dramatic, over-the-top greetings like “Oh! It’s you, the mysterious Special Grade 1 Sorcerer! I must be blessed by fate to see you again!” His friends often exchange glances, silently debating whether or not they should step in and save him. But they know Gojo’s persistence won’t back down, even if you don’t respond.

5. The Silent Challenge:

You remain indifferent, your cold demeanor not wavering. But Gojo’s efforts only grow. One day, he takes it a step further and challenges you to a friendly sparring match. He’s hoping that perhaps you’ll let down your guard a bit during the fight, but you're completely stoic, not even flinching when he pushes you to your limits. He gets an adrenaline rush from the fact that you won’t react to him, which makes him want to break through your walls even more.

6. Getting Noticed (Finally!!):

One day, after a particularly challenging mission, Gojo catches a glimpse of you talking to Yaga. There’s a moment where you give him a short, almost imperceptible soft glance, and for the first time, Gojo’s heart skips a beat. He can’t be sure if it’s just a casual look, but to him, it’s everything. He smirks to himself, knowing he’s finally started to get under your skin, even if it’s just a little.

7. Getting Closer:

There’s an unexpected warmth in the way Gojo treats you now. He might still joke around, but there’s an underlying tenderness in his words when he speaks to you. He’s no longer trying to force an interaction but rather seeks you out when he senses that you might need assistance. Whether it's with a cursed object, a piece of advice, or just an awkward silence between the two of you, Gojo gradually becomes more attuned to your needs.

8. Observing in Silence:

Geto and Shoko are the first to realize Gojo’s interest.

“He’s been unusually quiet,” Shoko says, watching as Gojo stares out the window, clearly lost in thought. “Bet he’s thinking about that Special Grade sorcerer.”

“Oh, you mean the one who looks like they’d rather fight a cursed spirit than talk to him?” Geto teases.

Gojo denies it, of course. “What? No! I’m just intrigued. They’re so mysterious, you know?"

Shoko and Geto begin to notice the subtle shifts in Gojo’s behavior. He's no longer his usual cocky self, especially when it comes to you. His attempts to make you laugh or get a reaction from you have become more genuine. Even though you stay cold and composed, Gojo begins to understand the weight behind your stoicism—perhaps a deep well of unspoken emotions or the weight of your responsibilities as a Special Grade 1 sorcerer. It doesn’t deter him; if anything, it draws him closer.

9. Quiet Moments:

The real breakthrough comes during a rare, quiet moment after a mission. The two of you are sitting side by side in an empty room, the silence comfortable for the first time. Gojo speaks gently, not in his usual teasing tone but with sincerity. “You know, you’re the only person who can actually make me shut up for five minutes,” he says, giving you a playful smirk. This time, though, you glance at him—just for a second—and he feels a flicker of something more between you.

10. Unspoken Understanding:

By now, Gojo has become almost hopelessly infatuated with you, in a way that’s different from his usual flirty nature. He doesn’t need you to fall for him right away, but he enjoys the challenge and the quiet moments he shares with you. He loves that you’re someone who doesn’t simply melt at his charms but rather makes him work for your attention. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a spark of something in your gaze every time he teases you—something he plans to explore, no matter how long it takes.

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

Hope you enjoyed!!! I liked the idea of strictly focusing on Gojo’s pov like how crushes are in real life. It's difficult to gage people's minds and thoughts of you when u often think about the so much and the less you know, the more they draw you in and cooler they are! For all he knows the reader wasn't so indifferent from the start. That's power of POV for you. Like and repost!! My account is practically dead *sympathy wanting sobs intensify* also will be doing a Geto and Shoko ver tomorrow!!!

And now for the serious stuff (˶º⤙º˶)

© property of @tinyproprodigy . please don't claim, copynpaste or translate my work on this and / or any other platforms.

[foundtherightwords]

Fallen Empires - Chapter 9

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60533293/chapters/158509354

Chapter 9

The next morning, Daphne came back from her chores to find Romulus sitting at the table, all dressed up in his old cloak and belt, with his dagger in its sheath dangling from his belt. She looked at him askance, still stung from the previous night. It had started out so well—when she returned from the village, she could tell he'd been waiting for her, and she'd wanted to tease him a little, to see if he had truly missed her. Perhaps she'd gone too far. But then he had made her blood boil, and this time not in a good way. First, he'd had the audacity to order her about in the bedroom—though she didn't particularly object to the act he'd proposed, it was his tone that insulted her. And then, after she'd overlooked that first offense and stirred from her sleep to help him out of his nightmare, he'd kicked her out of the room. Her room! Ingrate fool! She could tolerate some male arrogance, but she had her limit.

"Going somewhere?" she asked coldly.

He avoided her eyes. "Yes. I think it's time I rejoin my legion." His voice was polite but flat.

Daphne's heart stumbled, as if his words had just grazed it like a knife. The day before, down in the village, she'd heard about a big battle going on in the Parthian city of Nisibis, not far from the border. Everybody had been talking about it, saying it would decide the war. She had sat with her mother and Mikkos, praying for Attikos and other men from the village, who were no doubt fighting in it at this very moment. Upon returning to the hut, it had been on the tip of her tongue to tell Romulus about the battle, but she'd stopped herself. She was afraid that if she'd told him, he would've left immediately to join his fellow soldiers. As angry as she was with him, she didn't want him to go. Not yet.

Had he heard something after all? But that was impossible. How could he have, stuck up here with no one for company except the goats? So why did he want to leave? Was it because of what had happened between them? Did he regret sleeping with her? Was he married after all and now regretting his infidelity? Or perhaps he simply didn't want to stay with a woman who had threatened to kill him. She hadn't really meant it, of course she hadn't. It was only because he'd made her so mad... Oh, why had she let her temper get the better of her?

She put the jug of fresh goat's milk down on the table and turned to the larder, bringing out bread and cheese and olive, moving slowly so she would have time to compose herself. "You wish to go to Edessa?" she said.

"Yes."

She didn't want to tell him that the army was no longer in Edessa. "But you're not—"

"I know I'm not well enough!" he snapped, reverting to his old irascible self. Then he took a breath, and continued in the same flat voice as before, like he was trying to distance himself from her. "You mentioned that there's a town a couple of days from here," he said, "where I can get passage to Edessa."

"You mean Adala?"

He nodded. "Adala, yes."

She finished setting out breakfast. "And when do you wish to leave?"

"As soon as I can. I'm well enough for a two days' walk, surely?"

"Yes." She found herself mimicking his tone and grimaced in annoyance.

He got to his feet. "Right. Prepare some food for me then." His old commanding voice was back, and she glared at him. He must have realized how he sounded, for he corrected himself, "I mean, if you could spare some food and point me in the right direction, I'll get out of your hair. I've imposed upon your hospitality for long enough." He'd never spoken to her so courteously, so coldly. She wished he would shout and whine and complain as he had before. It would be a hundred times preferable to this polite stranger.

But there was no point in clinging to him any longer. He was never going to stay. This was bound to happen sooner or later. It would be better if he left now, before she became too used to his presence.

She sighed, thinking of the long summer days ahead, when she would be alone again. Despite the heat, she would sit outside with Midas and the goats, just to feel the presence of some living things other than herself, or go into the garden and put her ears to the beehives, listening to their gentle buzzing, just to hear something other than her own thoughts rattling inside her head. She would miss him, miss this strange, infuriating man...

Then an idea occurred to her.

"Perhaps I should go with you," she said slowly. Her mind was telling her this was not a good idea. Better to cut off the wounded limb and make a clean break, than to draw out the agony. But her heart was saying otherwise. "I have to visit the apothecary in Adala anyway," she explained, "to trade for a few things and restock my shelves."

Romulus looked at her, considering the option. She thought she could see the conflict in her heart reflected in his face, as the desire to spend more time together waged war with the fear of a prolonged goodbye. "Very well," eventually he said, in that same stiffly polite tone. "I would welcome your company."

"Then give me some time to pack," she said, trying not to sound too excited. "And you don't want to travel under this sun. It's better if we leave in the evening. It will be cooler then, and you can stay hidden."

It was clear that he had not thought about the danger of being discovered. He nodded and took off his belt and his cloak.

For the rest of the day, Daphne busied herself going through the various jars and bottles and packets of herbs, taking stock of how much she had, what she could use to barter, what was running low. She had to admit that labeling the jars had been a big help. It helped, too, to have Romulus's assistance as he wrote down her inventory on the wax tablet. For a while, the easy companionship between them felt like the old days again, and Daphne managed not to think too much about the imminent departure. She also remembered to bring Amalthea and her kids to Ione, who was most eager to watch the animals while Daphne was away.

They descended the hill as a waxing moon rose over the rock cliffs. With Midas's bridle in her hand, Daphne led them around the village instead of through it. She knew that on a cool, moonlit night like this, the villagers would be out in droves, sitting on their doorsteps, the women weaving, the men fixing their tools, all sharing drinks and gossip, and this detour was the only way to avoid detection. Once out of the village, they followed the stream as it wound its way through the valley to meet the Balikh. The water was low and sluggish this time of year, but the soft murmur of the current was enough to mask the sound of their footsteps.

"You all right?" she asked Romulus, when they were deep in the valley. "Would you like to ride Midas? Or should we stop for a rest?" She had heard him wheezing behind her for a while, but didn't want to stop before they were far enough from the village.

"I'm fine" was all he said. She looked back at him. His face was gray in the pale light of the moon, his dark eyes were enormous, and he was breathing heavily.

"No, you're not fine," she said, putting Midas to a halt and moving some of the saddlebags of herbs aside. "Get on."

Romulus glanced at the donkey and made a face. "No."

Daphne sighed, exasperated. Such ridiculous creatures, men. "I'm sorry I don't have a war elephant for you," she said. "Get on. I'll not have you collapse on me again."

He looked at Midas once more, before apparently deciding that his comfort was worth more than his dignity, and climbed on the saddle. Daphne suppressed a triumphant grin as she took up the bridle and walked on.

They walked through the night, under the silver moon. After it set, they pushed on for a while longer, until the sky brightened into a pinkish gray and a strip of gold appeared on the eastern horizon. The sun rose rapidly, spreading light and heat across the valley. Eventually, when the heat became too much, Daphne drew them to a stop under a bank of willow trees by the stream and made camp. Romulus looked up and down the bank warily, but after she assured him that they would be perfectly safe, he sat down next to her, with his back against a willow. They ate some of the bread and cheese Daphne had brought along. Then, shielded from the hot sun by the sweeping willow branches above and cooled by the gentle flowing of the stream beside them, they slept.

The sun had dipped behind the hills again, but it was still light, by the time Daphne woke. Romulus was no longer lying near the willow tree across from her, and she bolted up, afraid that he might have slipped away while she slept. But no, he was still there, sitting a little further down the bank. He was trying to shave with his dagger and making a mess of it.

"Need a hand?" Daphne said.

He jumped. "Hades!" he cursed as the dagger clattered to the ground. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"No, but you may cut your own throat if you try to shave with that meat cleaver." She pulled her own little knife from her belt and sharpened it with a stone from the riverbank, before handing it to him. "Here, try this."

He took the knife from her and tried again. One scrape, and he threw it to the ground as well. "I've never done this before," he said, sounding both frustrated and embarrassed. "There were always barbers..." He glanced at Daphne. "Can you do it?"

Daphne hesitated. "But I've never shaved anyone before," she said. "Well, I did, once. My husband. The morning he left to join the army." It had been the last time she saw him.

Romulus shrugged. "It's not hard. I'm sure you can do a better job than I."

"You trust me?"

She only meant to ask if he trusted her not to make a mess of his face, but a hesitant look came into his eyes, and Daphne remembered that she'd threatened to kill him just the night before. Of course he wouldn't trust her.

She handed him the knife. "It's best that you do it," she said.

The look in his eyes changed inscrutably as he looked from the knife to her and back again. Then, reaching out his hand, he pushed the knife back toward her and raised his chin expectantly.

Crouching down in front of Romulus, Daphne started to scrape the knife across his jaw. A small whimper escaped his throat. She jumped back, holding the knife aloft. "That hurt?"

"It's fine." He cleared his throat. "But usually the barber would put some kind of oil in my beard first, to soften it."

"Why didn't you say so?"

Daphne dug through her supplies and found a jar of almond oil, which she rubbed into his beard. The pulse just below his jaw beat wildly under her hand, and when she happened to lift her eyes to his face, the look he gave her made her own heart thump along with his. How she longed to kiss him there, on his jaw, to feel that pulse and his warm, smooth skin beneath her lips... But he would probably push her away again, and she was not willing to repeat that exercise in humiliation. She put the knife back to his beard. He was right. With the oil, the knife glided over the hair much more smoothly and easily.

"Is that better?" she asked. Romulus nodded once and sat still, as if afraid any movement would cause her hand to slip. "Relax," she said. "I won't nick you. I promise."

"I'd rather you promise not to gut me like a fish," he said.

She glared at him, but his tone was light, and something like a wry smile was lifting the corner of his mouth. She felt her cheeks grow hot. "Don't test me," she warned, trying to put on her sternest face.

His teasing smile grew, and for a moment he looked once more like the man who had taught her to read, the one who had helped her after her father's disastrous visit, the one who had held her hand when she told him about her husband. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said.

His breathing calmed after that, yet her own remained ragged as if she'd just made an uphill climb, and she couldn't help noticing the heat between them. She forced herself to concentrate. Scrape, scrape, scrape. The hair fell away under the blade, slowly. They were breathing the same air, their bodies feeling the same heat, separated only by two thin layers of linen. She wanted to hit him and then kiss him, and then hit him again, for making her feel this way. But she did nothing, only reminding herself that he would soon be gone. Scrape, scrape, scrape.

Once his jaw was clean, Daphne moved on to his mouth, trying not to notice the feel of his lips between her fingers. Then she leaned back to survey her handiwork.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Very well."

In truth, her shaving was rough, and there were uneven patches here and there along his jaw where she hadn't gotten all the hair. But, freed from his scowl, and with his curls getting longer and falling over his forehead, the face that emerged from under the beard was sweeter, almost boyishly handsome. She cleaned the oil off with the end of her stole and flicked away the little hairs that stuck to his skin, her fingers lingering over his now-smooth cheeks. He tilted his head, pressing his face into her hand, his dark eyes gazing into hers. Daphne's heart jumped. She knew that look. He'd looked at her the same way the other night—had it only been two days ago?

It was on her lips to ask him to stay, to keep this touch, this fire between them just for a little while, just a little longer... Her thumb brushed across his mouth, and he jolted away as if her finger had been a poisoned arrow.

"We best get a move on," he said, getting to his feet.

The plea for him to stay died in her throat. With a sigh, she stood up as well and began packing their things.

They continued in silence, with only the moon as their constant companion. The next day, they left the valley and the stream behind as the path rose toward a plateau. The willows became shrubs, then the shrubs became tuffs of tired brown grass, before getting swallowed up altogether by the tired brown sand of the plateau. Adala lay on that plateau, a handful of mud-brick houses lining narrow, winding streets, all congregating around a small marketplace. Having neither pastures nor arable land, it made its living as a trading post, where merchant caravans stopped for a change of horses before heading to larger towns, and where farmers and shepherds from surrounding villages brought in their goods to barter and exchange. It was the one place Daphne had learned without her grandmother's guidance—the old woman had never left their village and had seen no need for it, but Daphne had understood early on that she could not make a living if she stayed in their village all her life. Besides, she liked the hustle and bustle of the town, though only in small doses.

They pushed on, not stopping to rest, and came into Adala in the early afternoon. Romulus had jumped off Midas's back as soon as the town came into view. Now he stalked next to her, his head low, the hood of his cloak pulled up to cover his face, and his hand gripping the dagger tightly.

"Stop worrying," Daphne said. "No harm will come to you here."

"You can't be sure of that," he mumbled, his eyes darting left and right. It wasn't a market day, so the town wasn't particularly busy, but that only made the two of them stand out more. Eyes were turning their way, with curiosity that would soon turn into suspicion, Daphne knew.

"If you're trying to appear suspicious and draw attention to yourself, then you're doing an excellent job," she said drily.

He straightened up and pushed the hood off, looking slightly abashed. After that, he walked more normally, though he still kept a hand on the hilt of the dagger.

They walked past the marketplace under the shadow of a temple of Zeus and turned into a side street. Unlike the rest of the sleepy town, it was crowded here, as the townspeople flocked to The Lynx's Head for their drinks, snacks, and daily gossip. Part tavern, part inn, part gambling den, it was the true center of Adala, much more than the marketplace and the temple ever were.

Daphne stopped a little further down the lane and nodded at the tavern. "There you are," she said. "Go inside and ask Eukleis at the bar if she knows of anyone going to Edessa. You'll get passage in no time."

Romulus glanced at the crowd gathering outside The Lynx's Head, looking uncertain, but said nothing. He still said nothing when Daphne handed him a little pack containing a change of clothes, a wineskin, some food, and a small vial of poppy juice, in case his wounds still bothered him.

"Well," she concluded. Her voice shook a little, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound cheerful. "I must hurry before the apothecary closes for the day. I guess this is goodbye."

Romulus opened his mouth, but no words came. He kept gazing at her, with a beseeching look in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. She waited. Ten, fifteen, twenty heartbeats passed. He still didn't say anything. His hand moved at his side, but he didn't reach out for her.

"May the gods watch over you on your journey," Daphne said. Then she pulled her stole over her head and led Midas away.

"Daphne?" Romulus called after her.

She spun back so quickly that she hated herself for it. "Yes?" she said, hope flickering painfully in her heart.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "And may the gods watch over you as well," he added, almost as an afterthought.

There was a pang in her chest that might have been heartache, or it might have been mere disappointment. She nodded at him and walked down the street without another look back.

Taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92, @justnobodynothingmore, @barcelonaloverf1life, @myotakureprieve, @flawssy-227, @itsrainingbisexualfrogs, @deliciousfestsalad (if you want to be tagged or removed, let me know!)

[bitchesgetriches]

I'm not sure if this is really something you can help with or not. I've been following you guys for years and I love what you do so I thought I would give it a try! I recently got my masters in school counseling and now I'm job searching. I have been for 8 months with no luck. Every time I get told that I don't have enough experience. To even get my degree I needed a year long internship, much like student teaching. For a while I thought that it probably had something to do with my age too since I'm 27 and look very young (short and baby faced). A few days ago I was told that I was passed over for a job and they told me that while they liked me, they didn't pick me because I didn't have enough experience and they also worried that I didn't have enough "life experience," which I take to mean they think I'm too young. This keeps happening, my student loans can't really be in forbearance any longer, and I just don't know what I can do.

Sweet pea I am SO sorry you're going through this nonsense. It's not fair and I hope they all bang their shins on the corners of furniture for treating you this way.

Here's some advice on what you can do to get your job search out of this rut:

Our Best Secrets for a Successful, Strategic, and SHORT Job Search 

How to Frame Volunteering on Your Resume When You’ve Never Had a Job 

Ask the Bitches: What the Hell Else Can I Do To Get a Job? 

Season 3, Episode 11: "People Treat Me Like a Child Because I’m Femme. How Do I Command the Respect I Deserve?"

Did we just help you out? Say thanks on Patreon!

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' DANCE WITH ME? ,,

|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warning: hurt/comfort, good ending chat trust

|| word count: 1.1k

|| happy new years guys 🩵

You and Keigo had been married for a year. You knew exactly what you signed up for the moment you started dating, he was very clear about how his job was.. Well, busy. And how it kept HIM busy. You understood this and welcomed it, honestly you liked the alone time you got. There had been times you two have fought about this, but only once or twice. Despite fighting less, your worry grew the more attached you got with Keigo. The more you fell for Keigo.

Today was.. Harsh. You woke up alone in bed, per usual, the place you go to for your coffee was closed because of a villain attack on it, and you were late to work. Because of, guess what! A villain. Your boss was on your ass about, you forget half of what he yelled at you about, it was fine, all of that was small cracks in a glass cup that was overflowing with water. What thr final blow was?

Youe beloved husband, Keigo.

You had planned a date together. You'd been planning this date for a week or so. The SECOND you clocked out of work you rushed home and put on your best clothes! Matching it with a bag Keigo had bought you and of course, your wedding band.

By this time it had been 7:00 PM. Your date was for 8:00 PM! Alright, Keigo had an hour to get ready if he got here.. Soon.

But, as you watched the minutes go by, constantly checking for a call, a text!.. Keigo was no where to be seen. Once it turned 8:20 PM, it had been to late, your reservation was too late and you couldn't go. And honestly? You didn't wanna go out anymore. You just sat on the couch, scrolling on your phone, still in your date night outfit as you heard familiar flapping on the balcony.

Keigo! 20 minutes late, to arriving TO the resturaunt.

"Babe, I'm so sorry-"

You put a hand up as you stood up and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Your brows furrowed as you looked him up and down. You looked over him, he seemed a bit disheveled, some scratches but nothing too bad.

"You're late, Kei"

He stood there, his lips pressed in a thin line as he looked at you. He didn't have anything to say. His wings ruffled behind him as the blone man let out a tired sigh.

"I'm sorry, love. I promise I tried to leave patrol early, but the commission called me in for a meeting right after patrol ended. It was a whole debrief and-"

Keigo was rambling again. He often did this when you were upset with him, or if he was upset at himself. Your gaze softened as you listened to him. He had a harsh day too. Did it excuse his actions? No, not at all, you're his beloved spouse. He should've been there. He knows it.

Which is why it shocked him when you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him.

".. You'll have to make it up to me."

You said softly. This could've been the BEST time to make a teerible innuendo, but instead Keigo let out a shakey breath and hid his face into the crook of your neck. Giving a small nod to your comment.

"I'll make dinner, I'll- I'll make whatever you want, or order in whatever you want,"

You shook your head with a small laugh. You pulled away from him and took out your phone. He watched in confusion as you tapped your fingers against the screen... What the hell were you doing? He got even more confused as when you started playing a song.. THE song. The song that played at your wedding.

You slowly placed your phone on the coffee table as you slowly walked back to him.

"You stood me up. I'm upset at you,"

That stung his heart, but he understood. He stood there, listening to you talk.

"You'll need to make it up to me," Keigo nodded. ".. So. To make it up to me by a little,"

You extended your hand out. The moonlight coming out from the glass and hitting your skin just right. Keigo looked you up and down, in awe of how.. Gorgeous his spouse was.

"Dance with me?"

Keigo's breath hitched as those words left your mouth.. He took a few steps close to you and placed his hand into yours, moving around to get into dancing position. Just like your wedding.

The two of you danced to the music, nothing but the music and your steps filling in the silence. As if none of you dared to even breathe. But it was okay.. If you closed your eyes it could be like your wedding day all over again. The most stressful, the most tear filled, and the best day of both of your lives. It was exactly like you had imagined.

Once the song ended Keigo leaned into you, hiding his face on your shoulder. His wingd drooping down as he held you close.

"I'm so sorry, my love."

"I know."

You stroked his hair softly as he just held you close. He knew you had every right to be upset. He knew he could've done better, this had happened before. Keigo felt terrible. You had been so patient with him, so good to him. He didn't feel like he deserved it, but you always assured he did.

"I'm so sorry,"

He repeated himself as you held him close. God, you hated hearing him this.. Sad.

"I've been terrible.. I'm sorry.. I've been a bad husband to you."

You pulled his face away from your shoulder and stroked his cheek with your thumb. A small smile on your face as you looked over his features.

"At least you're self-aware"

You had a small smirk on your face as you said that. Ah, teasing.

"I try to be."

He let out a small chuckle as he gently pushed his lips against yours. That night, you assured him he wasn't a bad husband, that he wasn't a bad anything. He needed your reassurance a lot, and no matter how upset you were with him, you'd lend it. Afterall, he was always there for you, it was the least you could do.

Of course, Keigo still made it up to you, taking you on an extravagant date and pampering you at anytime. Hell, he didn't even let you brush your teeth by yourself. He was such a dork, but you loved him.

And god, does he love you.

|| God, this is lowkey rlly badly written but yk

[writingwithciara]

pure innocence -chris sturniolo-

summary: chris finds himself constantly dreaming about his best friend. his very innocent best friend, or so he thought

word count: 2.2k

pairing: chris sturniolo x best friend!reader; a brief moment of matt sturniolo x reader

notes: i'm still a matt girl but chris is so adorable. sorry if some things repeat. tumblr keeps deleting the start of my fics and replacing the first paragraph with a duplicate. it's crazy. w: suggestive content, onlyfans

masterlist

chris watched from across the pool as matt held y/n up on his shoulders. they were in the middle of a game of chicken against nick and madi.

the longer he watched, the harder it was getting for him.

it was his fault though. she had asked for him to be her partner but he declined the offer and matt volunteered instead.

matt’s grip tightened as y/n and madi kept trying to knock each other down. y/n struggled but managed to make nick stumble back a little. she looked down at matt and he nodded in approval as she reached out and pushed madi off nick’s shoulders.

matt’s grip tightened as y/n and madi kept trying to knock each other down. y/n struggled but managed to make nick stumble back a little. she looked down at matt and he nodded in approval as she reached out and pushed madi off nick’s shoulders.

“we are undefeated!” she cheered as matt helped her get off his shoulder. she hugged him and chris noticed the emotion going into it. he couldn’t take it anymore.

he stood up quickly and headed for the back door.

“where you going chris?”

“bathroom.” he lied and before y/n could respond, he was disappearing into the house. y/n turned to matt.

“that was weird, right?”

“totally weird.” he shook his head. “who’s up for another round of chicken?”

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

chris had been lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling in his bedroom when there was a soft knock. he didn't even have to ask who it was, instantly remembering the knock pattern they had created when they were 8.

she poked her head in a few seconds later and chris sat up as she approached him.

"what was up with you earlier?"

"don't know what you're talking about." he tried to ignore it but he knew he wouldn't be getting away with it.

"out at the pool a few hours ago, you were acting weird. why?"

"wanna talk about weird? let's talk about how touchy you and matt were getting out there."

"we...we were playing chicken. and you could've been my partner but you refused. that's on you."

"after you guys won, you got a little too close. it was weird. there's clearly something going on between you. you guys have got to be hooking up."

"we are not hooking up. we hugged. that's it. why are you so annoyed by it?"

"because matt has feelings for you. isn't it obvious?"

"you're being ridiculous, christopher." y/n scoffed and shook her head. "matt doesn't have feelings for me and even if he did, what business is it of yours, hmm?"

"he told me he liked you. so before you go calling me ridiculous for telling you, maybe you should think a little."

"whatever, chris." y/n turned and grabbed the door knob. "when you're done being weird, you know where i'll be."

before chris could respond, y/n was gone. he collapsed back on his bed and sighed.

this was not how things were supposed to pan out for him.

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

after the day in the pool, madi and nick retreated to nick's room while y/n & matt went to his room to play video games.

"is it just me or has chris been acting really weird today?" matt was the first to speak.

"he has. and not just today either. for the past week at least." y/n sighed.

"you talked to him earlier. did he say anything?"

"he said it was weird how close you and i were getting in the pool today."

"okay he's being ridiculous." matt paused the game and looked at y/n. "why does he even care how close we got today?"

"i don't know. he didn't divulge that information to me." y/n played with her bracelet. "the only other thing he told me was that you had a crush on me. i don't believe that at all though."

“no. that’s definitely not true. you’re like a sister to me and i wouldn’t be stupid enough to jeopardize that by discovering feelings for you.” matt smiled. “chris is just being an idiot.”

“he really makes this feelings thing so hard.”

“oh my god. you like chris? since when?”

“uh......since senior prom.” y/n sighed. “dylan dumped me before the dance so i was home alone when chris showed up. he had ditched his own date to make sure i was okay. he brought over snacks and my comfort movie and i realized at that moment that i loved him.”

“wait, he ditched daniella? he had been in love with her since 7th grade & the fact he gave up a night with her to check on you should say something.”

“what are you hinting at, matthew?”

“i’m saying that i think chris has feelings for you.” matt smirked while y/n groaned and slide her hands down her face. “that’s adorable.”

“if that was true, then why won’t he just come out and say it?”

“because, as we established earlier, chris is an idiot.”

"while that is true, i really don't think he likes me that way."

"fine. don't believe me. but when am i ever wrong?" matt resumed his game, leaving y/n to think about what he said.

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

sometime after midnight, everyone was asleep. except for chris, who had woken up from a rather weird dream. it wasn't odd that he was dreaming about y/n. it had been happening for quite sometime now.

the weird part of his dream was that someone anonymously sent him a link to a video of his very innocent best friend. he didn't want to click on it but his curiosity got the best of him and he ended up opening the video. it was basically a sex tape. of her and matt. posted to her onlyfans page.

chris shook the thought out of his head and grabbed his phone. he had to check to see if she even had a page.

he created a fake account just to find out if she had one. and when he searched her name, it didn't come up. he was relieved but something on the screen caught his attention.

under the 'similar creators' section, he saw a profile picture where the girl in the picture had the same birthmark on her stomach that y/n had.

so naturally, he clicked on the profile just to check. when he saw her name across the top of the page, he nearly dropped his phone.

he sat up in bed and hovered over the subscribe button, hesitating. he didn't know if he wanted to see the videos. it would ruin the innocence of his best friend. but the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was never as innocent as she pretended to be. and that thought was what motivated him to hit the subscribe button.

as he scrolled through the content, chris knew it was wrong. but he paid for the videos so he should get to see them, right?

one video in particular caught his eye.

he caught a glimpse of someone with his arm covered in tattoos in the thumbnail and his mind immediately thought about matt.

"oh please tell me my dream wasn't true." chris rubbed his eyes and hit play. as it played, he knew he was screwed. his best friend had really created a video with his brother and everything about it bothered him. "how could she choose matt when i'm the one who loves her?"

it was no longer a dream and was a harsh reality that chris would have to face soon.

he put his phone back on the charger and closed his eyes. maybe he could forget all about the video if he forced himself to dream.

but that didn't work. the second his eyes were closed, all he could see were images of y/n and matt.

"screw this." he threw the blanket off his body and walked upstairs to the kitchen. he wasn't expecting to see y/n standing at the counter with a bowl of cereal in her hand. the spoon was halfway to her mouth when she noticed chris.

"what are you doing up? have you finally decided to apologize for earlier?"

"what do you mean?" chris looked at her oddly. he truly had no idea what she was talking about. as far as he was concerned, she was the one who should be apologizing. "you should be apologizing."

"me? what for?"

"you lied to me earlier."

"when did i do that?"

"when you told me you and matt weren't hooking up."

"we're not." y/n rolled her eyes. "why would you think that?"

"i found your onlyfans page."

"w-what? i have no idea what you're talking about."

"don't play dumb with me. i found your page and saw a video with you and matt. how could you lie to me?"

"it was a one time thing. hasn't happened in months. therefore, i was not lying when you asked me if i was hooking up with matt. if you had asked me if we had hooked up and i said no, that would've been lying."

"whatever. same shit." chris looked at her. "why did you choose matt?"

"oh, chrissy." y/n set her cereal down and stepped closer. "you sound a little jealous."

"s-so what if i am?" chris took a second to look at her.

"awe, baby." y/n could sense a slight nervousness to chris' words. "if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask."

and before chris could respond, y/n had disappeared into matt's room.

he needed her.

he wanted her.

but he had absolutely no idea how to go about getting her. even though she just told him all he had to do was ask, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

he wanted to keep the untainted image of his best friend as long as possible. sure it had been destroyed but chris' brain was working overtime to put her innocence back together. there was no way he wanted to imagine her as anything other than his sweet, innocent best friend.

chris went back to his room and tried to fall back asleep but he struggled. once again, every time he closed his eyes, he would picture her. and each time, she was naked. but he tried to blur out the parts he didn't want to see.

it worked at first but the longer his eyes were closed, the more her body was revealed to him.

until he couldn't handle it anymore.

he sent a simple text to y/n

i want you

and waited.

y/n replied with a voice message. her voice came out as a whisper.

about time you finally admitted it. was getting tired of thinking of you every time i went solo. but if you really want me, then maybe i should come down to your room and have you prove it to me. how's that sound, christopher owen?

there was something about the way she said his name that made him feel like he was about to lose his mind. he sent a text back telling her to hurry up and it was as if she had read his mind because as soon as he sent it, y/n was walking into his room. he sat up quickly and turned on his light.

"jesus, you're perfect."

"tell me something i don't know, chris." y/n giggled and hopped onto his bed. she stared at him for what seemed like forever before she climbed into his lap. she couldn't contain the smirk as she asked him a question she already knew the answer to. "so, you really want me, huh?"

"yeah. of course i do. i'd be lying if i said i didn't."

"is it because you saw my onlyfans page? or something else?"

"i've wanted you for a really long time. think that's why i was so upset about you and matt earlier. and i apologize for reacting that way."

"no need to apologize. matt and i are just friends. always have been and always will be." she looked into his darkened blue eyes. "we only made the video because we were bored and wanted to get the 'virgin' shit done and over with. so trust me when i say that there are absolutely no feelings for matt." she placed her hand against his cheek and smiled. "it's always been you, christopher owen."

chris wasted no more time. he grabbed her hips and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. one that grew real intense, real fast. y/n tugged on his lip with her teeth, causing a low groan to fall from chris' mouth.

"that was hot." y/n smirked and started laughing when chris flipped them around. one hand remained on her waist while the other landed beside her head. "you finally going to show me how much you want me?

"in due time. just want to take a moment to capture this image in my mind where it'll stay forever."

"i like the sound of that." y/n smirked. "but we both know this is going to happen many, many many more times."

"and i like the sound of that." chris kissed y/n's lips first. and then her neck. followed by her shoulder and her collarbone. he kissed whatever part of her body he could see. to him, she tasted sweet.

and to her, his lips felt like heaven.

chris was about to shatter his perfect vision of his innocent best friend. but he didn't care and neither did she.

there was no place else either of them wanted to be than with each other in that moment.

[doublel27]

I heasitate to do anything that will give this incredibly toxic, bullying tantrum of a post more views, but I also don't think this is okay and people should say so.

It is not an essay, it is a lambasting of someone who disagrees not with just you, but the general discourse that exists around some shows in the BL world because there were over 8 different people's ideas referenced in that post and you focused on you and @lurkingshan. Spending the time to type in 30 tags in the actual post, and another 5 in the comments lambasting someone, offering to pass to anyone screenshots of DMs, utilzing different sizes of script for emphasis that is considered yelling in the written word, and encouraging others to discuss how toxic they are and then demand your boundaries are that they don't respond after flooding someone else's inbox is very rude and inappropriate. I want to applaud @technicallyverycowboy and @lugarn who I have never spoken to before for also calling it out.

I would like to start by saying it's very clear you're incredibly upset and chose to yell at a person who never mentioned you that you perceived as attacking you. Your feelings are okay and should be felt, this response is not. Particularly because there is a whole lot of projection and defensiveness in this post, both in acting like MBDL doesn't understand fandom ettiquite, being disingenous about MBDL's actions and claim to be entirely misread and misunderstood, but let's take a look at what you and lurkingshan actually said in that post, what you misrepresented and misunderstood, and what words were used that might have suggested you were acting as an authority and dismissing other perspectives.

While you value being tagged, when Maybe-Boys-Do-Love says not "everyone enjoys being tagged" could be referring to previous interactions MBDL has had with people who asked him not to (I know i've had that or have been asked to DM) or his own personal feelings of not wanting to be tagged. I don't know, you'd have to ask him rather than assume. You feel a way about what you refer to as vague posting, but not everyone feels the way that you do. Some people prefer to not have an @ shoved at them and prefer to see stuff that could be about them and just say that if someone cared about them enough to say something to their face they would, and move about their day. You are deeply upset by other's possbily vaguely referring to your thoughts on tumblr.com and that's a valid feeling. Bullying a person due to your big feelings however, is not acceptable, and the limited number of reblogs from a specific circle of people, shows exactly how unacceptable the overall community finds this stuff.

You can ask people to @ you in posts that refer to yours and link to them. That's how you feel. On your blog. And you don't have to like how other people act on their blog, but that's also THEIR blog. They can behave how they want, just like you do. Perhaps this whole post is the opposite of what someone would want to have happen to them, in the same way MBDL's was the opposite of what you wanted to have happen.

I want to be very clear that I have seen the post that @maybe-boys-do-love made and your response. Your response is still visible to me on the post and I have reblogged the version of the post on my blog where you responded to MBLD and where MBDL responded to you because I value the fullness of the discourse. I can still see it. Anyone who goes to my blog can still see it. I'm very mystified by the fact that you can't see your response when everyone else can, but I think it should be acknowledged publicly that your point about them deleting your response is a lie you could have fact-checked by asking someone outside of your circle. You have not edited this post to reflect that was a mistake on your part and was the crucx of you deciding to stop engaging in conversation with MBDL in the first place.

However, your quick nature to dismiss criticisms of your posts both above, and in other posts, as "you attacking their faves" or "other fans who only watch shows for shipping" is as dismissive and gaslighting as the work you accuse MBDL of. This Nov. 5 post of yours includes the following quote:

ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there.

This dismissal of people who disagree with your definition of good writing and good scripts is the kind of historical conversation and tone from your posts that suggests that you are a critical consumer of content and others who have different opinions are not. Much like you accused MBDL of using "we" to deflect from his own opinion, your use of "us" and "others" repeatedly in that piece gives an us/them perspective. Other is a very othering word, when others is used as a pronoun. Us lets you know you're in the in group, with the taste makers, others lets you know you're not allowed.

From the post that you're concerned was vague-blogged on, which is part of a lager conversation of Spare Me Your Mercy, and Thai writing in general, you said the following:

It seems to me that the fantasies of the fans are worth more, as an investment by GMMTV and other studios in Thailand, than actual artistic material that focuses on queerness at this point. Capitalism and mainstreaming go very well hand-in-hand when there's money to be made, and this, to me, speaks loudly to the excellent points that Shan has made above about really great queer art being anathema to center- and conservative-mainstreams. We're getting less of really great queer art in Thailand, because the dampening of queerness in Thai shows might very well mean more bucks for the studios. Finally, a last point about capitalism that I'd like to make. I've been seeing a rising number of posts and comments taking Tumblr bloggers to task for being critical (like, objectively critical) of bad shows. Many folks don't want to read criticism of their fave shows and stars. I want to note that if one takes this position -- the capitalists have won again. If you're someone who's trying to prevent critical takes from being published, well, you got got by the capitalists -- the studios, the managers who want you to be so in love with your faves that you will ponder asking a writer to censor themselves from making a critical take. You might feel ownership of your blorbo, protective of your favorite star. Those critical takes may feel, to you, like a takedown of your fave.

Again this is highly dismissive and rejects any critism of your takes as people who are just into shipping or faves. Similar to your criticism of the use of the term we in MBDL's post, here you use the term "one" here is short for anyone or everyone. You're claming anyone who disagrees with YOUR version of good writing and good scripts has been "got" by capitalism. (To be fair, I still don't know what your definition of good writing and good scripts are, and I've read all of your posts, as well as Ben's and Shan's and Twig-Tea's. So far I've got a list of common Thai tropes and themes that you don't approve of, and a tonality that is bothersome to you. Which is fair that you don't like it, but you catagorize those as bad and others as good.) Some people enjoyed the shows you didn't, and that's fine. Some of it they thought the scripts were good. Some of it they thought they weren't but enjoyed it anyway. As you stated in the above post this is your opinion and your blog, which is fair. But dismissing people who disagree with you as being got by capitalism and saying things like "ownership of your blorbo" which is to say that that's the only reason someone might like something, or that the only thing that people can like is high art and good scripts is frankly rude. And it's not even like you live up to your own standard. As you stated in the November 5th post:

Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)

We're going to ignore that One31 is also owned by the same corporation as GMMTV here for a second, the money flows to the same overlord. We will also ignore that Jes Jespipat has stated that he wanted to leave Channel 3 for BOC, which his managment team, who is also owned by the same corporation as GMMTV and One31, because he felt BOC was full of like-minded people when it came to quality and production. Those are all easily serchable facts as is the fact that One31 and Channel 3 are mass market channels while GMMTV is a teen/ya market channel.

Those facts aside, I think it's really disingenous to suggest that you as a person are capable of distingishing between good writing and bad writing, because you a person with values, and then sometimes watch bad writing for your love of Ohm Pawat, (and who are we kidding, we all tuned in to Kidnap originally because Ohm Pawat had been returned to us). But the idea that you are capable of this thought, and actively choosing, and the way you stated above that anyone who rebutts your takes "got got by the capitalists" (bold is yours, see above and the post) if they tuned into a show for their faves that you didn't like, or thought was bad, that means they weren't doing the same kind of thinking you did around Kidnap. Or that the only way to distinguish what is good and what isn't is your way.

And the worst part of all of this is, lurkingshan and you, misrepresented the article that interviewed the screen writer, Lux and Sammon, and even @benkaben's essay for your own agenda in the post you're referring to. The exact stuff you're accusing MBDL of doing.

Benkaben's initial post that's also linked in lurnkingshan's post, focuses on the fact that there's a comment in the interview that conflates Shipping, Romance, Fanservice with NC scenes and suggests that it makes a work less serious. For those of you who won't link through to the original article, here's benkaben's words:

And hey, you don't need NC scenes for that! No, sexual intimacy is not the only thing that "proves" a romance exist. I mean heck, you could even go all the way around and have all the NC scenes in the world and still present a story where the characters aren't in love with each other, because sex ≠ romance. Absolutely. But also I'm, really tired™, of this idea that any kind of sex portrayed in media is only going to "taint" the final composition. As If sex and love stories were some dirty stain that automatically made the work lesser: Less serious, less formal, less dramatic. I don't agree with the idea that you have to sacrifice intimacy in order to be taken seriously. I don't agree with the idea that sex is by default, just fanservice and therefore it's portrayal subtracts automatically from the story.

The quote that Benkaben is referring to from the original translation is as follows, just in case you're wondering: (I am not fluent in thai and am trusting the translator understood the majority of what was said)

“Sammon's novels are primarily BL and include numerous love scenes. However, we deliberately chose not to present it as a BL story. While the characters are two men in love, we approached it with a dark drama style. The characters are gay, but we don’t offer fan service in every episode or include NC (explicit) scenes. This has been the plan from the beginning. Our decision to omit NC scenes wasn’t influenced by censorship, airtime, or the actors. It’s because the themes we are addressing are heavy and serious. NC scenes would detract from the story’s focus, which is the dark drama and euthanasia. Some fans of the novel might be disappointed, but we believe there’s other enjoyment to be found in the series, even without NC scenes.

The screenwriter states very clearly and explicitly that this was not censorship, airtime or the actors. It was not for the audience or what you can do on Thai television or giving in to the conservatives as lurkingshan argued. Lux said because the themes they were focusing on were heavy and serious, she felt fanserivce and sex detracted from the concept of euthenasia and dark drama.

In fact, I am going to pull out and highlight this line again:

The characters are gay, but we don’t offer fan service in every episode or include NC (explicit) scenes. This has been the plan from the beginning.

In this way, the screenwriter of Spare Me Your Mercy agrees with your main complaint about Thai BL in general that you spent a solid time going in on, that shows are focused on fan service over storytelling. The decision to remove the NC scenes and anything very romatnic, in the directors view, was to comply with your argument of removing fanservice in favor of storytelling.

Additionally, in this post, which prompted lurkingshan's post, you stated:

And — I believe it was also disingenuous to the two previously adapted Sammon stories of Manner of Death and Triage as well, as both of those dramas were able to hold both mystery and romantic storylines to excellent ends, with wonderful touches of intimacy along the way (MaxTul couch scene, my beloved).

Meanwhile, in the translated interview, that @slayerkitty posted Lux did discuss Sammon's thoughts:

When we spoke with the original author, she was also very supportive of this shift because she also wants to highlight the theme of euthanasia. While she herself is a Sao Y and a writer of BL novels, she understands the adaptation’s focus.

And I was honestly very confused by your post this week adding fan service is the downfall and the cause of censorship (which the director of Spare Me Your Mercy said it was not as stated above), because the director of Spare Me Your Mercy ultimately agreed that shows deserve to have a good script and not be beholden to fanservice. You disagree that his script is good. But that's his argument here.

I was even deeper horrified by this line in lurkingshan's post, which ties back to a previous post of yours:

I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

The overwhelming Western paternalism here that suggests that if something is popular in conservative countries and not in the greater queer world means it's a failure as a queer story...That's the statement there: It's popularity underlines why it was a faiulre as a queer narrative.

I think a lot about Casey McQuiston's work, a queer author in America who was raised in some of the most conservative parts of this country. Their work, specifically I Kissed Shara Wheeler is a love letter to queer folx who grew up in conservative communties who LOVE the communties they were raised in, even if that community couldn't fully love them back. I think a lot about all of the boy loves that were turned into bromances in Korea to make the bottom line so that something like Love in the Big City could get made. I think a lot about the amount of money and capital and power it takes to get a story made that a country doesn't want to get told: Saint mortgaged his house to open an entirely QL production house and make the first major GL in Thailand because no one would finance it, The author and director of Meet Me at the Blossom also put her house, and frankly her freedom, on the line to make that show. Because while we'd like to separate the art from capitalist structures, as long as we are living in a captialist world, we are going to have to find ways to both work within the system and resist it. There's a lot of jokes made about how to keep the serious tone of The Eclipse in it's serious true art vibe of telling a very serious story about the deadly nature of the closet and internalized homophobia, that Vice Versa had to have Lay's rain from the sky, because someone had to bring in the money to the company from advertisments to have The Eclipse have the cleaner vibe.

To quote the post by lurkingshan again:

High quality, well-executed, honest and authentic queer art is more likely to be protested than celebrated in places where real queer people are not safe to live free lives.

What makes queer art high-quality, well-executed, honest and authentic? What makes a place safe to live free lives?

In the US? Pose was a beautiful love letter to the Black and latinx trans community, looking at the history of Ballroom in the US in the 1980s. It was succesful in this country, as much of Ryan Murphy's work is. However, it is not safe for the Black and latinx trans communtiy to live in the United States of America. We've got the anti-trans legislation tracker and the HRC had identified 36 murders of Trans and Non-Binary people as of November 30th 2024, disproportionately Black trans women. They acknowldge this is an incomplete account due to: many deaths often go unreported or misreported, or misgendering of victims leads to delays in their identification. This does not even get into the systematic ways in which the queer community as a whole, but the Black queer community in general, is prevented from accessing key resources like housing and jobs with a livable wage.

The US is not a safe country for queer people to live free lives, not as a whole. I live in a Blue state, and am queer and a married to my queer partner. We are not fully out. We are not fully realized as queer humans. Very few queer people in this world live fully out, fully realized lives, due to colonialism and Imperialism. And that's what your argument largely fails to do, is account for the overlay of Western ideals onto non-Western media.

You state loudly that you want good Asian art, like Asian art should be a monolith. It is not for people who are not Thai to decide what good Thai art is, which is why you and lurkingshan do with quotes like this:

I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

This is, in my opinion, but you'd have to ask MBDL because he's not allowed to reply to this without violating your wishes, what he was responding to by the following:

"I just wanted to create a post that made people whose queer tastes diverge from others feel welcome to their own preferences and appreciate that there’s not a single stance in the queer BL fandom about what qualifies as good and/or queer work."

People like MBDL and @le-trash-prince, who are also queer, enjoyed the allegorical queer storytelling of Spare Me Your Mercy. The three gay men who you referenced above did not. That's...fine. that's the whole point of MBDL's message, queer people are not a monolith that all agree.

The people of Thailand, overall, enjoyed Spare Me Your Mercy. There is no way to poll what straight or queer Thai people specifically thought, but it's a key piece of the puzzle that Thai people enjoyed this show. Because that's the base audience. That's who they made it for.

But when you say, and I quote this post again: We're getting less of really great queer art in Thailand, because the dampening of queerness in Thai shows might very well mean more bucks for the studios.

You have decided that Thai shows are not great queer art any longer, and that they are dampening queerness off of the critisms of We Are and Perfect 10 Liners, that have been prevalent from your circle. I'll link this one @twig-tea wrote and another one @bengiyo wrote specifically, which comment on shows created by a queer Thai man, and the writing decisions for Spare Me Your Mercy, which were made using an argument you yourself use to suggest that shows shouldn't engage with imagined couples and fan-service. And while these are your opinions, you also, as I have quoted above, stated that:

Finally, a last point about capitalism that I'd like to make. I've been seeing a rising number of posts and comments taking Tumblr bloggers to task for being critical (like, objectively critical) of bad shows. Many folks don't want to read criticism of their fave shows and stars. I want to note that if one takes this position -- the capitalists have won again. If you're someone who's trying to prevent critical takes from being published, well, you got got by the capitalists -- the studios, the managers who want you to be so in love with your faves that you will ponder asking a writer to censor themselves from making a critical take.

I want to be clear, that MBDL writing a statement about how there are many ways to depict and appreciate queer stories is not saying you can't be critical. It's saying that there are alternative views. People saying if you hate GMMTV, maybe don't watch, are saying you seem to be miserable watching this, you can stop any time.

The thing people are rejecting in your critiques are not that you did not like something, that's fine. It is the sweeping statements that there is a right and a good way to make queer art, and everything else shouldn't be engaged with because it's ruining the genre or selling out to capitalist interests (as stated in the above linked Spare Me Your Mercy post by lurkingshan and yourself, and We Are posts twig-tea and bengiyo). Your words across all of these posts, and this one directed at MBDL are about policing other peoples actions and putting your values onto them. That is the core of toxic fandom. Expecting everyone to engage with it exactly the way you want to.

I'm of the opinion that what's good for queer Thai television is not for foriegn audiences to decide, ultimately. That's for queer Thai people to decide. And some of them may not want to make the greatest queer Thai television, some people may want to make fun queer Thai television, or silly queer Television. And that's also a wonderful thing.

Which is at the core of the argument that Dr. Thomas Baudinette started. Dr. Thomas Baudinette stated the following:

He does not state fully what those anti-social practices are. Are some of them likely toxic shipping, yes. But there's also toxic solo stans. (I do take Dr. Thomas Baudinette with a grain of salt because I also know he's a white academic speaking about a community he's not actually fully part of, and I would like to learn more about what Thai and Japanese and Korean fans think.) But his wording suggests that Thai fans are being influenced by fans of other markets: in your post you discuss the TayGun kiss of it all and there's this quote:

In this case, I would like to note that while we see GMMTV reducing blatant queer perspectives and frameworks from their shows, and promoting friend-ships or bro-ships, in the case of High School Frenemy and the SkyNani branded pair, we see GMMTV's (and Thai BL's) rise continue to grow in certain Asian countries (like China, Malaysia, and Indonesia, among others) that do not allow for public displays of queerness, among other restrictions. GMMTV does not hold branded pair fan meetings in these countries, and yet, these countries are some of the channel's biggest markets for its queer shows and pairs. As well, these countries (I am part-Malaysian myself) do not have public programs of sex education. Thus, if I am to assume that the majority fan bases of these shows are young folks in countries that do not offer robust sex education, then these young folks (of any gender) might not be inclined to join in and participate in conversations about queer equality. We, thus, get the outcry that occurred after Tay and Gun smooched. God forbid fantasies were to have been destroyed because two real-life people kissed. Two men, kissing, outside of the context of their branded pairs and outside the context of a drama. Some people have never been to the club before.

To the first part, GMMTV is not reducing their blatant queer perspectives in their shows. That is factually untrue. They've added more QLs (which at GMMTV are always romances) and queer strands in their non-BLs. In fact, the number of queer shows in 2019 was 3 (2 QL and 3 Will Be Free). The number of shows with QL in 2024 was 12 plus queer themes in an aditional 3 shows. That is an increase of 5 times more queer content in 2024 than in 2019. (source: MyDramaList - filtered for GMM25 and then removing anything not produced through GMMTV). This does not touch on how many of the writers and directors for GMMTV are queer people under the age of 40 sharing their perspectives. Now you don't have to like those queer perspectives but they're not getting less queer. In fact, for the 2025 wave, which did not show a reduction in queer perspectives, but in fact showed a proposed total of 15 BLs, 2 GLs, 1 het (oh Nanon's never coming back), 1 mixed stories with some VERY explicitly queer sections, 1 SkyNani bromance, with 4 BL still outstanding, 1 GL set to air in two weeks, and 6 outstanding non-BLs from the 2024 Up and Above announcements. Second, You conflate the lack of acess to public programs of sexual education to a lack of inclination to join and participate in discussions around queer equity. You then use the word Thus to show causation from lack of access to public programs of sex education and repression of queer people to people having meltdowns over TayGun kissing. Lack of education is not why fans don't have boundaries and can't accept their fantasy bubble being broken. I promise you, Taylor Swift fans yelling at her ex boyfriends over her songs are not doing so because of lack of education about sexual ethics. It's about ownership, which is the heart of the anti-capitalist message you espouse. We allow fans worldwide, not just in specific Asian countries to behave badly becaues they've bought a product of a brand.

The concept of toxic fans is not new nor singular to Thai BL media. @chaos0pikachu has one of my favorite rundowns ever on how the tin hats existed in bandom (and GLEE) before Thai BL was ever a thing. I didn't survive Glee and the loss of Chris Colfer as an actor for us to pretend that the people who do this kind of toxic shit for us to pretend that CPs are the cause. I certainly didn't watch Once Upon A Time fans tweet @ Colin O'Donoghue they hoped his pregnant wife would just die so he could be free to be with Jennifer Morrison for us to pretend this is a BL problem. I definitely didn't watch people harrass Rafael Silva and Ronen Rubenstein out of posting their friendship as a gay and a bi man acting together because the assumption was they were having an affiar behind Ronen's partner's back for us to pretend this was a Thai BL problem due to CPs. I did not watch a bunch of people use interviews promoting the show and the fact that they kiss well to say that Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid are having an affair for us to pretend CPs make this problem.

This problem exists with or without branded pairings, but is entirely tied to idol culture and the objectification of celebrity brand and the intrenchment in being a "Stan" and we've completely lost the plot, Eminem. I still think about regularly Katy Perry asking Stevie Nicks who her rivals were, and Stevie Nicks saying she didn't have rivals but contemporaries. Modern fan culture, globally, in the social media era is set up for rivals: the Swifties, the Bey-Hive, the Katy-Cats, the Barbs, Army etc. Fan culture is like this, and without fans participating in the isolation and ignoring of these people they will continue to harrass and attack people, because as Wicked reminds us, the best way to unite people is to give them a common enemy.

I don't know if you watched the disaster that was Korean netizens sending funeral wreaths to be set up in front of SM building for the member of RII7E who tried to return after fans stalked him to catch him engaging in inappropriate behavior and dug up a middle school girlfriend, which was allowed by the company. I do believe some of this is what he's referring to by anti-social behavior. One of the most horrifying acts of behavior against a GMMTV artist was someone getting into Fluke Nattanon's car and refusing to get out. Like...that's the scariest shit. That shit should be handled. That had nothing to do with shipping culture, and everything to do with a company not enforcing boundaries.

Any time and I mean any time, a person feels that they have the right to objectify a person and control them, that is both NEVER okay and is also NEVER the fault of the person who is being treated that way. No amount of branded pairing is responsible for toxic fans who don't have boundaries. Should the companies do something about them, yes, and that's what Dr. Baudinette is referring to.

To quote @wen-kexing-apologist's essay on objectification of Asian men which you linked in the post on Spare Me Your Mercy:

We all need to, but white Westerners especially, be extremely careful and introspective with the ways we are engaging with queer Asian media

And I take this very seriously. I think it applies not just to the objectification and commodification of the actors, as wen-kexing-apologist wrote about, but also applies to the infantilization and removal of agency of the writers, directors, actors and audiences in Asian countries who are engaging in the process of making and enjoying queer Asian art, suggesting they are not active participants in the process. It is not for interfans to talk over Thai writers, directors, actors and fans of what is and is not true for them and their country's work around queer Thai art.

The long and the short of it, is if you're going to post opinions as facts and undercut anyone who disagrees with you: on what is and what isn't good Asian media, what is and isn't good Thai media, what is and is not queer media, and how people should measure it, and other queer people say out loud: we don't have to all measure queer media the same way and we can have different opinions, and this is your response...I honestly wish you peace.

Clearing The Air On This Wack-Ass Event Of Toxic Fandom That My Brown Ass Was Recently Dragged Into

(*References and endnotes are posted in the comments.)

This past weekend, I was unwittingly brought into an event of toxic fandom instigated by @maybe-boys-do-love. The following is an account of that event, and a rebuttal to misrepresentations that he made in his posts.

1) Chronology of Events and Clarification of Communication, Connections, and Blocks

Late last week, @lurkingshan posted a thought piece about separating art and commerce in discussions of queer shows, and talked, in part, about Spare Me Your Mercy and the show's ratings popularity in Thailand as compared to its narrative shortcomings. The piece also talks about the artistic success, versus the public outcry, of the South Korean queer show, Love In The Big City. I, and a few others, reblogged the post with thought pieces of our own. (If you are interested in following along, reading the second link is a necessity.)

Tumblr user @maybe-boys-do-love subsequently posted, separately on his blog, a reaction post to Shan's post and my reblog of her post (1). His reaction contained misreads and dangerous misrepresentations of Shan's and my writing.

Shan and @maybe-boys-do-love had previously mutually blocked each other (2). Therefore, @maybe-boys-do-love went around the block to react to Shan's post.

He did not make clear to his audience that he was reacting to Shan's post. He wrote his reaction post without citing or linking to Shan's post, and did not tag me as well, thus removing both myself and Shan from a discourse that we had instigated, and prevented his audience from knowing or understanding his reference point for his reaction.

Mutuals reached out to me with @maybe-boys-do-love's piece, having previously read Shan's and my posts.

I DMed @maybe-boys-do-love to note to him that I had seen his post, and that I preferred to be tagged directly in discourse. I wrote that I would write today's post as a means of correcting the incorrect assumptions he made about my opinions. I also checked with @lurkingshan to make her aware of the post and ask if she wanted to be included in a response. Shan stated that she had already blocked @maybe-boys-do-love for previous instances where he indirectly vague-posted about her and misrepresented her writing, and that she had no interest in responding, but was fine with me doing so.

I then publicly reblogged @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post with a clarifying note, sharing the link to Shan's original post and my reblog of our original SMYM discourse. I noted publicly that his reaction post contained misreads and inaccuracies that I will be clarifying today.

@maybe-boys-do-love deleted my reblog. I do not see my original reblog of his reaction post in his reblog notes. Mutuals confirmed, from their blogs, that they also cannot see my original reblog of his reaction post.

I requested to him by DM that he reinstate my reblog. He did not. He reblogged my reblog from my own blog (sorry, y'all) with a response to me and a general defense of his original reaction post.

He denied in DMs that he had deleted my reblog. I stated that I didn't believe him, and requested for our DM conversation to end (3).

2) Toxic Fandom and Expectations of Personal Accountability in Public Forums

Before I get into the nitty-gritty of responding to @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post, I want to take a quick second to talk about toxic fandom and accountability, because it's been a topic bubbling up particularly in the world of the fandom of Asian, and specifically Thai, QLs. My public and private conversations with @maybe-boys-do-love about this reaction incident, prior to this post's publication, have been filled with a kind of noxious disingenuousness and deceit that has given me the damn creeps.

I've had tussles with other bloggers before about our disagreements of the art and economics of Asian QLs. The discourse has been almost always so much fun, often argumentative, sometimes gritty, sometimes passive aggressive, and sometimes parasocial involving the celebrities and creators of these shows.

I have always kept discourse respectful, and I pride myself with integrity on responding to any point that has been shot my way. I have been blocked for my takes, and I have encouraged others to block me if my takes are not to their liking, and they attack me for them. I encourage folks who don't like my takes to curate their Tumblr experiences, and take agency for what they agree with and want to read.

If I rant about someone's potential faves -- someone's fave shows or couples -- I put trigger warnings on those posts (here and here are two examples, and the most immediate link above also has a TW), knowing there's a lot of sensitivity out there over content. I trust the judgement of readers to read those trigger warnings and to skedaddle.

In other words, I take full responsibility and accountability for my writing, and I expect my readers to engage with me in good faith in return. I'm proud of the critical posts I've made over the last two and a half years here on Tumblr, especially my exploration of the history of the Thai BL genre through my Old GMMTV Challenge project.

I posted recently that the Asian QL scholar, Dr. Thomas Baudinette, believes that the number one threat to the growth of the Thai BL industry is toxic fandom and the prioritization of problematic markets.

It's funny that I posted that a few days before this incident happened. The specific elements of toxic behavior as demonstrated by @maybe-boys-do-love, as stated above, are that he

a) subverted blocks to read and respond to Shan's post without citing her, b) he did not clarify for his audience what he was reacting to, thus rendering untruthful his real intentions in writing his post, and c) his actual reaction post contained misreads and misinterpretations of Shan's and my analysis.

I'd like to name some elements of toxic behavior and fandom that occurred in the public communication I had with @maybe-boys-do-love to highlight them in order to emphasize the disrespectful nature of this incident.

In his reblog of my clarification post to his original reaction post, @maybe-boys-do-love writes,

"I also want to respect that not everyone wants to get involved in a back-and-forth on here."

Because of previous DMs, reblogs, tags, and comments on and of my work that @maybe-boys-do-love has made, I know that he is very familiar with my blog and my writing. We have previously communicated publicly and privately. I do not know why he would make an assumption that I would not have wanted to be tagged in his original reaction post, reacting inaccurately to points I made in my Spare Me Your Mercy post, considering that he and I have a public history of prior engagement. 

This assumption (remember the adage about assuming…) makes so little sense to me that I can only conclude he is coming from a stance of a disingenuous and untruthful defense.

More concerning, @maybe-boys-do-love follows with:

"I just wanted to create a post that made people whose queer tastes diverge from others feel welcome to their own preferences and appreciate that there’s not a single stance in the queer BL fandom about what qualifies as good and/or queer work."

Again, as @maybe-boys-do-love is familiar with my blog, I do not know why he would assume that my work is insular so as to not welcome different perspectives and discourse on my opinions -- as he and I had actually engaged, in the past, on our opinions of other content, and that there is overwhelming proof on my blog that I love engaging in discourse with others.

The statement that "there's not a single stance in the queer BL fandom" about my work is disingenuous, disrespectful, and toxic.

If it's not clear in the most obvious way -- and it may not be clear to some -- I am a personal blogger, posting my opinions and analysis, on a personal blog. My blog isn't Encyclopedia fucking Brittanica.

@maybe-boys-do-love indicates in his reblog that his mutuals helped him get around his and Shan's blocks. 

He also identifies as a "flaming gay guy" to characterize his position for his love of Spare Me Your Mercy, leading him to go around the blocks to comment on Shan's original post.

"Friends of mine shared the post with me knowing the love I, as a flaming gay guy, had for Spare Me Your Mercy."

I want to note that in the context of this characterization, I myself reached out to three gay male friends (one Asian friend, and two white friends married to each other). (There's nothing that IRL people love more than an Internet beef.) These three individuals range on the flaming spectrum, and assured me that @maybe-boys-do-love's position does not count as spoken monolithically for the gay male community (4).

Which leads me to my last point (for now) about toxic fandom. As iterated above: these Tumblr blogs we write on are personal blogs, homes to personal opinions, created by individuals.

The danger of trying to leverage group-think or group-speak to validate toxic opinions and toxic engagement with others is high within fandom discourse. I see it all the time on X in BL shipper circles. Maybe @maybe-boys-do-love's friends were too cowardly to write reaction posts of their own, and asked their friend to write one on their behalf. If that's the case, @maybe-boys-do-love can show us the receipts. But I'm guessing that didn't happen.

Within group and family therapy arenas, and human relations and business environments, counseling often focuses on "I-speak" -- the practice of using the "I" pronoun to claim accountability for facts, opinions, recounting of details, and so on. Using the "we" pronoun to justify a position -- without identifying who your "we" is -- weakens a stance, and at the same time, creates panic and fear within a group or community. It's a tactic often used in gaslighting or supremacist situations to generate collective fear over incorrect facts and threats.

This tactic is useless in a scenario like this, when there is ample published proof that @maybe-boys-do-love published a misrepresentative reaction post that did not link to the original source, deceiving his audience; he subsequently tried to monolithically speak for others, and to leverage and claim community to justify his doing so. It's wrong, it's disingenuous, and it's toxic.

I wouldn't want this guy speaking for me, and I hope readers of this post wouldn't want him to, either.

3) Responding to Misrepresented Points in MBDL's Reaction Post

Note: Much of @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post reacted to points that @lurkingshan made about Spare Me Your Mercy and the Asian QL genre. I have consulted with Shan on my responses and she has approved them.

My entire rebuttal is long. An abridged version is below, and the entire rebuttal is linked here at this private link.

I want to start my response to misrepresented points in @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post by highlighting the most noxious misread he made. He writes,

"and just a friendly reminder that a simple BL romcom is equally as queer of a story as a story about HIV."

Much of @maybe-boys-do-love's reaction post seemed magically conjured out of his ass to assume or imply that certain points were made by @lurkingshan when they were most certainly not.

NOT ONCE IN @lurkingshan's POST WAS LOVE IN THE BIG CITY DESCRIBED AS A "STORY ABOUT HIV." IN FACT, HIV WAS NEVER MENTIONED AT ALL, BY ANYONE, IN THE ORIGINAL POST, OR ANY OF THE REBLOGS AND ADDITIONS.

That was a heinous and noxious misread and reduction of @lurkingshan's post, wholly inaccurate and misrepresentative of the tone and content of Shan's original writing, and more revealing about him and his perspectives about the shows, than anyone he was pretending to fight.

And nowhere in @lurkingshan's original post did she claim that a BL romcom was not as "equally as queer" as any other story.

I want to respond specifically to an analysis of capitalism and markets that I made in my reblog of Shan's post, that @maybe-boys-do-love then reacted to.

"just a reminder, if we wanna talk about capitalism, that the whole idea of a work being better or worse, queerer or less queer, more valuable or less valuable based on it’s reception in numbers (either higher or lower) is not something Marx and Engels would be into, since they ascribed to exchange value over use value. The labor put into the work is where it’s at—and all of these shows had plentiful hours of (queer) labor put into them! But not everyone who talks about the wrongs of capitalism on here is actually interested in the finer details of how capitalism operates, the full political and economic realities of the companies making these shows, nor the individuals who are forced to fight for change within capitalism’s global structure."

This was such a convoluted, random, and inaccurate reaction to my post that I had to send it to a family member who is an actual professional economist (again, remember, IRL people love internet beefs) (5). He assured me that Karl Marx and Fredreich Engels would NOT have wanted to get tangled up in this beef.

But, anyway. I'm not a communist, and when I speak about capitalism and the markets to which Asian QL content is marketed to, I'm not analyzing the quantity of labor put into these shows that needs to be exchanged on the various Asian markets in order for the shows to be made. That's a very specific sightline into production budgets that maybe tingles @maybe-boys-do-love's brain. I think he was just trying to sound smart.

I want to be clear that he reacted to nothing I wrote in my post. This was a made-up stream of something that only established how he watches and judges shows.

But because I used the word "capitalism" in my post to talk about how GMMTV and other studios are addressing queerness and queer perspectives in their shows, @maybe-boys-do-love found reason to take issue with my writing, and to assume an air of intellectualism to establish a false sense of superiority -- by posting drivel.

All responses can be found at this link.

4) Conclusion and a Public Request to Respect Boundaries

As I wrote above: I wrote this post to make a public record of rebuttal against misinterpretations made about my writing by @maybe-boys-do-love.

I will publicly request that @maybe-boys-do-love do not contact me again. Do not reblog, tag, or comment on my posts.

If I have to block @maybe-boys-do-love, I will. However, I want the ability to read any further reaction he might have to this rebuttal, especially if he continues to besmirch my writing inaccurately and disingenuously.

As he demonstrated that he could not respect Shan's boundaries prior to this incident, I will say publicly now:

RESPECT MY BOUNDARIES.

And I want to thank the many mutuals who reached out to me during this incident to offer your support, and to notify me that this public incident of misrepresentation was taking place.

[dragqueenstarscream]

alternatively for a break from screamer 2 8 10 16 for knockout. my favorite homosex man

yesssss, i love this bot! i don't write about him a lot, but his faggotry is off the charts.

off topic, but have you ever heard the song "take a slice" by glass animals? i think of him whenever i hear that song. the porno-esque intro music just fits him. anyway.

2 - knock out absolutely has a thing for lingerie, both on you and himself. to him, lingerie is like wrapping paper on a birthday present, teasing him with what lies beneath. whether he slowly unties each pretty little bow and knot or just rips it right off, it'll be on the floor by the end of the night. if he decides to wear lingerie for you, however, that's a real treat, as he only does that every once in a while. don't rip it off him, though; cybertronian sized lingerie is hard to find.

he's also got a wicked praise kink. he loves being told how hot he is, how handsome he is, how good he is in the berth, etc. feed his ego, and he'll treat you right.

8 - that was right after one of his crazed street races. he has a thing for showing you off, and with you in the driver's seat dressed all handsome, just for him... well, that combined with the rush of a good race drove him wild. he may have had to play dirty, but he ended up winning that race, and the night ended in him doing donuts in the parking lot (to show you off even more) before finding a nice, secluded spot to fuck you silly. he's not usually on top, he's more of a pampered princess who likes having his valve played with, but sometimes, an adrenaline rush gets his engines revving in more ways than one.

10 - he has a thing for when you're fresh out of the shower. sure, he finds your ostensibly human post shower wet hair amusing, but he also enjoys how fresh you are, how nice you smell. on a similar line, he likes when you're wearing an outfit that not only looks good on you, but makes you feel good as well. considering he himself enjoys always looking his best, it makes sense that he enjoys that on you, too.

16 - you know those little fins on the sides of his head? the ones that look like elf ears? right there. run your fingers along them, kiss them, lick them, and he'll start making noises he didn't realize could come out of his mouth.

on a similar note, his chest grills are crazy sensitive. slip your fingers in there, play with them a bit, and his whole body turns to putty in your hands.

[yeonjunsvape]

vampire date: hoshi pt. 1

genre: angst (smut in pt. 2)

w/c: 2k

pairings: vampire!hoshi, female!reader

warnings: drinking, softporn

summary: vampire!hoshi meets someone for the first time who is disobedient to his orders and he wants to know her secret.

"i know i'm an hour late, my day hasn't gone great, i'll be there in 30." you hang up on your (with all the best intentions) overbearing, best friend.

not only did you wake up with a huge pimple on your face, but at work 2 people dine and dashed and you had to pay their bill. when your best friend suggested going to a new club in the city, all you wanted to do was deny and go to sleep, but then she started talking about getting plastered, which sounds amazing right now.

after finishing the final touches on your makeup, you grab your purse, and call an uber to the new club. (dont drink and drive 🔫).

"you're going to Le Chamber? i've been there once... bad energy." the uber driver spoke as he drove the car and you notice a crucifix around his neck. "bad energy?" you usually don't interact with strangers but since it's your first time going to the club, it peaked your interest.

"yeah, as soon as i stepped inside i felt something off, like an evil vibe." you end the conversation with a 'hum' and stare out the window to the mysterious club.

when you finally arrive, you pay the uber then head inside to meet your best friend, who is on the dance floor and already drunk.

she yells your name over the music and you run over, giving her a big hug. "here drink," she demands and hands you two shots of god knows what.

without hesitation you throw your head back, taking both of them down with a scrunched up face and start dancing with your best friend.

there was a cluster of rooms on the second floor of the club that people rented out for parties and as soon as you turn to get more shots, you see 4 strikingly handsome men walk down the spiral staircase.

you call out your order to the bartender but your eyes never leave the men as they walk with a synchronized stride, almost like they're floating. when they get closer, you can see their gothic attire and tattoos all over their bodies.

"8 shots of straight vodka." one of them with bleached blonde hair, says to the bartender who was currently making your drinks.

the bartender looks him in the eyes and without a word, drops your drink, making the mysterious man his instead. you scoff loudly, "hey, what about my drink?" you yell over the music and the bartender ignores you, eyes still fixed on making the 8 shots.

"thanks to this asshole, i guess chivalry really is dead." you mutter to yourself and the mystery man chuckles. "chivalry isn't dead, i can just be quite convincing when i want to be."

your eyebrow raised when him and his friends laugh at his stupid comeback but you were not only confused on how he heard you, but also on how you heard him so clearly over the music.

after a few hours and 10 shots in, you were on the dance floor with your best friend, dancing with random men you will never see again, yet you were having a blast.

the mans hands on your waist suddenly left and before you turn around to see what happened, you felt them back on your hips, moving your body to the music.

your eyes go to your best friend and see her now dancing with one of the guys from earlier and your head turns behind your shoulder to see the bleach blonde hair man.

"what are you doing here? where's the other guy?" you ask and pull away from his grasp. "well, you claim that i'm not chivalrous, but here i am, having a dance with you." you roll your eyes and cross your arms, "i'm done dancing, let's go [Y/B/F]."

the mysterious man grabs your arm in his big hand, staring straight into your eyes. "you will dance with me, then go upstairs later with my friends and i."

his eyes were a deep wine color which you thought was tacky and when he spoke you had a bored look on your face. "oh will i? because i don't think so."

he was stunned by your words and when you go to grab your friend she was clinging onto the other man. "[Y/N], i'm dancing with him, then going upstairs later."

your fight or flight kicked in and you grab her wrist so you could drag her away but the man held her tightly. "you will let her go with me, and you'll accompany hoshi later." again with the demanding with these guys, who do they think they are? at least you have a name to the bleach blonde hair man.

"i'm not accompanying anyone, and neither is she, we're leaving." your friend fights you off and gets closer to the man. "go home if you're going to be a downer [Y/N]."

you were offended your best friend trusted a stranger more than you, not knowing she was under a spell. "fine, i will, wear a condom perverts." (srsly guys, wear condoms: safe sex)

you storm out of the club, the music beat can only be heard from the outside and your steps were wobbly considering you were still drunk. "uber." you yell out to the air as if anyone could hear you.

hoshi follows close behind you and presses his lips together so he didn't laugh. "that's not how uber works, you actually have to use your phone." he reminds you and you nod, taking out the device in your pocket but everything was blurry.

"need a ride?" he finally asks after watching you struggle with your phone. "ew no, i know enough about you to know not to get in a vehicle with you." you were already a blunt person but it amplifies when you're drunk.

hoshi ignores your rudeness and steps infront of you, "can i see your eyes?" he asks and you look up at his wine eyes again. "let me take you home." he says in a serious manner and you start drunkingly giggling. "let me take you home." you mock then start walking down the street.

"why aren't you doing what i say?" hoshi was confused, no one in his many years on earth has ever disobeyed his commands. "because i'm a person with my own free will, sorry i don't fall for a handsome face like everyone else does."

he ponders scenarios in his head on how it could be possible for you to be immune to his orders, not realizing he's walking behind you. "can you stop following me?" you turn around, stopping him in his tracks.

"where do you live? you can't walk home this drunk." hoshi presses a button on his keys and a car alarm starts ringing. "my car is right there, let me take you."

you hum as you think and agree only because you lived 20 minutes away by car so if you walked it would take you about 7 hours to make it home.

his car looked like the batmobile from batman and when you got inside it, he drove off fast. it was such a thrill, especially with the windows down, "i feel like im flying." you yell and put your arms up. hoshi just laughed when he watched and his speed was so fast he made it to your home in 10 minutes.

you open the car door and hoshi grabs your wrist before you could get out. "i'm going to see you again, i hope." he gives you a smirk and you think about it. "perhaps... put your number in."

he does as you say, then let's go of your wrist. "see you around [Y/N], oh and i'll make sure your friend gets home safe."

"[Y/N], you're the most beautiful woman in this world." hoshi whispers in your ear, kissing your neck tenderly while he massages your breasts in his hands. "you're the most handsome man. i usually don't fall for men with faces like yours but there's something about you." you whisper back, unbuckling his belt buckle, and twirling your finger around his hard member under his boxers.

"fuck [Y/N]..." his moan sent electricity to your core, making your hips jolt up on him. "want me to fuck you?" he asks with a laugh and you nod, "yes please..."

your eyes shoot open when you hear a knock on your apartment door and realize hoshi in your bed was just a dream. "what a weird dream...." you whisper and fling yourself off the bed, opening your door to see your best friend standing there.

"you got home okay?" you ask and welcome her inside. "yes, minghao is so romantic, we spent the night together at my place last night." you cringe at the thought and put your hand up, "no details please. how are you up at 7 am with no hangover?" you raise an eyebrow, your head beating from drinking so much last night.

"minghao woke me up at 6 am and we got breakfast, i feel energized actually." you nod and plop on the couch, "i feel the opposite." she joins you and hands you a bag of donuts. "i brought you some."

you take it, grateful she thought of you, "i think i'm going to sleep more, i'll eat them later." your friend sits up and looks in your eyes, "come with me to minghao's house." she squints her eyes the same way hoshi did last night and you furrow your eyebrows. "i'm too tired, maybe later."

she sighed and pursed her lips, "he said that would work..."

"what would work?"

"oh-nothing, i can't say."

of course this enticed you more, knowing she was keeping a secret from you. "what would work?" you ask again and sit up, noticing her eyes darting away from you. "did you get contacts? they're the same shade as minghao and hoshi." you mumble and your friend bites her lip.

"can you keep a secret?" you scoff and take one of her hands, "of course you're my best friend.."

"they didn't say much... but minghao told me i was going to change from now on. also, he taught me a trick to get people to do whatever i want by looking into their eyes, but since it didn't work on you, i guess i cant do it."

you listen to her intently and stand, going to your bedroom to grab your phone.

[Y/N]: "come over... NOW!!"

you walk back in the livingroom and grab your friends hands, "we'll figure out what they did to you." you assure, giving her a hug.

5 minutes after you sent the text, hoshi knocks at the door and you answer with a hand on your hip. "you got here fast." he rubs the back of his neck and nervously laughs, "i was in the neighborhood."

you close the door after he walks in and lead him

to the couch, pushing him on it. "did minghao drug her last night?" hoshi looks at your friend and notices her eyes, putting his face in hands. "he's an idiot."

"either you tell me or i call the police." you threaten and hoshi stands up quickly, grabbing your phone. "the police won't help with this... we kind of control them."

"okay, then i'll call N.C.I.S." hoshi looks at you dumbfounded, "like the american tv show?" you clear your throat and nod, "i didn't think you knew that... i was trying to scare you."

"i'll talk to him about it, keep her inside, seriously, she can hurt someone." he mumbles and you scoff, "hurt someone???"

"fine... since she's changed, i might as well just tell you. she's a vampire." hoshi bluntly spills the truth and your jaw was on the floor. "i'm also a vampire."

[beetlesau]

Its Light Still Shines

Chapter 2 - 1.2k

(Chapter 1 here)

haters will say Shadow wasn't even in this chapter. sorry

The grass beneath me is soft. I've never felt anything like it in all my memories. I smell the earth, fresh and beautiful.

I don't know where I teleported away to.

An old abandoned cabin sits before me, and a running stream-turned-river sits not far from it. I can hear its flowing water and the small fish that splash its surface now and then. Morning is breaking just over the horizon, and pink and orange paint the sky as I approach the worn building.

"Hello?" I call out, but no one has been here in a long, long time.

I knocked on the door before opening it in case someone or something was waiting inside. I didn't expect how sturdy and tough the door would be. The outside looked like old wooden logs but resonated like a metal crate. When my knuckles made contact, a small, pin-sized light met my gaze and scanned my retina.

"Welcome, Experiment L2S-03xx. to SafeZone 12." A static voice chimed in the door, which swung open automatically. Dust and dirt accumulated around the crevasses, which were knocked loose and found their way to my throat. I coughed, covering my face, and tried to disperse the debris with my free hand.

I entered, and to my surprise, I found it looked like a cozy cabin you'd book for a vacation. It was an open floor concept, with a bed on the far left wall, a bathroom ahead of me, a kitchen, and a small dinette to the right. The decor was simple and a bit antique. A frilly duvet on the bed caught my gaze. I rolled my eyes when I realized I could even recognize such small details about something I'd never seen in my real life before—sudden thoughts of watching interior decorating on TV flashed in my mind's eye.

I groaned. I had other problems besides the clashing curtains in the dinette not matching the plates stacked on the shelves above the sink. Namely what the AI system called me.

"L2S? What? What was it you called me?" I asked aloud.

"That is your experiment identification code," it stated as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Where am I?"

"This is isolated SafeZone 12 erected by Professor Robotnik, Gerald."

"When was this last time he was here?"

"57 years, 8 months, 21 days. Would you like the question answered to the nearest second?"

"No! No, thank you. Do I have a name?"

"You were not assigned a name, only your experiment identification code."

"What is Shadows experiment code or whatever, then?"

"S2L-02xy - or Project Shadow."

I removed my jacket, shuffled over to the bed, and plopped onto the surprisingly soft mattress, caressing little angels into the plush comforter. "Bummer. How come he got a name, and I didn't?" I was speaking to myself now, but the system took it upon itself to answer anyway.  

"Records indicate you were an preliminary project that was not completed under the supervision of the Professor."

"Yeah, yeah. So what is my purpose?"

"Error. Purpose Obsolete."

"Ouch okay, what was my purpose?"

"You are a culmination of the residuals left over from Project Shadow, chaos emeralds, and the restructured DNA of the deceased Maria Robotnik. Your purpose was to serve as replacement parts for an incurable disease within Maria Robotnik. However, key parts of the experiment did not occur due to the ARK's destruction. Your consciousness was triggered and stages of your development were altered by the government organization known as GUN."

"You're kidding me."

"I do not understand; please rephrase."

I wept quietly to myself.

I was never meant to awaken. My purpose was never as divided from Maria as Shadow. If GUN hadn't intervened, there would be no me.

But then Maria may still be alive otherwise.

Did I even deserve to be alive instead?

I pulled one of the pillows close and buried my face into it.

All these memories of her kindness. Her beauty. I have them because she died.

It's too much for me.

I screw my eyes shut, hoping I can lock my tears away, but I can't. They come and soak through everything. The pounding in my head kicks up again. Before long, I cried myself to sleep at the thought of her and all she was. All that I can only hope to be for myself.

Being in stasis and actually sleeping are worlds apart. When I wake, my mind settles, and I better regulate my emotions. It's once again dark outside, and in the night, I see a flashing light coming from the dinette table. I pull myself up, groggy, and shuffle over to check it out.

"What is this?" I ask the system.

"There is an electronic pulse similar to that of the Professor's work in a quadrant of Japan that has recently appeared. Would you like to take a look?"

"Show me." Anything to do with the Professor now could only mean something involving Shadow.

The system flashes, and a small hologram feed floats just at eye level. It shows security footage of a pier in Japan, likely hacked into by Robotniks tech, which is still advanced all these years later. My skin prickles as I watch an immense mechanical crab surface from the water.

I've seen this before, but Shadow isn't there. Not yet. He's going to find the Professor, not the Doctor.

"Can you keep tabs on that crab from here?"

"I can mark it as an object of interest, of course. Would you like to be notified when it relocates?"

"Oh. Uh, I don't plan on staying here much longer, I'm leaving once I figure out where Shadow is."

"I have an electronic bracer in the refrigerator that can be used as a notification hub when you're away from SafeZone 12."

"The refrigerator?"

"It is the red box behind you and to your left, it typically holds items to keep them cool and fresher for longer than if they were left out at room tem--"

Okay! Thank you, that's not really what I meant when I-- you know what? Nevermind. Thank you. I'll be sure to grab that before I go."

"You are welcome, L2S-03xx."

"Could you call me something else?" I grumbled.

"I can reassign your name, yes. What would you prefer?"

I took a moment to think it over. I wasn't stuck to one thing. I could change my name as much as I wanted; it wasn't like I had one. And I wasn't really Maria; keeping hers didn't feel right. Though I could, as an homage. I didn't think this would be that hard, but a name might be a big deal.

"I don't actually know... I guess I should just shorten my experiment name for now. Call me L. I'm sure I can come up with something better later. Maybe." If I couldn't stop Shadow from what was to come, it wouldn't matter if I'd had a name.

I felt drained all over again. Although I've been alone all this time, I was never lonely—not when they occupied my mind. But now I felt the weight of things.

I'd never had Shadow. I was nothing to him, but I would fight for him.

I couldn't be his Maria; I must be something else. I would reach him.

"Its Light still shines."

[lynnaredfield3383]

Not my characters. Aged up 21. Fem reader. Warning!!! Weight insecurities. Chubby reader insulted. Angst. Sex inflicted scratches/bites mentioned. (Understand Bokuto kept the secret because reader would break up with him if he didn't.)

"Wow. Yer girl is vicious,” Atsumu said as he passed Bokuto in the locker room.

Atsumu’s words had the rest of the team looking at Bokuto's back. Meanwhile, Bokuto laughed proud of the marks left by his girlfriend.

“Nah…She likes to bite and I'm all for it,” Bokuto spoke like a man whipped for his woman.

“When are we meeting this mystery girl?”

Hinata asked pulling his shirt on.

“I was thinking this weekend,” Bokuto shut his locker turning to his teammates.

“Is she shy or sumthin’?” Atsumu asked grabbing his bag.

Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck, not sure how to answer the question.

“Not normally, but she's not a big fan of athletes or volleyball.”

“How does that even work?” Kiyoomi asked.

“Look, she didn't want me to say anything, but we've been together for 8 months now and…”

“Eight months!!! You kept it a secret?” Hinata spoke in shock.

“She went to high school with Sumu.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing assuming what came next would be juicy gossip. They weren't wrong.

“Huh? Did we know each other?” Sumu asked surprised.

“Yeah. You insulted her. She's over it because it was high school, but she hasn't really wanted to meet the team because…Uh, she can't stand you.”

All eyes on Sumu, he himself was surprised. Insulting people on a daily basis through high school made it impossible for him to narrow down who it might be.

“You didn't call her an oinkin’ pig, did you?” Hinata asked.

“I…I don't know who it could be. I mean I insulted anyone that crossed my path but in fun, never hurtful.”

Bokuto looked really uncomfortable and grabbed his bag.

“Jellyroll. You called her a jellyroll because she was a little chubby.”

All the color drained from Sumu’s face, his heart stopped. Swallowing hard he met Bokuto's gaze.

“Y/n? Yer dating Y/n?” Sumu stuttered.

“Oh gee, looks like his brain stopped functioning,” Kiyoomi spoke bored.

“Yeah. She was sure you wouldn't remember her,” Bokuto said.

Sumu could never forget Y/n. He'd had a crush on her since 1st year and at the end of 2nd year after they'd lost at Nationals she'd come to support them. Sumu being angry and an idiot had told her to get lost. That he didn't need a jellyroll trying to make him feel better. When 3rd year came around Y/n had transferred schools and he'd never gotten a chance to apologize. Or to confess.

“I hurt her bad. Always felt awful ‘bout that,” Sumu nearly whispered.

“Well, you'll get the chance to apologize,” Hinata smiled brightly.

“Yeah. Maybe she'll start coming to the games,” Bokuto added.

“Okay, what does she look like now?” Meian finally spoke up.

Bokuto grinned happily, pulling out his phone and his favorite picture of Y/n. It was Y/n & Bokuto on a beach date. Y/n wore a black one piece bathing suit with the sides cut out.

“Wow.” Hinata whistled lowly.

“Those are some dangerous curves,” Meian added.

“Very pretty,” Kiyoomi offered with no energy.

Sumu hesitated, and when he looked, his heart stuttered. She was as beautiful as he remembered.

“Congrats man. Sorry, my high school self screwed things around for ya.”

"All good. Can't wait for the rest of you to meet her! Night!"

Hinata sat next to Astumu once the others left.

"Ya good?" Hinata asked.

"Not a bit. C'mon. You're my sober driver."