#these are for class and i hate both of them

[americanredragger]

Honestly, I've said many times that "success is a dirty business" because you need to be willing and able to work with people who are GOING to disagree with you about SOMETHING. Maybe even a lot of things. Maybe even FUNDAMENTAL things. And working with people you disagree with can feel dirty and nasty, especially if you aren't used to coalition building. And purity tests and culture FEEL righteous and good, but the nasty end result is that if you won't work with anyone but someone who represents a carbon copy of your own beliefs and values, before too long you will always find yourself working alone. We don't have to agree on EVERYTHING, just ONE THING -- the thing that brought us to the same meet in the first place. And as long as you can do that? You can raise hell and change the world for the better.

For instance, I know that "LIBERAL" is a dirty word in leftist spaces, but I'll still break bread with them as far left as they're willing to go with me on matters. Sure we don't agree on Capitalism as a basic thing and whether it should or should not exist (IT SHOULDN'T), but we agree on plenty that CAN be worked with (like people not dying in medical debt, or protecting people from cops even if they disagree that ACAB). Obviously I would love it if they went further left and joined the working class' revolution, but I also don't make my helping them on things we DO agree with conditional on that. It just means that I won't ask for their help on leftist stuff because I know in advance what the answer will be. You'll always have more in common with that Liberal Democrat that you hate than with that MAGA Toadstool you BOTH hate even more, so bond over that for as far as it will take you and make EVERYBODY'S world that little bit brighter.

You don't have to be friends or clones to admit that in the fight against injustice and tyranny, we are all kin. Agreeing where we can instead of writing off because of where we don't is how communities and nations are built. It doesn't need to be perfect. It just needs to be better than what it's replacing.

Finally, remember the wisdom of Elrond:

“No oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road.” “Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens,” said Gimli. “Maybe,” said Elrond, “but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” “Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart,” said Gimli. “Or break it,” said Elrond. “Look not too far ahead!”

Do you want to be politically pure in theory or help your neighbor. Is it fruitless to help your neighbor because there's no Perfect Pure way to do it ?

[gukcnt]

06 | SHADOWS OF OBSESSION ⭒ JJK

a criminal's obsession with a shy medical student starts a passionate mix of desire and darkness. As their worlds collide, secrets get exposed and possession turns into love. In a world filled with betrayal and the weight of their own pasts, can they find a way to survive together? or will their twisted bond ultimately destroy them both?

pairing — criminal dom!jungkook x student sub!femreader

genre — criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, lots of angst, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, angry!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, emotional vulnerability, trauma and recovery, tension, mentions of blood, angry confessions, domestic intimacy, care and nurturing, argument, miscommunication, conflict and confrontation, crying and begging, isolation, sacrifice, escaping, guilt, self-hating, heartbreak, fear and desperation, mentions of anger, several sex scenes, several orgasms, multiple positions, oral sex (f. receiving), use of sex toy, vibrator, making out, biting and scratching, consensual forced orgasm, crying from pleasure, intense overstimulation, dual stimulation, fingering, mentions of blood during sex, safe word mentioned but not used, cum swallowing, clit play, breast play, eating out, face riding, face sitting, tongue fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (m. receiving), deep throating, gagging, face fucking, cock sucking, body worship, bruising, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary, doggy and 69 position, emotional and physical connection during sex, post sex care, aftercare

wc — 8.2k

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

The air was heavy with the smell of forest and earth in jungkook's cabin, a scent that felt like a part of you now since you were so used to it.

Like home.

Everywhere in his place held small things of your presence and yet it barely dimmed the tension in your heart.

You stood in the small living room, feet bare and even though this place softened just for you, comforting you in its own way,

It started to feel like a cage now, like the walls were closing in.

You'd been healing.

The trauma of your kidnapping started leaving under jungkook's care—feeding you warm meals with his own hands, eyes constantly watching all your moves.

His gruff voice always murmuring promises of safety to you.

But the ache for your own life, your apartment where you’d spent most of your time, held so much of you, had grown into a need.

You missed your days—medical textbooks, visiting your university and you chasing your dreams.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like it here, the cabin was warm, along with jungkook’s presence.

A comfort you both cherished and resented.

You needed a moment to breathe.

To break free.

You faced jungkook now, his broad frame filling the couch, black t-shirt clinging to his muscled chest.

His hair was messy, falling over his forehead, a cigarette was between his lips.

He was just lazily lounging yet looked so beautifully dangerous and his gaze on you made your heart stutter.

Your shaky hands twisted the hem of your oversized sweater.

His sweater.

“jungkook.” you breathed.

Mustering all the courage you had even though fear was still lacing your words.

“I want to go back. To my apartment. I miss my life.”

“I can’t… I can’t stay here forever.”

His eyes darkened, jaw clenching so hard the muscle ticked. The cigarette burned brighter as he inhaled and exhaled out the smoke almost in a furious way.

“No.”

Just a single word, that’s it.

But so sharp.

The word broke your heart as your eyes glistened with tears, threatening to spill.

You stepped closer.

“Please.” you begged.

Voice trembling with desperation.

“I need to go back. I—I have classes, dreams, a life.”

You looked at him as he didn’t speak further, focusing on the wall ahead but his clenched jaw was the proof that he was listening.

“You can’t keep me locked away like… like a pet!”

His cigarette fell to the floor as he advanced towards you, his steps thudding on the floor, expressing his anger.

You gasped.

His hands balled into fists, knuckles white.

“I can.” he roared.

His rage was undeniable.

“You'll stay with me! I’ll bring you anything—books, food, fucking stars if you want them—but you don’t leave.”

“Not after what happened. I won’t let you get hurt again!”

The air filled with tension as you shook your head, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“You’re not protecting me.” you cried.

“You’re suffocating me! I’m not a thing you can own jungkook!”

You paused before starting.

“I need my freedom. I can't live forever trapped here no matter how much I—”

You stopped, the word “love” caught in your throat too heavily.

His eyes narrowed, breath hitching as if he'd heard it anyway.

He steps even closer now, towering over you, his presence making your knees weak.

“You think you’re safe out there?”

He snarls.

His breath hot against your face

“The world is fucked up and you’re not for it, petal.”

“They’ll hurt you and I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

He grabs your waist, pulling you to his chest and you let out a whimper.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me? and I keep what’s mine.”

More tears spilled, your chest heaving with the reminder of his claim.

“I’m not yours.” you whispered.

The lie felt bitter on your tongue.

“I’m a person, not a possession.”

“I need to live jungkook, to breathe. And if you can’t let me, then… then maybe I—I was wrong about you.”

His brows draw together, pain flashing there and you realize you wounded him without wanting to.

His hands let you go, dropping from your waist.

“Wrong about me?”

He repeats, voice cracking.

“You think I want this? to trap you?”

“I’m trying to keep you alive to keep you from the bastards who’d hurt you because of me.”

His voice raw, eyes meeting yours.

“You’re my fucking weakness but I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Your sobs broke free loudly as you turned and ran to the bedroom—his bedroom.

Now yours as well.

You slammed the door shut and twisted the lock, making sure it was set before you sank to the floor, back against the door.

Your knees drawing to your chest as you cried.

Outside, jungkook's thoughts were a mix of everything.

He couldn’t lose you.

Not after the kidnapping, not after seeing you so broken, your lips bleeding, body bruised all over.

You were the only thing that kept his darkness from swallowing him whole but you were slipping away.

He felt it.

Your need for freedom something he couldn’t ignore for long.

He knew it.

He pounded the door with his fists angrily.

“Open the door.” he demanded.

The wood of the door almost breaking under his rough hits.

“Don’t do this to me baby. Don’t shut me out.”

You didn’t answer, your sobs muffled.

Even though he was away now, he was everywhere in every corner of this room.

Every corner of your being.

You clutched your knees, nails digging into your palms, the pain helping to distract you.

You wanted to run to him.

To fall in his arms and to let his darkness consume you once again.

But you couldn’t.

Not if it meant losing yourself, your own life.

You were torn between love and wanting freedom.

jungkook slumped against the door, forehead pressing to the wood, breaths ragged as his hands were now shaking from the heavy pounds.

He couldn’t risk you in a world that had already tried to break you.

But your tears, your pleas were like knives in his chest.

And for the first time.

He wondered if keeping you meant destroying you.

Pushing you further away from him.

The thought brought out a pained growl from him, his fist hitting the door one last time before he stormed away.

۶ৎ

Your body felt heavy when you woke slightly.

The room was dim and you lay in his bed, your chest empty, the sheets tangling around you.

“no”

A single word that shattered all your hopes, locking you in his world.

His obsession.

The door creaked open and before you could fully understand what was happening, a strong sensation jolted you awake fully.

A buzz pressing against your pussy.

Your eyes snapped open, a loud gasp escaping your throat as you found jungkook above you.

His sudden presence felt like a demon from your nightmare.

His eyes were pitched black, hair clinging to his forehead damp with sweat and his lips curled into a sneer.

Your eyes fell down as you saw a sleek black vibrator in his hand, its tip glistening with your arousal.

“hnnngh oh god—”

Your pussy already swollen with slick that you hadn’t acknowledged and he pressed the vibrator even closer.

Shockwaves of pleasure intensely went through you, that it was almost painful.

Your hips jerked, thighs trembling as you tried to close them to stop the overwhelming assault.

But jungkook's free hand held you tight, fingers digging, pinning your thighs to the bed.

“Don’t.” he growls.

His voice was filled with anger, something deeper, something wounded.

“You don’t get to run from this.”

“Ungh!”

A keening wail escaped you as your hands pushed at his chest, nails scraping his shirt.

“jungkook, stop!” you sobbed.

Your heart pounding with a mix of hurt and desire.

“I’m angry, I’m hurt, please!”

Your strength was nothing against his.

Your palms useless against his strong frame, his body trapping you beneath him.

The vibrator pressed harder, its tip circling your clit in a way that made you see white as your bud throbbed angrily.

Your walls clenching, aching to be filled

Your arousal dripped down your thighs and onto the sheets, your head spinning.

His eyes flashed as he leaned closer, lips brushing your ear.

“You think you can stay mad at me?” he grumbles.

“You think you can push me away, lock yourself in here and I’ll just let you, huh?”

Your tears spilled faster, your loud broken sobs filling the room.

The vibrator shifted, its tip pressing directly against your clit and it was so intense your back arched, a scream tearing from your throat.

“jungkook, please!” you wailed

Your hips rocking despite your protests chasing the pleasure, the torment of the vibrator had your pussy dripping faster as you reached the edge.

Your thighs shook, breaths coming in short gasps as you surrendered to the pleasure.

He watched you.

His eyes unblinking, drinking in every tremble, every cry, his own chest heaving, seeing you experiencing pleasure was like getting pleased himself.

His free hand slid between your legs, not being able to help himself.

His calloused fingers probed your entrance, teasing the slick folds before plunging two inside.

You screamed at the delicious burn, walls clenching around him.

So tight, so wet.

The sound of your arousal so lewd as he thrust his fingers, curling to hit that inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Mmm fuck, you’re soaked.”

His eyes locked on your pussy, staring at how it sucked him in.

“Look at you fighting me but fucking my fingers like a naughty girl.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest.

You whimpered at the shame, your head thrashing left and right against the pillow, hands clawing at his arm.

Nails drawing blood.

But he didn’t even flinch, his focus on making you cum relentless.

His fingers pumped fast and hard, pressing against your spot with every thrust as he held the vibrator against your clit.

You were going mad.

Now uttering nonsense, nothing made sense and it felt like you're gonna die like this.

The pleasure pain was too much, body shaking.

“I can’t hahh.”

“It’s too much, please please.”

“You can.”

He spoke, voice now soft but no less commanding.

“You will. Let go, petal. Show me how much you need this.”

His fingers thrust deeper, curling constantly as his other hand adjusted the angle of the vibrator and you let out a final wail.

Your climax crashing over you.

Your pussy squirted, soaking his hands, the sheets and yourself in the process.

You basically go mindless.

You didn’t know what was happening, your body not realizing that it squirted for the first time

Wave after wave of ecstasy left you trembling.

But he didn’t stop.

He held your folds open with his fingers and pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, your poor bud so sensitive it hurt.

Each relentless vibration felt like a needle being pierced.

Your hands pushing at him, your legs kicking but he held you down.

“jungkook. jungkook”

You chanted, begging for mercy.

Your voice was hoarse as he plunged three fingers inside you, stretching you even further.

Your arousal dripped down his wrist.

“It hurts please, no more!”

You were getting way too overstimulated.

“You can take it… you have taken my cock, which is even bigger yeah?” he coos darkly.

He knew exactly how much to push you, knowing your body too well—even better than you.

And he's also given you the free rein to use the safeword whenever you want, he would never push you over your limits.

“You’ll come again for me.”

“I need to see it, need to feel it.” he hums.

Your pussy clenched tight, every nerve of your body felt like it was on fire as you moaned.

Your hips rocking, chasing the pleasure pain.

Your body betraying your mind.

He leans down, his lips crashing onto yours, tongue swallowing all your noises, his teeth grazing your lower lip.

“I hate this.” he murmurs.

“I hate that you’re mad and hurting. I can’t stand it.”

His words cut through your hurt and you sobbed into his kiss, your hands clutching his shirt.

Your body trembling as the pleasure built again, unstoppable.

Your second climax hit even harder.

Your body went numb as your cunt squirted again, cries muffling against his lips.

You felt like you'd break.

The walls spasming around his fingers, the stretch a delicious agony, your cum soaking everything and the smell of your arousal was everywhere.

Your body was boneless, mouth agape with drool trickling down your cheek as you clung to him.

Heart pounding.

He finally stopped, pulling the vibrator away, his fingers slipping out coated with your cum.

He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes never leaving yours.

A predator savoring his kill.

You struggled to breathe, eyes dilated.

Your tears fell still, the aftershocks hitting you hard.

He grabbed your cheeks, grip firm.

“You have no right to be angry at me,” he rasps with emotion.

“I will never let you cry from pain or sadness. The only tears you're allowed to shed are from this—from pleasure, from me.”

“Do you understand?”

You fisted his shirt, tears soaking it, your heart torn.

“I’m scared.” you whisper in a small voice.

“Of what this means, of what you’re doing to me.”

His eyes softened a bit, thumb brushing your tears away.

You sank into him.

Your body exhausted and your pussy was still throbbing as the vibrator lay discarded, but the feel of its buzz felt like it still lingered.

A pleasure that your body willingly enjoyed.

And the cage he’d built.

You were his and he was yours.

It was a truth that will soon ruin you both.

“There’s nothing to be scared of as long as I’m here…”

Those are the last words you hear from him before you give in to sleep.

۶ৎ

The night was alive as jungkook's bike rumbled through the empty streets.

You held onto him, arms wrapped around his waist, fingers digging into his leather jacket.

The wind whipped through your hair and you wore his hoodie upon his command to protect you from the cold.

Your chest pressed against his back as you felt his hard muscles warming you.

This was freedom, a rare escape.

Your heart raced not from fear but the thrill of him and this, how alive he makes you feel.

How he saves you in his own way.

His silence felt charged with unspoken promises.

You tightened your hold, your cheek resting on his back and the bike's rumble soothing you.

And for a moment you were just a girl on a ride with a man who consumed your every thought, your every breath.

He pulled up at your apartment, stopping the bike and jungkook got off first, his movements quick.

He offered you his hand, fingers engulfing yours as you slid off the bike, legs unsteady from the ride.

His touch didn’t leave you, his eyes scanning you, making sure you were whole.

Untouched by the world's cruelty.

Always making sure.

Putting your comfort and safety above everything.

Inside your apartment, it felt like it was the same, like you never even left it for so long, the terror of what happened the last time you were here felt like it never happened.

The air was clean, the smell of your favorite candle present that you didn’t even lit.

Your books were neatly stacked, that was once a mess, your blankets were folded neatly and kept on the couch.

The rug that was stained with blood was gone.

Someone put so much effort into taking care of your place like it was something precious.

The space felt like you yet not—too perfect.

Something that was done with the hands of a man that was only capable of violence, but your home spoke of his gentleness.

Of his care and devotion while you were absent.

jungkook took care of your things like they were his own, erasing everything that tainted them.

You couldn’t breathe from this, from everything.

From the efforts he puts in and the love he shows but never admits to.

You turned to him, heart fluttering as your eyes welled with tears, bottom lip quivering.

“You did this.” you whisper.

“You made it… mine again.”

He steps closer.

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, lowly.

“But you need to promise me something.”

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin.

“When I say you need to come to my place, you come. No questions. No hesitation.”

You nodded, breath catching but a small boldness filled your chest.

You tilted your head, lips curving into a coy smile.

“You put all these locks and these cameras.” you say, playfully.

“But they won’t keep you out, will they?”

A growl left his throat, the sound possessive.

“Not even the world’s strongest security can keep me away from you.”

His hand slides down your waist to your ass, cupping it and pulling you closer.

You let out a squeak.

“You’re mine petal. Always.”

A shiver ran down your spine, all his words were the truth of the depth of his obsession for you.

You spent the rest of the time with him.

He sat on your couch manspreading as always, his arm draped over its back, a cigarette was left unlit between his fingers since his focus was on you.

A little too much.

You moved around him, your body hyperaware of his gaze, goosebumps erupting all over your skin as you made tea.

You talked, voice soft, about nothing and everything—your classes, a book you'd read, your favorite weather.

You always talked and he listened intently even if they were such random things.

And you realize exactly how much you appreciated it, how in your life you never had anyone

Who just listened.

A rare smile tugged on his lips, softening his sharp face.

The air shifted when you set the tea down.

You felt your heart race with a confidence tonight that you didn’t know how to explain.

A need to claim him as he'd claimed you.

You stepped between his legs, hands trembling as you placed them on his chest and kissed him, lips brushing his.

This is the first time you approached him when it was always him to start things or lead them, your shyness stopping you.

He froze, breath hitching.

You pulled back, cheeks flushing and he stared at you hungrily with a look that was almost primal.

“Don’t stop.” he husks out.

A plea in his voice

You kissed him again, harder, not holding back this time, your hands sliding under his shirt, lifting it to reveal his scarred tattooed chest.

Your lips trailed over his skin.

The faint salt of his sweat was mixed with his cologne, his muscles tensing under your lips.

His breath ragged as his hands clenched the couch to keep from grabbing you and taking control.

You kissed his collarbone, your breath shaky, placing small kisses, reaching his throat.

Your hands feeling his hard muscles, each kiss was your own way of worshipping him.

For the man who'd broken you.

Who'd made you whole.

Your eyes caught the tattoo—your name over his heart, a mark from when you were taken.

Tears glisten in your eyes.

Your chest tightened and you leaned forward, pressing your lips against it, tongue coming out to trace the letters.

“You did this for me.”

You whispered, tears falling onto his chest.

“I missed you.”

His voice raw as he cupped your face, wiping your tears away.

“When you were gone, I thought I’d die. This was all I had left of you.”

You kissed lower, expressing your feelings through actions, lips brushing on his hard muscles as you looked at the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach.

He was gorgeous.

A man carved from pain, all the scars on his body told stories of his survival and struggles.

Your heart raced as you unbuttoned his pants, your hands shaking.

He lifted his hips, letting you slide them down with his underwear.

His cock springs free, thick and intimidating, you’ve seen it several times before but not so close.

It was massive with veins pulsing, his head leaking precum.

You huffed shakily, your pussy clenching at the memory of how he'd stretched you, taken your virginity and filled you so completely you'd forgotten your own name.

“Go on.” he hums.

Amused eyes locked on yours.

“Do what you want petal.”

You hesitate, cheeks burning.

“What do you like?”

Your voice small, your innocence a big difference to his hunger.

He laughed darkly, the sound making you shiver.

“Just breathe near my cock and I’ll fucking cum… you’re that perfect.”

You blushed, biting your lower lip as you tentatively wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him.

Slow and unsure.

You felt him throb, cock twitching at your touch.

His balls were heavy as you cupped them, your fingers exploring.

You kissed the tip, the precum salty against your tongue and he groans, his head falling back, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

Your thighs pressing together to reduce the ache in your core at the sight.

He wanted to remain patient and let you take things at your own pace but it was hard, his hands clenching the couch so hard it creaked.

You took him into your mouth, the taste of him almost too much—a unique taste that was so him.

You sucked, tongue swirling around the head, your cheeks hollowing as you tried to take him deeper.

He was too big.

And your eyes watered, making you choke but you didn’t stop, your need to please him overriding everything.

“shitt.”

He growls, hips twitching, fighting the urge to thrust, to fist your hair and fuck that pretty small mouth.

“Goddamn baby.” he grunts.

“You’re literally killing me, hmm yes… so fucking good.”

You teased him, tongue tracing the veins.

Your hands stroke what your mouth couldn’t take and he snarls, not being able to take your ministrations any longer.

And feeling your mouth and hands on him for the first time was his undoing.

He came with a roar, his cum hotly filling your throat and you sputtered, trying to keep up.

You swallowed, your own pussy dripping, the act of pleasing him was making your mind hazy with need.

He panted, eyes wild as he sees you not miss a single drop, cleaning everything like the perfect girl you are.

He saw red, his control snapping.

He can't hold back anymore.

He throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing making you squeal, something he has done several times before.

Manhandling you as he pleases.

Taking you to the bedroom that he’s cared for and kept clean because it was yours.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed, your wrists caught in his hand and you panted at the sudden action.

His body caging yours.

He took your clothes off at such a fast pace you forgot to breathe, leaving you bare for him.

Your pussy already soaked, clit pulsing and he didn’t waste any time before he dove between your legs.

He was filled with animal need.

He sucked your clit, teeth grazing just enough to make you scream.

“Ahh, jungkook!” you cried.

Your hips bucking, fisting the sheets

He growls against you, the vibration leaving your lips parted, tongue fucking your pussy, lapping up your slick like a starved man.

Your clit was way too swollen and sensitive and when he bites a bit harder this time, your entire body lifts off the bed, a wail leaving your lips.

“Goshh nghh—”

He pulled you up, positioning you in a 69 position, barely letting you breathe and controlling your body how he pleased.

Your face was over his cock as your dripping cunt hovered over his mouth.

“Take my cock inside your slutty mouth.” he gruffs out.

You let out a mewl and followed his command, wrapping your lips around him, your throat burning already.

His cock was hard again, like he barely softened in the first place.

He connects his mouth to your pussy again, tongue and teeth grazing your overstimulated clit.

His hands gripping your thighs, not letting you run away.

You sobbed around his cock, not being able to keep up with his pace, your tears falling on his cock and mixing with his precum.

“Go on, don’t stop.” he grumbles.

His palm gave you a spank on your butt cheek when you stopped and he started thrusting, fucking your mouth.

“Mmph!”

You gagged, tears streaming, your hands stroking as you remained still, letting him use your mouth and his constant sucks had you very close to cumming.

But he didn’t let you.

“Nooo.” you sniffle, pouting.

It was like he was playing a twisted game and you were stuck in his torment.

“Patience.” he orders, roughly.

He flipped you on all fours on the bed.

You're boneless and weak.

You felt like a rag doll for his pleasure.

Your pussy wet and clenching around nothing, your ass up, face pressed to the mattress.

He thrusts into you from behind without any warning and you were so slick that made him sink deep inside you in one smooth motion.

The stretch was quick and intense, making you let out a broken cry, biting into the sheets.

“You’re so tight.” he huffs.

His hands gripping your hips.

“Always so tight even after getting fucked almost every day, yeah?”

The bed creaked with the force of his fast thrusts.

“Hahh jungkook.”

You called out, drooling on the bed.

His cock hits your spot perfectly and each thrust of his was bringing out expletives from your mouth.

Your climax was building fast after being denied of it for so long.

His eyes were locked on your bouncing ass, watching your tight cunt take him so perfectly as he spanks you again, your skin getting red.

You clenched on him, toes curling.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” he orders.

And you did.

Your body reacting instinctively to his words.

Your pussy spasmed, cum soaking him, your pleas filling the air.

He thrusts hard a few more times and comes deep inside you, his cum coating your inner walls as you gasp for breath.

Owning every part of you.

The room was heavy with the scent of sweat and sex.

He pulls out slowly, making you whimper at the loss and lies beside you, his own breathing ragged, chest rising and falling as he pulls you in his arms.

Your body was shaking with aftershocks—both your bodies slick with sweat and cum.

Your skin tingling from where his hands had groped, spanked, and used.

The bed was a tangle of sheets beneath you both as your nails dug into his chest, your heart beating wildly.

He shifted, his eyes still dark from the passion from before but they softened as they met yours, a tenderness there.

“You okay, petal?” he breathes.

The care in his voice makes your chest tighten.

His hand reached for you, fingers brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized was still there from when you'd cried.

Not from pain but from how dazed you were by everything he's made you feel.

You nodded, throat aching from earlier.

“Yea…” you whisper.

Your lips swollen from his kisses, his cock.

“Just… a lot.”

He hummed and sat up, his muscles flexing but now his touch was gentle as he pulled you into his lap.

Your head resting under his chin

His warmth always a cocoon for you, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your cheek.

His one hand stroked your back, the other cradling your head, fingers threading through your hair

Untangling your sweaty strands gently.

You hum, melting into him.

“Stay here.”

He says after a few moments and you nodded, too spent to move, pussy sore in the sweetest way.

He eased you onto the bed, propping a pillow under your head.

You watched your eyes half lidded, close to sleep, as he moved to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm damp cloth, kneeling beside you, his eyes scanning your body, not with lust now but with a protectiveness.

Looking at your marks and bruises.

“Gonna clean you up.” he said, gently.

You were too tired to talk, but your legs parted for him.

Your trust a constant thing for him.

The cloth was soothing as he pressed it to your inner thighs wiping away the slickness of your cum and his sticking there.

You let out a contented noise, he moves to your pussy and you gasped at the contact, your oversensitive pussy quivering.

“Shh.”

He soothes you.

His free hand resting on your stomach, thumb stroking the skin there.

“Let me take care of you.”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching, and you gave a small nod, your lips parting in a sign as he cleaned you.

The warmth of the towel easing the ache, his actions a stark contrast to his earlier wildness.

He discarded the cloth, grabbing a bottle of lotion from the nightstand, your usual floral scented one as he squeezed some into his palm.

His hands were strong as he massaged it into your skin, starting at your thighs, fingers kneading your tense muscles, working out the soreness.

You mewl, burying your face in the pillow, his touch grounding you.

“My pretty girl.” he rasps, almost to himself.

His hands cupping your ass and massaging the redness from his spanks.

He moved to the rest of your body, his hands worshipping as always, and you purr under his attention, eyes fluttering closed.

Your own hand reached up to hold onto him.

As your hand brushed the tattoo on his chest, he stopped.

“This,” he grumbles.

“This is forever. You’re forever.”

You reached for him, hands threading in his hair.

“I know…” you croon.

Your voice trembling

He leans down, lips brushing against yours and his tongue enters your mouth, kissing you, his hands cupping your face, coaxing small noises from you.

He pulled back, grabbing a glass of water from the nightstand.

“Drink.” he said, firmly.

This soft, dominating and authoritative aura he had even outside sex when he had to look after you.

Your hands shaky as you took the glass, his fingers steadying it.

The water was refreshing, helping your raw throat, and he watched, eyes dark, ensuring you drank every drop.

He took the empty glass, setting it aside and pulled you back into his arms as you lay against his chest.

Your naked body pressed to his, nipples that were still hard brushing against his skin.

The contact intimate.

He grabbed the blanket, draping it over you both.

His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You both lay there savoring the silence.

“You scared me today.” he admitted.

“Taking charge like that, kissing me, sucking me off… fuck baby, you drive me crazy.”

You smiled against his chest.

“I wanted to.” you say, shyly.

“I wanted to make you feel… like you make me feel.”

You curled closer, your body fitting perfectly against his, legs tangling, your hand resting over the tattoo.

You drifted to sleep safe and warm.

In the arms of the man who's your haven as much as you are his

۶ৎ

You were in jungkook's cabin, keeping the promise that you will be here with him whenever he wants you to.

Tonight you were filled with a purpose, heart fluttering as you moved through the kitchen.

You’ve decided to surprise jungkook and cook his favorite dish—a recipe you’ve learned from watching him.

The kitchen was small but it still felt like home, a part of you, just like it was his, and you were busy cutting the vegetables.

Your hair was tied back in a loose bun, with a few strands escaping it to frame your flushed cheeks, and you wore one of jungkook's oversized t-shirts.

The act of cooking for him, of doing something so domestic, made your chest swell with something you hadn’t known you could ever feel for a man like him.

A man whose hands were stained with blood but whose heart beat.

For you.

You hummed softly as you plated the cooked meat and rice once you were done, each dish cooked with care.

Once you were done setting the food on the table, you stepped back, hands clasping as you smiled brightly, thinking of jungkook's reaction.

His dark eyes softening just for you, a small smirk that made your heart skip.

You wanted to give him this.

A moment of normalcy, after everything he has done for you.

The door creaked open and your head snapped up, your smile wide.

But the sight of jungkook stole the air from your lungs, your joy fading in an instant.

He stood in the doorway, black leather jacket slick with rain and something else—blood splattered across his chest and his hands.

His knuckles were raw, blood oozing from there.

His face was calm, eyes normal as if the blood clinging to him was just as mundane as a simple day.

Like it didn’t affect him at all.

He casually took off his boots, the blood staining against the softness of your shared space.

Your hands trembled as the serving spoon slipped from your fingers, falling against the counter.

Tears welled in your eyes as the memory of that day flooded back—the day he'd saved you, his knife plunging into the man who'd taken you.

Too much blood everywhere.

It painted the walls in red and jungkook's face was unrecognizable, like his soul wasn't even there.

You'd seen him kill.

You've seen the beast he could become and it terrified you.

And now here he was, bloodied again, the strong smell of blood taking away the smell of the meal you'd poured your heart into.

“Why?”

You let out a shaky breath before stepping back, hands clutching the edge of the counter for support.

“Why do you keep doing this, jungkook? That blood—it's someone else's isn't it? You killed again, didn’t you?”

He froze, eyes narrowing.

A flicker of something—anger, guilt—crossed his face before it hardened once again.

He tossed his jacket onto the couch and turned to you, voice low.

“He was tied to your kidnapping,” he said.

“I had to. You think I’d let anyone who hurt you walk free?”

Your tears finally spilled down, your heaving chest.

“Stop it.” you cried.

Your voice rising as you balled your hands into fists

“Just stop, jungkook! I can’t live like this knowing you’re out there killing, becoming that… that thing I saw!”

You yelled, raising your voice at him for the first time.

“You were a monster that day, covered in blood, stabbing him until there was nothing left! It scared me, it still scares me! I—I’m begging you, please just stop this!”

His anger overcame him in full force.

“You think I can stop huh?” he bellowed.

“Killing is who I am! It’s in my fucking being, a part of me ever since I was a kid!”

A sob left your mouth as you covered your mouth to hide it.

“I protect you and I’ll burn this entire fucking city to keep you safe! you want me to be something I'm not? some soft, gentle man who holds your hand and writes you love letters?—”

He pauses before continuing.

“That’s not me petal and it will never be!”

You flinched as you inhaled sharply, backing against the counter.

“I don’t want you to be someone else.” you sniffled.

“I just want you to stop killing, to stop letting it consume you.”

“I saw what you did jungkook. I saw you lose yourself and it scares me! I can't love a man who's always drowning in blood... w—who's turning into a killer every time he thinks he's protecting me!”

You weren’t aware of what you were saying, but you spoke whatever was in your heart and you didn’t hold back.

His eyes flashed at your words, his face a mix of pain and rage.

His jaw was clenching so tight he thought it might crack.

He took a step towards you.

“Love?” he spat.

As if the word were a curse.

“You think love changes anything? I don’t believe in love and I told you that!”

“It’s a lie, dammit and it’s for the weak. What I feel for you is greater than that, and I kill for you because I’d rather die than see you hurt again.”

He looked at you intensely, not breaking eye contact, his brows peaking in the center as if this argument was hurting him as much as it was hurting you.

“You want me to stop? then you're asking me to stop breathing, to stop being me.”

Your knees buckled, your hands covering your face as you sank to the floor, weeping.

“I can’t,” you pleaded.

“I can’t keep living like this jungkook. Keep seeing blood everywhere and living with the fear that you’re becoming something I don’t recognize.” you whimper.

“Please just…try. For me,”

He towered over you, blood dripping onto the floor from his fists.

For a moment you thought he might soften.

He might kneel and pull you into his arms.

But he didn’t.

“You think I haven’t tried? every fucking day I try to be better for you to keep the darkness away, but it's who I am.”

He exhales roughly.

“I kill because it’s the only way I know to protect you, to make sure no one ever touches you again! you want me to stop huh? I can’t change and I won’t lie to you and pretend I can!”

A silence follows after that, you stayed on the floor, tears not stopping, your heart broken.

He turned after that, his footsteps stomping to the bathroom and the door slammed loudly.

After a few moments, you could hear the shower running.

The dinner still remained forgotten, all the happiness from before snuffed out.

You crawled to the bed, body heavy and the sheets, as always, smelled of him, of you, a cruel reminder of the life you'd built together.

A life that was crumbling now.

You lay there silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling, hiccups leaving your lips from the cries and you soon fell asleep.

۶ৎ

You wake up to the feel of jungkook's body sliding over you and the room was even darker now, which hinted that it was late at night.

You lie beneath him, your half closed eyes fixed on his as he takes off your clothes to leave you bare for him.

Your skin flushes at his proximity.

You can smell his shampoo from when he took a shower a few hours earlier.

He moved over you, eyes locking with yours with an intensity that stole your breath as his hands cupped your face, brushing against your tear streaked cheeks.

His expression was desperate and pained.

“You belong to me.” he growls.

As if saying the words could somehow tether you to him forever.

Almost like he was convincing himself.

“No matter what, petal”

Your lips parted, a sob caught in your throat.

“jungkook,” you croaked.

“I can’t… I can't do this. I can’t let you ruin yourself for me.”

His eyes darkened farther, a hurt in his features but he didn’t respond, not with words.

Instead, he kissed you slow and deep, capturing your lips hungrily as you wept, tongue silencing your cries.

His tongue tracing your mouth, tasting the salt of your tears and how you surrender to him so easily.

You melted into him once more.

The last time.

Your hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging, clinging to the man who'd become your whole life.

Even as you knew you had to let him go

He shifted, settling between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against you.

Your pussy soaking for him because it was so used to him now, sensing him like every part of your body.

He didn’t rush his movements, it was slow almost reverent.

As if both your bodies just knew this would be the last time they connect.

Even though he wasn’t aware of what's going to happen.

“Look at me,” he commands.

“Don’t hide from me… not now.”

You met his gaze, eyes wide with unshed tears.

“I’m scared for you, of us, of what you’ll become if I stay.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment you thought he might break, might let the walls around his heart down.

Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“You can’t love me.”

He says, like he can hear the words without you saying them.

“I’m not made for it but fuck, do I need you. I need you more than I need anything.”

Like he cant breathe without you.

The words twisted your heart even more but you didn’t pull away.

You couldn’t.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, pussy clenching with need.

With the desperate desire to hold onto him.

Even if just for this night.

He groans lowly as he feels your heat and readiness and he positions himself, the head of his cock nudging your entrance.

“Tell me you’re mine.” he demands.

Eyes searching yours for the answer he wants.

“I’m yours.”

Your voice breaks as you look away.

Tears soaking the sheets, you couldn’t look at him and lie.

“Always jungkook”

He then thrusts into you slowly and you gasp, your walls welcoming him easily.

You arched into him, hips rising to meet his.

“Fuck baby.” he signs.

His voice thick as he grabs one of your hands and pins it beside your head, intertwining both your hands together.

You moaned, your free hand sliding up his back, feeling his muscles and scars for the last time.

Your pussy pulsed around him with each of his thrusts, your nipples brushing against his chest with each thrust.

“mhmm ohh—”

You whine.

The position was intimate, his weight pinning you, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt every inch of him, the rhythm of thrusts slow and deep, unlike other times when he takes you hard and fast.

“jungkook!”

Your voice high and needy.

“Ohh god… yeah.”

He leans down, his teeth biting your earlobe, making you squirm.

“Take it baby.” he says hoarsely.

His deep thrusts pounded you and it was hitting your spot.

Each movement a promise, a plea and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, moans rising every time he hits your sweet spot again and again.

“Yeah? you like it there?” he scoffs.

Your pussy clenches on him tightly at his words, drawing a groan from his lips.

His eyes never leaving your face, looking at all your reactions, his hips moving according to your noises, knowing exactly how to please you.

“You’re so beautiful.”

His voice softer now, almost broken.

His words pushed you over the edge, your clit pulsing almost painfully as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your cum soaking him.

“Nghh, jungkook!” you sobbed.

Nails raking his back, your toes curling, heart thudding with the force of your release.

He looked at your bouncing breasts, groping one and pinching the nipple between his fingers, making you wail.

He kept going, thrusts harder now, chasing his own climax, overstimulating you in the process, his eyes locked on yours.

“I can’t lose you.” he growls.

The wet slap of skin against skin was an obscene noise in the room, along with the headboard hitting the wall.

“I won’t survive it, petal.”

His hips slam onto you one last time before his cum fills you, mixing with your own, and the sensation was overwhelming—something he can never tire of.

Your pussy milked him.

Your teeth sank into his shoulder as a second orgasm ripped through you, so intense you saw stars.

Your tears falling.

He collapsed onto you his weight heavy but grounding, arms wrapping around you.

His lips left open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach against your skin, along with your lips.

You clung to him, tears soaking his skin.

Your moans faded into soft whimpers and he didn't pull out just yet, your pussy throbbing around his softening cock.

He thought your tears were from pleasure from your connection, but they were from something deeper—a farewell you couldn’t voice.

You memorized him—the heat of his skin and the steady beat of his heart against yours.

You traced the tattoo of your name, fingers lingering as you leaned down, lips brushing it.

A brand of you that he will carry even in your absence.

You lay on his chest, his arms around you and you soon felt his breaths slowing, his face relaxed as he fell asleep.

You look at him, asleep, he looks younger, almost innocent.

Not a murder, not a monster.

Just jungkook.

The man who'd loved you in his twisted, obsessive way.

Though he never believes in the existence of love.

You watched him, your heart full, pussy still warm, dripping with his cum because he filled you to the brim.

But your thoughts were all over the place.

If you stayed, he'd keep killing, his darkness would keep on growing and growing.

Killing you both in the process.

You'd seen it—the blood, the knife, the man's lifeless body that jungkook took away.

He'd turn into something even he couldn’t recognize.

And the worst part.

You'd be his weakness, a chain that will drag him further into committing crimes.

Before you, he'd been unstoppable, a man without any weakness, no one to hold onto, no one that would break him.

He needed to be that again.

For his survival, for yours.

You couldn’t be the reason that will eventually get him killed, you couldn’t let your love blind him like this.

You slipped from his arms, slowly, your body still weak from the sex.

You dressed silently, body trembling.

You packed your things—whatever you could find near you—your clothes, some of your medical textbooks and other necessary items.

You also take the pink teddy bear he’d given you, you couldn’t leave it behind.

It will be a comfort you could cling to in the days to come.

When you missed him, needed something and felt lonely.

Your eyes finally fell on the money you'd saved tucked in a small bag, enough to get you far from this city.

From him.

You stood over him, covering your mouth to stifle the sob that wanted to escape you, the cry of heartbreak.

He slept unaware, his lips slightly parted, tattooed arm flung across the place where you'd been.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his, careful not to wake him as you kissed him softly.

Tasting him—salt and smoke, hoping to keep it in your memory as long as you can.

“I love you.” you whispered.

For the first time vocalizing about it.

A confession to the man who'd never hear.

“I’m sorry… I have to do this. For us”

Your hand lingered on his chest, tracing his skin as your body shook with a sob again.

The pain of leaving him felt like a physical ache, sharper than anything you’ve felt.

You grabbed his black hoodie, that carried his scent.

A piece of him to hold onto.

You slipped out, not looking back anymore, you feared you would change your mind and get back in his arms.

Forgetting everything.

The door closes with a soft click.

You walked, your mind numb, until you stopped at the bus station, you boarded once the bus came, bag clutched to your chest.

The city went past, everything fading, a place that once held your love.

The obsession jungkook held for you slipping away.

You cried, your sobs muffled by the hoodie.

Your body curled into itself, the scent of him the only thing you have to cling onto.

You prayed he'd live.

That he’d find his way back to the shadow he’d been, that he wouldn’t ruin himself for you.

You prayed you'd survive this empty space in your heart, an absence that will always be there for the man who'd been your everything.

A home you never had.

But the road stretched on.

Leaving everything behind, a piece of you left with him forever.

───���

taglist: @wintaemoonjen @minewlove @chaelvrx @nanisblogg @slutology00 @kelsyx33 @furioustrashlover @jjeonjjk7 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @asyr97 @ttanniett @bratzdaull @yunhoswrldddd @jeonzll @endlesslysassy @elmarimochi9513 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lisax-30 @moodytangerine @taetaecatboy @katwiththatrat @yikes-ukiyo @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @flutterguk @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @universallywizardkoala @kookxin @mageprincess7 @satisfied18 @existentialzaddy @strawberryberrygirl @tranquilreign @honeybearmin @melooooosusupp @thvflowr @granataepfelchen @cherricherryy @tatamicc @minghaosimp @kooko009 @clrwonuu @withmuchluv-tannie

[madeupinmyhead]

Introducing dbf!matty x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age-gap (reader is 22 and Matty is 38), oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing, reader is afab!

A/N: this is just my inner whore coming out. pure filth basically. Enjoy x

wc: 1995 ao3 link

love-struck went straight to my head <3

You get into the car, huffing out a sigh as you buckle up. “Thanks for coming to get me.” You said, turning your head to look at Matty. Your dad’s best friend and the man who invaded your deepest and dirtiest thoughts and your dreams at night. His greying curls were messy, a few falling into his eyes. You wanted to reach over and touch them. You hadn’t had anything to drink tonight, but you hadn’t even driven yourself. You were supposed to be the DD, but then your friends left you.

“Well, your friend ditched you and your parents said they were already in bed. I was just working at home anyways.” Matty replied as he put the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway. “You know I’ll always come when you need me.” He adds, turning onto the main road and taking the route back to your house.

You nod. He did always come when you needed him in the now two years that he and your father have been best friends.

He was always around your house too. He wasn’t married and didn’t have any children so when he wasn’t working your father and him would hang out. Usually working on home projects or watching sports. You liked when Matty was around.

As Matty drove, you gazed at him watching as he focused on the road, glancing into the mirrors every so often. It was a Friday night and the roads were busy. There was a curl in his face and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached over and gently pushed it from his eyes.

He stole a quick look at you, a smile tugging on his lips. “Thank you, love.”

You grin at him, your cheeks turning pink at just the nickname. He always called you love and darling and both nicknames always had you blushing. You continued staring at him, your brain beginning to fill with thoughts that always seemed to make their way in.

The day you met Matty you thought he was one of the most attractive men you’d ever met. He had come over one Saturday to watch a football game with your dad. You hated watching sports, but after seeing the man sitting on the sofa you brought your laptop and homework from your political science class into the living room and made yourself comfortable on the chair opposite of where Matty was sitting, working, but also stealing glances at him.

It didn’t take long for you to develop quite the crush on Matty. You would always hang around him, asking him silly questions about things and using any moment you could to be near him. He never questioned it. And your father seemed to be oblivious.

You enjoyed innocently teasing Matty as well. Wearing your cutest dresses and outfits, frolicking around. Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you and you weren’t sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if maybe he felt the same way you did. You wanted him so badly. You wished he’d just grab you, kiss you, touch you.

“y/n.” Matty saying your name had you snapping out of your thoughts. You hadn’t meant to zone out. “You seem a bit distracted.”

Matty reaches over, gently placing his hand on your thigh. Your eyes snap down to your lap. This was certainly new. You lift your eyes back up and you catch Matty’s eyes as he glances at you. “You okay?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You nod.

Matty raises a brow and you watch as a smirk appears on his face. “Wanna tell me what you’re thinking about, darlin’?” He asks, his voice dropping a bit. He focuses back on the road. “Come on, love, just tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

The air in the car was heavy now. Thick with what could only be described as lust, as least on your side. The way Matty spoke had you thinking it might not just be you.

“I’m just thinking…” You begin speaking. You weren’t sure how you wanted to play this. You could lie and say you weren’t thinking about him pulling over and taking you in the backseat. You could say you were just tired. Or you could be honest and risk getting rejected. not only make the rest of the drive awkward, but make things awkward the next time Matty is at your house too. Which would probably be in the next few days.

Fuck it.

Instead of speaking you reached over yourself, placing your hand on Matty’s leg, fingers lightly moving towards the top of his jeans. You lick your lips, tilting your head ever so slightly at him.

You heard his breath hitch and it brought a playful smile to your face. “What do you think you’re doing?” He questions, but not in a bad way. He didn’t grab your hand and he didn’t try to stop you.

“Can I blow you?” You ask simply, rubbing the front of Matty’s jeans, staring down at his lap when you feel him get hard. All you wanted was to get your mouth on him.

“Christ.” Matty mutters under his breath, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. He pulls into the driveway of your house and puts the car in park. “I just got you home.” He starts. “Wha-”

You shake your head, unbuckling your seatbelt. “My parents are asleep…it’s dark out. There’s no streetlights through here… no one will see me sucking your cock.” You pout. “Please let me.” With both hands now, you unbuckle Matty’s belt and then the button of his jeans. He still didn’t stop you.

When you look up he’s staring at you, his brown eyes darker now that he was turned on. “Yeah. God, yes.” He grabs your face in both of his hands, leaning in and kissing you deep and rough. The kiss doesn’t last long and once he lets your face go he sits back, letting you take over.

With your mind reeling from the kiss it takes you a few seconds to get back on task. You unzip Matty’s jeans and slide your hand under the denim and his boxers. You felt a bit of heat run through your body when you felt how thick and big he was.

Once you managed to get his cock free from the constraints, you wasted no time in getting your mouth on him. You lean over the center console of the car, your hand wrapping around his cock, leaning down and first licking a stripe up the length of him.

You wrap your lips around his tip, sliding your head down, taking more and more. You could hear the quiet intake of breath from Matty before you felt a hand in your hair. “Fuckin’ hell.” You heard him say.

You were still in control of the pace, Matty’s hand in your hair there just for him to hold onto. You slide your mouth back up, feeling the bits of precum and buildup of spit in your mouth. It was better than you had dreamed.

Taking it slow was fun. Sliding your mouth up and down, sucking gently. You hadn’t taken all of him yet, but as you slid your head back down you decided this time you’d do it. You keep taking more and more, relaxing more as the tip hits the back of your throat.

You only gag when Matty thrusts upwards, his hand gripping your hair a bit tighter.

“Fuck, sorry.” Matty mumbles, his voice thick and deep. “Christ, your mouth is perfect.” He rambles, loosening his grip on your hair when you begin to pull off.

You lift your head, eyes wide, cheeks pink and lips puffy. You look up at him and smile, getting your breath back. “You can fuck my mouth if you want to.” You say.

Matty gently wipes your lip with his thumb, smirking down at you. He wraps one hand around himself, jerking himself for a moment before wrapping his other hand back into your hair. “Open up, darling.” He instructs, guiding your back head down and slipping his cock back into your mouth.

He grips your hair tightly in his hand, guiding your head up and down, a grunt escaping his lips as he thrusts upwards, the tip hitting the back of your throat again. He holds your head still for a moment, his breathing a bit more quick. “Good girl,” He says. “You look so good down there.” He smirks.

You look up, staring into his deep brown eyes as he fucks up into your mouth again, a choked sound leaving your throat. Your eyes begin to water as he leads your head back down, holding you still when you had all of him. Being called a good girl had you squeezing your thighs together. You were positive you were soaking wet under the cotton of your panties.

“Want me to come down your throat, darling? Gonna be a good girl and swallow it all?” Matty asks, his voice deep and breathy as he fucks your mouth.

You only hummed as an answer. Of course you wanted him to come in your mouth. You wanted to be good for him.

You could tell he was close when his breathing quickened and he let out a soft groan, his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging on it. “That’s it,” He breathes. “You’re doing so good, darling. Look at me, love.” He gently uses his other hand to rub over your cheek, wiping the tears that were starting to leak from your eyes. “Fuck, are you ready?”

You stare up at him, his eyes fixed on yours. “Fuck, fuc-” Matty mutters through grunts as he shoves his cock down your throat again. He holds your head still, hand fisting your hair roughly and then you feel it.

He comes with a low moan, the hot liquid filling your mouth and dripping down your throat. You make a choked sound and Matty slowly guides your head back up, slowly letting you pull off of him. You swallow everything that was in your mouth, staring into his eyes as you did so. As you sit back up, Matty reaches over, wiping your mouth with his thumb. “Little bit more, love.” He hums as you open your mouth and take his thumb inside, licking what was left.

“Christ, darling, you’re a dirty girl aren’t you?” Matty teases, his eyes trained on yours as you let his thumb go

You blush at his words, a playful smile appearing on your face as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off you now that I know you’re okay with this.” He mumbles, looking at you with that dumb but hot slightly crooked smile that made you want to climb on his lap and let him take you right there.

“Only around my parents…but it shouldn’t be hard to sneak away.” You tilt your head at him.

Matty turns his head, glancing at the front door of your house through the window. “Your father would kill me if he found out about this.” He says, his gaze falling back on you, eyes moving down your body. He was checking you out. It made you squirm.

“Bet you’re soaking wet, aren’t you darling?” Matty smirks. He reaches over, placing his hand on your leg, letting his fingers slide up your inner thigh so lightly. It made you shiver. You spread your legs a bit more and Matty grins at you. “One day I’m gonna fuck you, but tonight I’m gonna finger you. That alright, darling?” He asks. “Gonna be a good girl again for me?”

You nod, only mumbling a soft “I’ll be good,” before Matty is kissing you again, his hand on your thigh moving higher until he’s exactly where you wanted him to be. And then you completely melt into him.

[lasertitties]

No Child Left Behind made me hate school, and it made all of my peers hate reading. I knew how to read before school and that’s the only reason I still like it. I was 12 when Bush’s law was passed and after years of looking forward to junior high and high school, I proceeded to despise every second of both. I begged to be allowed to start college early and was finally allowed when my parents saw how stupid my assignments were my sophomore year; and how limited my AP options were.

Every teacher I loved was teaching the best shit under the radar and in a secret pact with advanced students that we wouldn’t rat them out. My engineering teacher funded our robot kits and rocketry gear himself because that had already been cut. My ag class happened in a fucking trailer because they pushed the guy out of classrooms. My programming teacher also snuck in his own supplies and I’m like 90% sure he pirated paid IDEs for us to learn on and installed them on his classroom’s computers. My history teacher used her planning and lunch periods to teach anyone who showed up voluntarily what she actually wanted to teach in secret. She had a secret fucking club where I learned vital facts like yes the fucking Civil War was about slavery and here’s how the economics went down. My cousin was in the other district and did NOT learn it that way, and it took a shouting match to pass the knowledge to her.

My AP calculus class took place in a fucking computer room and the teacher barely even tried to teach it because he was a resentful old burnout- by the time I was doing half college I had to switch over to learning math at the community college to finish my math education.

Even after doing half of my classes at community, which was my family’s way of getting me something like private school (tuition was lowered for high school students missing out on shit due to cut programs), I was STILL underprepared compared to rich kids who went to private schools by the time I went to engineering school at the state university.

And when I wasn’t at the community college, or with older teachers in physics and engineering who just didn’t give a fuck if they got fired and wanted to go out swinging? I was bored and resentful.

I watched admin cracking down, and younger teachers who still had 30 years of this ahead of them cracking up. We got our backpacks searched constantly and half my school was still on drugs, every student was treated like a criminal but if you asked one of the weed kids, the only way to make class bearable was to be high. I couldn’t even blame them much. I made school bearable by constantly flouting rules just like my favorite teachers had to. Real school was literally happening illegally in spite of the administration.

It was wild to go to the community college and see people allowed to roam and talk between periods, bathrooms having unrestricted access with no bag search, and teachers actually happy - then go back to my public high school for my AP shit and get treated like a prisoner and watch teachers lose their fucking minds or rebel.

Guns still wound up on my campus three times despite all the “security”- once from a kid who forgot he had one in the back of his truck, once from a gang kid who had no intention of using it at school but apparently needed it after, and one from a prisoner being chased by the cops who ran through my school to hide. We got put in lockdown and not a single cop came to get him, we were lucky the one actual dangerous guy didn’t give a shit about high schoolers.

My high school made me hate the United States. It made me hate authority in general. It made me hate the law. It killed my respect for any rule I didn’t see the purpose of and for the entire education system. It left me with limited study skills for university because I was unchallenged for six years before I left my backwater border town. It left me with no illusions about where racism was at in my country because the hispanic kids were treated five times worse than my little “gifted”ass was, and what’s worse is I knew three who were just as smart but ESL, which made narrow minded clowns treat them like they were stupid. I made an effort to learn some Spanish, which made me fully aware based on my dogshit fluency that the ESL kids were fundamentally more impressive with their language skills than me. My school treated being ESL like a mental disability, and only my very best teachers were cool to the ESL students who made honors and AP.

The whole experience left me with a horrible yawning pit in my soul. A feeling that everyone in a position of power was either overworked, incompetent, or a sadistic piece of shit. Which left me depressed.

Oh and since I was in a military town I got the military sold to me hardcore every second of every day and watched half of my peers get shoved into the Iraq War because they didn’t stand a chance anywhere else. It did not go well for them. I half suspect that screwing up education was done intentionally to create people desperate enough to become enlisted soldiers but I can’t prove anything.

Public school in the United States is a crime against humanity I’m dead serious.

I was today years old. That is disgusting.

No Child Left Behind is one of the worst things to ever be incentivized in schools. It was signed into law when I was 14. Reading Rainbow was my show as a kid. LeVar Burton played a big part in why I became an avid reader to date. The joy of it. It's an adventure around the globe and through different time periods without stepping on a plane or time machine.

Children parrot behavior. In grade school, I always wanted to read the same amount of books as my teachers (50 books) and managed to double that each year. Before No Child Left Behind, book fairs and Scholastic catalogs were a serious matter like your grandma's Fingerhut catalogs. Libraries were (and still are) a wonderland.

Reading comprehension and proficiency in schools has been declining for decades. A crisis. The joy of books isn't pushed anymore and I'm always saddened by it. It's one of the reasons why I post my book reviews and recommendations on here, as well as posts from others to encourage reading and (novel) writing. Kids will parrot your behavior while the education system sadly fails to return as that example.

[shifterin]

facts about my beatles dr that just make sense

john is banned from places where i'm openly welcomed. it's like being back in school where the teacher's described me as a bright young girl and a joy to have in class and john as the most disobedient, insolent child they'd ever had the misfortune of teaching. he's just too rowdy and sometimes disrespectful (usually it's earned) whereas i am well-mannered and willing to bite my tongue to keep the peace.

george and i always disappear together, no matter where we are or what we're doing, you can count on it. it's not even really a conscious decision that we make, we just get distracted by each other and lose track of time. it's kind of a running gag at this point that everyone who spends any amount of time with us picks up on. it's featured in our movies too. "oh, where have they run off to now?"

sometimes john’ll randomly start playing an instrument whenever i'm trying to focus on something just to get attention. i'll be trying to read a book and here he goes with his damn harmonica. i'm gonna hide it, i swear.

all of us steal john’s glasses frequently. none of us can see at all in them, but it never stops us. to add onto that, when he's not wearing them and can't see where he's going, george’ll purposefully lead him into a wall.

george absolutely hates going to get his hair cut, so sometimes i do it for him. just with trims, because i'm afraid of messing up too badly. i’ve done ringo’s before, too, but john and paul refuse to let me near them with the scissors. brian doesn't like it because he worries i'll ruin the iconic beatles hair, but it always turns out fine.

when we stay at hotels, i always room with my brother, george and paul room together, and ringo rooms with brian. one time, george asked john if they could switch rooms so that he could stay with me. the audacity… john refused.

whenever someone calls out ‘lennon!’, john and i both turn around and they have to clarify. they usually mean john, though. for some reason, most people will just say my first name if they mean me. almost like they respect him more, that's annoying.

[thoughtsforsoob]

Enha as nerdy!bf’s

Note: i've been rewatching the big bang theory and i'm so into it. I couldn’t stop thinking about the enha members being little nerdy bf’s so let's dive into it :) please enjoy and let me know what you think

edit: thanks to a beautiful anon I have realized I FORGOT SUNGHOON’S PART?!?! This is not intentional at all (I love him so much. His smile is so precious). His part will be added in soon! Please forgive me.

wc: ~900

Jungwon

He’s on the premed route so he's getting a bachelors in biochemistry. He drives himself nuts with homework and labs every single day and night. People are surprised that he manages to have both high grades and a very happy girlfriend, you! He always shows up to dates, even if he has to take a break from homework or even if he shows up with dark circles under his eyes. He never leaves you hanging, not his special girl. Your kindness and loyalty is really what pulls him through his difficulties. He is also so grateful that you’ll help him study and listen to him when he needs to talk. His goal is to become a doctor and then give you the lifestyle you deserve, one with nice things and happiness. 

Heesung

Math major (everyone point and laugh…jk i just hate math). He originally just wanted to study math but after becoming a substitute teacher one summer, he decided to add on the teaching part of the program into his program. He is such a sweetheart and loves helping people. He is a little insecure about his abilities sometimes but you're always there to pick him up. He is also a great tutor if you're taking any math lessons. He is the most patient math assistant you will ever come across (plus, for every right answer you get, it's one more kiss he owes you!). When he’s a teacher, he gets so excited when you come to assist with little class parties. It may not be math related but seeing you in his element sparks something inside of him.   

Jay

I hate to say it but jay is so business major coded. His official major is of course business but he chose to have his emphasis in finance, therefore making him a fiance bro. Jay can be a little bit of a dickhead but that is only because he's constantly surrounded by them. You met him when you were visiting your advisor, whose office happened to be in the business building. You ran into Jay, causing him to drop his bag and water bottle. At first, he freaked out but when he pulled his head out of his ass, he realized you were both beautiful and injured. He quickly helped you up and rushed you to the campus health center. Once you were better, he asked you on a date to repay you for being an asshole and it went from there. Even if on occasion he still acts like a meanie, he loves you and wants you to know he never means any ill will. 

Jake

Jake would be the cutest little nerd. He wears these big, square glasses with the thickest lenses. He is constantly pushing them up and looking around at people with his big, shiny puppy eyes. Of course, attendance is so important to him and he knows all of his professors on a first name basis. He studies physics, specifically astrophysics. He’s always so busy with homework and labs so making time to hang out with one another can be a little hard. He always finds little pockets of time for you and he's so sweet to you. He typically greets you with your favorite drink and a kiss. His favorite thing to do is tell you all about his current work and possibly research. You taking interest in him and the things he loves makes him fall even more in love with you. He really enjoys taking you outside at night and telling you more about the astronomy side of things. All the facts about planets, galaxies, stars, solar systems, etc… 

Sunoo

This sweetie is a nursing major. He is so dedicated to his studies because he really wants to help other people and make their days a little bit brighter. The endless amounts of biology and chemistry work leave him bone tired at the end of the day. Most of your dates with sunoo are either quizzing him for his next exam or sitting on the couch while venting about his clinicals or your life happenings. You love buying him cute little scrub tops and even though he can't wear them as a student at clinicals, he makes it his mission to wear them when he officially becomes a nurse. He likely ends up as a pediatric nurse so he drags you stickers shopping with him so he can have little goodies for his patients. 

Niki

The ‘nonchalant outcast’ who studies computer science. He is typically either alone, with his girlfriend, or with his few other friends. He never allows himself much time outside of his studies, mostly so he can lock in, but also because he wants to keep his nonchalant appearance. Due to the nature of his major, he is always stressed out. He is so, secretly, happy to have you because you take so much worry off his shoulders. You're always there when he feels like he is going to break down. You're the only one he trusts to be vulnerable around. He's also the most dripped out comp sci major you've ever seen in your life. You would never guess his major just by looking at him and his fashion choices. 

[f101-voodoo-silver]

Excellent post.

I would add a few things:

France as a nation percieved both today and back then is skewed. The French monarchy had the French "nation" centered around Paris and it's very neighboring regions being closest to what one can truly call a Frenchman, and an understood hierarchy of "I rule over this domain but it is not French".

Regions/provinces had a lot of power pre Revolution. Brittany had it's own parliament, it's own laws, it's own power structure, all subservient to the French king in the end but still set up by Bretons and mostly for them. It wasnt the only place where this was the case.

What this meant is that the fake ideal of "equality" that the Revolutionaries had were not embraced by everyone the same way. Vendee and Brittany in particular were highly anti-Rev, and fought hard against it (especially once the atrocities started happening).

Therefore, to make everyone equal, and equally "French", it was an absolute necessity to destroy the nations under control by Paris, unified into one gray mass of "frenchmen". And the first step towards that was obviously language.

No matter the made up excuses they used to justify it, that's all they ever wanted. Stupid backwards forced equality which crushed any and all who werent Parisians, to shape them into Parisians. But this attitude remained for a very long time and persists today. The political class, as a whole, still despises regional cultures and traditions, usually calling us backwards drooling retards good only to be cannon fodder and plowing fields. Especially true in places like Brittany and the Basque country which have both their very own distinct language and very different culture and tradition, fully earning the definition of nation.

tl;dr I fucking hate the revolutionaries, they directly lead to the continued destruction of my people, language and culture, and the fight remains today. Fuck the republic with a rusty pike.

I feel that one of the most overlooked aspects of studying the French Revolution is that, in 18th-century France, most people did not speak French. Yes, you read that correctly.

On 26 Prairial, Year II (14 June 1794), Abbé Henri Grégoire (1) stood before the Convention and delivered a report called The Report on the Necessity and Means of Annihilating Dialects and Universalising the Use of the French Language(2). This report, the culmination of a survey initiated four years earlier, sought to assess the state of languages in France. In 1790, Grégoire sent a 43-question survey to 49 informants across the departments, asking questions like: "Is the use of the French language universal in your area?" "Are one or more dialects spoken here?" and "What would be the religious and political impact of completely eradicating this dialect?"

The results were staggering. According to Grégoire's report:

“One can state without exaggeration that at least six million French people, especially in rural areas, do not know the national language; an equal number are more or less incapable of holding a sustained conversation; and, in the final analysis, those who speak it purely do not exceed three million; likely, even fewer write it correctly.” (3)

Considering that France’s population at the time was around 27 million, Grégoire’s assertion that 12 million people could barely hold a conversation in French is astonishing. This effectively meant that about 40% of the population couldn't communicate with the remaining 60%.

Now, it’s worth noting that Grégoire’s survey was heavily biased. His 49 informants (4) were educated men—clergy, lawyers, and doctors—likely sympathetic to his political views. Plus, the survey barely covered regions where dialects were close to standard French (the langue d’oïl areas) and focused heavily on the south and peripheral areas like Brittany, Flanders, and Alsace, where linguistic diversity was high.

Still, even if the numbers were inflated, the takeaway stands: a massive portion of France did not speak Standard French. “But surely,” you might ask, “they could understand each other somewhat, right? How different could those dialects really be?” Well, let’s put it this way: if Barère and Robespierre went to lunch and spoke in their regional dialects—Gascon and Picard, respectively—it wouldn’t be much of a conversation.

The linguistic make-up of France in 1790

The notion that barely anyone spoke French wasn’t new in the 1790s. The Ancien Régime had wrestled with it for centuries. The Ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts, issued in 1539, mandated the use of French in legal proceedings, banning Latin and various dialects. In the 17th and 18th centuries, numerous royal edicts enforced French in newly conquered provinces. The founding of the Académie Française in 1634 furthered this control, as the Académie aimed to standardise French, cementing its status as the kingdom's official language.

Despite these efforts, Grégoire tells us that 40% of the population could barely speak a word of French. So, if they didn’t speak French, what did they speak? Let’s take a look.

In 1790, the old provinces of the Ancien Régime were disbanded, and 83 departments named after mountains and rivers took their place. These 83 departments provide a good illustration of the incredibly diverse linguistic make-up of France.

Langue d’oïl dialects dominated the north and centre, spoken in 44 out of the 83 departments (53%). These included Picard, Norman, Champenois, Burgundian, and others—dialects sharing roots in Old French. In the south, however, the Occitan language group took over, with dialects like Languedocien, Provençal, Gascon, Limousin, and Auvergnat, making up 28 departments (34%).

Beyond these main groups, three departments in Brittany spoke Breton, a Celtic language (4%), while Alsatian and German dialects were prevalent along the eastern border (another 4%). Basque was spoken in Basses-Pyrénées, Catalan in Pyrénées-Orientales, and Corsican in the Corse department.

From a government’s perspective, this was a bit of a nightmare.

Why is linguistic diversity a governmental nightmare?

In one word: communication—or the lack of it. Try running a country when half of it doesn’t know what you’re saying.

Now, in more academic terms...

Standardising a language usually serves two main purposes: functional efficiency and national identity. Functional efficiency is self-evident. Just as with the adoption of the metric system, suppressing linguistic variation was supposed to make communication easier, reducing costly misunderstandings.

That being said, the Revolution, at first, tried to embrace linguistic diversity. After all, Standard French was, frankly, “the King’s French” and thus intrinsically elitist—available only to those who had the money to learn it. In January 1790, the deputy François-Joseph Bouchette proposed that the National Assembly publish decrees in every language spoken across France. His reasoning? “Thus, everyone will be free to read and write in the language they prefer.”

A lovely idea, but it didn’t last long. While they made some headway in translating important decrees, they soon realised that translating everything into every dialect was expensive. On top of that, finding translators for obscure dialects was its own nightmare. And so, the Republic’s brief flirtation with multilingualism was shut down rather unceremoniously.

Now, on to the more fascinating reason for linguistic standardisation: national identity.

Language and Nation

One of the major shifts during the French Revolution was in the concept of nationhood. Today, there are many ideas about what a nation is (personally, I lean towards Benedict Anderson’s definition of a nation as an “imagined community”), but definitions aside, what’s clear is that the Revolution brought a seismic change in the notion of French identity. Under the Ancien Régime, the French nation was defined as a collective that owed allegiance to the king: “One faith, one law, one king.” But after 1789, a nation became something you were meant to want to belong to. That was problematic.

Now, imagine being a peasant in the newly-created department of Vendée. (Hello, Jacques!) Between tending crops and trying to avoid trouble, Jacques hasn’t spent much time pondering his national identity. Vendéen? Well, that’s just a random name some guy in Paris gave his region. French? Unlikely—he has as much in common with Gascons as he does with the English. A subject of the King? He probably couldn’t name which king.

So, what’s left? Jacques is probably thinking about what is around him: family ties and language. It's no coincidence that the ‘brigands’ in the Vendée organised around their parishes— that’s where their identity lay.

The Revolutionary Government knew this. The monarchy had understood it too and managed to use Catholicism to legitimise their rule. The Republic didn't have such a luxury. As such, the revolutionary government found itself with the impossible task of convincing Jacques he was, in fact, French.

How to do that? Step one: ensure Jacques can actually understand them. How to accomplish that? Naturally, by teaching him.

Language Education during the Revolution

Under the Ancien Régime, education varied wildly by class, and literacy rates were abysmal. Most commoners received basic literacy from parish and Jesuit schools, while the wealthy enjoyed private tutors. In 1791, Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand (5) presented a report on education to the Constituent Assembly (6), remarking:

“A striking peculiarity of the state from which we have freed ourselves is undoubtedly that the national language, which daily extends its conquests beyond France’s borders, remains inaccessible to so many of its inhabitants." (7)

He then proposed a solution:

“Primary schools will end this inequality: the language of the Constitution and laws will be taught to all; this multitude of corrupt dialects, the last vestige of feudalism, will be compelled to disappear: circumstances demand it." (8)

A sensible plan in theory, and it garnered support from various Assembly members, Condorcet chief among them (which is always a good sign).

But, France went to war with most of Europe in 1792, making linguistic diversity both inconvenient and dangerous. Paranoia grew daily, and ensuring the government’s communications were understood by every citizen became essential. The reverse, ensuring they could understand every citizen, was equally pressing. Since education required time and money—two things the First Republic didn’t have—repression quickly became Plan B.

The War on Patois

This repression of regional languages was driven by more than abstract notions of nation-building; it was a matter of survival. After all, if Jacques the peasant didn’t see himself as French and wasn’t loyal to those shadowy figures in Paris, who would he turn to? The local lord, who spoke his dialect and whose land his family had worked for generations.

Faced with internal and external threats, the revolutionary government viewed linguistic unity as essential to the Republic’s survival. From 1793 onwards, language policy became increasingly repressive, targeting regional dialects as symbols of counter-revolution and federalist resistance. Bertrand Barère spearheaded this campaign, famously saying:

“Federalism and superstition speak Breton; emigration and hatred of the Republic speak German; counter-revolution speaks Italian, and fanaticism speaks Basque. Let us break these instruments of harm and error... Among a free people, the language must be one and the same for all.”

This, combined with Grégoire’s report, led to the Décret du 8 Pluviôse 1794, which mandated French-speaking teachers in every rural commune of departments where Breton, Italian, Basque, and German were the main languages.

Did it work? Hardly. The idea of linguistic standardisation through education was sound in principle, but France was broke, and schools cost money. Spoiler alert: France wouldn’t have a free, secular, and compulsory education system until the 1880s.

What it did accomplish, however, was two centuries of stigmatising patois and their speakers...

Notes

(1) Abbe Henri Grégoire was a French Catholic priest, revolutionary, and politician who championed linguistic and social reforms, notably advocating for the eradication of regional dialects to establish French as the national language during the French Revolution.

(2) "Sur la nécessité et les moyens d’anéantir les patois et d’universaliser l’usage de la langue francaise”

(3)On peut assurer sans exagération qu’au moins six millions de Français, sur-tout dans les campagnes, ignorent la langue nationale ; qu’un nombre égal est à-peu-près incapable de soutenir une conversation suivie ; qu’en dernier résultat, le nombre de ceux qui la parlent purement n’excède pas trois millions ; & probablement le nombre de ceux qui l’écrivent correctement est encore moindre.

(4) And, as someone who has done A LOT of statistics in my lifetime, 49 is not an appropriate sample size for a population of 27 million. At a confidence level of 95% and with a margin of error of 5%, he would need a sample size of 384 people. If he wanted to lower the margin of error at 3%, he would need 1,067. In this case, his margin of error is 14%.

That being said, this is a moot point anyway because the sampled population was not reflective of France, so the confidence level of the sample is much lower than 95%, which means the margin of error is much lower because we implicitly accept that his sample does not reflect the actual population.

(5) Yes. That Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand. It’s always him. He’s everywhere. If he hadn’t died in 1838, he’d probably still be part of Macron’s cabinet. Honestly, he’s probably haunting the Élysée as we speak — clearly the man cannot stay away from politics.

(6) For those new to the French Revolution and the First Republic, we usually refer to two legislative bodies, each with unique roles. The National Assembly (1789): formed by the Third Estate to tackle immediate social and economic issues. It later became the Constituent Assembly, drafting the 1791 Constitution and establishing a constitutional monarchy.

(7) Une singularité frappante de l'état dont nous sommes affranchis est sans doute que la langue nationale, qui chaque jour étendait ses conquêtes au-delà des limites de la France, soit restée au milieu de nous inaccessible à un si grand nombre de ses habitants.

(8) Les écoles primaires mettront fin à cette étrange inégalité : la langue de la Constitution et des lois y sera enseignée à tous ; et cette foule de dialectes corrompus, dernier reste de la féodalité, sera contraint de disparaître : la force des choses le commande

(9) Le fédéralisme et la superstition parlent bas-breton; l’émigration et la haine de la République parlent allemand; la contre révolution parle italien et le fanatisme parle basque. Brisons ces instruments de dommage et d’erreur. .. . La monarchie avait des raisons de ressembler a la tour de Babel; dans la démocratie, laisser les citoyens ignorants de la langue nationale, incapables de contréler le pouvoir, cest trahir la patrie, c'est méconnaitre les bienfaits de l'imprimerie, chaque imprimeur étant un instituteur de langue et de législation. . . . Chez un peuple libre la langue doit étre une et la méme pour tous.

(10) Patois means regional dialect in French.

[eveningcherryblossoms]

betaverse already sounds dystopian enough for me, and i can totally see this treatment having some darker consequences. mental health crisis among betas, resistance movements, betas lashing out at their pack members, just a growing divide between betas and alphas+omegas. i can see more betas having to be institutionalized because they were losing their sanity, lashed out at their pack members or attempted to harm themselves, and beta-exclusive online forums where they spew vitriolic hatred towards their packs. this universe you built is so interesting, and so dark when you really look into it! (suicide mention tw) i can see things like beta public and group suicides becoming a thing, arranged marriage betas choosing to end it together, betas becoming increasingly more aggressive towards alphas and omegas and rejecting them fiercely. no nurturing, no words of affection, just going through the motions with the most dead or hateful look in their eyes whenever they have anything to do with the pack, they can pratically smell it in the air.

those instituitions to make them good betas? they turn it into a chance to unionize. form their own packs. the pack rejection and beta independence rights becomes so disseminated that they come home to their pack worse than when they were sent there.

I thought the betaverse I made was bad enough already, but you guys keep opening my third eye 😱 Pls stop I'm a baby about angst and scared of ghosts *half joking*

Unfortunately this scene came to my mind when I read the last part...

You were sent to the Institute after yet another escape attempt. You sat in classes where omega instructors slyly guilted you and alpha instructors subtly condemned you but, more importantly, your fellow 'wayward' betas passed you notes making fun of them. You ate your meal while chatting with the other betas, what're you in for? like some kind of prisoners that you were in all but name. After curfew you huddled with the other betas again, your voices no higher than a whisper but what you said so full of vitriol you didn't even realize you'd been holding in.

It was so freeing, so thrilling amidst the boring, stifling classes and rules and one-to-one sessions. Then some of you broke the rules, got punished severely, and–returned triumphant. Then other betas, repeat offenders and veteran rule breakers, grinned and lured you into more. Until eventually one of you said Let's riot and everyone else replied Hell yeah.

You lot nearly brought the whole place down. Multiple were injured, both you and the staff. You were unrepentant till the end. You regretted absolutely nothing–

Then you were brought to the private office of the Institute's elusive head. You were still thinking how you could make a mess and a statement here when you saw the head was a beta.

You didn't get to bask in your surprise. You didn't get to leap in rage and hurl insults to the traitor. The head, the beta, showed you several pictures.

You vomited on the spot.

"What– That was– They couldn't have gotten away with that?!"

Even as you screamed it, you knew the answer already.

You didn't refuse when the beta, the head, put a hand on your shoulder. You didn't turn a deaf ear when the–your fellow beta said,

"The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. It's been hard work even getting our treatment up to this level. I don't want those fates to befall you."

You glanced at the pictures again, but flinched. You looked helplessly at your fellow beta.

You returned to your pack subdued. When the urge to flee possessed you again, the pictures came to your mind and successfully bound you in place.

[queenofbaws]

HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THEM LATELY....So would love to see your take on the sole survivor duo of Chris and Emily :)

"You're bleeding."

He looked up from the table when she threw the box down, the resulting bang! way too loud for just a couple tissues. It only snapped him halfway out of his daze, though, and for a second it was all he could do to blink and reel and blink some more. "Oh. I. Uh. So are...you," he managed, then dropped his eyes again when she tightened her mouth. "But you...knew that already."

Emily shifted, pulling her jacket closed with movements too sharp to be called self-conscious. It covered the gauze pad on her shoulder (the one she was, to his credit, already starting to bleed through), but she made that seem incidental, unintentional. She took the seat across from him, her hands jammed under her arms in tight, bloodless fists, and nodded once towards the tissues. "Seriously. Do something about that. It's gross."

He could've argued, could've dug his heels in. But he was tired, and his head hurt, and every time he shut his eyes he saw the lodge going up in flame with everyone else still inside, so...he didn't. He just grabbed a wad of tissues and pressed them to his forehead.

Then, silence. Heavy and horrendous, made a million times worse by the vague yellow cast of the overhead lights. It was as though every last one of his worst stress dreams had coalesced: cafeteria embarrassment and not knowing what building his next class was in; disappointing everyone and all his teeth falling out; being left alone with Emily Davis.

When he pulled the tissues away, there wasn't as much blood as he'd imagined there'd be. At least something was on the mend.

"I'm sorry," Emily said, and hearing it spoken in her voice was so surreal he had to pause, worried he'd spoken too soon and was nursing some sort of wicked concussion. "About Ashley. That was...I'm just sorry."

This was one of those moments that needed to breathe, he thought, but he'd never been good at that. "Why? You hated her. It's not like you were quiet about it."

That moment breathed.

"I can still be sorry." Her voice was stiff. "You don't have to be a dick about it."

"Yeah, well, that's..." Frowning, he balled the bloody tissues up, carefully standing to ease his way over to the trashcan on his tired, tired legs and his miserable, screaming knee. "That's...probably true." Still, it wasn't until he turned back towards the table that he believed it.

Slowly, both because of his leg and not, Chris limped over again, gingerly lowering himself into his chair. He nudged the box of tissues closer to her side of the table. "I'm sorry about Matt," he said, and was surprised to find he meant it.

Just not as surprised as he'd been to see her crying in front of him.

[loser-37]

i love these. aight

-something sweet like the movies, a park, some type of store like build a bear. maybe the beach but i don’t like sand very much soo…

-idk many specifically mlm songs but i’m dropping jesus he knows me by ghost solely for the line “he doesn’t know about my girlfriend or the man i met last night” and apparently when copia would sing it on stage he changes “met” to “screwed” and i think that’s absolutely fire

-being held or like making a playlist with someone or just being around them

-nope

-uhhh like eight with people i know

-men. taller than me with fluffy hair, specifically a dark color. dominant in the way that they’ll take over if i’m struggling with something and they’ll order my food for me cause i get very nervous and they’ll make phone calls for me that i they can for me. definitely alternate like me. same music taste that would be good. love language has to be touch.

-don’t know. only ever crushed on ppl i know

-really depends the people. i would just say one of my favorite shows cause if they don’t like my favorite shows then looks like we’re not watching anything. i’d be up for watching some random movie tho

-lilies. love hate relationship since… WEE OO WEE OO DEADNAME ALERT- but also they’re pretty…

-i’d prefer some type of outing but for gifts i’d probably give jewelry or something that reminds me of them. going out to our favorite restaurant would be ideal though

-either meliora or infeatissumam both by ghost. special mention: every panic at the disco album.

-physical touch. obviously.

-pup. 100% my favorite. cant think of any others. but that one makes me swoon irl or online but yknow i like any cause im attention starved

-yes. read and write

-can’t tell tbh, any character i like i label as myself.

-both. all boys. any boy who wants me.

-any male character i like they like men in some way because fuck you i don’t need to explain myself

-burgers. love me some burgers but yknow some places make them bad... but i can always turn to dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. the specific brand my mom buys lol i forgot what it’s called.

-all wound up by she wants revenge

-can’t really remember. but i remember first day of school this one girl was confused on where her spanish class was and i told her and she said “oh thank you i like your nose” or something like that so that was so random but since it’s such a random thing it had to be genuine

-all of them. why pick one?

-scalp cause i’m puppy….. 🥺

-not really

-2020 alternate style specifically the super fluffy hair it gives me gender euphoria.

-nothing too big but yeah. hold hands and kissing is fine

-being held. please someone hold me

-big shocker, physical touch! i am touch starved!! let me cuddle!!!!

-both. please i just wanna be held

no tags but any mlm ppl can do this

mlm ask game!

1. ideal date location?

2. favorite mlm song?

3. what makes you feel loved?

4. are you single or taken?

5. how many crushes have you had?

6. what's your type?

7. do you develop crushes quickly?

8. best show or movie for a date night at home?

9. what are your favorite flowers?

10. what would you give as a gift on an anniversary?

11. what's your favorite album?

12. what's your love language?

13. what are some pet names that make you blush?

14. do you read fanfiction?

15. any fictional crushes?

16. loud boys or quiet boys?

17. any characters you headcanon as mlm?

18. what's your comfort food?

19. last song you listened to?

20. best compliment you ever received?

21. kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead?

22. scalp massage or back massage?

23. any celebrity crushes?

24. what's your guilty pleasure?

25. do you like PDA?

26. how do you prefer to be comforted?

27. favorite way to express affection?

28. big spoon or little spoon?

29. freebie! ask or prompt to share something random

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[800db-cloud]

i’ve been wanting to do this since day one

[trannyradfem]

Full agree. Reminds me of something that happened on here recently.

Someone vaguely underaged once reblogged one of my reblogs and a TRA got angry at me for "arguing with minors on my post" when I responded to the minor, called me a "fucking weirdo".... for responding to someone who replied directly to me, and then did not block me?????

Then the 27 y/o went on a major shartfest about how I'm harming minors because I.... directly replied to them, a 27 year old, on the same original post but in a different reply thread without that teen, vaguely referencing the violence the trans community has subjected me to, with nothing more specific than, "I was stalked, doxxed, harassed, and there were even attempts to fucking kill me", or, "I have experienced CSA and grooming". Literally, that's it. Purely factual.

I'm in multiple trauma support groups and the general rule of thumb for many of them is that, "if you can explicitly imagine it or paint a picture of it, you've described too much", so I tend to follow that out of respect for other trauma survivors. If I go further than that, I make sure I tag it appropriately.

This 27 year old TRA's shartfest was completely out of proportion, going as far to say that I have no boundaries and I was being innapropriate with a minor. Which... first of all, that's exactly what my father did with me. That's called grooming and sexual abuse. I know what that actually looks like. Telling a teen they're associating with dangerous people who condone rapists is not the fucking same thing as abusing or grooming them, and how fucking dare you mindlessly conflate that with the child abuse I fucking went through?

That reply of mine to the 27 year old was also heavily tagged with blockable trigger warnings (just to be safe since I know how self destructive teens can be with "TERF content"), and also community marked as having adult content. Meaning the only way the minor could've possibly even seen it was by lying about their age with the intent on exposing themselves to that and much, much worse content on this site. And that doesn't concern you (the 27 y/o) more??? You don't care about this kid, you only care about proving yourself right, and making me look like how people perceive you.

Telling other transmascs that our common experiences are both valid, and also that it's not ok when MTFs abuse us, was another bone this 27 y/o had to pick with me. "You don't know me!! I'm no victim!! I love my trans women friends!!!" after telling me "YOU HATE YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU CALL YOURSELF A TIF AND HANG OUT WITH PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD". But they sure really hated it when I did the same thing back to them, assigning the failures of the trans community to them. These people have no self awareness, I swear.

But also, let's be real, if you're purposefully interacting with radfems, you're just stupid if you think the topic of and brief references of sexual violence won't ever come up. A good portion of us WERE minors when we were victimized, should we just shut up forever? No. For people who bitch about "purity culture" nonstop, they sure hate it when survivors talk about what they went through in an attempt to raise class consciousness. But being a public kinkster is somehow 100% ok and should be protected self expression? Yeah fucking right.

It's just fucking gross. They're actively trying to manipulate young teens into trusting emotionally unstable, manipulative, and mentally ill (meaning uncontrolled mental illness) adults over a stable adult who will tell them the truth and advise them to Not allow the trans community to gaslight them into thinking it's ok for MTFs to casually abuse us and be drastically innapropriate with us. But I'm the one harming them? Yeah fucking right.

And let me get this straight, just because someone is a teen they should be allowed to say whatever bigoted shit they want.... and inherently have the power to silence adults from commenting on it? Dead serious? That's not how it ever works in the real world. I'm not saying this is how it should be, but there is so much vile shit on the internet that if this is what you're worried about teens being exposed to, you don't actually give a shit about their wellbeing. You just don't want them exposed to opinions you don't agree with, and I'd argue that's way closer to grooming than anything I've done there.

We call those behaviors and expectations-- spreading bigoted shit without consequences-- a spoiled brat, anyways, and it's better that a radfem tells them their behavior is unacceptable online before they do that shit irl and get actual real consequences that can actually significantly hurt them or be blown out of proportion.

Like maybe you should tell the minor, your follower, to stop arguing with adult radfems if we're so dangerous? Maybe? Any personal accountability here, hello? Ugh. They're so full of shit.

If there's an actual and real danger, similarly, I will handle it and protect the youth accordingly. Although I can't say I'm super comfortable with minors disclosing private information (regarding abuse/ grooming/ etc.) to me in my inbox, I can at least direct them towards some resources to help them process what they were exposed to with supports they can trust to not take advantage of them. Which is much more than anything I've seen the trans community ever offer. TBH I'd be able do more if I was actually trained on how to support minors exposed to that stuff in depth, and if it wasn't so personally triggering for me, but that's not where I'm at rn. I'd rather connect them to someone who is qualified to do that so I don't accidentally cause more harm than good. Because this is an extremely delicate issue.

But a radfem telling a teenager the ways the trans community teaches things that are really unhealthy for your psyche being posited as grooming or abuse is just downright ridiculous, and fucking insidious when you consider what trans people do to minors in the darkest corners of the trans community.

It's complete and total hypocrisy at best, and recruiting minors into a dangerous cult at worst.

Why do you argue with teenagers if you're 18

Technically, I'm still a teenager. Except I can drink, drive, vote and have a job. 💀 But there's a huge maturity gap between each year if you look at the ages 13-18. I definitely got humbled a lot as a young teen and I think the kids nowadays are not getting cyberbullied enough.

[fellhellion]

couldn’t stop thinking about this

[freyadragonlord]

Han Yoojin: the best way to tame beasts - and people! ;) - is through food!

Sung Hyunjae, serving him eggs: that's really clever, Han Yoojin-gun

Han Yoojin: I can surely bond with Chief Taewon if we have a few meals together

Sung Hyunjae, serving him dessert: how brilliant ^^

Han Yoojin: wow this is really good, maybe you're not completely terrible

Sung Hyunjae: ^^

[lukazade]

These kids are NOT studying rn