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#like chores for instance
uncanny-tranny · 1 year
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Sometimes, I'm sad about the hobbies I have abandoned or have been too intimidated to pick up. But... what good is it, to just beat myself up over that? My bass is sitting in the corner, patiently waiting, and so is everything else. My life isn't over, and I've got nothing to answer to. I'm wading through a sea of time, and I'll pick up the seashells that interest me, and it's okay to put one back in the sand. The current's waves will bring it back to me if that is to be destiny. I can not hate myself into productivity, so I must swim on.
I think the same can apply to anybody. It's okay if you have dropped something, such as a hobby or passion. Human beings are like that sometimes, it isn't reasonable for you to beat yourself into submission. You, too, can not hate yourself into being a well-rounded person. You must cultivate it like you would a garden - with patience, time, and care.
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construction-ahead · 10 months
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another update for how fucking fantastic depression medication is. would you believe that i just worked out and then felt really good afterwards!!! like damn endorphines are actually a thing? like this shit works? i never never had this after working out but now my brain is actually like :D yippie! like an energized light feeling in my body and mind nyooom
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churipu · 3 months
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hi i wanted to ask since your requests are open but can u write abt jjk guys (gojo, geto and maybe megumi as well) and how it would be like arguing with them? thank youuu~
ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN ˚。𖦹
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
warnings. cursing on toji's :)
note. hi nonnie, megumi's been done and you can just click right there to be directed to the said post — so, i'm going to change him to his father jsksdjdk. anyways, i'm so sorry this came out so late, i hope you like it. i was going to focus on my 1k event but then i realized that i'm holding up the requests in my inbox, so i'm going to try to upload them together one by one. / and ngl, i just did my nails done for the first time, aND I AM STRUGGLING TO DO ANYTHING. including typing, but i'm trying my best skdjs.
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GOJO SATORU. arguments with him are just plain loud. for instance, we all know how gojo is, he'd be so petty during arguments. despite that though — i feel like he won't ever raise his voice at you, he's petty, yes. but he won't do anything that could scare you, raising his voice.
believe me when i say that he won't back down when he isn't in the wrong. he will argue back if you're wrong; and even with all that banter, both you and gojo will always resolve it together. he won't let you leave or turn away to discard the argument. gojo hates it when you give him the silent treatment — so he tries his best to not let you leave unless everything is talked about, face to face.
"satoru, i'm just saying that i didn't mean to do that. okay? i didn't even realize it!" you tell him, voice loud and bold.
gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, "this is the second time y/n, i'm sure you realize that — you're not a child anymore." you grumbled under your breath.
the past few days have been stressful. hectic for you. you knew though it wasn't an excuse, but when things get too caught up — you lose track of things, and honestly, you wanted nothing to do but to sleep and take a rest. work has been taking a big toll on you, both mentally and physically — and you can't bring yourself to argue with gojo right now.
"satoru, i know. it's just, things have been stressful at work. i'm sorry i forgot to turn off the stove," you tell him genuinely sorry that you almost, possibly burn the whole house down if he hadn't been the one to realize that, "i'm sorry, okay?"
his gaze softened. regaining control over the rhythm of his breathing, gojo reaches out to you, "d'you wanna talk about it?"
you shook your head, "i just wan' to sleep, satoru. i'm tired." he buries his nose into your hair before tossing you over his shoulder, you didn't complain at the way he decided to carry you — you just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.
the male held you close as he climbed your shared bed, "'m sorry too," he mumbles, grazing his lips over your forehead.
"you don't have to be, it's my fault for being reckless," you replied, draping an arm over his torso, clutching his black shirt, "can we sleep now?"
gojo chuckles, "mhm. good night," he whispers, "i love you."
you smiled at him, burying your face into his chest, "good night 'toru. i love you more."
GETO SUGURU. arguments with geto can be pretty frustrating, although he never raises his voice at you. he just knows what to say, and he's always right too. whether it being about you forgetting to throw the trash out (once), or you being forgetful about some things — geto just knows the right words to say to you, without making you feel like you're doing something wrong.
see, the thing is in the house. you both divided your chores, geto does the dishes, and the mopping. you do the laundry and vacuuming. while the morning trash is yours, and he does it nightly.
he's usually never in the wrong. most of the time. but when he is, he will admit so. in conclusion, you don't argue with him often, because he will apologize if he knows he did something wrong. but this was on rare occasions.
today is one of those rare occasions. you swore you had left the house clean — and you remembered throwing the trash before you leave for work. yet, here he was, asking you about it.
"suguru, i promise i threw it in the morning. before i left for work," you tell him, taking off your shoes and putting it neatly on the shoe rack. having to come back home from work, you just wanted to eat dinner, have a nice warm bath, and sleep.
god, you hated arguments. you admitted that you sometimes forget to throw the trash out while rushing to go to work, but that was not intentional at all.
geto had asked your prior about it. you knew he wasn't sparking an argument, but the thing is — you remembered it well. going out of the door this morning while holding a plastic of waste, hell, you even remembered bumping into a neighbor on the way out.
"just . . . let me throw it out again—" geto has been awfully silent for the past few minutes, and when you approached the trash can, he immediately stops you.
his hand latching around your wrist gently as he pulls you over, "no, no. it's my fault, i remember now. i was the one who threw that in the trash can after you left," he said to you in an apologetic tone, "'m sorry."
you shook your head, "it's okay, it's just a misunderstanding. and it's not like you intentionally forgot about it, right?" he nods his head mutely, pulling you into a silent embrace, "y'okay sugu?"
"the next time i do that — i want you to smack me in the face, okay?" you chuckled, placing a wet kiss onto his lips.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. i don't know how to say it — he's just accepts his fate and does whatever you want him to do. he thinks arguments are a complete waste of time, it's not like he likes arguing with you in the first place. he just doesn't see a point to it since he never initiates the talking; you always do. but that's because he did things that sparked the said argument. you reap what you sow.
toji can be lazy sometimes. scratch that. most of the time. clothes sprawled out in the living room, on the kitchen counter which he claimed he forgot when he was grabbing water, on the couch, on the headboard of your bed, on the bathroom sink. and honestly, he's a grown man — he knows better than that.
"toji, how many times do i have to tell you—"
"put the dirty laundry in their place, yeah, y'reminded me that like . . . three times today." he grumbled under his breath as he yawned out loudly.
"then why are you still leaving them everywhere? god, this is so childish! it's like 'm taking care of a fucking baby," toji lets out a sigh, "i'm so tired of telling you over and over again. you're a grown man, why can't you act like one?"
toji's not dumb. he knows it's his mistake, and sometimes he genuinely forgets about leaving his shirt out while being too preoccupied with other things. he loves you, he really does. the last thing he'd like is you leaving him because he can't stop his habit of leaving his shirt everywhere.
he approaches you, taking the shirt out of your grip, "my fault."
"damn right it is. the next time i see another shirt, i swear to god, you're sleeping on the couch." you muttered out, crossing your arms — watching as the male meekly trotted into the bathroom where the laundry basket rested beside the bathroom cabinet.
"is that a threat?" he chuckles, peeking his head out.
"no. it's a warning."
he walks out of the bathroom, slithering an arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. prepping you on his lap, "mm. noted, can you stop getting mad at me now?" he comments, grazing his finger over your neck.
and he did it again at night (and slept on the couch like you warned him, he still hates you for that).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Dick loves your plushie collection.
He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.
He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.
So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.
If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc
Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.
You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…
Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(
It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.
Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.
It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.
He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.
Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.
So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.
‘You look perfect.’ -Jason
‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you
‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason
‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.
Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.
‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason
‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you
‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.
‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.
‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.
‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’
You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’
‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.
Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.
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janitorhutcherson · 5 months
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i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)
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i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.
• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.
• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.
• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.
• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.
• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.
• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.
• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.
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bailaconox · 2 years
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spent hours trying to explain my thoughts and feelings to my mom and got absolutely nowhere so that’s great that’s amazing that’s so helpful
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quotidian-oblivion · 18 days
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May I just say... Colin Morgan's background stage business is impeccable. There are so many actors who just stand there watching or aimlessly shuffle around, but I've noticed that when Colin Morgan is in-character, he is in-character.
I haven't watched him in anything other than Merlin, but when he's not the focus of the camera, he's still doing things just as Merlin does. Like, trying not to laugh during the feast when Elena was visiting and displaying poor table manners, actually looking deep in-thought and mouthing the name 'Alice' when Gaius was talking to him about her, glaring at Gwen from the bedpost when she was enchanted and was monologuing about who could have possibly poisoned Arthur, polishing or doing a chore or keeping his head down when Uther's talking to Arthur but still watching them with a keen eye-
and so many more instances! His background stage business is just amazing.
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ddarker-dreams · 2 months
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mini love report — gojo satoru
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relationship health diagnosis — 70%*
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symptom one — permanent honeymoon phase
he's obsessed with you an (ab)normal amount and makes it everyone else's problem. satoru loves seeing how many compliments he can get in before you're swatting him away from embarrassment. he'll capture your wrist, smother your pulse in kisses, then continue his praise. it's not always suave either. he alternates between having decent game and coming off as cringe. you have no idea how he says half the things he does.
satoru gushes about you to everyone. poor ijichi, mortified higher-ups, the elderly lady sitting next to him on the train; no one is safe. his chest swells with pride every time he remembers that he managed to pull you. it doesn't matter if you're teenagers sharing your awkward first kiss or if you've been married for decades, he'll be singing your praises until the end of time.
symptom two — weirdly possessive
satoru isn't possessive in the traditional sense. when others encroach on you, what troubles him runs deeper than simple jealousy. his smile becomes strained and he physically inserts himself between you and the offending party. you're then whisked away, regardless of how rude the abrupt departure comes off. this isn't limited to instances where you're being flirted with outright.
it's actually amplified when the other person holds some unique position in your life that's exclusive to them. satoru prides himself on the fact no one knows you better than he does. so it's disconcerting when another person has access to information and memories entirely detached from him. he's overwhelmed with the urge to prove you belong to each other — no one can come close to the bond you share. this acrimony lingers even after the interaction ends.
gojo satoru is a greedy man. he might not be the type to insist you cover up if your outfit is revealing, but he does experience this antipathy toward people who fulfill a niche he can't.
symptom three — obnoxious
you deserve a reward for putting up with him honestly. he wasn't wrong when he described himself as having a terrible personality. while it's rarely malicious, he isn't the most considerate person when it comes to others. he'll speak what's on his mind without a second thought. zero filter. if you're around, he's a stunning 10% nicer so you'll chew him out less. the number could be higher but he finds that disciplinary side of you hot. this is a direct admission from him.
he likes your attention and will pursue it relentlessly. as he grows up, he slightly improves this habit. or, to be more specific, he hides it better. he feels he's way more interesting than whatever book or video game you're playing. shooing him off so you can get stuff done is a commonplace occurrence. on the upside, when trudging through chores, he helps with the passion of a thousand suns if it means having you all to himself sooner.
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primary area of concern
satoru's seemingly infinite (heh) supply of pep often doubles as a shield to deflect uncomfortable emotions. he isn't one to linger on negative events, the pace in which he seemingly moves on is concerning. the innerworkings of his mind are shrouded in mystery for such an open individual. getting him to open up about his fears or past hurts is almost impossible. he won't dodge your inquiries outright, that'd prove too suspicious. he'll throw a few crumbs your way and hope that's enough to satiate your worry.
the word vulnerability isn't in his vocabulary. this isn't owed to a lack of trust on his part — if anything, the care he holds for you makes it tempting at times. however, taking that first step toward opening up is daunting. you'll have to be patient with him. if it doesn't pertain to your relationship, it's unlikely he'll have an extensive heart-to-heart about the specters haunting his mind. rather, those aforementioned crumbs become more substantial. a late-night conversation will unexpectedly veer toward a sensitive subject.
it'll be fleeting. you don't have to shower him with platitudes, simply grab his hand and squeeze. it's an unspoken message that he isn't as alone as he sometimes feels.
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prognosis
gojo satoru can be too blunt, he struggles with emotional intimacy, and he's shameless in getting what he wants from you. he's a mess but he's your mess. you don't revere him like a god among men, you make him feel human. you're his best friend, his soulmate (he keeps the latter description to himself, it's one of the few sentiments that embarrasses him). he'd do absolutely anything for your sake. when you enter the room, it's like everyone else ceases to exist. he brightens up and chases after any laugh, smile, or flustered expression he can get.
he believes meeting you altered the balance of the world more than his own birth.
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*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-10)
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aemondsbabe · 3 months
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A Kindness
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summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?
pairing: ramsay bolton x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 6.2k
a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🖤 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?” 
Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.” 
A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.
 Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home. 
Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well. 
Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it. 
Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement. 
Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.
The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was. 
Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk. 
It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it. 
“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.
You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face. 
He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you. 
“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”
Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings. 
His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.
“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly. 
“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. 
“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.
“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin. 
“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks. 
Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.
Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.
“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor. 
“A… A great victory, master!” 
“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”
Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare. 
“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”
The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?” 
He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you. 
His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”
Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”
“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.
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Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall. 
“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.
Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded. 
“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”
Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.
“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.
“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –” 
Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately. 
I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always! 
“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”
Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything. 
“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts. 
“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.” 
He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow. 
You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours. 
Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad. 
Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor. 
Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer. 
Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet. 
A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone. 
A kindness, even now. 
Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly. 
“Thank y – Ah!”
“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.” 
The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head. 
“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers. 
A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”
The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!
You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center. 
“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”
Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot. 
He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter. 
A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace. 
All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow. 
“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.
“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.
“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.” 
He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.” 
You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them. 
Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way. 
Not that he’d tell you that.
He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill. 
“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”
“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again. 
“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?” 
Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip. 
“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”
“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his. 
“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”
You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same. 
Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you. 
“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”
“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”
“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”
Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.
Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers. 
Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself. 
“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. 
“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.
He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. 
You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm. 
“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.
You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold. 
He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine. 
“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”
“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.
“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”
His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. 
“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives. 
“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”
He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason. 
Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his. 
He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.
His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. 
“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.
Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.
“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend. 
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The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine. 
Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her. 
“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion. 
After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore. 
“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now. 
He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again. 
“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you. 
“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say. 
Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly. 
Kind, even still.
A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close. 
He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew. 
A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips. 
“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”
“Thank you.” 
The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you. 
Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else. 
His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet. 
He loves you, in his way.
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tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess
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enemui · 6 months
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⁉️What your favorite Genshin Impact character says about you🫵
🐰Amber: Your favorite Pokémon is Eevee and your favorite Sanrio character is My Melody.
🌹Lisa: You're not scared of smart women but you are scared of interesting women.
🛡️Noelle: You don't know shit and plan on keeping it that way.
🫧Barbara: You either sell or buy gamer girl bathwater.
🦇Fischl: You're quarter-delusional. Like, you are delusional, but sometimes you're aware that you are delusional.
☘️Bennett: You have a soft spot for miserable little creatures and you desperately need a bigger character trait than that.
🍖Razor: You love dogs, even if they're old, ugly little goblins.
🐱Diona: You love cats and hate alcohol. Those are two rare instances of you feeling strongly about anything.
🔮Mona: You were assigned financial irresponsibility at birth, and haven't managed to do anything to change your fate.
🗡️Rosaria: You think having a healthy biorhythm is overrated. You also look like a human cigarette.
🖌️Mika: You let your feelings of pity towards others control you.
🍀Klee: You're the fun parent. You probably own a spoiled pet.
🦴Sucrose: You actually love to talk, people just hate to listen.
🧪Albedo: You're gay and neurodivergent.
❄️Eula: You're weak to corporate tricks. You should really work on that.
🦚Kaeya: You're not known to have functional relationships and healthy coping mechanisms.
🦉Diluc: You think you could get an edgy boy to open up to you. You couldn't because the moment someone is even a little cold to you, you will cry.
🦁Jean: You always order the same thing from the menu. Not because it's your favorite, but because you're scared of trying anything new.
🍏Venti: If being horny and annoying was a sport, you'd be an Olympic athlete.
🐇Yaoyao: You can be sold anything with a cute mascot plastered on it.
🌶️Xiangling: You wonder how a lot of different things taste like and you need to be stopped.
🧊Chongyun: There's a great disparity between how you want to be perceived versus how you are actually perceived.
💦Xingqiu: You are knowingly annoying and don't plan to stop anytime soon.
🎸Xinyan: You're misunderstood, but you definitely don't make an effort to be anything else.
⚰️Hu Tao: Your self-proclaimed pranks have resulted in actual damages to people's mental and physical well-being.
🎼Yun Jin: You've projected onto your partner before to the point you lost the ability to identify their actual character.
🥥Qiqi: You aren't swayed by public opinions.
🐍Baizhu: Close the wikipedia tab with a list of terminal diseases, you're fine, just severely dramatic.
🏔️Shenhe: You've been in abusive relationships. Not sure if as the victim or perpetrator, but you were in them.
🎲Yelan: You'd be perfectly content as a housewife. Just do chores and read smut.
⚓️Beidou: You don't mind putting in the work to change things to be more to your liking.
💎Ningguang: You have no qualms sucking up to people for a bit of societal advantage.
🍤Keqing: You've entered relationships before, thinking you could change them. No, that absolutely did not go well for you.
⚖️Yanfei: It's not just your exes who suck, you have an entire toxic friend group.
🔔Ganyu: You have an elaborate power fantasy about quitting your job.
🫖Madame Ping: You're a classy lesbian.
⚙️Guizhong: You present your opinions as facts.
☁️Cloud Retainer: You've been in a situation when you've found your girlfriend's mom more attractive than your girlfriend.
🪽Xiao: You're non-binary and depressed.
🐉Zhongli: You need a man to kiss the back of your hand. Also you have a strained relationship with your father.
🍁Kaedehara Kazuha: You don't care about looks, only vibes. You're also addicted to adderall.
🍃Sayu: You are serious about the silly and silly about the serious. Sometimes it's funny, other times you deserve to be dropkicked into the sun.
🎁Kirara: You have a crippling addiction to adorable girls.
🦌Shikanoin Heizou: You are guilty of the "thinking with your dick/pussy". Don't try to deny it, you didn't even care until his birthday became a national holiday.
⚡️Kuki Shinobu: You have better things to do than a well-paying job, such as arson.
👹Arataki Itto: You are a size queen. You also think you're way more interesting than you actually are.
🎇Yoimiya: You've had a crush on the same person for the longest time and every time you think you're over them, they make a request of you and you jump on it like a dog.
👺Kujou Sara: You could probably use hormonal therapy.
🍡Thoma: You think appearances don't matter as long as he's nice. You're also a terrible judge of character, so all your exes are just overall shitty people.
🪭Kamisato Ayaka: You cannot survive without your established social circle. Were it not for the luxuries of civilization, you'd be dead in a ditch.
🧋Kamisato Ayato: You have no self-respect, if a slightly above average man tells you to do something, you'll do it.
🐕Gorou: You don't need a man, you need a dog.
🪸Sangonomiya Kokomi: You don't know how to dress well, but you really want a girlfriend who does.
🦊Yae Miko: You think as long as a woman is hot, she can do whatever the fuck she pleases.
🌸Raiden Ei: You've been in a relationship with an unmedicated mentally ill person and walked out of that experience having learned nothing.
🧞‍♀️Dori: The world would be better off without you.
🌻Tighnari: You have an attitude and you refuse to reign it in no matter how inappropriate for the situation it is.
🪴Collei: You either have no idea what you're doing or you should be in jail.
🪷Nilou: You live quite blissfully, but dealing with you isn't easy. This is called ignorance.
✨Layla: Your best exam results come from days when you showed up to class hungover and on 45 minutes of sleep.
📐Faruzan: Your family broke the generational curse, which somehow had a negative impact on your character.
🪻Candace: You are the mom friend, but only because you have to be. Like, you're a mess, but you're a lot less of a mess than your friends.
🌺Dehya: You can draw yourself symmetrical eyeliner.
🃏Cyno: You probably have a good moral compass, but you still aren't easy to get along with.
🦅Alhaitham: You're, like, severely delusional. You either think he's like you or that you could be on good terms with him. Both of those are clear signs of delusional behavior.
🕊️Kaveh: I hate to break it you, but buying stuffed animals can't substitute for going to therapy.
☂️Wanderer: Most of the time, you're really cute, but you can be absolutely terrifying if you so choose. You're also trans.
💉Dottore: You're fairly submissive but if someone makes you mad, you'll make sure they regret it.
🌱Nahida: You're addicted to winning arguments. You don't even need to be right, you just need to feel like you've won, even if you resort to the method of wearing a person down until they no longer want to continue debating with you.
🌂Navia: You have leadership skills specifically in the "do as I say, not as I do" department.
🐧Freminet: You're non-binary and have anxiety.
🎩Lynette: You're very patient but you'd rather not be.
🪄Lyney: You have a dark secret and the dark secret is that you're actually a Danganronpa girlie.
🍷Arlecchino: You're not a good person but you genuinely don't think it's that bad.
⚔️Clorinde: You have fallen prey to misinformation on numerous occasions before.
🩹Sigewinne: You'd sacrifice your liver to keep a person happy.
🐺Wriothesley: You can be appeased by an act of hot girl shit.
🌊Neuvillette: You need a man to kiss the back of your hand. Also you have a strained relationship with your mother.
💧Furina: You're delusional. Could be affectionate, could be derogatory, it varies from person to person.
🦟Paimon: You don't know shit but you have an opinion on everything.
🐋Tartaglia: Your exes all belong in jail. So does your current and next partner. You never fucking learn, do you?
💰Pantalone: You don't need a healthy relationship, you need a sugar daddy.
🖤Capitano: You are, amongst other things, a monsterfucker. You want to be destroyed, but, like, lovingly.
🎀Columbina: You are a mix of a pomeranian and a Biblically accurate angel.
🎭Pierro: You are fatherless on an Olympic level. You don't need a father, you need a daddy.
💫Lumine: You're a hot girl. You're either stupid or evil, but you're a hot girl. If you're not a girl, you are a red flag.
☄️Aether: You have a crippling crop top addiction and you have no idea what to do with your hair.
🌌Dainsleif: You date people before getting to know them, but don't understand why you don't get along with your partners.
678 notes · View notes
beiasluv · 1 year
Note
Kind of niche but what would happen if Lo’ak had a twin sister that was his polar opposite (calm, a healer, rule follower) but always gets dragged along on his dumb adventures anyway lol
lo’ak x polar opposite twin
a/n: so basically a female version of neteyam 😭 | anyways, enjoy 🤍
masterlist
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neteyam was thrilled when he learned that his younger sibling is not just a sibling but siblings
obviously, lo’ak came out of neytiri first. the gene is strong, people
you followed closely behind your twin brother
since a youngling, jake and neytiri noticed how their twins are similar yet different in so many ways
for sure, you guys are both more expressive and emotionally intelligent than the other sullys
jake spots his oldest daughter comforting a hurting animal or her siblings every now and then.
when you were just a toddler, barely walking, you were wiping a tear off his face. he didn’t know whether to continue crying or jumping up and down
lo’ak is more expressive when he is fighting for what he love, and that is what he prioritizes. sadly, jake dismissed his actions now and then
for instance, when he was trying to prove himself that payakan isn’t a killer to jake, he was dismissed as a troublemaker :(
you guys are very protective of each other, despite trying to kill each other as a toddler💀
so like, neteyam, kiri, jake, and neytiri would play together on the hammock. and then there is you and lo’ak fighting for a piece of snack
definitely learned to babble bad words at each other at very young age
cuz y’know you gotta learn how to protect yourself
but twins can only get so similar…(yes, i know, the sixth sense and all of that but…)
you are calmer, a healer, and a rule follower
neteyam favored you a little more than lo’ak, just because you are a little bit calmer :(
your twin brother? quite the opposite…
very TURBULENT, a fighter, and a rule breaker *insert jake face palming here*
often many:
y/n: “lo’ak no!”
lo’ak: “lo’ak yes!”
“bitch!”
but he is your brother after all, you will follow him wherever it takes
so basically, dragging yourself into trouble everytime. and if you haven’t caught it yet, jake is not happy about this.
probably because lo’ak is just using you to lessen the trouble jake will get him if he sees his weakness, you.
doing those bargaining EVERY-TIME
“please, come with me, i promise to keep you safe!” he urged you as he pulled on your arm.
“no, i am not falling for your trick again, what will i get? nothing!”
“please, please, please, i promise i will be good, please, i’ll cover the chores for this month,” he begged you on the floor.
“…”
“please, my beloved sister, i am begging you, dad will kill me if i am caught alone,” he hugged your leg.
“pl-ease, you know how this will end, so why are you still doing it?”
“pleaseeeee, 3 months, 3 months i’ll cover your chores”
“fine…and you better get my ass out if dad caught us”
“yes, ma’am”
always cursing at him but at the same time following behind his trail
mumbling things like: “dad’s going to kill you” “i think i wanna go back” “i don’t think that is a good idea” “let’s not go in there”
sometimes eywa is on your side and you came back unharmed and “uncaught”
but sometimes it doesn’t get so lucky.
even though you guys seemed like you would be pushing the blame on each other, you actually love him too much to see him get the blame himself.
especially when you know he is neglected by your dad the most, you just wanna make him feel a little bit better.
of course, he is always compared to neteyam and you got it a little bit easier because jake is such a girl dad
lo’ak just need a little more love and you are there to remind him that you care for him
for instance, one time, you got caught wandering into the forest at night with lo’ak. JUST BECAUSE he wanted to impress a girl and go find some plant that only glows in the night-
jake was mad MAD
he was like:
“SIT DOWN!” he ordered you both, you quickly gathered your tail and whimpered down to the floor. lo’ak stared hardly at your dad.
“please, lo’ak, just-“ you tugged his leg.
“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU! AND WHY would you drag your sister into this!” he was breathing in and out quickly and he tried to calm himself down.
“i am so-“
“please, dad, it wasn’t his fault, i am-“
“oH, i don’t think so, please, sweetheart, stop taking blame for each other, for eywa’s sake!” he shouted with the back of his throat, trying not the make the situation worst. you whimpered in your spot as your ear dropped back.
jake will feel bad for shouting at you more than lo’ak, so eventually he just dismissed you both 🙁 (butitmeansthathisplanworked)
BUT you love your twin too much that you will patch him up every time
earning “ouch”s and “ow”s from your brother as you did his wound intentionally harsher than before
“why are you doing this on purpose!” “OW-!”
“please, i am tired of you breaking the rules, sorry, i have to fight fire with fire,” you dapped the cloth on his wound.
anyways, just two siblings trying to get along as a kid, but ended up being the most supportive to each other when they grow up.
got those “no you can not have my french fries, but you can have my liver if you are going to die.”
take care guys! stay hydrated! 🤍
@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin
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chouettecrivaine · 8 months
Text
Ah, Young Love! [Our Life: Now & Forever]
Fandom: Our Life: Now & Forever
Characters: Qiu Lin, Tamarack Baumann
Notes: takes place during Step 1, so he/him is used for Qiu as that is how he identifies at this point in the story!
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So anyway I'm obsessed with how everybody wants Qiu but Qiu only has eyes for MC once they meet so I'm thinking about his silly little boyhood crush. And then I couldn't leave best girl Tamarack out of the love fest so here's just a few little things I was thinking about with them having childhood crushes on u <3
Note that only the demo is publicly available and I am not currently a patron so anything here that is proven true is coincidence and anything proven false is just me having a little fun
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Qiu Lin
So like. I've seen Qiu call you pretty twice in the demo. Once when you meet him if you choose to call him pretty first, and again towards the end of what's available in the demo when he's listing off reasons why you should be allowed to join the club..
I just think that whenever he talks about you he always has to let it slip that he thinks you're cute. "They had on a really nice hair clip today!" "Their hair looked so cute when they took off their hat at school." "When I picked them up to walk to school, I was so surprised at how pretty they looked!"
When he told his parents about you he probably said "this really pretty kid surprised me in our yard and we went on a miniature adventure!"
Also (and note that my MC uses she/her so im gonna quote him using gendered terms but only for this one instance) When he's introducing you to one of his friends, he starts off with your name and says "she's a girl!" (Or whatever terms you have set)
So I just think he says the most basic facts about you with so much awe and wonder 🥺 like you wore overalls to school? He talks like you invented denim. You had a funny comment or joke? It's like he's never heard one before in his life when he retells it.
I feel like…the first thing that makes him interested in you is that you're new. Not only does this make you fun to mess with, but it makes you far more interesting than the people he's known his whole life. Plus you, unlike Tamarack, don't immediately brush off the cool things he wants to show you or do with you if it isn't immediately your cup of tea.
Darren and Baxter are sick and tired of hearing your name !! If you're not around Qiu wonders aloud at least once if he should or should've invite(d) you. If he did invite you and you had to decline, then he wonders what you're doing.
The type of kid to skip out on his weekend chores at home and go to your house to help you unpack instead
Ok so MC says they used to live in an apartment, right? Probably in the city? And MC was only allowed to play on their own because Golden Grove is "a safe neighborhood?" What if MC doesn't know how to ride a bike. What if Qiu teaches them…
Whether you get a hang of it or not, he daydreams about doing that thing where he rides the bike and you sit backwards on the seat or on the handlebars or something
When he finds out you can't ride a bike, he definitely shows off by riding around without his hands on the handlebars.
Will teach you how to jump off the swing set too, then will have competitions over who can swing the highest and leap the farthest
I feel like Golden Grove has a cute little main street with a bunch of locally owned shops. If you're interested, he'll show you every. single. business. Even if most of them are "granny shops" he isn't interested in. He'll let you poke around for a bit :)
He has a special page in his notebook for all the little notes and doodles about you
If you look closely at the note he gives you after class, you can see the remnants of a few tiny little hearts that he erased!!
Going back to him offering you to ride on his bike: he probably got you in trouble once because you were on your front lawn and he rode up asking you to go on an adventure with him on his bike. You're expecting a fun little 20 min ride through the walkable path in the woods that'll have you back home by dinner. Instead he takes you to town and buys you ice cream and the two of you have to struggle your way back up the hill on foot and it takes like an hour and a half to get back and your mom was worried SICK
Buys a pack of pens with one/some of your favorite color(s) and writes you notes exclusively in that/those ink(s)
If you and your mom go somewhere and he knocks on your door while you're out, you will come home to see him sitting on the steps to your front porch and waiting for you
Before class starts, he always gives you a funny face or a wave. If you come in late because of a doctor's appointment or something, naturally a lot of the kids turn to look at your entrance, and he immediately waves at you. Maybe even says hi to you out loud if he knows Mrs. Murray is in a good mood / he can get away with it.
If he finishes his work early or something, he'll turn around in his seat and just watch you from across the room with major heart eyes. He smiles wider and waves when you notice.
Anything you compliment him on, he immediately draws attention to around others. Say his hair looks good today? He'll hit you with a "oh but not every other day?" but then tell his seatmates about what you said.
Buys extra portions of his little snack bags of chips and candy or whatever he likes when he can so that he can give them to you during lunch.
Gets on a kick and will pester you about having a secret handshake until you let him come up with one. He likes having special things just you and him 🥺
Probably invites you to his hideout at a specific time and day every week and he gets soooooo excited for that time to roll around.
Tries extra hard in your favorite subject, even if it's one he hates. He's not trying to be top of the class, but he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about something you care about!
If you like a class he's terrible at, he'll ask for your help! Or, if you struggle in a class he's good at, he'll volunteer to help you out even though he HATES the concept of doing extra schoolwork. That's how much he likes u
He'll do this with any windows but especially if one of your bedroom windows faces his: he will definitely pull a Taylor Swift in "You Belong With Me" and write notes for you guys to read to each other
Since he can't sit with you, he'll write you notes or make you doodles and then pretend he has to get up to sharpen his pencil so he can pass your desk and slip it to you
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Tamarack Baumann
Tamarack will straight up just stare at you 👁👁
She follows you around like a lost puppy and visibly brightens up when you're around
Looks forward to school because she gets to sit next to you all day! Like she'll skip happily along the path with you and Qiu and you'll ask her if she's looking forward to all these things and she'll just go "No!" and when you finally give up and ask why she says "because I get to spend the whole day next to you!"
When she goes to play in the woods, sometimes she'll spend a while in the shallower end of the tree line waiting to see if you'll come outside and play with her
Has definitely thrown sticks and pebbles at your back door to lure you out before she gets bored
Likes to go around and pick up the coolest rock, the prettiest flower, the biggest piece of tree bark, a leaf the size of her head…then before she goes home for the night, she stops by your house and gives what she picked up to you!!
If you're not home then she leaves it on your porch with a note, usually held down by a rock if it's not something heavy 
She'll be over the moon if you give her cool rocks and stuff you found. Even if you're literally giving her trash, like if you ONLY give her bottle caps or pop tabs you find on the sidewalk, she cherishes them. Would make jewelry out of them tbh
Ok so quick tangent but there's a book I read in about 4th grade called Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, and in it the love interest girl is the quirky type. One thing she has is a little decorative cart on her dresser which she puts rocks in every time she's happy and takes rocks out when she's sad. When the protag goes to her house and finds out, she explains how she has put the most rocks in it since meeting him. They kiss sometime after that and she puts another rock in and tells him about it. I think Tamarack would have a jar or a doll house bathtub and she would do the same thing, putting rocks in it when she's happy! So what I'm saying is give her plenty of rocks so she can exclusively use MC rocks for that 
Also will make matching jewelry for the two of you without even stopping to think if you even wear what she's making. She'll buy kits to make special rings and headbands, braid a million friendship bracelets out of multicolored string, use acorns she found to make earrings…anything! She is just as happy if you wear it then she is if you buy a jewelry display stand and show them off in your room. Eventually she adds keychains into the mix for some variety
Doesn't mean to spend a lot of her time waiting on you but she does. On weekends, instead of going directly into the woods, she'll just lie on her back in her yard and stare up at the clouds, completely still, daydreaming (about you) until she hears your door opening. Then she runs to you.
If any of your windows are open, particularly your bedroom window, she'll send a bunch of paper airplanes your way. Most of them make it! However, you've learned that if you find even one paper airplane inside, you're going to have to check that side of the house for more scattered on the ground
Grips onto your arms or your clothes whenever she can. You two are connected.
Makes a BIG effort to like anything that you like as much as you do! And when she follows you around, it doesn't really matter if you're doing something she doesn't care about. She just wants to spend time with you! It does make her whole week if you follow her into the woods, though.
She doesn't take notes in class, but you leave a writing implement out for her and sometimes she'll reach over and doodle a cute bear or something on your paper :)
If you say you're cold, she'll give you her scarf, no questions asked. Is also down to share but don't let her do that while you're walking because it WILL end badly 
Has wrapped the scarf around the two of you and tied you guys together before and yes it was the best recess of her life 
When walking, she tends to lean into you which sometimes almost turns into pushing you and Qiu into the road if you're not careful
Likes to drag you around places and pretty quickly invites you to her house. She doesn't tell her grandparents that she's inviting you over, so they're surprised by you almost every time, but they don't mind! She's dragging you up the stairs to her room too quickly for them to say anything anyway
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akunya · 1 year
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“companionship.”
pairings: android!hex haywire x m!reader
summary: can a robot and human fall in love?
tw: HYPNOSIS, NONCON, manipulation, yandere, etc. robot sex, voice fetish, onahole, voyeurism. size difference, belly bulging, etc.
notes: i love this cliche au of sex robots and things like that, so here’s my take on it.. with hex.
it’s probably terrible and i guess caters a certain niche, but let me know what you guys think.
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today was it - the day you’ve been waiting for! finally, after all your hard work throughout the year, you saved enough money to buy your own, state of the art, artificial intelligence assistant.
and, luckily for you, today was also the grand debut of a brand new line of androids: xsoliel.
your hands were as shaky as ever waiting in line at the mall, double checking your savings to assure yourself you weren’t dreaming. nijisanji’s new line of androids were practically everything anyone could ask for: equipped with unique and interesting designs and personalities for each member, xsoliel offered a variety of services: whether it was for your own selfish pleasure or to help with manual labor, there was surely somebody for you.
..or so, that’s how the commercial sounded anyways. you silently thanked humankind for blessing the world with this era of companion-droids. seeing the ad nearly a year ago, you were star struck at the first all-male line nijisanji had debuted: luxiem.
unfortunately, they were sold out and only resold at steep prices— but, a few lucky online bloggers raved about their features, endless posts about how amazing it was to have an assistant of your own. while they could’ve surely been exaggerating, ever since that moment, you put money aside each week, even taking on extra jobs to make a little more cash to achieve your dream.
and it was finally time to reap your benefits.
while you didn’t know much about xsoliel nor intended to coincidentally buy an android of your own on the day of their newest launch, that didn’t stop you from checking them out. reading the blurbs about each member peaked your curiosity even higher. “a delinquent? people really think of anything these days, huh?” chuckling, you let yourself playfully criticize each member. you quickly bit your tongue, thoughts coming to a halt after reading about a certain individual.
“..what kind of name is hex?” muttering to yourself, you couldn’t hide the faint blush on your face as you stared at the model inside of the store. sleek attire, it almost made him look like a professor than a robot. paired with optional glasses (why did he even need those? can’t he see perfectly?), hex’s design made your heart flutter. his official advertisement described him as a nurturing, gentle servant, perfect for new customers to start off with. illustrated to have a deep, nearly hypnotic voice, hex’s programming was assured to have his users satisfied and satiated with their purchase.
swiping your card at the checkout, you really hoped you made the right choice, signing off a couple waivers and documents the employee had given you.
just a week later, you realized you didn’t regret your decision at all.
living with an ai assistant could only be described as luxury. hex truly was made with a “newbie” owner in mind, and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you wonder who was really in charge. his sweet, charming voice, along with how gentle and kind he was towards you, lifted your spirits instantly.
for instance, hex was a wonderful outlet to talk to when things went wrong — and, as if it was magic, nearly every problem you spoke about washed away the next morning! your problems with coworkers quickly diminished, and you even got the raise you’ve been praying for months now. he’d always offer such delicate touches, hugs and shoulder massages when he notices you’re pent up from a long day. you couldn’t fight off the dreamy, floaty headspace you were in when he was around.
not to mention, hex even did some of the chores while you were at work without being told to. even though you felt too guilty to ask him to clean the house, he didn’t seem to mind, making sure you came home to a clean room and nicely folded laundry each day. hell, he even told you he was looking into cooking, something that wasn’t originally included in his list of abilities. hex seemed to go above and beyond for you each time, amazing you each day.
it was a normal friday night, and you were with him as you always were, spending most of your time with the robot.
“y/n, why don’t you ever want to use me for something else..?” the question made your face feel warm, hairs standing on the edge. you two were cleaning up the kitchen after preparing dinner. laughing awkwardly, you tried to shrug off his curiosity, shining a plate with a dish towel. “well, id never want to force you to do something you didn’t like, silly.”
hex’s brow furrowed, a hint of anger resting beneath the surface. who said i didn’t want to?” for an android , the way he spoke was jarringly natural. your eyes widened in surprise, speechless for a moment. hex talked so nonchalantly about sex, but you had to remind yourself he was still a robot after all. as human as his synthetic skin and olive eyes may look, he lacks a beating heart and flesh.
“i-im not sure i want to. im just not interested in that type of stuff right now..” you let your voice trail off, sitting and washing in silence before hex spoke up dangerously close to your ear.
“you don’t have to lie, baby. i can hear you in the middle of the night when you touch yourself.” his deep voice made you shudder, unable to move. didnt you tell him to shut himself off during the nighttime? you were sure you ordered him not to snoop around, especially on nights that you planned to indulge in yourself. gulping, you laughed awkwardly as hex didn’t seem to budge.
“ah, s-sorry for disturbing you, ill try and keep it down next time..” his hand enveloped your own, forcing you to meet his gaze. goodness, his hands were big. warm, soft, inviting — strong, too. hex squeezed your hands, not bothering to stop when you winced from the pain, smiling. “you don’t have to keep it down. you should let me help you.” the way hex spoke was as if he was demanding you, not letting go until you gave him an answer. “it’s what i was.. made to do, anyways.” his voice was filled with solemn, playing with your heartstrings.
the silence was weighing on your thoughts, biting your lip in anticipation. hex knew how to make you uncomfortable, how to give into his desires and requests even when you didn’t want to — on the surface, at least. “alright, i will..! next time ill let you help me, okay?” you huffed, hex letting go of your hands and putting them on your shoulders instead. “good boy. you’re listening so well.” you hated how warm his praise made you feel.
the next night you needed help came sooner than you thought, shamefully letting hex in when he knocked on the door. the android wasted no time making himself comfortable in your space.
“a-ah, hex, slow down! please!” his hand was wrapped around your fleshlight, pumping vigorously as you squirmed in between his legs. your back was pressed against his chest, caged in the ai’s arms as he pleasured you. he caught you trying to use it to get yourself off, and figured he’d give it a try.
except, he failed to mention that his hands also had a vibrating feature. the soft yet firm jelly of the fleshlight practically whirred against your dick, making the experience all too elevating, groaning as hex held you in his arms. this has to be what those bloggers were raving about, right? hex held the toy at the tip of your cock, squeezing a bit to snap you out of your thoughts. you practically sobbed out, eyes tears from how good his touch felt on your skin.
“yknow, when you look so vulnerable like this, it makes me want to ravage you. who knew my master could be so slutty?” you whined at that, the ai chuckling deeply. you could truly stop him by force if you wanted to, considering you were technically his owner, but god did he make it hard. spreading your legs open so he could continue to jerk you off like the pathetic loser you always were. feeling another orgasm coming, your moans started to get louder, nails digging into hex’s synthetic skin.
“shh, goodness y/n. you’re going to wake up the neighbors if you keep moaning like a slut. hmm..” the man hummed to himself, shuffling around while you were distracted. “maybe i should give you something more, right?” before you knew it, his cock was circling your hole, causing you to panic.
“wait, h-hex! that’s too much, im already tired!” you tried to fight back, scrambling in his lap. his hands held up underneath your legs, holding you in place with his strength. of course he could overpower you — he was a robot, for gods sake. even though you were still painfully hard, you couldn’t imagine having sex with an ai of all things.
that is, until you felt something whirr against your ass.
oh.
of course, that part of him vibrates too. why wouldn’t it? as if hex couldn’t be too good at what he does already, it was as if his manufacturer wanted to overkill him with all these extra functions. hex laughed at your stillness, kissing the back of your neck. “i promise it feels good.”
he didnt bother giving you any warning either, nor waiting for an answer, slamming your hips down and shoving himself inside. even if his cock was lubricated, it still hurt like hell, making you cry out in pain. you’ve never felt so full before — just how big was he? you remember a conversation with the clerk at the store that day when you first bought hex. they had asked you about sizes.. but you thought they were just talking about his height, opting for the biggest size they had available. what an idiot. no wonder the clerk blushed a bit at your response.
slowly, hex rolled his hips against yours, his dick stretching you out against your will. “i always imagined us like this, baby. id take care of you, and you’d.. well, take it.” hex smiled, groaning in your ear as his dick nearly stirred up your insides. your brain couldn’t think of anything to say in response, too full to retaliate against the androids firm grip.
“you look stupid, baby. can you feel me? riiight here? look at how well you’re taking me.” hex’s cool fingers pressed against your stomach, nudging the bulge from his cock and making you whine even louder. your poor little cock was like a fountain, leaking nonstop as his pace didn’t falter.
it felt as if you were the one helping him out in this position. the ai was unexpectedly loud in bed, moaning and whispering about how well behaved you were, and how he’ll spoil you like this everyday from now on. every day? could you even handle that? with how he was taking control, surely there was something wrong with his wiring. you started to think about how to return and maybe get someone to take a closer look at his hardware, before a painfully deep thrust snapped you out of your thoughts.
“o-oh!” you were embarrassed by the yelp you let out, your body trembling before finally releasing, soiling the sheets underneath you two. “it seems like you’re doing a lot of thinking today, y/n. what could possibly be on your mind other than me?” hex, amused, chuckled in response, kissing and licking the back of your neck. “good boy. that’s it, let it out. only think of me from now on, okay?” his voice felt so dreamy; so hypnotic.
“y-yes sir,” you managed to mutter our, much to hex’s chagrin. he didn’t need any recovery period since he wasn’t human, so the robot simply got back to milking you dry, pounding into your tight hole like an animal in heat.
you’d never find out that hex’s model was recalled for several malfunctions and viruses, he made sure of that.
how else would he give you everything so easily?
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atarathegreat · 5 months
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Rise and Shine
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It's no secret that Ran prefers his sleep to anything else. Not even Rindou is safe from his brothers wrath if he so happens to wake up when he doesn't want to. For years Ran terrorized anyone who dared be in the same house as him as he slept. No one dared to even breath out of the wrong nostril.
But you, oh, you! You never needed to be fretful of his backlash, no! Because you have the powerful Haitani wrapped around your pretty fingers, twisted around your wishes and bent to your will. He didn't care about how loud you were, though he would have attitude with you throughout the day. Rindou is never not impressed by how freely you walk around the house while his brother sleeps off a bad day. There are no eggshells under your feet when you walk and no barrier of fear keeping you from finishing the daily chores.
The moments you kept to yourself are from early in the day, when the sun is barely up and the blankets are still wrapped around you both, warmth being shared between lovers in the early morning where cold still envelops the outside air. You wake up and wait patiently for Ran to roll and face you, because even you know your limits of what Ran would tolerate from you. So you wait and wait and wait, until finally he rolls to his stomach to rest his head on his arms. Pouty lips tempt you for only a second to kiss him (another instance that Ran would wake up in a less than stellar mood), but you refrain.
Months living with the man have made you privy to sweet ways to wake him with a smile so you could safely be obnoxious and loud. Neat brows crease as you touch his cheek, tapping gently in the shape of a heart to get his attention slowly.
"Ran, Ran wake up." You whine, quiet enough that if he was sleeping deeply you wouldn't actually wake him. In truth, you could watch the sunrise alone, but Ran had never failed to wake with you, yet. Maybe today was the day he did?
A deep groan makes you smile, he's awake and he's listening to the words you say. "Ran, the sun." You kiss the tip of his nose, icing to the delicate cake you're making. Those beautiful eyes you love finally open, his lilac staring back into yours as he smiles just enough, "Already?" And your overly giddy nodding makes him huff, but he still stands from the bed to stretch. He would never make you watch the sunrise alone, not since he knew just how wonderful the early light looked when it was bouncing off your skin or how peaceful your eyes were with the sun reflected in the dark pupils, pupils turned pinpoints because you were dumb enough to try and stare straight at the sun.
"Come, I'll make coffee before we head out this morning." Ran stretches deeply, the tattoo on his arm twisting almost as harshly as he does to make you happy. It's adorable to Ran that you trot after him, smile lopsided like his white button up that falls off your shoulder. He takes a brief moment to adjust the fabric, freeing your other shoulder and undoing the top button so he can see the rounded top of your breasts you look cute and not like you just woke up. "Beautiful, as always." He smirks, kissing your cheek.
Ran never watches the sun, he's to busy watching the way you light up at the sight. No one understood your affinity to wake up so early just to watch the sun rise and drink coffee. It was something Ran was glad he didn't understand, instead he enjoyed your little quirk, as if your body refused to let you miss another day. And he accepted it as a message that seemed to say Look, another day starting and you are here to see it. It not only made him feel untouchable, but it forced him to recognize his crippling mortality.
"Look, Ran! The birds!" The way you gasp, the way your jaw falls open, he loves it. He thinks that amazement is a great look on you.
A fleeting thought of setting an alarm to wake him up before you have to tap at his cheeks flashes in his brain before he shakes it away. Ran would prefer that you just tap his face and kiss his nose every morning, as always.
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furiousgoldfish · 3 months
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While growing up in an abusive family, a part of me strongly refused to grow up, in fact it's still resisting it. I thought at first, it was because I was taught that I am less and less valuable as I age, but it wasn't only that. It turns out, growing around mostly abusive people, can give you some horrifying notions of what it means to be an adult.
I am going to write down how I perceived adulthood, as an abused kid, because I need to work on it myself, and if there's somebody else feeling this, know that these are not your only option for a future:
All adults are stupid, unkind, boring, bitter, aggressive, obsessed with money, do not understand people around them at all.
All adults have to play specific roles assigned to them and don't step outside of these roles. For instance: mother, grandma, father, aunt, teacher, uncle, neighbour. All roles are restrictive and people can only do whatever is assigned to this role (cleaning, cooking, working a job, going to army, being married, etc)
Adults can't play, be curious, or have fun. Adults have to be focused on their role and stay grumpy, serious, bitter and busy. They don't laugh except when drunk.
Adults are having it tougher than children. They are unloved, uncared for, nobody considers them nice or pretty, nobody wants them around or gives them gifts. Adults are permanently unwanted and undesired everywhere.
Adults have good opinions only of people who are already dead. Everyone alive is constantly being humiliated, shamed and criticized. It's better to be dead.
Adults don't care about children, and only think the worst of children. Adults think children should only exist to work and to be yelled at. Adults are dangerous.
Adults don't care about friendships, loyalty, kindness, courage, bonds, closeness, care, or love. Adults friendships are drinking and smoking in the same room while talking badly about every other person in their life. They don't play, laugh or share things. It's a big game of pretense that the other has it better.
Adults lie and fake everything. They lie about their home life, about what they know, about money. They lie about, and to their children. They tell lies confidently. They make things up if they don't know and then tell those lies as if they're truths. They don't feel guilt if caught lying and instead double down on it.
Adults have money but they can't spend it. They have to keep paying bills and they never have enough money for bills and food. They will buy alcohol and cigarettes though, but they're always stressed about bills. They consider it children's fault.
Adults are endlessly stressed about having to 'feed a family'. This is so bad that they actually end up hating their families. They wish all of their children were dead so they wouldn't have to feed them. They can't seem to stop having children but also hate feeding them. It's like they're forced into it.
Adults have to work constantly. They work their jobs and have to do endless chores when they get home. They have to get up early to do chores and do them late at night. They have to do everything alone, unless they can get a child to do it for them. They can't select not to do it, they have to shift it to someone else to avoid it. Adults have no free time, or hobbies. They have to work at all times and always know what needs to be done.
 Adults have bodies that work less and less. They can't run, climb or jump. They're always having surgeries and can barely walk. Their backs and hips hurt and they complain about the pain every time they need to do anything. They blame the work for this but can't stop working. They're still somehow stronger than children when they want to hurt children, and then they're fully mobile. But at all other times they appear sickly and need stuff done for them.
Adults never get over anything that ever happened to them. They're always victimized by everything that ever happened to them. We the children have to get over things instantly, but they are angry and bitter about the past forever. They hold grudges against family members forever. They freely take things out on other family members. They never forgive or forget or calm down.
Adults are not passionate about anything. Their main priority is looking good in front of others and convincing everyone they're better than they are.
Adults selectively care when someone is crying. If it's someone they don't know, they'll act nice about it. If they know the person they will tell them to shut up and stop annoying them. It's like they fall for strangers tears but see through anyone else's as pretense. I don't understand.
Adults die and then other adults get drunk at their funerals. They say you need to cry but they're only serious for the public part and then go and have parties where they just laugh with everyone. Adults don't care about the dead people but say you're not supposed to say anything bad about them now they're dead. They pretend they cared while the person was alive but they didn't. They obsessively clean and decorate graves just for others not to think they 'didn't care'.
Adults will betray anyone's secrets. Adults will tell other adults whatever you told them in confidence. Adults cannot be trusted with information.
Adults judge and badmouth anyone who doesn't act the way they think people are supposed to act. They will impose their own rules and morals on others and shame anyone who doesn't agree. They insist that everyone needs to follow their assigned family role even though they complain about hating their own. They use the most horrid slurs for people they consider 'bad at their role' and write these people off as parasites and worthless people
Adults all agree children should be obedient, quiet and never want anything or disturb them. They want children only to present them with achievements and work for the rest of time.
Adults have sex but nobody is supposed to say anything about it. It's unclear whether they want to be doing it. If it's a part of a role it doesn't seem like they can say no.
Adults can't be cared for or pampered like children can. Adults do not get candy or chocolate. Adults say it's because children are cute and they're not. Adults are jealous of children. Adults complain about not being cared for.
Adults don't understand how hard children have it and always say being a child is the easiest and best time of life. They seem jealous and tell children to be grateful because it's only going to get worse. I can't imagine surviving worse. They claim their childhood was better than anything they deal with now because food was free and they didn't have to have a job.
Adults have no freedom. They have to stay with family and play their role. They can't survive otherwise. They leech off of each other and hate everyone. They live by imposed rules that force everyone to stay together even if they hate each other. They hate everyone around them. They feel loyal to no one. They bring misery to themselves and people around them and don't feel shame or responsibility for anyone they've hurt or ruined.
Adults don't see others as people with their own inner world. They insist that everyone except them is stupid, shallow, mindless and worthless.
Adults are all cowards who will submit to anyone who is stronger and louder. They'll only fight those who are weaker. They don't care about justice and will happily punish victims in unfair fights. They themselves are bitter and upset if they don't get the justice.
Adults only ever look out for themselves. They don't care about other people. They want money and others to admire them and to serve them. If that is not happening they are angry and bitter at the entire world.
Adults don't see good in other people. They don't see what someone else needs or deserves. They don't care about adventures or magic. They don't have wonder or awe inside of themselves. They don't even look at beautiful things in front of them. They don't care about nature, animals or trees. They don't care about books or knowledge, or reading. They don't care about stories or legends. They don't care about people who suffer so badly they want to die. They judge people for suicide.
They don't care about creating or making something unless it can be sold for money. They don't even tolerate others doing it.
They love no one. Everything they do is a drag and a pain to them and they want to push their work on someone else all the time. They don't care about anything except money and how to get more attention and keep pretenses. They have no true friends or care for anyone. All they have is work, rules and roles they need to act. Their lives are meaningless. Even though they have money they cannot travel or use it for fun or joy. They don't think anyone should be free to do as they want. They have no dignity or honor but pretend they do when in company. They yell but pretend they're victims for 'having to yell'.
They don't care if someone wants to die because of their actions. They don't care for anyone who wants to live differently. People who live differently are worthless and stupid to them. They think they're the only ones who are always right even when they're always wrong.
Adults are convinced that when I grow up this will all make sense and I will grow up to be exactly like them
If you felt as a child, or still do, that these are the truths of adulthood, and something you'll end up becoming, it's not true, and it's mostly just abusers who live their lives in this manner. If this is the only thing you've ever known and seen as a child, adulthood would be terrifying and feel like you'd have to lose your soul in order to become like this.
I'll write another follow-up debunking these and writing what I feel adulthood is right now. It's just definitely not that. And living around people who act like this is normal, is traumatic.
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hellyeahsickaf · 4 months
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You know how you look back at past shitty connections, friends, family dynamics, and relationships and you're like "I can't believe I let them treat me that way"? I think it hits differently with disability because when you're disabled you don't always even know that you're being mistreated and/or abused in regards to it.
I know statistically disabled people are more likely to be abused but sometimes there's an additional type of abuse that's hard to identify even in hindsight because no one tells you how abusive it is.
But ableist abuse relating to your disability can look like:
Pushing you to do things beyond your limitations despite their awareness of them.
Blaming you for the "inconveniences" brought on by things beyond your control (ex: missing a movie because you had to wait for your pain meds to kick in).
Not allowing you to take breaks or antagonizing you when you do.
Bullying or making fun of things you can't help like gait, a lisp, an embarrassing symptom.
Trying to "cure" or "fix" you, often framing it as "helping" you. Sometimes they look similar and you might be able to tell by their reaction towards lack of improvement.
Holding over you the things they have to do for you (cooking, cleaning, driving, working, etc).
Giving ultimatums that demand things of you that you can't do (getting a job, keeping up with multiple chores).
Using insulting terms, language, and/or slurs that you have not permitted them to or in a context where there is intent to harm you.
Interrogating you about your disability or trying to find discrepancies between your experiences and what they've heard/read/seen about it.
Implying or saying anything along the lines of you faking, being lazy, or exaggerating. Reducing you to a hypochondriac, saying you enjoy being disabled because you seem to like having things done for you, or that you're lazy or abusing them by depending on them for things.
Asking you about it not to learn more, but to use it against you in some way.
Having a martyr complex, acting as if they're a hero for giving you the support you deserve.
Calling you a burden, implying you to be one, or treating you like one.
Acting like you owe them a debt, sometimes even demanding some kind of repayment. Keeping track of money they spend on you that you won't be able to pay back, feeling entitled to things like control, sex, a portion of government benefits, etc.
Self victimizing. They act like you being disabled causes more suffering to themselves than you.
Accusing you of being addicted to your medication. If you genuinely develop an addiction a normal response is concern not rage, finger pointing, etc. if you don't have one baseless claims are very harmful
Trying to force you to stop "depending" on things you need like medication and disability aids
Comparing you to others that are doing "better" than you. Maybe showing you inspiration porn of someone with no legs for example doing incredible things- which is great for them but the "I don't let my disability stop me so you can do anything" shit is harmful. Some of us will get very unwell if we try, and some just can't.
Trying to make others also see you as dramatic, faking, or lazy. Often embarrassing and mocking you as well.
Withholding things you need like medication or disability aids as a punishment
Saying your disability is karma or something inflicted by a divine entity/religious figure. Maybe as punishment for not praying, being queer, or something else they disagree with.
Saying that it's a result of being "promiscuous"/LGBT. For instance if you have HIV or ME/CFS that was a result of something like mononucleosis ("kissing disease").
Shaming you for things related to your disability beyond your control or expressing embarrassment over these things. including but not limited to: appearance (general but also things like say a lupus butterfly rash or weight gain/loss), having to lay down in public (ex: with POTS), inability to keep up with hygiene, etc.
Lacking boundaries and acting as if they are entitled to information or intrusion of your space/belongings due to the power they hold over you and assistance they may provide.
Implying/saying you're living an extended vacation. Maybe one they say they wish they had because they have to do x y z while you "sit around"
Abandoning you solely for your disability (ex: because you can't hang out, they don't want a disabled partner, think you're faking, etc)
Note that someone doing one or two of these things a few times doesn't always mean they're abusing you (also depends on which). It's about the patterns and frequency of this behavior as well as refusal to improve once aware that they're hurting you. People who care about you don't want to hurt you and the normal response is to do their best not to repeat the action that negatively affected you
There are more examples and you can feel free to list some
✨This is about physical illnesses and disabilities, please don't derail✨
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