Tumgik
#pushing it in different directions for different stories
kissatoru · 3 days
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𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆
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pairing. sub!werewolf!toji fushiguro x dom!gn!reader
synopsis. stories and fables always warn of the big bad wolf, but personally, you think he makes quite a cute pet.
content. PORN WITH PLOT YAYY, no curses/modern/alternate magic au, bratty asf sub!toji, mean dom!reader, reader is super strong and beats toji’s ass lol, canon-typical violence, cigarette smoking, outdoor sex, degradation, brat-taming, mild pet play, shoe humping, cock stepping, pain kink, s/m dynamic, handjob, edging, pet (?) names (darling, sweetheart [receiving; condescendingly] + pup, puppy, puppy dog [giving; also condescendingly]), anal fingering, spit and cum as lube, spanking, reader refers to themself as ‘master’ once, morally grey + dubcon ending
notes. finally finished!! thank you for your patience til now :,) this fic kinda ran away from me while i was writing it so it’s different to what i initially planned but hopefully people are still into it. also it’s my first time writing toji so i hope i did him justice!! anyway, please consider reblogging if you enjoy<3
wc. 9.2k
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The footsteps started when you were about halfway home.
In sync with yours. Heavy yet carefully quiet, faint but noticeable, at least to someone who goes on walks in the woods as often as you. Human, as well — too calculated not to be — and someone with a broader gait, by the sounds of it.
After a few moments of inner-debate, you stop. The footsteps stop too.
Your eyes swiftly scan your surroundings. Nothing — but you keep your guard up as you slip a cigarette out of the tin in your coat’s breast pocket, then a lighter from your trouser pocket. Between your lips, you rest the cigarette and cup your hand over the lighter’s flame. Its warmth is intimate against your cold skin, in both its temperature and familiarity. The thin misty stem of scorched tobacco blooms in the air.
You absentmindedly dig a little divot in the dirt with the tip of your shoe, and chance another curt look around you, but still nothing. Minutes tick by and eventually you decide to resume your walking, though at a more leisurely pace this time. And as you do so, those footsteps return — tenfold. Soft, distant taps turn into violent hits against the earth. Nearer and nearer they draw, but you keep facing forward, not a stutter in your step or a falter in the lazy in and out of smoke.
Until a looming presence enters your peripheral vision.
A blur is your only warning. Then an arm cinches around your throat.
You jab your lit cigarette into the man’s arm. A raspy, “Son of a bitch,” puffs into your ear, but he doesn’t let go.
Okay. Don’t panic. Focus.
You try again. Spread your stance. Secure your grip. Jump, legs in the air, and throw yourself back down. His body hunches over yours. You propel back up. Hurl him over your back.
He grunts as his body slams the ground. You rush to immobilise him. He manoeuvres out of the way.
Back on his feet in seconds, he’s already charging at you. Too fast for you to dodge. You block with your arms. His fist lands like a nuclear bomb. Pure power. All at once. Leaves aftershocks like an earthquake. But still, you stay standing.
Your assailant huffs, something that sounds both pissed off and surprised, before he directs another attack. Straight for your torso.
You catch his wrist and twist it. He thrusts a leg out at your feet.
The forest around you flips upside down. Your back and the ground collide. Pain in your spine. A shadow above you. Weight on your hips. Pressure around your neck.
You grip one of your attacker’s arms. Pivot your feet round his legs. Ram your pelvis upward.
Your vision carousels. You’re on top of him. He pushes you off.
On your feet. Both of you.
A narrow miss, the edge of his knuckles swiping past your temple.
You leap back. He surges forward.
You attack before he does — a roundhouse kick to his face.
The assailant’s head spins ninety degrees. He brings a hand up to his nose, sharply inhaling as he touches it, before turning back to you.
He swings again. You knock it away. Strike his diaphragm. Then his skull.
He doubles over. You double down. Spear your knee into his face. Once. Twice. Three times. Full force, no respite. You aim for his diaphragm again with the heel of your foot.
He stumbles backwards and hits a tree. His body slumps to the ground.
He goes to get up. You pin your shoe to his sternum and shove him back. “Stay down.” You lean forward, his rib cage fighting against the compression. “Who are you? Why are you attacking me?”
Blood oozes down his chin from his nose. “Why d’ya think I’d tell you anything?”
You answer with a backhanded smack across his face.
He coughs at the impact and spits out the blood in his mouth. “Feisty, aren’t ya?” His lips stretch into a vengeful smile, laying bare his orange-stained teeth.
That’s when you notice a distinguishable scar, thick and ridged, spliced through his lip. Next, his teeth — tapered, dog-like. Then the pointy mammal ears sticking out of his hair, the furry black tail resting beside him…
There’s no doubt in your mind. It’s him. World renowned assassin: Hellhound, the Sorcerer Killer. Half-man, half-wolf; rumoured to be the only one of his kind. Willing to do anything for the right price is his motto. Until now, you’ve only ever heard of him, but now that you’re face to face… Well, he certainly looks the part, but if he was really as good as people say he is, your current positions would likely be reversed.
“I take it my reputation precedes me?” Toji pipes up cockily, apparently picking up on the recognition in your stare.
You avoid the question, lest it feeds the ego that is undoubtedly big enough already. “How much are you getting paid?”
Toji wipes the blood under his nose and looks up at you. “Not enough to be dealing with all this, tha’s for sure,” he remarks snidely.
You fold your arms across your chest. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind giving me the details of your employer.”
“Nah,” Toji argues back with slitted eyes and a chin angled up arrogantly. “Afraid I’m bound by contract, sweetheart.”
You smack him again, but all it does is garner a chuckle.
“If slapping me’s as far as you’re willin’ to go to get me to talk,” Toji scoffs before gazing up at you, “then we’re gonna be here a while, darlin’.”
Eyes narrowed, you contemplate other courses of action, different methods of both torture and persuasion.
As if embracing his current position, Toji rests back against the tree, casual despite the circumstances being everything but. “Look. You’re not gonna get me to rat out my client, alright? So unless you wanna start talking numbers, I suggest you just give–”
Your boot stomps down on Toji’s groine.
His jaw drops open and an almost inaudible moan spills out. “Ah… fuck.”
Not quite the reaction you were going for. Still, you curiously lean your leg forward, pressing the sole of your shoe down harder against Toji’s crotch. His head slumps forward, dark hair curtaining over his eyes. A barely-suppressed groan finds its way out of him.
“No way,” you breathe, incredulous. “You like this, don’t you?” You stifle a laugh. “What, not every day you get your ass handed to you, huh? I bet you didn’t even know you were into this.”
He peers up at you, grin flashing like a switchblade. “Don’t act like you’re any better.”
“Oh, I don’t have to act like it.” You roll your foot around in focused circles, watching how Toji’s breath gets heavier with each one. Your silhouette towers over him, tall and proud; carving its shape into the veil of moonlight behind you. All your features melt away in the shadows draped over your face — all except your smile, which perseveres with deadly determination and even deadlier teeth. They’re not anything special, sure; they don’t hold a light to Toji’s, yet they instil a sense of unease that someone of his size and strength and species is entirely unfamiliar with. And as he watches your tongue glide across the edge of them, shining and sinister, he realises that maybe it’s not the teeth themselves that are the threat. Maybe it’s what lies behind them; the person they belong to, who is staring down at him like a tiger eyeing a pound of flesh.
“You’re the one whose pitiful dick is under my boot right now, after all.”
Matted black ears tuck back against his head, just as any cornered animal’s might, as Toji scowls up at you. “Shut up. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
You look him up and down, from the tips of his twitchy ears to the bottom of his fluffy tail. The pinkening of his cheeks, his glossy eyes staring up at you. Puppylike. “I’d say I have a pretty good idea actually,” you say, holding in a giggle.
Toji snarls. “I’m warning y…” A breathy moan slips past his defences, so delicate you’d never suspect it could come from a man as big and burly as him. “Fuck– fuck you. If you’re gonna touch me, at least do it properly, you fucking… coward.”
His glare melts into scrunched eyebrows and squeezed-shut eyes as you sink more pressure onto his cock.
“Why would I do that? You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine like this,” you tease, and follow it with a quickened but not yet fast pace; something steady enough to not be teasing but slow enough to keep him wanting.
Toji growls. “Bastard,” he spits, but the word’s intention is lost in the air that flutters around it, turning it soft and feeble as his jaw quivers. Another brief second of honesty, a momentary crack in his composure, but that locked jaw returns as soon as Toji notices it. The look on his face is unchanged, but you’re not sure if it’s because he truly believes he’ll come out on top by the end of this, or if he’s just waiting for you to prove you’re worthy of his surrender.
“It’s not enough,” he pants out. His hands clench into fists around the soil he sits in as his hips move against your shoe. It’s still not discreet enough to go unnoticed by you — though you opt to avoid mentioning it, in favour of continuing down the path of opportunity he’s already opened up for you with his response.
“No, I think it is,” you insist, syncing your foot’s movements to Toji’s hips. Already so lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realise it. “I think you could cum just like this, riding my shoe like a worthless whore.”
Clawed fingers and calloused palms constrict around your calf. The tightness of his grip gives the impression that he’s trying to stop you, but you can feel the way he uses it to meet his grinding motions.
It’s quite the show, really. A man — a beast — like Toji, beneath you in such a way, with his eyes closed in oblivious concentration, his lips parted ever so slightly and his strained breaths hot against your shin. Dark lashes on rosy cheeks. Hair swept across his eyes, shifting with every movement.
It’s too bad it can’t last.
What you said certainly implies that you plan to make him finish like this, but all it really is is a trap. No beast can truly resist temptation, after all, and Toji is no different. He’ll pretend to hate every second of this, but there is no denying that the only reason you’ve gotten this far is because he wants it. Desperately. Carnally. He might scowl at your degrading words, but in the end, he chases after the promise that’s whispered over their shoulder, the promise that he longs for so deeply that he doesn’t realise its hushed voice is really his own in disguise.
You rake your fingers through his hair, collecting sweat and the strands obscuring his face into a fist. A yank drags his face into the moonlight, and a groan from his throat. “Alright, that’s enough,” you declare, the words cutting and final. “Get off me, fleabag.”
Toji’s lip curls up in a snarl and his canines gleam beneath the pale skin. “The fuck d’ya mean ‘that’s enough’?”
You scoff. “Exactly that.” Darkness drips over Toji’s face as you lean over him. “Now get off of me before I fucking make you.”
For a second, you think you’ll need to repeat yourself one more time — his eyes are narrowed and his lips pursed, a look of reluctance if you’ve ever seen it — but then the hands around your leg loosen, until all that’s left behind is the autumn breeze against the lingering imprint of his warm palms. The grin you find yourself wearing is so wide you feel your teeth pressing through your lips. A brat’s obedience, no matter how small, is always a victory worth celebrating.
“So what now?” Toji sighs and leans back on his hands, legs still spread. Boredom sculpts his features, but the colour in his cheeks betrays his façade. Try as he might, he’s not nearly as good at hiding his true desires as he thinks. And when you only smile in response, he raises an eyebrow. “Well?” A scarred hand confidently slides down to the space between his thighs, the thick fingers parting and tracing the silhouette of his hard cock. Wolfish fangs pull at his bottom lip and a harsh breath rushes out through his nose. “You just gonna stand there… or are you gonna come and finish what you started?”
You lean your weight back, arms folded across your chest, and chuckle. “I can’t really win, can I?” you say with playful resignation. “Either way, you’ll enjoy it.”
He grins — the kind of shit-eating grin that’s designed to scorch your nerves down to their roots. Whether that’s a good or a bad kind of sensation depends entirely on the person. In Toji’s case? It’s somehow both.
“Better make your choice quick then,” Toji remarks, his tone equal parts raspy and sultry. “If ya don’t hurry, I’ll just finish myself off right here and now.” The tip of his tongue peeks out between his sharp moonlit teeth, mirroring your action from before.
You snicker and give him a pitied once-over. “Darling, I assure you that’s not the threat you think it is.”
Furry ears jerk in place as Toji sucks his teeth. “Get down here and suck my cock before I rip your throat out then.” The words tumble out of him like he’s rushing to get them out — evidence of his growing desperation, or perhaps of his courage, waning in the imminent promise of consequence.
“There,” he says with finality, lips stretched into a half-cocky, half-frustrated snarl. “‘That threatenin’ enough for ya now, bitch?”
You swiftly snatch his face up in one hand and Toji flinches — just a split-second scrunch of his eyes, but it’s enough to tell you caught him off guard. You’re not really acting out of anger so much as greed though; craving and chasing after those tiny yet monumentally satisfying slip-ups in his reactions. “You are awful mouthy for some dog that was humping my foot until a minute ago.”
“Yeah, and?” he barks back, with enough gall to still be smiling against your palm. “What are you gonna do about it, huh?”
Suppressing another laugh, you draw closer to him; not quite eye-level, just ever so slightly elevated. “You know, it’d be kind of cute how badly you want me to fuck you if you weren’t so fucking insufferable about it.” Your nails, though blunt in comparison to Toji’s claws, carve impressive crescents into his skin under the force of your tensed fingers. “But don’t forget that you’re below me, mutt. I can stop any time. I can go home and never think about you again, but you?” You laugh through your nose and push his skull into the bark of the tree behind him. A clawed hand clamps around your wrist, but you don’t move an inch. “You’ll be the one jerking off in the middle of a fucking forest, like some filthy creep, fantasising about all the things I didn’t do to you but could have had you just stopped being a brat for one goddamn second.”
An airy breath leaves you, charged with equal parts exasperation and glee and resulting in something akin to a laugh. The mockery behind the noise fails to affect Toji, however. Those night-black ears remain flat against his skull, and those indigo eyes remain glaring at you, but the tightly-sealed lips below them tell you he’s biting his tongue — figuratively, though perhaps also literally. It doesn’t seem too far of a stretch to assume he’d go to such lengths to keep from arguing back, after all.
You smooth your free hand over your hair and readjust the grip of the other on Toji’s face. He grunts at the action, but those lips don’t budge, not even a twitch. The silence that follows is unfamiliar, but not completely unwelcome. Even rewarding, in a way.
“So what’s it gonna be, puppy dog?” you ask lazily, though not without that telltale flicker of amusement in your voice. “Are you gonna be a good boy?” You tilt your head and smirk. “Or would you prefer to jizz here in the dirt with just your hand and imagination like a pathetic loser instead?”
You feel how he grinds his teeth, that slow mechanical shift of his jaw and the muffled chalky sound of bone grating against bone in his mouth. Curiosity beckons you to wonder what’s going on inside that head of his; what words he’s rummaging through his mind for, what kind of responses he’s drafting and redrafting, if any at all. What does a beast of his calibre have to say to a lowly human like you, daring to tame and subdue him?
In the darkness below your form, you catch a cautionary rise and fall of his hips. Just one small short nudge of his pelvis, forwards then back again. And before you can comment on it, Toji speaks, low and not entirely begrudgingly:
“Put me in my place then.”
Immediately, your lips slide into a smile, but you restrain from getting too excited just yet. “Is that an order? Or a plea?”
Midnight eyes dart away from yours; no words follow.
“Well? Answer me,” you snap at him. “You can do it now or I can just leave, remember? Either option is fine by me.”
Toji groans. “It’s… I’m– I’m asking.” He sighs heavily and the hand around your wrist loosens, twitches. He still refuses to look at you amidst this all, it seems. But you wait some more, let the silence linger a little longer, just in case.
He sighs again. Still doesn’t look at you, but a quiet little, “Please,” squeezes through gritted teeth.
“Can I get that in a full sentence?” you say, polite enough to seem genuine at first, but paired with that condescending grin of yours, it’s not at all convincing. “I just want to be sure I’m understanding you correctly.”
Toji’s eyes finally return to yours. “You’re pushing your fucking luck,” he growls.
“Oh, I am? I’m pushing my luck?” You pause, but not to let him answer; on your face is a look that tells him he’s the one pushing his luck, that he’s misstepped — and should take that step back before he regrets it. “Sorry, who’s doing who a favour by being here, again?” You’re no longer smiling, but the condescension in your tone remains. “Remind me because I seem to have forgotten.”
His eyes flick away and you’re met instead with the silence you have grown somewhat fond of.
Then, eventually: “You,” he answers and his Adam’s apple bumps against your wrist as he swallows. “I want you to…” He hesitates, tense neck muscles relaxing in your hand, eyes closing, pressing shut. Hard. Reluctant, even now.
“To put me in my place… Please.”
A sickeningly delighted snicker escapes your throat. “Well done, puppy,” you praise, giving a few patronising pats to his cheek, making Toji flinch, before you let go of his face. “I knew you could do it! Who’s a good boy?” You ruffle his hair alongside your fake coo to rub salt into his wounded ego.
Toji sucks his teeth, refusing to give you the satisfaction of anything other than that as a reaction to your satirical tease. You just hum to yourself gleefully. You’re happy either way — you have him right where you want him, after all.
You stand up straight, returning to your position above him. “Alright. Be a doll and take your pants off for me.”
A scarred lip tugs up toward his cheekbone, canine teeth peering out. “No ‘please’?”
Easy as that, the cheerful expression on your face distils into stone cold eyes and unmoving lips, leaving the wordless air to speak for you. Briskly after, Toji begins sliding off his black pants until they bunch up at his ankles. He looks up at you. “Want my shoes off too, perv?” he jokes, proudly grinning.
Ignoring him, you step over his legs, so your feet are either side of them, then sit down. His thighs squirm under you.
“Uh, what–”
“Be quiet,” you demand.
And for once, Toji does so without further hesitation or questioning.
Your fingertips trail down his torso, his skin spasming under the fabric of his t-shirt at the featherlight contact. Down his chest, stomach, navel, catching on the waistband of his underwear, passing over it. Fingers dance and butterfly around the outline of his cock and back again. Slow and gentle but purposeful touches. His chest stutters, his abdominal muscles contract. You continue, motions repeating in hypnotic succession of one another like shifting waves. The thighs beneath you begin to fidget again.
“Stay still,” you say with a pointed look.
A restrained groan. “When are you gonna–”
“Whenever I damn well feel like it,” you scold, “but not at all if you don’t watch yourself.” You make sure to give him another sharp glare before you resume.
Elastic gives under the pull of your fingers and glides down his hips until they tuck under his balls. Cool air envelopes his cock and yanks a hiss out from between Toji’s teeth. Your fingers spread again, over the exposed tip, then back again to paint small circles around the wet slit.
A blunt thump brings your attention to Toji’s face, where the foliage above projects its fragile forms onto it. His head is tilted back against the tree behind him, mussed furry ears flush against the bark and restlessness manipulating the rest of his features. The shameless clarity of his struggle fans the flames of your excitement.
Your fingers change shape again and wrap loosely around Toji’s length. The edge of a harsh sigh catches on the ends of your hair, brushing it up as you move your hand down, and up, then down again. The writhing of his thighs dominoes into his hips, which jump up, seemingly involuntarily.
Just this once, you choose not to indulge in your own selfish enjoyment — as a reward for his almost exclusively obedient behaviour since you began touching him — and mercifully grant Toji the relief of your whole hand, curling it to fit around the shape of his dick. A half-cut-off gasp unfolds in the space between you, but nothing more. You smile nonetheless. “Does that feel good?”
Toji’s head adjusts against the tree, eyelids pinching and tightening. “What kinda question is that? F’course it does.”
You hum. “Just wanted to make sure you’re still responsive.”
Toji opens his eyes, hooded but still catching the moonlight, to flash you a confident look. “You won’t break me that easily.”
Yet his self-assured tone cracks when you suddenly tighten your grip around him and hasten your pace.
“Wait, don’t– not that fast–” He gasps and reaches for your wrist, but you swat it away. You change the pace again, and again. Soft, hard, slow, quick. And all Toji can do is mutter expletives and squeeze his fists around handfuls of dirt.
“I’m… close,” Toji warns breathily.
“Really?” you snort. Granted, you’d teased him for a while before this, but you’re still shocked. He must have been more into this than even you had noticed. “You must be popular in the bedroom, huh?” you quip. “They call you Two-Minute-Toji?”
Thick eyebrows furrow as a half-hearted snarl seeps out from Toji’s lips. “God, do you ever shut–” He moans and grabs at your thighs, the tips of his claws piercing through your clothing. “I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck–”
Your touch vanishes before Toji’s words can come true, allowing you to watch the ecstasy melt off his face in real time. A series of emotions pass through in its place: first confusion, then realisation until, finally, disappointment. Outrage. Desperation.
Maybe you’re just sadistic, but you find it to be a good look on him.
In the spur of the moment, Toji attempts to finish what you so cruelly and prematurely left incomplete, but you capture his wrists and raise up on your knees to pin them above his head.
“Shit!” he exclaims, wide chest still sinking and swelling from his near-high. “What the fuck’s your problem? Why’d you stop?”
Exactly the kind of response you’d expected, of course. An entirely reasonable one at that, but still — you’re unable to fend off the smirk that grows at the sight of it. This is just the start, and he’s already so upset? Shivers take over you at the thought of how unprepared he is for the torture to come.
“You made me work for what I want. It’s only fair I get to do the same to you,” you explain matter-of-factly. “And the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be.”
Toji’s ears flap with vexation; you’re sure he only means to be angry, but to you, he resembles a sulking puppy.
You release his hands and move them to his shoulders. “So here’s how this is gonna go,” you start cheerily. “When you’re close, you tell me. Don’t, and I’ll ruin your beloved orgasm, right then and there!” You pinch his cheek in a faux-flirty way. “Got that, my little mutt?”
Toji frowns with something like judgement. “What sort of sick game is this?”
“Does it really matter so long as you cum at the end?” you counter, but Toji remains unconvinced.
“‘Course it does,” he replies. “What’s the point in making me wait if I can have it now?”
Such simplistic, almost childlike logic; it makes you giggle. “The point is a little thing called delayed gratification,” you say in that typical patronising tone, the one that Toji has become so dreadfully accustomed to.
“Delayed for who?” He eyes you, up and down. “You’re loving every second of this.”
You giggle again. “Oh, come on,” you beckon. “Don’t you want to know how good it feels?” One of your hands drops down his torso and Toji’s eyes follow just in time to see it curl its fingers around the drooling head of his cock. “Being denied over and over, that tension building higher and higher each time…” His jaw quivers when you slowly twist your wrist. “How sensitive you get, how desperate…” You drag and pull. Twist again. “And the rush of not knowing if this time you’ll get to cum…”
Toji grunts as his dick slaps against his stomach.
“Or be denied again!” Your laugh then is inevitable, but still it feels too sweet and innocent of a sound, given the cause of it is a man’s torment.
“Okay, enough. You’ve made your point,” Toji says in a flurry, before you can add anything else. “Stop talking and just…” You hear him swallow and study the way it makes the muscles of his neck ripple. “Show me.”
Those two words are the starting pistol to your well-earned entertainment — and Toji’s well-deserved misery. Your experienced and adaptable hands, paired with your watchful eyes and insatiable desire to inflict suffering, make for a dangerous concoction. And the fact that Toji is oblivious to that knowledge just makes the thrill of it all the more invigorating. Still, you pace yourself; remind yourself that patience may be bitter, but its fruit is sweet and lies waiting for you. Time is the least of your worries and the forest around you topples amidst the routine you’ve choreographed for you both. You work him up, soaking in his helplessness, and pull the floor out from under him when he’s at his most vulnerable, watching how that helplessness snowballs and the cycle repeats; watching him groan, gasp, whimper and curse under his breath. Like a feline playing with its food, you relish every moment of it, all while dreaming of how good it will taste once you finally feast.
“Close, so close, so close,” Toji mumbles. “M’gonna cum–”
Your hand jolts away from his dripping cock and with it, Toji’s hips buck up so hard, so desperately, that your knees lose contact with the ground for a second.
“How many times is that now?” you ask. You already know how many, you just want to make him say it.
Body slack against the tree, Toji’s eyes blink slowly at you. “F–four,” he says with a weak wince. “Fuck. When are you gonna let me cum?”
You make a contemplative noise. “I don’t know,” you say as you boredly doodle patterns on Toji’s shirt. “Maybe after… four or five more times?”
“You’re fucking joking,” Toji chokes out in disbelief, but that sincere gleam in your eyes stays. He runs a palm down his face. You don’t miss the way his tinted face saturates. “That’s– nine times? Are you crazy? That’s not–” His throat feels like it’s all dried up. He steadies his voice. “There’s… no way I’m waiting that long.”
“No?” you echo, your eyebrows raised. “Is it too much to handle for Two-Minute-Toji?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Toji hisses. “It’s nothing to do with me. You’re just insane.”
So defensive, you think, amused, but don’t let it show. Instead, you sit back thoughtfully. “I guess you have a point,” you agree. Meanwhile, your hands gain a mind of their own, caressing his hips, abdomen, inner thighs; brushing up against his dick every so often. “Four times is already quite a lot…” Finally, your gaze falls to your unforgiving fingers, where you’ve been toying at the cusp of Toji’s composure. “Just one more then,” you compromise and glimpse at Toji.
He doesn’t hide the irritated noise he makes at your offer, but he does think twice about his instinctual reply — which ends up being futile, since he chooses to say it anyway.
“You’re delusional if you think I’ll agree to that.”
You tilt your head and blink at him. “So… you want to cum now, is what you’re saying?” you ask, and Toji opens his mouth to answer but you suddenly grab his cock with a tight fist — and not the pleasurable kind. His jaw clamps shut, a slice of whistling air rushing in through his teeth. A paw-like hand whips out next, attempting to get rid of yours, but you slap it away and use your other hand to engulf the head of his cock in just as cruel a hold.
“Would cumming now make the spoiled mutt happy?” you mock.
His attempts to remove your hands persist, but each time you just push him away and squeeze harder. “Ah, shit, that fucking– hurts, you asshole! Let go–”
“Answer the question first,” you say sternly.
Toji’s thighs are thrashing now, and his hands have resorted to clinging onto your arms. His breaths leave him as hard as if he was on the verge of climax; the irony makes you laugh inwardly.
“Fuck, fine,” Toji heaves. “Yes, yes I want to cum now. Let me cum. Please.”
You keep your hands on him for a second longer than probably necessary before finally letting go. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” you say with a grin.
Talking back again crosses Toji’s mind, but he thinks better of it. “Whatever. Just… get on with it already.”
As with the previous four times, getting him to the edge again doesn’t take long. Especially since now you’re armed with the knowledge of where he’s most sensitive, what he likes best and how much to do of each to get the most debauched sounds out of him. You have him panting and rolling his hips in time with your hands in just a few short minutes. One hand on your shoulder, the other carving gashes into a tree root bulging out of the soil; a reminder of Toji Fushiguro’s monstrous nature.
It’s easy to forget you’re taming a beast when he’s so pathetic all of the time.
“Ah, ah, I’m close,” Toji moans. His knuckles go taut-white, then relax, then repeat. In the throes of pleasure, his baritone voice has softened into something lighter. “F–fuck, I’m gonna cum! I wan– I wanna cum!”
The next upward stroke of your hand slides the rest of the way off, yet again depriving Toji of the orgasm he keeps chasing. In its absence, the reddened tip of his cock drools a drop of precum.
Toji shouts, gravelly and breathless, into the open air. “No! No, what– what the fuck?!” There seems to be a wetness in his eyes, but you think it could just be a trick of the light. “You… you said you’d let me cum this time!”
“Did I say that?” you muse — recalling very vividly, in fact, that you conveniently never said those words. Whether or not that was on purpose is anybody’s guess, since you doubt Toji’s foggy brain remembers such semantics. “I don’t think I did.”
Toji scowls at you, but his aggravation runs off of you like water on a duck’s back; you can���t take him too seriously when his face is so flushed, cheeks practically aglow with colour and slowly spreading down his neck. A quick tongue swipes over his lips, which have gone dry from the progressively increasing frequency of open-mouthed noises.
Out of something akin to instinct or impulse, you find yourself leaning in — close. Until you’re brushing noses, lips only inches from each other, sharing the same breath of air. Silver-blue eyes flick down your face and linger a little too long to be accidental.
You pull away, laughing.
“You are way too fun to toy with,” you mutter, more to yourself than to Toji before looking up at him. “Did you think I was gonna kiss you just then?”
“No,” Toji sputters out, appearing offended that you would even think such a thing. “I’d bite your tongue off if you tried.”
His threat only makes you chuckle. “We’ll see how much longer you can keep up that attitude,” you say, scrunching up the front of his t-shirt in your fist, “once I’m through with you.”
Your lips collide so immediately that you almost don’t realise Toji is the one to close the final rift of space between you. Like a volatile chemical reaction, the kiss escalates. Potent, rabid, vulgar. Animalistic. Teeth nip at flesh, blood and saliva blend and smear down chins.
At the same time, your hand occupies itself with the same delectable song and dance you’ve come to know so well. The prelude — an open palm, skimming across the head of Toji’s cock; a dainty back and forth, like a bow across violin strings, and Toji’s noises a melody writing itself on your lips. You steer the flow of his sound like a conductor with a symphony, building the bridge, climbing towards the chorus, the crescendo just in sight… Then with a flourish, it all descends back down again, hushed into a temporary interlude, before ebbing into a reprise. Over and over, you play this orchestrated tune; over and over and over, until each note has been played to its fullest and rang out into silence.
Eventually, you get up.
Left in your wake, beneath you, Toji is a mess of the man he was. Eyes glazed over. Lips pink and damp. Cock blushing, slick, swollen. Hips jumping in search of relief. It took denying him almost ten times, but regardless, he’s all yours now. Pliant and at your mercy, like a common prey animal.
“Roll over, boy,” you say, just like you would to an actual dog, as you make a circling gesture with your finger. “I want you on your hands and knees.” You tap his bare thigh with the side of your shoe. “Go on. Hands and knees. Like a good little dog.”
Shakily, Toji turns around. Soil pools around his knees where they sink. One hand wraps around that same scratched up root from before, the other braces against the base of the tree. His head hangs limp between his shoulders.
You kneel behind him and tug his underwear down his toned thighs. Goosebumps multiply over Toji’s exposed skin, first at the breeze that briefly grazes it, next at the fingers that replace it. Both your hands span out across the expanse of Toji’s ass, a soothing sensation against the goosebumps despite being so foreign to him. Your thumbs wander away from the rest of your fingers and toward the patch of skin between his tail and the base of his spine. Experimentally, the pads of your thumbs grind down into it.
Toji makes a noise that could arguably be classified as a yelp and his tail bushes up, almost hitting you in the face with how skittishly it swings out.
“W–watch it,” Toji whinges. “Don’t be so rough.”
“Oh? Is it sensitive?” you taunt.
Even now, on all fours with his bare ass in front of you, the embers of Toji’s pride prevent him from admitting even the slightest implications of weakness. You, however, are no stranger to such behaviour, and do not let it deter you from your goal.
Your thumbs continue wandering, dipping below his tail. They rotate inward, pulling apart the thick meat of his ass to reveal a soft, puckered hole. You succumb to temptation and prod at it. It tenses, along with the rest of Toji’s muscles.
Toji turns his head over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he breathes, almost sounding worried or angry, definitely trying to sound assertive — but you can tell he’s more nervous than anything. Flustered, even.
You pause. “Do you want me to stop?”
His features contort, as if perplexed. “It’s weird.” He turns back around. “Don’t even know why you would wanna touch back there.”
The reason is simple to you. “Because it feels good.” Thoughtlessly, you knead your thumb against the virgin hole, observing how it clenches, as if inviting you in. “Inside, I mean,” you clarify.
“Ins– inside?” Toji repeats, like the concept is unfathomable to him. “Like, inside of– me?”
“Yeah,” you deadpan, though, admittedly, you are somewhat entertained. Perhaps he truly is so oblivious that it skews his logical thinking, but you suspect that the true cause is the lust that clouds his mind. Whether from his need for release or from a late-onset sexual epiphany, you find it almost endearing how naïve and innocent his response makes him seem. “So… Can I keep going?”
“Uh…” Toji, subconsciously, it seems, arches his back ever so slightly in your direction. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters.
“In that case,” you usher and place a hand between his shoulder blades, “lower your chest for me some more.”
With the sheer density of muscle fibre beneath your fingertips alone, those defined contours mapped out across his broad back, visible even through his clothes, you expect some resistance — but he gives like freshly fallen snow, without so much as a groan of indignation, and yields his form until he’s flush with the ground.
In this position, he opens up on his own. Hole lewdly exposed, as if presenting to you. His tail hangs over it, out of humiliation or to protect his dignity you assume, but with one simple order, you have Toji holding it out of the way for you, making him appear even more pathetic.
Leaning over him, you trickle some saliva onto Toji’s hole. It spasms as the fluid lands on it.
“Did you just spit on–” Toji cuts himself off with an exasperated sigh. “That’s… fucking disgusting.”
“Your tail seems to think otherwise,” you retort, referring to how the appendage subtly wags.
Toji buries his face in the crook of one arm. “That thing’s got a mind of its own.”
Ever so slightly poking out over the top of his bicep, however, is the scarlet tip of one ear.
You chuckle. “Sure.”
With that, you run a fingertip through the slimy fluid, collecting it from where it started dripping down his taint and spreading it out. Tentatively, you nudge your finger inside. The muscle clenches at the breach.
“Relax,” you tell Toji.
He grunts. “What do you think I’m tryna do?”
A rare streak of sympathy has your other hand reaching down to Toji’s cock and planting a few distracting touches. Slowly, the stiffness around your finger eases up, and steadily, you push past each knuckle until it’s seamlessly tucked away inside.
“How much longer…” A soft moan reverberates in the back of Toji’s throat as your finger pulls out of him. “‘T–til I can cum?”
You hum and give a few slothful pumps. “Between two minutes and two hours.” Toji’s subsequent groan of protest makes your smile stretch out like a cat. “Why? You’re not at your limit, are you?”
“You kidding? I could–” You sneak another finger on the next slide in and Toji shudders, gulps. “I could do this all day,” he finishes quietly.
The hand on his dick stops its task momentarily to lather Toji’s precum over your two fingers. You scissor them attentively, observing Toji’s facial reactions; as much as you can, at least, given he’s concealing them. Luckily, though, it seems you won’t need them anyway, with how the rest of his body is uncovering all those secrets for him — the fingers around his tail flexing, hips rocking back against your fingers, dick leaking incessantly despite your minimal touches. To think he’s already so weak to his lustful desires when you haven’t even skirted that particular place inside him; the one you’ve intentionally been avoiding.
“Are you sure you can take any more?” you tease. “It seems to me like–”
“I can take whatever you give me,” Toji interrupts gratingly.
You wonder if he can hear how ruined he sounds, but suppose that even if he does, he likely doesn’t see the humour in it that you do.
“We’ll see about that.”
After adding some more spit, you’re easing in a third finger. Just as you predicted, Toji’s body wriggles more restlessly under you. Breaths staggering as you bump into the hilt of your fingers. You bend them probingly and it lures out a fluttery moan.
Your eyes flit over Toji’s form, lips taking the shape of a salacious smile. “How are you doing over there?”
But before he has the time to even think of a witty reply, he’s tearing new claw marks into the tree bark and whining out, not unlike a dog in heat — which, in some ways, is not far from reality.
“Wow. I didn’t think you were capable of making a sound like that,” you comment. In truth, you’ve always had a knack for turning even the most unsuspecting of victims into your needy little toys; the only difference between them is how long it takes to do so. “Mind making it again?” you purr.
Regardless of what Toji’s answer may have been — though you predict it would have been something snippy or dismissive — your fingers are once again prying out a frail whine from him as he barely manages to maintain his grip on his tail.
You pull your fingers out, almost all the way, and when you push them back in again, you have your pinky finger join, poking at the edge of Toji’s entrance. “Think you can take one more?”
Toji whimpers at your suggestion. “Fuck, yes please,” he begs — something even you had begun doubting you could get him to do, and so is all the more gratifying to hear.
And just like that, you have the deadly mercenary, Toji Fushiguro, better known as Hellhound, the mighty Sorcerer Killer, riding four of your fingers like he was made for nothing else. Whining and whimpering — two things that no one would believe he did if you told them. Dribbling a puddle of his arousal into the dirt below him even in the absence of your hand. Tail jerking uncontrollably, occasionally slipping from his hold and earning himself an admonishing spank, which only serves to break him down further.
A shaking hand clasps onto your wrist, driving its thrusting motions harder and deeper into himself. “God, I’m gonna cum,” Toji sobs. “Please let me cum, please, please.”
His words make you realise that you never actually answered his question from before. Not really, not seriously. In the grand scheme of things, sure, it was always in your plan to let him cum; an irrefutable certainty. And, as large as your appetite is, you’ve had your fill now — are brimming with it, in fact — but Toji doesn’t know that, and that’s what makes you smile. Even now, you long to overflow with the joy of terrorising him. Even now, you fail to turn a deaf ear to the siren call of your deepest, darkest, most lecherous desires. In all your differences, this weakness, this unquenchable yearning of the flesh, is one that you and Toji are both cursed with.
You lean over the muscular man below you, just enough so your hot breath beats over his back. “Only good dogs get to cum,” you murmur as your fingers bully that awfully euphoric cluster of nerves, “and good dogs can beg better than that.”
Sweat permeates off him in waves and you can’t tell if the goosebumps on his skin are from the outdoor air blowing on the moisture or from the embarrassment of the demeaning act that he’s about to commit, all to appease his meagre human wants.
Cheek trapped against the dirt, Toji’s teeth flash on full display as he whimpers out. “Ahh, fuck, m’sorry… I don’t deserve it… but please let me– let me cum.” Wet eyelashes, all clumped together and satiny, flutter as Toji’s eyes fight to stay open. “M’so sorry. I’ll do anything, please.”
Anything. So vague and all-encompassing; only a small-minded fool would make the mistake of promising ‘anything’. And small-minded fools? Well, you’re not one yourself, but you certainly know your way around making one. And Toji Fushiguro, your latest little project, is no exception, it seems; he may not know it, but he’s just fulfilled a bittersweet prophecy.
Indeed — ‘anything’ is a truly wonderful word.
“Yeah?” Your pace slows until the sight of Toji’s hole, puffy, stretched and clinging around your fingers, is trackable in immensely vivid and erotic detail. “Will you be my little lapdog?” you chirrup, light and honey-sweet, as if to a beloved pet. “Obey my every word, fulfil my every wish? Be mine and no one else’s?”
The precipitation on Toji’s nape glistens as he feverishly nods his head and pushes back harder onto your fingers. “Yes, yes, I will, I am. I’m yours. All yours.”
From the cunning and brutish Hellhound, Killer of Sorcerers, the half-wolf half-man who is both feared and revered for his domineering power and cutthroat personality, you have sculpted a disciplined and docile little plaything. An irredeemable mongrel, whose generous master’s firm, wise hand has trained him into a lovely pet, worthy of being called a…
“Good boy.”
Toji’s tail convulses between his fingers.
You grin. “Go ahead,” you say with a final encouraging slap to Toji’s ass. “Let it all out for me, pup.”
And he does — so abruptly and intensely that his trembling thighs almost give under him, practically held up by your hand on his tail alone. He cries out so loud that drool flies from his lip and his voice is followed by a slight echo on the wind. Soreness is already making itself known in your wrist, but you don’t stop; you milk him for all he’s worth, coaxing out every last drop until Toji is laying in a heap of soil and his own spend, groaning and pushing your hand away.
From your coat, you fish out a handkerchief and wipe your hands. Then you move Toji onto his back to do the same for him. A ritualistic process that brings a kind of peace to your otherwise tireless, whirring thoughts.
“Sit up for me,” you tell Toji, with a pat to his thigh.
With some help, he does. You smile and rummage through your pockets, searching for… Ah, there it is!
You take out the circular object and shift towards Toji. With practised efficiency, you secure it around his neck and lean back to appreciate the sight: sturdy ebony leather with intricately engraved symbols, topped off with silver fastenings. Such a pretty collar looks perfectly at home on him.
“What– what is this?” Toji slurs.
You stand up and stroll a few feet away from Toji, who’s bound to where he is in his weak post-orgasm state. Unhurriedly, you slide out a cigarette and prop it between your lips. In the corner of your eye, you make sure Toji is looking at you before you hover a finger beneath your cigarette. From it, a flame manifests and lights the butt.
Witnessing horror formulate on a face like Toji’s — on the face of a man like Toji — is nothing less than beautiful. You would pay good money to experience it for the first time again; to pinpoint the moment he comes to realise the terrible situation he’s found himself in, so you can cherish it from start to finish, all over again.
“You’re…” Toji’s shocked tone bleeds into one of ire; his wide eyes shrink into slits. “A Jujutsu Sorcerer.”
Wreathed smoke billows out of your mouth as you chuckle. “That’s right.” You cross your arms, menacing eyes flitting over Toji. “And now, you’re my cute little pet.”
“Pet?” Toji scoffs. “I kill your kind for a living. You think I’m just gonna take this shit from you?” Toji’s hands scramble up the tree behind him as he goes to get up. “You’re fucking dead, Sorcerer. Ya hear me? D–”
He yells out as he falls back down, fur standing on end from the scorching pain that pulses out of the collar around his neck. He wheezes and claws at the leather, curved black nails piercing into glowing red runes — but the pain only amplifies. He tries and tries, but the only damage he succeeds to inflict is a few nicks on his own skin.
“I’d be careful if I were you. Brute force just makes the hex stronger,” you warn with a misleadingly charming smirk. “You’re more likely to cut your own throat open before you manage to put a single split in that collar.”
You would know — it’s not the first time you’ve used it — but Toji, stubborn as ever, continues to wrestle against the collar’s spell until he’s purple in the face. Veins bulging and eyes watery. Clambering to his feet only to tumble back down again, like a baby deer learning to walk.
Eventually, though, he does stop — but he wouldn’t be Toji Fushiguro without maintaining that defiant expression, even while in such a pitiful state.
“I do feel sorry for you, you know,” you admit as you approach Toji, who, going by his expression, doesn’t believe you one bit, “but you must understand, I’m the type of person who always gets what they want.”
“And what’s that, huh?” Toji snipes. “F’me to be your fuckin’ sex slave? Someone to play out all your sick fantasies and take your frustrations out on? ‘That it?”
“Silly dog,” you playfully reprimand and roughly tousle Toji’s already dishevelled hair. He snatches his head away from your touch. “The means don’t always signify the end,” you continue as you saunter past Toji. “Just because I used sexual methods doesn’t mean I have sexual intentions.”
Toji glares at you, half puzzled and half — just straight up pissed. “So what then? What do you want from me?”
Your lips curve around the cigarette before you exhale with a cloudy chuckle. “Oh, you really are adorable sometimes, you know that?”
“Stop fuckin’ around and tell me already,” Toji snarls, teeth bared.
Blatantly dismissing his words, you gradually walk back to Toji and tilt forward over him. “Feisty, aren’t you?” you sneer at him — a callback to the same words he said to you at the start of your encounter. And one that Toji recognises, going by his strained composure. “It’s simple really,” you say conversationally as you straighten back up. “I heard the name ‘Hellhound’, saw the word ‘anything’ next to ‘for the right price’ and I was intrigued. I wanted to have you for myself. To tame the wild beast, defeat the undefeated ‘Sorcerer Killer’. That’s all.” You shrug. “I’m just fortunate I could afford such a conquest.” You smirk down at him. “You sure know how to drive a hard bargain, don’t you, puppy?”
Toji swallows, the action undulating through his throat. His tongue flicks out over his lips. His eyebrows knit densely. “You hired me?”
You blink at him. “Was that not obvious?” you say with a bashful laugh. “Ah, I really did try not to seem too prepared but I’m just a humble Sorcerer! Not an actor.”
As if still processing what’s happening, Toji just stares at you. You half-expect him to blow up any second, but that doesn’t discourage you from provoking him a little more. “I know what you’re thinking,” you say, and on its own, it’s true, but it’s more fun to pretend that it’s not. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get the second half of the deposit, even though– you know, I’m still alive.”
You laugh again and Toji’s eye twitches at the repetitive sound. He doesn’t see what you find so fucking funny that you need to laugh every five seconds but he wishes you’d just shut up already.
“You’re outta your fucking mind,” he whispers bitterly, like a too-late realisation.
“I am, aren’t I?” you quip back with a beaming closed-eye grin. “But don’t act like you’re any better.” Another callback, and just in case it doesn’t ring any bells, you press your shoe down on Toji’s crotch, where the head of his still-pink cock pokes out of his underwear, on display through his unzipped trousers. Like a panther pouring out of the shadows, your teeth reveal themselves from behind your lips in a hungry, bordering on starved, smile. “I’m not the one who’s got a second hard-on right now.”
Your acknowledgement persuades a drop of precum to shyly gather at the tip, triggering an even more shy press of thighs around your shoe. When that fails to sufficiently conceal his shame, Toji grits his teeth and whips his head away from you — but you won’t allow that.
After a final puff of smoke, you grasp Toji’s face and force it back into place: laid bare before you, tear tracks on his dirtied cheeks, dried blood under his nose, eyelashes still shiny with the evidence of his desperation. “Be a good pet,” you say as you hover your burning cigarette above his lips, “and open your mouth for your master.”
His teeth gnash together stubbornly, but, ultimately, he follows your command. Jaw falling open, tongue drooping over his lip, eyes gazing up at you, expectant and waiting. Eagerly waiting.
You make him wait no longer; you bring down the lit end of your cigarette onto Toji’s inviting tongue and twist it. The embers hiss and sizzle, branding a small scarlet circle into the pink muscle. As you pull out the cigarette, satisfied, you tell him:
“That’s my good boy.”
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taglist. @jazzyluuv @mysicklove @starrierknight @kentophilia @vampcubus @d7dream @feruza22 <3
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namjhyun · 3 days
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DRAMA REVIEW | Lovely Runner (2024)
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Lovely Runner it's undoubtedly one of the best dramas of 2024.
It has all the elements that make a drama a mega hit: comedy, romance, time travel, well written characters (both leads and supporting ones) and an engaging plot line that never bores you. Starring Kim Hye Yoon and Byeon Woo Seok, adapted from the web novel The Best of Tomorrow by screenwriter Lee Shi Eun and directed by Yoon Jong Ho and Kim Tae Yub, the Lovely Runner team achieved a perfect execution in front and behind the camera.
I think the true star of this drama it's the writing and on this I can't commend Lee Si Eun enough. I had already seen her potential in dramas like True Beauty but here she really manages to shine through a well crafted, smart and cohesive story with no loose ends. I'm incredibly impressed by her talent.
The writing was perfectly complemented by the directors's outstanding work in leading a film crew that was on every detail of each part of the story, in each timeline, never missing a beat. Always delivering their A+++ game. But there was also great work done from the directors part in helping the actors get the comedic timing exactly right, the more emotional scenes to deliver and the team work among cast and crew to be flawless.
Lovely Runner might be a big hit now, but it's actually a sleeper hit. The lack of promotion this drama had was embarrassing and if it wasn't for the devoted fans, studio executives would have never realized they had a gem in their hands. So, it's not only a great drama with a super fandom that really fought for this story, it's also becoming yet another prime example in the list of films and tv that achieved all of it by themselves because artists delivered nothing short of excellence.
On this point I can't ignore the incredible performances given by the entire cast. Kim Hye Yoon and Byeon Woo Seok are definitely the standouts, they stole the show, this is their story and the actors chemistry it's electrifying. But the way supportive actors would show up in a scene and push the story forward in a coherent way and even make it better, it's wild to me. The chemistry this cast had it's a rare feat for an ensamble cast and how they managed to transition seamlessly through different phases of their characters's lives and relationships when events, in each timeline, were changing because of the things our leads did they still remain truthful. So, not only the leads are well developed in this drama but also every single character that shows up, no matter how small the role is.
The best example of this it's actor Heo Hyeong-Gyu who has been working for sixteen years, playing very minor characters, finally having a breakthrough in the industry because of his role in this drama. And while his presence was prominent and important to the story, he barely had lines. So his entire performance is mainly based on micro-expressions or physical stunts.
I also fully expect the actors like Song Geon-Hee, Lee Seung-Hyub, Song Ji-Ho or Seo Hye-won to receive a lot of what korean entertainment industry calls "love calls" aka commercials, dramas and films, among other things.
Experiencing watching Lovely Runner alongside the fandom, waiting every week for a new episode, it's a big part of what made this drama so good. Healthy and good loving fun people, clowning, poking fun at our faves and crying at heartbreak. It's been a long time since I have been able to engage in this way with other fans and I am thankful for them, the cast and crew for all these amazing weeks of fun.
Rating: 10/10
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ewingstan · 3 days
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The Love Lost interlude was interesting. The flashback to interrogating Jen seemed to be establishing that Nicole was, even before everything, operating on certain specific beliefs and resulting frustrations. She saw the world as filled with people who aren't people but monsters, and was frustrated at how little she could do about it. She couldn't "stop all the bad guys," resented the misconduct statutes that slowed down her ability to send "monsters" to jail, and was at least somewhat aware that punishing them after they already hurt people accomplished little.
All of which helps explain her obsession with Rain: she sees him as an especially heinous monster who's escaped punishment too long. Not dealing with him and the other monsters would be compounding her failures, and the fact that killing him wouldn't accomplish anything doesn't matter that much, since she didn't really see it as accomplishing anything back when she was a cop.
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The oddity is how she sees herself as working with another monster to "save the world." Firstly because Rain doesn't seem world-threatening, though maybe she's talking about the Mathers more generally. The whole of their plan still isn't clear to me, I'm not sure why they needed to attack the Navigators. But the bigger thing is that she sees Cradle as a monster, and it seems like the text agrees with her even in a way it didn't for Jen.
And its somewhat weird for the text to agree with that "some people are monsters" framing when this whole chapter is pretty clear that its wrong. Its earlier use in the flashback seems to be purposefully positioning it as wrong and dangerous:
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Nicole describing people as inherently monstrous is first given in the context of a cop deciding someone must be guilty, and falsifying evidence on that basis. Its introduced as being part-and-parcel with police misconduct. And later parts pose it as something borderline fascistic:
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She sees certain criminals as "not having reasons," as if they're savages who do violence because of some automatic, atavistic urge. Instead of, you know. Doing crimes to get money/revenge/safety/etc. People usually have reasons for doing things. But the fact that she thinks some people don't, and that she uses such a politically charged word as "degenerate" to describe such monsters, all signpost that Nicole is following an overly simplistic ideology with horrific ends. Even if she sees herself and Nailbiter as "very similar people at different points in their journeys," she sees the latter as someone who needs to die.
Then there's the whole Colt thing, that Colt was distressing to Nicole because she straddled the line between "innocent child" and "monster" and her becoming a parahuman pushed her in one direction rather than Colt's own autonomous choices. Colt has from the start been an example of people doing stupid harmful things for understandable reasons, and Nicole recognizes that as a burr in her worldview.
But then the reveal that Cradle has been manipulating the cluster and literally turning them evil for his own ends. Which admittedly I still don't understand at all. Though part of that is that I don't understand Nicoles side either; she wanted to kill all the "rule-breaker capes" but also said that stopping kids from getting into capedom was a worthy goal, and whatever she thought they were doing with March I completely missed. But the last paragraphs of Cradle revelation suddenly reinforces what the rest of the chapter so persistently (and often skillfully) tried to argue against vis-a-vis some people just being monsters. I'd typically say that this means that we have to be due for a humanizing look at Cradle, but nothing I've seen from Wardblr indicates I'll get it. We'll see.
Part of the problem might just be the form of the story: a genuine ideological belief that no human is a true monster gets in the way of having a truly villainous villain. But I'm not sure why this story needed one.
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your-ne1ghbor · 3 days
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Magnifico's "Wish Stealing form" design/some Character Dump (Disney Wish)
Oh boy ya'll in a BIG BIG Story beat plus some more information on Amaya and Magnifico in my rewrite:
The Kingdom of Roses and Thorns
Oh yeah...this is another long post and Ik @oh-shtars @chillwildwave @signed-sapphire @annymation @uva124 @rascalentertainments is gonna love this idea
For starters...
I Had this nightmare of Magnifico because of this form and now you all will see it too :3
There were also other posts that inspired this design too, so I'll link them here:
Anyways, this post is mainly an MAJIOR STORY IDEA DUMP for my sweet sweet emo Maggy- erm Magnifico (he is glaring at me guys send help please)
Soooo....
I had this terrifying idea for TKoRaT Maggy, even before I had this nightmare of him, where he legit becomes somewhat something like this, but with more vine core when he is taking the wishes/"monster in my closet" wrong vibes.
More like this for the idea I'm going for:
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This is one of the ideas I had for Maggy when he is taking the wishes. This is might not be final in my final version of Maggy, hell, I might change that particular design to be Amaya's form when she takes the wishes too, since hers is more smoke which is more or not on par with her character in my rewrite/redesign. It might end up being more of Maggy's thing with Amaya helping him get into this state of transformation to take the wishes since I'd imagine it more of a whole process, but it could also just be something they both do together.
Some more design details I added was his scars from when his kingdom was attacked and almost everyone died because he showed mercy to the attackers. He doesn't really have them in his main design, probably because he covers them up with Amaya's potions or the wishes could have some form healing abilities? Idk I'm still firguring out the magic system of my story or that I just keep forgetting to put those scars in his design so awesome???💀
In my post here, I said that they don't hold ceremonies that has them granting/taking the wishes like they did in the movie. This is mainly because I wanted to do a little something original and gives me the oppertunity to take in the horror aspects of the story (because I love scaring children(not in a bad way, but to show them that there are these kinds of people in the world yk?)). This is why I am intentionally making Maggy and Amaya horrifying in their own way because well...good people can become the bad guys if pushed in the right direction. Especially in what they do to other people. Mainly inspired from Hunchback and Prince of Egypt, with subtle, but TERRIFYING pieces.
BUT, They do have a ceremony, but it is not related to the wishes, it is just there to give them some sympathetic traits to Maggy and Amaya (after all they've been through, I just feel bad, they literally wanted to good things and the world just beat them with a 90 foot pole).
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This one I tried making Maggy more jagged. Although it seems like he is a different character here, thats mainly my fault since I really tried to figure out what he would say to Star Boy in this "idea" scene but my brain blanked out and couldn't think of anything so wahoo
Star Boy in this scene doesn't even know he has a desire, he just didn't think stars can form desires (ofc Maggy and Amaya is going to manipulate the hell out of him and Asha :3)
ALSO
This is also the main reason I split Star Boy's powers between what Amaya and Maggy does.
Maggy has only 1 shape-shifting form, and it is only done to steal the wishes. He can't shape shift into anything else, but it is why when he steals star's powers, he becomes more of a terrifying shapeshifter.
Amaya creates dangerous potions, and more or not lurks in the darkness in some way like a cat to bring them to their doom. Although it would make more sense if Maggy has the creation part of Star's powers, I gave it to Amaya since it works for her too, and keeps the power system balanced in some way. If I do give Amaya the ability to also shapeshift into a monster from my dreams, I could also say the same thing can work in reverse too, I just personally think the creation part of her character conflicts with Asha's ability to create/draw magic.
Power wise for this design...
This form also gives Maggy the ability to see people's desires that HE could take. He can't really take them until they are 17-18 years old and older (ruh oh, 2 of our main protagonists fall under that age gap). Plus, he cant take them from children since they are young and dont understand these kinds of things.
This form also falls under the MAIN conflict of why the hell is everyone miserable when they turn around 17/18 years old? Oh yeahhh this is going to fall under how he steals the wishes, but I'm not going to say anything here yet because I really want it to be a surprise.
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Nothing that he does is not without reason. He blames the stars for not granting his wish (there is a reason why they didn't), and for not stepping in when a star, or Aster (NOT STAR BOY) went "rouge" (not Aster's fault btw, they didn't have a choice). So, this presented him with this ideology (that I personally believe Amaya first started thinking this way, out of pain and wanting to blame someone for what happened a century ago) that in order for people to not wish on stars, is for them to never wish/dream again. The story in my version is the aftermath of this. Still figuring out THE MAJIOR STORY BEATS, but this falls under Star Boy as well.
Star Boy represents the thing Magnifico hates the most. Plus, Maggy has more of a personal beef with the stars so of course he is going to make sure Star Boy dies, becauseeee he didn't do it last time, so second times the charm, am I right? (OR MAYBE THE THIRD WHO KNOWS, LETTING THE STORY WORK ITSELF OUT ;3)
ORIGINALLY, this was going to be Amaya's thing, but as I said, this might end up being mainly Maggy's thing, or it is something they both do, since they share the same goal, but here is the designs I was going to show for that:
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Anywaysssss, ya'll can ask me questions regarding to this design if ya'll want to! I'll gladly answer them! I also will accept suggestions for the design/abilities for this "wish stealing..." thing. I might come up with a better name for this form later. Soo have a happy weekend as your neighbor watches some marvel movies as I work on my projects for my classes.
explodes
Edit: Okay my imagination took my to the most tragic part of his character then randomly imagined star boy getting stabbed by this guy and said "now you feel the pain I felt when everyone died" and star boy, in the worst condition says "almost everyone" then gets a another stab from him💀
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iturbide · 10 months
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Do you think the Ylissean royal sibs worship Naga or is just like, eh that's the country religion. (This would be prior to meeting Naga and hearing her be like eh im not a god u know. ... How do you think Naga feels about being worshipped if that's something she'll just say. Does she not care?) Does Ferox have a religion???
Personally, yes I do! I do think that the Ylissean royal siblings worship Naga, and that the Exalt is also technically the head of both state and the faith (so they are heavily involved in Ylissean religious observances and festivals, like the Festival of Naga's Light at the summer solstice). With how close he's likely been to it all his life, and given that Chrom initially believes that Naga is a god (prior to her correcting him), it doesn't seem unreasonable that he personally keeps the faith, rather than it just being part of the culture he was raised in.
(As for Naga, I suspect that she's come to accept it as the way of mankind. They grasp for something to believe in, and often choose dragons for their overwhelming power. She can't stop them, so she just lets them do it and tries not to get involved unless she absolutely has to.)
As for Ferox...I don't think they have a religion that worships divines the way that Ylisse and Plegia do. I personally think that they believe in gods along the lines of primal natural forces -- of wind, of the sea, of the mountains, of the storm -- but their true reverence is toward those who came before them, leading to a faith that's centered more on ancestor worship than on divine powers. Feroxis prize power, but I like to think that they recognize that such power was fostered by those who came before them: they stand on the shoulders of giants, and honor their forbears as such.
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fickleartdump · 4 months
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fictional character of all time
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fromtheseventhhell · 8 months
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can I join in on the Jamie slander? because the way fandom lives up jamie’s ass has always annoyed me so much. people literally have more empathy for him than they have for dany and Arya it’s ridiculous and transparently misogynistic. the way fandom always sees Jamie as the victim of evil cersei who just needs the love of a good woman (usually Brienne but I’ve even seen him shipped with sansa) like last time I checked cersei didn’t force him to push a CHILD out of a window he did that of his own free will. jamie is a horrible person and if grrm lets him live to the end of the series I will be genuinely pissed. the number of people who think Jamie is on a “redemption arc” is ridiculous. also they think he has a redemption arc but also believe he’s the valonqar so how does that work? Jamie is going to redeem himself, kill cersei through into partner violence, and then marry Brienne and live happily ever after??? 🤮🤢🤮
Jamie slander is always welcome over here 🙏🏾
I think this summarizes my issues with Jaime's character; it's not so much how he's written, I do think his character is interesting, but the way he's treated by fandom is insufferable. Male characters are always given more sympathy and grace than female characters and it's frustrating to see the difference in how he (and other male characters) is treated vs. Dany, Arya, Cat, Cersei, Brienne, Asha, Sansa, etc. Every bad thing he's ever done is twisted to become a result of Cersei "manipulating" him and she gets demonized, when she really deserves the sympathy that he gets. His "redemption arc" is a joke and I'm convinced the only reason people think he has one is because they've personally forgiven his actions 🥴
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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...
#the more i learn about the history of life. the more alien it seems to me#thats how i want to start my letter of intent#but i dont remember how im supposed to write one. ur supposed to talk about all ur qualifications. i think. y ur the right person for the#position. but i dont want to do that. i just want to chase down the words to make the ideas in my head make sense#bc its true. life to me has become increasingly alien. and i mean that in only the best of ways.#astrobiology has always been my focus but im not quite sure its an accurate descriptor anymore#i mean. it is the way i understand it. for understanding life we have a sample size of 1. we have to start here#until we find something else. so i want to study and understand the life on this planet. how it came to be. how its changed. whats pushing#those changes. but thats not what people think when they hear astrobiology. nobody else seems to get it#like the way i see plants has completely changed. a plant is a very strange thing. it is a body with many cells reaching up to capture#light from a far off star. making sugar from starlight. and plants have a history having been something soft bodied. green goo#but they developed structure. they consumed another small gooey body and crept across the barren surface of the early earth#a biome is dicated by the plant life in a given location. plants have helped to sculpture the ecology of the world#making a landscape of green hands reaching higher and high toward the light#its weird. alien. and i never thought about that before. there r so many things i want to know. im streched in a million directions. i want#to read papers but i cant hold the words long enough to make them make sense. i want to listen to people talk about life but i know they#generalize. they miss the finer details. i want narratives and poetry. i want stories that make me think about the world differently. but i#want to listen to the same things over and over and over until ive felt out every detail and every contour of why its wonderful. until i#understand. but i can only occupy one place at a time. so ive been laying here for 3 hours. thinking about all the things i want to do and#not doing any of them. but its not all terrible bc at least i have things i want to do. and the way i feel abt these things is so different#from how i feel abt what im paid to do. my interests have diverged too much. im not having fun there anymore. i havent been for a while.#all my good will burned away and now theres nothing but the guilt of no longer being invested. but i only have to be here until the end of#spring. so not much longer. and then ill b somwhere else. doing something more interesting. hopefully#that's all. i just put too much pressure on things and then i cant do anything bc im crushing myself#hm i should stop that#unrelated#lol welcome to my blog where i draw ninjas while being unironically haunted by the mysteries of life in the universe
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celibibratty · 8 months
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bullying is such a fuck up type of phsychological abuse(i hate that people don't take it seriously to call it an abuse but it is a type of abuse), you don't know what to do, is helpless, when we were kids, everybody used to say(mostly our mother) "just ignore them, they will eventually stop, they will lose interest if you show no reaction", but don't do anything/show no reaction also makes things worse(i hated it, it never helped), it only proves how much of a victim you are, it shows that it won't have any consequences, they can do anything with you whenever they want CUZ YOU ALWAYS WILL DO NOTHING, but if you do react things can go two ways round (or you intimidate them in a way that they will stop trying messing with you(very difficult) or will make worse cuz they will find entertaining), is a no escape situation, you feel stuck, theres nothing to do, every little move or word makes things worse(the advice that i hated the most and mom always used to suggest was "just play along with it, smile, find it funny too", i never bought it that bullshit, they werent my fucking Friends, i not gonna let myself/ourselves being a joke,what they do it/say it hurted me, i can't just pretend it doesnt upsets me)
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hqkalon · 9 months
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jjk men with an overstimulation kink
toji always knew he had a overstim kink, he just pushed the thought to the back of his mind— always reminded of he previous women he’s slept with who couldn’t handle him in bed. either they physical slapped him back into reality, or ghosted him the day after but that never stopped him from getting play.
“what’d ya just say angel?” he asked with such an amused expression as he kept pounding into your sensitive cunt. “once more!” you cried, begging for another orgasm. such a plea sounding like music to toji’s ears. “anything you want princess.”
gojo is oblivious to the matter, as long as he has you crying on his dick it doesn’t matter… he’s a man who would accidentally overstim himself and you together.
“mmm shit.” gojo groaned, feeling the way your cunt perfectly swallows him whole. his hips going numb, only being able to feel the pleasure flowing through his dick. “gojo!” you whined as the head of his length continuously brushed against your g-spot. “yeah baby?..” lust glossed over his eyes as his tone softened, “let’s cum together again.”
sukuna’s a fan favorite of overstimming. he will not stop until your dumb off his dick and an incoherent mess. it almost fulfills him like some type of ego booster, he definitely bends the rules when playing by his book.
“cryin’ after you begged to be fucked?” he hissed, bullying his thick cock into your poor pussy— feeling you clench over his words. “it’s too much!” you whined through wet lashes as your next orgasm approached. “pathetic.”
geto is unaware, until he’s aware of such a kink. he always had some kind of knowledge about kinks and would even fantasize them, but physically was a different story. though he’s a natural at almost everything he does (by calculation).
“g-geto i’m about t’cum!” soft moans fell from your plush lips as geto fucked into you. angling his hips in a specific direction as he felt your walls clamp down against him, “ahh fuckk.” he groaned, still thrusting inside you while humming in response. “just one more time angel.”
nanami knows exactly what he’s into, but he’s intimidated by acting on it because once he does there’s no going back. he’s a man of his word, if he says again then that means again. nanami won’t stop until he himself if fucked out alongside you.
your wrist bonded together with his tie as the pads of his calloused fingers rubbed small circles against your swollen clit. “nanami!” soft moans fell from your lips as your tummy twisted in knots. “i know baby.” he cooed, watching your hole pulse in pleasure. “you’re gonna do it five more times.”
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lilgynt · 9 months
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ticket so bad i opened indeed
#personal#it was another department reaching back out to me to reach out to this merchant#except it was for devices i don’t work with and hour and half later of hunting for info#turns out it was already taken care of but the department i tried directing the original agent working with me to but she was like no you d#for sure can do this ask ur boss for guidance#who was like i would ask you lmao#anyway long story short it was taken care of who i said should do it if not that agent’s department and it was a fuckin hassle#and then different department called with an error on their software but wanted to see if it was anything. on mine#work on it for an hour confirm everything is fine on our side only errors are coming from their software#which i can’t even ACCESS#try to give it back and theyre like we’ll investigate then message me back some questions#and are like okay we’re gonna send them back to ur department#had to stop them and be like why. everything is in idle and ready to go the error is coming from you guys#okay i’ll send it to different department then#like okay whatever fuck it#and worse when it’s like#customer service calling in. about customer service shit#like stuff i would call THEM asking for help if i got it. it’s their department!!#they’re just so incompetent they trained my department to do their stuff too but then was like. hm. that’s dumb#so it is their stuff but they constantly try to push their stuff on my department#and the amount of times per day i have to be like uh huh. right so you have to esclate in ur department bc this is ur department#or they’re having an error on X? yeah? any errors on Y? no? okay yeah get them to the X team#like i’m subbing out the terms but it’s literally in the name when ur asking where the error came from#and they’ll get mad at you or ask to take the call JUST TO TRANSFER TO THE RIGHT DEPARTMENT#OR!! WONT KNOW WHERE THE ERROR CAME FROM AND JUST CALL#YOU ASAP!!! HOW DO YOU KNOW ITS MY DEPARTMENTS PROBLEM IF UR NOT EVEN AWARE OF THE CUSTOMERS NAME#i’m not even joking i’ve had agents throw FITS when i ask for ANY info or a ticket like they HAVE to make for any call#like what are they working with who’s on the line where did the error come from basic fucking questions that should be answered before even#reaching out to me but that’s too much#anyway can you tell i’m not doing weed in the office this week
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webfactor · 22 days
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Wikipedia editors push offensive language to delegitimize some Native American Tribes
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Article Text As Follows:
Wikipedia editors push offensive language to delegitimize some Native American Tribes
By Sherry Robinson
Special to The Independent
ALBUQUERQUE — When Lily Gladstone won a Golden Globe and Oscar nomination for her role in “Killers of the Flower Moon,” the public recognized a Native American actress. But to Wikipedia readers, she is an American actress whose father was Blackfeet and Nez Perce and whose mother was white.
Three long-time editors at the online encyclopedia argued that even though Gladstone grew up on the Blackfeet reservation, she couldn’t be called Native American unless she was an enrolled member of the tribe. When Gladstone’s uncle weighed in to say she was enrolled, they dismissed his comments. She is still, in Wikipedia’s view, “an American actress.”
In recent years, outside of a national debate in Indian Country over fake tribes, a handful of Wikipedia editors have been deciding who is Native American and who isn’t.
Look behind the curtain of the sprawling site and you will find a network of 265,000 volunteer editors writing and editing within a Wiki universe that has its own rules, language, police and courts but no traditional hierarchy.
Wikipedia’s structure allows likeminded editors to work together, but it also permits editors with a bias to advance their agenda. The site has drawn criticism from media and academics for slanted articles on Blacks and Jews. Wikipedia documents its own systemic bias in an article by that name and attributes the problem to too few minority editors. The typical editor, it says, is a white male.
By Wikipedia's definition, the only real tribes are federally recognized; editors of Native American material denigrate state-recognized and unrecognized tribes and seem preoccupied with revealing fake Indians.
The fakes are out there, and they’re a problem. But there’s a big difference between people who invented a Native ancestry and people who have a long, documented heritage.
For this story, aggrieved tribal members didn’t identify themselves because they fear the site’s size and power – it reaches 1.8 billion devices a month – and some editors’ vindictiveness.
Behind the curtain
Wikipedia is transparent about its process. Click on “talk” at the top of each article and you find the (sometimes endless) debates among editors about an article and see the site’s rules in action.
Editors are anonymous because the Wikipedia Foundation has a strong commitment to privacy, says a spokesperson. However, readers don’t know what expertise editors have or whether they’re Native American.
Editors select their subject matter. With experience they can rise in the pecking order until they gain authority to reverse or eliminate the edits of others. They quote the site’s often arcane rules in Wiki-Speak to anyone who disagrees. While Wikipedia espouses objectivity, neutrality and civility, discussions can take the low road.
On Lily Gladstone’s talk page, a newish editor, user name Tsideh (Apache for bird), asked, “What are your sources supporting the idea that Native Americans are only those who are enrolled in a US recognized tribe?”
A Wiki editor, user name ARoseWolf, answered: “A notable subject can make a claim… but you must have that respective tribal nation’s acceptance as verification through enrollment."
Gladstone’s uncle wrote: “I’m a primary source for Ms. Gladstone’s tribal heritage. Her father is my brother. Through our father, we are both enrolled in the Blackfeet Tribe in the USA,” he wrote. “Our mother is enrolled Nez Perce. So Ms. Gladstone is a direct descendant of both Blackfeet and Nez Perce.”
ARoseWolf shot him down. “We can not use primary sources to verify such information and, you, as a claimed family member have a WP:COI which means we need an independent source.”
WP:COI is the Wikipedia rule on confl ict of interest. Wikipedia forbids primary sources, and yet they’re the gold standard for journalists and academics.
Tsideh challenged the position that only enrollment in a recognized tribe “entitles somebody to claim to be a Native American” as an unfounded, minority point of view that Wiki editors didn’t support with a citation or explanation.
ARoseWolf and others chastised Tsideh for violating Wiki rules on bullying, false accusations and arguing Wiki policy. Tsideh countered that Leonardo DiCaprio didn’t have to prove he was an Italian American, but Lily Gladstone had to prove she was a Native American.
As the back and forth continued, ARoseWolf slammed a new editor who "just happened to find this discussion,” a dig that implies one party enlisted another to join the debate. That too is a Wiki violation.
Bohemian Baltimore, another regular, insisted, “If she’s not enrolled, she may be a descendant, but she’s not a Native American.”
Who is Native American?
Terry Campbell, a Navajo born in Tuba City, Arizona, who lives out of state, has been studying Wikipedia for five months, after friends complained about poor treatment in trying to edit Wiki pages.
One friend wanted to add some facts to an article about a tribe. “These changes were rejected by a handful of editors who cited other Wikipedia pages as sources,” he said, “and I thought that was very, very odd.”
A friend citing sources that prove her tribe survived the Indian wars and received state recognition ran up against Wikipedia guidelines on determining Native American identities that were largely crafted by two editors, user names CorbieVreccan and Yuchitown. Wiki editors used the guidelines to reclassify dozens of state-recognized tribes as “heritage organizations” and removed “Native American” from biographies of prominent tribal members or, worse, called them a "self-identified Native American.”
The implication, Campbell explained, is that the tribe no longer exists and that its members are suspect or even “Pretendians.” Wikipedia has a page for that too.
The same group has shaped many articles on Native subjects. Campbell said he combed through references and found they were misrepresented, taken out of context, sourced from far-right academics, or unreliable.
“The scope of this issue is huge,” Campbell said. “It permeates all the Native articles I checked.”
Campbell recognized talking points from what he called a far-right movement in Indian Country intent on erasing state-recognized and unrecognized tribes. (New Mexico has no state-recognized tribes and six unrecognized groups or tribes.)
Some Native Americans and Anglos, he said, believe that Indigenous people outside the circle of federal recognition should be considered non-Native. They also want to prevent members of the disenfranchised groups from selling their art, receiving ancestral remains, accessing disaster relief or re-establishing their homeland.
Outside Indian Country, it’s not generally known that U.S. Indigenous groups live within a caste system based on government recognition, with 574 federally recognized tribes on top, dozens of state-recognized tribes second, and several hundred unrecognized tribes last.
In 2021, Yuchitown wrote, “The overwhelming majority of ‘List of unrecognized tribes in the United States’ are completely illegitimate.”
There are many reasons why groups aren’t recognized. Some avoided the reservation. Some lost their recognition during the termination era. Some were broken up and scattered during the Indian Wars. Some went underground, practicing their culture secretly while passing as Hispanic. Many simply stayed put.
When Wikipedia editors claim that “Native American” is a political status conferred by the U.S. government, that an individual can only be called a “descendent” until their tribe is recognized, they push this narrative, Campbell said. It’s a contradiction of federal Indian law and the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
According to the U.S. Department of Justice, “As a general principle, an Indian is a person who is of some degree Indian blood and is recognized as an Indian by a Tribe and/or the United States. No single federal or tribal criterion establishes a person’s identity as an Indian. Government agencies use differing criteria to determine eligibility for programs and services. Tribes also have varying eligibility criteria for membership.”
Extreme points of view
Campbell has contributed to a lengthy report, as yet unpublished, that identifies biased editors. They include Yuchitown, CorbieVreccan, ARoseWolf, Indigenous girl and Bohemian Baltimore.
“It was like a tree with many interconnecting branches that had been created over time by the same small group of people pushing extreme points of view,” Campbell said.
Initially the group made changes slowly, he said, “but they started pursuing their agenda aggressively after November, when state-recognized tribes retained their voting rights in the National Congress of American Indians (NCAI). Essentially, after the movement to delegitimize state-recognized tribes failed officially, the key players doubled down on altering and controlling the flow of information about Native Americans through Wikipedia.”
Campbell observed widespread violations of Wikipedia standards: “I found evidence that they blatantly misquoted and misrepresented sources to push extremist political beliefs; teamed up to manipulate the consensus system by voting in blocks; exploited Wikipedia rules, such as conflict of interest, to block outside editors from making changes to Native-related pages; excessively cited opinion pieces from fringe political figures, including those accused of racism and anti-semitism; blocked the use of legitimate primary and secondary sources that contradict their extremists beliefs, which violates Wikipedia’s rule against information suppression; posted originally researched, politically motivated essays instead of well-sourced articles; and harassed and defamed Native American tribes and living Native American people.”
Reacting in February to an early draft of the report posted on Google, the editors were incensed that anybody would voice complaints “off-Wiki.” ARoseWolf wrote that “we have been attacked, threatened with legal action and had misinformation/ false claims spread against us.” She and Yuchitown denied being part of a conspiracy against tribes or organizations and said they were just following Wiki rules. Yuchitown accused critics of being “meat puppets” of a person who objected to some Native content and enlisted others to back them up. In WikiSpeak this is meat puppetry.
“Volunteers on Wikipedia vigilantly defend against information that does not meet the site’s requirements,” the Wikipedia spokeswoman wrote. “These volunteers regularly review a feed of real-time edits to quickly address problematic changes; bots spot and revert many common forms of negative behavior on the site; and volunteer administrators (trusted Wikipedia volunteers with advanced permissions to protect Wikipedia) further investigate and address negative behavior. When a user repeatedly violates Wikipedia policies, Wikipedia administrators can take disciplinary action and block them from further editing.”
Inaccurate and insulting
In 2006, Wikipedia established the WikiProject Indigenous Peoples of North America to improve its Native-related content of 14,000 articles and more than 37,000 pages.
Recently, a hot topic on the project’s talk page was a proposal to change a category name from “unrecognized tribes” to “organizations that self-identify.”
On April 15 Melissa Harding Ferretti, chairwoman of the Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe in Massachusetts, wrote, “The proposed renaming of the category on Wikipedia is not only inaccurate… but also insulting.”
Ferretti is one of the few Natives to take on Wiki editors openly.
Herring Pond was originally listed with other Wampanoag tribes. In 2022 Yuchitown stripped “state-recognized” from the page, even though the state Commission of Indian Affairs regularly engages with them. Last year Yuchitown created a separate page for Herring Pond. Wiki editors resisted attempts to make changes or corrections.
After Wikipedia called Herring Pond a “cultural heritage group" and a nonprofi t that "claims" to descend from Wampanoags, Ferretti wrote in a Wiki discussion, “There is no claim, it’s a fact! Might I add, nonprofit status was imposed upon Tribal nations in the ‘90s because we didn’t have our federal recognition yet.”
Her tribe has a well-documented history. “We still have care and custody of our sacred places, burial grounds and our 1838 Meetinghouse, one of three built for the Tribe after the arrival of the colonizers. Our continuous presence and stewardship of these lands are recognized by historical records, deeds and treaties.”
Ferretti wrote that tribes without federal recognition already face significant hurdles to gain recognition, "and being labeled as 'self-identified' can add to these challenges by casting doubt on our legitimacy.” Mislabeling unrecognized tribes “can lead to the spread of hate, misinformation and further marginalization.”
Some Wiki editors agreed. One wrote that “there are strong negative connotations to saying someone who is Native 'self identifies,' because the inference is that they are Native in name only or falsely claiming to be Native. A change like this will impact countless articles…” Bohemian Baltimore, ARoseWolf and Yuchitown insisted there were no negative connotations. They opposed calling an unrecognized group a tribe because it legitimized groups with unverified claims. ARoseWolf said, “If they had proof of their connection to the original people they would have gotten federal recognition.”
This is a frequent refrain among the insiders, who apparently think the application process is a slam dunk instead of the long, difficult, expensive journey it is.
Yuchitown noted that “all of the editors who actively contribute to and improve Native American topics on Wikipedia have voted to support the renaming.” It’s a remarkable declaration that he and his allies act in concert.
The insiders took even stronger action against Lipan Apaches in Texas.
Late in 2022, Yuchitown changed the entry of the Lipan Apache Tribe of Texas to say that NCAI recognizes the tribe as state-recognized but the National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) does not. In fact, NCSL took down its web page listing federal and state-recognized tribes because it couldn’t verify the accuracy.
In boilerplate that appears on all the Texas unrecognized tribes’ websites, Yuchitown said Texas has no legal mechanism to recognize tribes, citing an online article that in turn cites the discredited NCSL web page.
In 2022, a tribal member and Yuchitown fought back and forth, reversing each other’s edits. In WikiSpeak, it was edit warring. The tribal member informed Yuchitown that the NCSL page he quoted no longer existed. CorbieVreccan told the member she was up against “two experienced editors,” and Yuchitown accused her of conflict of interest and edit warring. His fellow travelers demanded to know if she had an official position with the tribe. She didn’t.
ARoseWolf wrote, “As Wikipedia is not a state or government-controlled entity it can make up its own rules for what content is allowed on its platform.”
The Wikimedia spokeswoman says that in some extreme cases the foundation relies on a trust and safety team that will investigate and may also take action.
Campbell wrote in the report that many Native American communities and people “have been targeted by the small group of propagandists in this complaint… And the thousands of people who make these communities have been slandered and assaulted on Wikipedia through the actions of these propagandists.”
Link to the original article:
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dementedfilament · 10 months
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I know I'm working on so many goddamn things but! I've been thinking about Steam Train and it's gonna get a bit of an overhaul~ ✨
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haootia · 1 year
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goals for june are to reread/watch media that makes me Feel Something and hopefully by july i will be able to synthesize that into meaningful artistic output
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fordaryl · 5 months
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REMEMBER.
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minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
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bangchansnudes · 2 months
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fuckboy!hyunjin. 1.6k word. cliched enemy to lovers(??) with a douchebag hyunjin.
“don’t tell me you’re scared of some fake gore,” the boy whispers over to you, followed by a mocking chuckle, “need me to protect you baby?”
“shut up.”
“baby.”
“shut-”
“can you both shut up and just watch the damn movie?” seungmin says from his sitting position on the floor, his head turning back to glare at both you and hyunjin on the couch, “i swear if i need to pause it again, i’m throwing both of you out in the cold!”
if it weren’t for the fact that your roommate was dating seungmin, you would never ever interact with someone like his best friend, hwang hyunjin, let alone let him into your apartment.
but unfortunately for you, the two were the ultimate besties which meant where one boy went, the other usually followed. that’s why it had become a norm for the four of you to hang out. like right now, a weekend movie night.
you really didn’t mind seungmin, the boy was nice and treated your roommate well but hwang hyunjin was a whole other story.
hwang hyunjin. sigh. the boy was the literal definition of a fuck boy. an obnoxious frat boy who flirted his way through every living thing in a skirt. yeah, that was a way to describe him.
at first, hanging out with him wasn’t all that bad. you actually didn’t mind him either, the boy was somewhat funny and that face of his was just absolutely breath taking. one of the many reasons why he was so popular around town.
but then he began treating you differently, for some reason. he’d go out of his way to annoy you, to insult you, to tease you. he seemed to suddenly hate you and he made sure to let you know that.
and it had been hell since.
“i’m gonna make more popcorn,” you get off the couch and head towards the kitchen, sighing at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night with hyunjin. classes had already been hell for you so the last thing you needed tonight was a screaming match with the fuck boy.
“don’t do too much thinking, your small brain might explode.”
that voice. that god awful voice.
you turn around to see the devil himself leaning against the kitchen entrance, arms crossed over and a smug grin on his stupid handsome face.
“what? cat got your tongue babe?” he makes his way over to you, cornering you in against the kitchen cabinet, “or have you finally fallen in love with me?”
“fuck off hwang,” you push at his chest but the boy doesn’t budge, only laughing at your weak move, “i’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.”
“what do you have against me anyway?” he leans in closer to you, both his hands now resting on either sides of you on the cabinet, “is it cause i’m so good looking and so popular?”
gulp.
this has to be the closest you’ve ever been to hyunjin, his face barely even an inch away from yours. the smell of his cologne is attacking you from every direction, a very clear indication that he was way into your personal space than necessary.
“no hwang. i hate you because you’re so obnoxious and so self centred!”
“oh really?”
“yes!” your hands push up against his chest again as you say so, preventing the boy from coming any closer to you, “you think everything is about you! just because all the girls on campus wants to fuck you, doesn’t mean you can be such a douchebag all the time!”
perhaps you were crazy but you swear you could see his gaze move from your eyes to your lips as you spoke, the boy clearly not paying any attention to your words. you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet, why he’s not throwing insults at you but the way he’s staring is making you more nervous than ever.
you try to avoid his weird, intense gaze by moving away but the boy stays put, his arms on either sides of you seemingly sliding closer to your body instead.
“mo- move-”
“do you wanna fuck me?”
“what the fuck hyunjin?”
“you said every girl on campus wants to fuck me right? well do you wanna fuck me?”
“of course not!”
“well that’s really too bad,” he scoffs, a playful grin on his face as his hands grab onto your waist, holding you in place, “cause i wanna fuck you though.”
your mouth is frozen, your mind unable to process the words that had come out of his mouth. maybe you were just hearing things because there was no way he had just said what he said to you.
the boy who had made your life a living hell these past two months wanted to what? fuck you?
“you... what?”
“i said, i want to fuck you,” his grip on you tightens with every word, fingers now gripping so harshly into your skin that you’re certain marks will appear by tomorrow morning, “and if you don’t tell me to stop, i am going to kiss you right now.”
gulp.
“th- this isn’t funny. let go.”
you let out a squeal when he suddenly lifts you up onto the cabinet and moves to stand in between your dangling legs. his body is now comfortably pressed against yours, his arms tightly around your waist while yours are resting on his shoulders. it’s a position you wouldn’t have ever imagined you’d be in with him but here you are and you’re not pushing him away either.
“does it look like i’m trying to be funny?” his lips brushes past yours just slightly as he says so, a move you would’ve surely punched him for but at this moment, you don’t know how to react.
so many things are running through your mind, so many different potential reasons as to why he was suddenly acting this way.
“too late baby.”
and his lips were on yours before you could even respond, kissing you with so much force that your bottom lip immediately hurts. the boy is evidently desperate, wanting to taste more of you than just the surface.
his hands casually slides underneath your shirt as he continues to kiss you, causing an instant shiver through your body from his touch alone. you feel as though your body is on fire, every part of you screaming to be touched, to be pleased.
he moves away from you slightly after a bit, just enough for you to catch your breath again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, the intensity of his gaze only causing an embarrasing pool in between your legs. in addition to the pool that was already there during the kiss.
“if you just want to get your dick wet, well you’re not getting shit from me hwang.”
lies. you know for a fact that one more move from the boy and you’ll probably end up on your knees if he told you to.
but he didn’t need to know that.
“actually i’ve been trying for two months but you’re too fucking dense to notice,” he rolls his eyes at you, clearly annoyed, “why else would i spend every single weekend here? you think i really want to watch shitty b grade movies with the lovey dovey couple?”
“wait... what?”
“i flirt with you every single time! as if you really didn’t know!”
“being a dick is your way of flirting?” you make a disgusted face and slap his chest, “how on earth do you get girls everyday being this way?”
“well i haven’t had a girl in two months because the one i want is oblivious as fuck.”
silence.
...
more silence.
“well- well... i-”
“just shut up,” he smashes his lips onto your onces again, this time kissing you in a way that had your knees weak and your body feeling like mush. it’s a slow and sensual kiss, as if the boy is taking his time with you, wanting to feel every part of you.
you end up whimpering into the kiss when one of his hands moves to trace the thin lining of your pants, his fingers teasingly slipping past the band. but to your dismay, that’s all he does.
“hyunjin...”
“yeah baby, i’m right here.”
“oh. my. god,” you and hyunjin immediately freeze at your roommate’s sudden gasp, only to see her and seungmin standing at the entrance, completely disgusted, “i knew you guys would’ve ended up fucking one day but PLEASE not in my kitchen. PLEASE.”
“i told you dude. should’ve just confessed instead of giving me a headache for the past two months,” seungmin sighs dramatically before pulling your roommate away, “whatever, we’re going out. you guys play nicely.”
and the two are gone as quick as they appeared, leaving you and hyunjin alone in the apartment. no one says anything for a while but you don’t care. all you wanted to do was hide in a hole forever after being caught by your roommate and seungmin.
with a sigh, you decide it’d be best for you to get off the cabinet but hyunjin stops you.
“ah- i’m not done with you yet,” he says sternly, holding you in place, “we have a lot to talk about.”
“talk?”
“yeah like where you want me to take you on our first date.”
“who said i’d date you?” it’s your turn to scoff now, amazed at the boy’s confidence, “you wish hwang.”
“who you trying to fool? you were about to let me fuck you right here in this kitchen babe, so i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t say no to a date.”
“hwang hyunjin!”
“yeah baby, i’m right here.”
end.
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