#it’s just as rampant on here and in many other spaces

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to Truth or Dare

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Word Count: 5 k

Part 3: READ HERE

So many questions are left on Lt. Riley’s tongue as he finishes another cigarette and leaves the group of officers behind in the rec to make his way back to his quarter, the spectre's touch of your full lips still causing the skin on his mouth to tingle from the sudden lack of all that delicious pressure. There is so much he wants to make clear, even more he wants to do, but where to begin? It’s all so confusing.

As he lays down in his empty bed staring up at the ceiling, struggling to relax his feverish limbs as it still feels like he has been struck by a live wire, he fails to keep his wandering mind focused on his breathing to ignore the gnawing emptiness that is filling his chest from the absence of your presence. That’s when the questions start to roll in.

Did you feel something too? Maybe it was all just an act? Does that even matter if it was?

“No,” Simon mutters to himself through the silence to stop his train of thought from running rampant. He’s allowing himself to get distracted worrying about the unknown and that is something that will only cause more problems, but he is in turmoil.

Unsuccessfully he tosses and turns in the darkness that fills the space, his thoughts drifting back to that feeling of heat from the proximity of your bodies, the residual pressure from your mouth plastered to his, the look of pure lust in your gaze, and the gnawing compulsion of his fingers to get at your curves. 

But this isn’t a lover’s island, there is a job to be done here and he has seniority. Maybe it is better to leave this alone where it stands; who knows what disaster could come from getting involved with another officer in such a capacity. And yet…

There is no stopping his mind from wandering ceaselessly back to those breathless moments where his lips fought yours for dominance with the mind-numbing electricity flowing between you, the attraction so strong it did not seem possible for you both to pull from it. 

He has a problem and it isn’t going away.

Across base, laying in the dark in your own bed, your heartbeat pounding heavily in your chest, an ache runs its course throughout your limbs. There is a need for something to ease this overwhelming desire to be craved in a desperate, debilitating way, though you really don’t want to admit it. No, you don’t need something…you need someone. You need him.

You hadn’t been ready to admit it then, but there was a spark between you that is no longer possible to ignore now that you are alone, but you don’t know how to handle things any other way than to just ignore and move on; maybe the desire to have him again will die away if you just let it be. Even as the thought enters your mind you know it’s pure bullshit. There is no denying that things became complicated the second your lips met, that it was like igniting gasoline with a blowtorch. What was once mere infatuation that you could handle, has now grown into an untamed beast inside that leaves you feeling delirious and out of control. 

Rolling onto your side, you convince yourself to leave all these questions alone and focus on something else, anything to get your mind off of what you would be doing with the lieutenant at this moment if you both had not been interrupted. As you close your eyes to force sleep to come, visions of a bare and glistening officer thrusting between your legs fills your subconscious and you hope the morning comes soon enough because sleep is going to be short tonight.

Luckily, life around base rarely stands still long enough for anything other than work to get tended to. Any hopes of exploring that tension and ecstasy has to be put on the back burner as life in the taskforce resumes its usual chaos. Daily operations keep your schedule packed completely full all week so that certain thoughts get pushed to the back of your mind. And yet, during those slower moments of the day, they come creeping back up just like they never left. 

“ ‘ello?” Soap says as he waves his hand in front of your blank face. “Ye in there, lass?”

Your fork hangs limply from your hand, teetering over your plate lunch and threatening to fall with a clatter as you realize that you drifted off again. This is the third time this week that you have gotten so lost in thought trying to recall that feeling of the lieutenant’s lips that it’s becoming apparent to your fellow sergeant that something is off. Blinking a few times, you shake your head to clear your mind.

“What?” you shoot back at him as you stab the food and push it around the plate, pretending to eat even though you aren’t hungry.

“I’ve been talkin’ for a good five minutes and ye ain’t heard a word,” he says with a hint of agitation. His steady glare gives you the once over as he tries to read your face. “Where ye at these last few days, hmm?” 

You mask your face behind your customary smile. “Maybe I’m just trying to imagine a more engaging conversation than the one I’m currently in,” you pick, but Johnny isn’t letting this drop.

His eyes are still on you, scrutinizing your body language even as you stare down into your food to avoid his gaze. From the corner of your eye you can see the gears turning in that mind of his as if he is trying to put things together. You let it go on a few more seconds before you speak up.

“You got a problem or something?”

“It’s just strange,” he chuckles and you raise an eyebrow as you tilt your head to the side. “It’s just…I was speakin’ to Gaz yesterday and he mentioned that the lieutenant seems…distracted…as well lately. Same vacant look ye got goin’ on. Ye wouldn’t happen ta know why, would ye?”

Your heart leaps with a strong thud in your chest. Just what the hell is he implying? You had been certain that Johnny knew nothing, but now you aren’t so sure. Maybe you aren’t being as convincing as you think. “Why the fuck would I know that?” you play it off as you swallow down the lump in your throat. “Do I just know everything that goes on with everyone around here? I’ve got enough on my mind then to worry about the rest of you lot.”

Johnny leans in a bit closer over his plate and lowers his voice as he says the next part, making your blood run cold. “Must be a coincidence then, that both a ye just happen ta be actin’ different at the same time, ay? Ye know, on account a tha other night.”

The heel of your boot immediately connects with his foot only hard enough to make him yelp and pop back upright in surprise. You always forget that Johnny is smarter than he lets on and it’s clear he has been paying attention. Too bad you will never give him the satisfaction of admitting anything. With a laugh he sits back in his seat as you stare him down before rolling your eyes. 

“Why are you so worried about the lieutenant? Seems like someone’s a bit too obsessed and that can be a problem. You should probably talk to someone about that.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever ye say, lass,” he says, punctuating it with another chuckle as he tucks back into his lunch. “Whatever ye say.”

Firearms and ammunition is on the schedule for the rest of your day. It is your job to take inventory of all the munitions you’ll need for tomorrow’s end of week training. At least the repetitious task will keep you busy enough that hopefully you won’t be thinking about a certain lieutenant and what he could be up to right now.

At least that is the plan that you start with, but just as every other day this week soon that hulking officer begins to creep his way into your mind. Has Johnny been lying about how distracted the lieutenant seems lately? Could it be about what happened the other night or could it be something that has nothing to do with you? Little by little, it chips away at your calm until that is all you can focus on, even as you try and get through counting and gathering all the materials you’ll be needing for tomorrow. 

There is no way for you to know, but at that exact moment there is someone coming your way with a burning question that needs answering. 

All week Lt. Riley has gone about his days as usual, except try as he might to focus only on the tasks given to him, all he can do is mull over the same question in his mind: did you feel something in the kiss the way he did? It is eating him alive to know the answer and no matter where he is, who is speaking with, or what he is doing, the question is there to make him restless.

Until finally he has had enough. Just as the question overwhelms his mind again he throws down the work on his desk, shoves his chair back to get out, and leaves his office in a flurry. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but as he walks he passes by Captain Price’s office, the one person that would know where you are stationed today. Quickly he steps inside the doorway to ask. 

Price checks his computer screen that has all that information already pulled up. “She has firearm trainin’ tomorrow with the newer recruits, so she will be takin’ inventory in munitions today,” the captain relays the information, curious as to why his lieutenant seems tense and sounds a little out of breath. 

Before the captain can ask any more probing questions or mention to his officer that he will need to speak with him in a bit, the lieutenant heads off in a rush towards the munitions depot. No matter, the captain will let him conduct his business with you and send a messenger in a bit to bring him back.    

Lt. Riley crosses the base with nothing else on his mind but to get to you and when he does he finds you are completely lost in your work, none the wiser that you aren’t alone anymore until it’s too late. You don’t hear that signature click that means the main door is opening, nor the careful, but heavily booted footsteps padding across the floor in your direction. Just a few feet from you he stops and stares silently, waiting to see if you notice his presence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to feel a pair of eyes on you and looking up you come face to face with the person that was just on your mind. You can’t stop the way you hold your breath the moment your eyes connect as every involuntary process in your body gets interrupted by his sudden appearance. Desperately you try to regain composure and shake off that initial surprise; there is no need to make this awkward, it will only make things worse for yourself in the long run. 

Clearing your throat, you shoot him a smile. “Sir,” you greet him with a nod and a slight tremor in your voice that you quickly swallow back down. “Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. Did you need something?”

The adrenaline makes your limbs tingle and instead of just standing there awkwardly as you wait for him to respond, you put your hands back to the task before you hoping to cause your nervousness to settle. If you have to stand looking into his face in the stillness of the room for much longer, you might combust and the risk of looking like a fool is enough to make you act out being too busy to give him your full attention. 

Standing this close with the lingering feelings from the reaction that happened the last time you were together, the lieutenant is overwhelmed and it makes him pause. That same magnetism that he had felt that night is already pulling him to you, until his composure falls apart faster than he can calm it. Still, there is a question on the tip of his tongue that he is choking to ask; it’s the whole reason he’s here and he’s not leaving without an answer no matter what.

“I need ya to stop and look at me,” he says as he steps in towards you. You discreetly take a deep breath as you set your things down to turn your face back to look up at him. 

He’s already scrutinizing your body language, focusing on any sign that might give him an idea of where your thoughts are at this moment. Those brown eyes catch how tense your shoulders are through your t-shirt, how your pupils seem dilated as you meet his gaze, and finally the way your hands tremble as they hang at your sides.  

“I want ya to tell me the truth, yeah?” he says with a nod.

You stare back at him, big doe-eyes sparkling in the overhead lights as your pulse runs fiery hot through your limbs with the growing anxiety from wondering what the hell is going on. “Yes, sir?”

The mask covering his face clings a little too tightly and the clothing on his chest traps in the heat rising in his body, making his skin clammy as he struggles to vocalize that loaded question he’s had swirling in his mind for days. Lt. Riley clears his throat; he thought he’d come up with something better than this, but thinking clearly has long gone now. All he can do is just spit it out. 

“Mactavish’s stupid fuckin’ dare, ya remember it? I keep thinkin’ ‘bout it and I need ya to tell me somethin’: was it all an act, the way we kissed?”

Fuck, how are you supposed to answer this?

There is warmth blossoming in your cheeks as the thumping grows stronger in your chest. His question is simple enough, yet there isn’t a simple way for you to answer. Tell the truth? Could you actually go through with something that risky? For all you know he could be asking just to tell you that the kiss is to mean nothing because it will never happen again, that he wants you to let it all go to clear the air of any misconceptions. You pray that that is not what he’s about to say, but as you silently think about how to answer, he pushes for you to stop avoiding the question.

“I need ya to answer me,” he says firmly, eyes never leaving yours. “Were ya pretendin’ or did ya not want it to fuckin’ end?” 

A sharp inhale of air does nothing in helping to calm your nerves; you just have to get on with it. “I-it…wasn’t an act,” you say. 

The lieutenant has his answer, that’s what he wanted, right? Just to hear you say that the spark ignited between you in those few ecstasy-fueled minutes were genuine; that is it, isn’t it? His curiosity is sated and he should be able to move on, but he can’t. With your confession comes something more, something that he can’t let go of, and that is now that he knows it was real he wants it again. It consumes him to the point that he cannot move away and instead steps in closer as he grabs your biceps, forcing you to move backwards until you find yourself against the wall directly behind you.

“Sir?” you ask to get his attention as he continues to stand there staring intensely into your face without so much as a sound. You hadn’t felt this overwhelmed by his presence since the night you two kissed, but now it is back to cloud your mind and set your pulse pounding through your limbs. 

Your furrow-browed stare wavers as you clear your throat and repeat your question again. “Sir?”

Consequences are an inconceivable concept right now; the only thing playing in his mind are how fucking soft your lips look and how he desperately wants to get lost in them again. The sensations of reliving that experience from that night in the rec consumes every molecule in his body until there is nothing left inside him except for you. 

He needs it, he needs it now, and as that deep, longing ache settles itself in his chest to cause his heart to pound so hard that he can hear the beat in his ears, he throws sensibility away as he moves to grab your hips firmly in his gloved hands. 

“We really shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he says, his body pressing against yours as he draws you in. “Ya know it’s trouble.”

His actions don’t match his words and the contradiction causes your mind to falter on what you should do. Did he want this to end or not? Does he even really know?  

“Do you want to stop, sir?” you ask timidly as your body begins to vibrate with the sudden, intense pleasure of his hands as they are back on you again. “You know we can just forget it; it’s really fine.”

One of his hands leaves the curve of your hip and travels upwards so that those long, covered fingers can string themselves through the strands of hair at the back of your head. “Who said I wanted ta forget, hmm?” he admits with his eyes firmly on your lips, watching as they part slightly so you can take quick, short breaths in and out. “Do ya think I wasn’t there, that I didn’t feel what was happenin’ between us that night? Ya think I could just forget all that? Do ya think I want to?”

His gloved thumb wraps around your face so that he can brush it over your bottom lip, letting the electricity pass through the fabric from his fingertips into your mouth. You gasp from the ache his touch leaves behind and he exhales heavily at your reaction. “Do ya know the fuckin’ power ya have over me after that? Shit, I’m riskin’ a lot just ta be here like this with ya again, knowing what could happen when we’re alone. All because ‘a one fuckin’ kiss.”

You swear if he doesn’t do something soon you are going to pass out; your mind is spinning in circles as the warm tension gathering between your bodies becomes unbearable. Only a small swatch of fabric covering his face keeps you both apart and yet you can still sense the heated air from his mouth as it sweeps across the delicate skin of your lips the closer he lowers his head.

He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves you to the point of insanity right now. No, if he was going to stop it should have been long before now. As his hands cling to your body, there isn’t any chance that he is going to let you get away. He needs you, he has to have you, and it has to be right this fucking second to ease the painful longing that has kept him up all week.

Lt. Riley is gone; in his place is a depraved being that only yearns to feel that overwhelming passion that you gave him once again.

“I need more of the way it felt,” he groans adamantly. “I need ya, now.”

Before you can properly react to his heart-stopping statement, the lieutenant frantically wrenches his mask up and completely off his face, not wanting to be hindered at all from you anymore. All you catch is a crown of short blonde hair as he lets the cloth fall to the floor, closes his eyes, and leans in without another word to harshly smash his juicy lips together with yours in a reckless abandon that makes your knees buckle. 

Fucking hell it’s everything that he remembered and so much more; you taste like the best type of sin and he is ready to pay everything for it.

The force of his advance shoves your head backward into the wall as he takes your mouth with dizzying harshness, not hesitating to shove in his tongue to fill the cavity behind your lips to capacity. The tip of that wet muscle strokes across the roof of your mouth and the sensation causes your eyes to roll back into your head. If there was any doubt left in your mind, it has all dissipated now that his mouth is back on yours.

“Stop callin’ me sir. Say my name,” he forcefully demands in that husky, breathless tone, a yearning in his voice that makes your soul burn as he speaks those desperate words onto your skin. “Call me Simon.” 

You break from his mouth, your lips instantly desperate to form the word and say it aloud. “Simon,” you moan and it breathes new life into his name that he could never have predicted he needed.

Pining you tighter to the wall, he overtakes you rougher and rougher until the harshness of his movements abrades the skin of your mouth to make it swell and bruise. Relentlessly he siphones the breath from you to keep him going. That moist air fills his mouth so that he can speak. “Say it again,” he orders in a growl.   

It’s like honey as it rolls off your tongue and you can’t help but want to repeat it. “Mmm, Simon,” you whimper onto his mouth and goddamn the euphoria of having to swallow down the desperation in your voice suddenly awakens an insatiable ache that will need more to quench.

His gloves have to go, now, as his bare hands are burning to get their fill of your curves. Those thin pieces of fabric are hindering him from being able to connect with all that silky skin so that he can know what it feels like against his calloused palms. It is torment to be kept from all that ecstasy. Struggling to peel them off his fingers as he cannot pry his mouth away from yours at all, he finally frees those long, brawny digits and they waste no time in pawing wildly at your body. 

Greedy fingers recklessly claw and tear at your clothing, searching for an opening where he can penetrate to find enough balmy skin available to fill his hands until he cannot hold anymore. Deliriously and without looking he rips the pieces of your uniform up until he can get underneath them and let his fingertips get that first touch he has craved nonstop since the second he had pulled away from you that night. Those hungry lips continue to overwhelm your own as Simon is able to grab the hem and his hands have finally found their prize.

Laborious panting breaths fill up the space between you as the roughness of his hands grip into your hips and square them up against his own, pelvis’ grinding together in search of as much friction as they can find. Only a few layers of clothing keep your bodies apart, but that doesn’t stop Simon from rutting against you and you matching his movements. There is nothing else inside your head except the overwhelming euphoria of his touch along the lines of your body and the growing bulge in his pants that drills into you harder and harder the more it grows. 

No immediate danger is there to keep you both tame, no time limit looms over your heads that will force you to stop, and when two desperate things have nothing to lose, they simply let go. 

Every single one of his senses is overflowing with all of you: the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your sweet breath in his mouth, the warmth of your skin brushing over his, the beat of your heart that he can feel through his fingertips, the sound of your quiet whimpers making his head spin. Goddammit you are eager, so willing to meet his advancements with everything you have; there is no question about what you want. And he cannot lie that he wants it too. You’ve both started down this path and there is no turning back; he knows it’s wrong, he knows he should stop, but he won’t.

You are in his veins, circling inside his mind, part of the very air he breathes; whatever risk comes with this could never outweigh the reward of getting to sate the hunger that has been driving him insane.

“Fuck it all,” he growls and suddenly his hands are under your arms and you are being hoisted up off the ground. 

Your body reacts from pure instinct by spreading your legs wide and wrapping them around his broad hips, securing yourself to him with a clench of your thighs together. Simon knocks a gasp out of you as he slams your back up against the wall to use it for leverage, his body crushing yours as he begins to grind up into you with that throbbing, engorged cock that is straining to break the zipper of his pants. 

Through your clothes he thrusts up into you with powerful strikes, hips rolling into yours over and over with desperation as he tries to get just a little bit more friction between your bodies. You use your thighs to help push yourself up off of him, bouncing over his crotch in response to mimic the way you’d fuck him. 

Simon knows he shouldn’t go any further, that he should slow things down because this isn’t the place, but he won’t. Everything is already so close, but still not close enough. He needs the real thing, not this cheap imitation. Even in the haze of this delirious union, there is only one thing he knows he has to do.

He has to get you both naked. 

Feverish fingers claw into the negative space between your bodies at the bottom of your shirt until Simon can find the hem. The cooler air outside of your clothing hits your skin with a tingle to make goosebumps appear as he pulls it up off your stomach and over the swell of your breasts.

“Lift up your arms,” he says quickly and your eyes flutter open so that you can follow the demand. 

In one swift motion the shirt is off and Simon doesn’t waste any time in ripping off his shirt as well. The feeling of skin to skin sends shivers of ecstasy down his spine as he presses against you. So soft, so warm, fucking hell is he in over his head. He leans in, bending forward so that he can kiss the tops of your breasts through your bra as he hands wander again between your bodies to the clasp on your pants.

Just as his fingers loop through the waistband, you hear the tail end of it. There is no mistaking it, it’s the signature sound of the door to the armory closing shut. You have no time to act as a private with a message from Captain Price enters in a hurry, not paying attention, and stumbles upon something he shouldn’t have under no fault of his own. 

“Lt. Riley, Price needs to see y–” the messenger says as he finally looks up, immediately stopping dead in his tracks as his cheeks flush bright red at coming face to face with the two of you half naked and twined together. 

The private is tripping over his words as an exasperated growl shuts him right up. “Outside; now,” Simon barks harshly through a heavy pant as he turns his head enough to lock eyes with the now terrified private. Quickly the young man turns tail and bolts for the door, stumbling over his feet to get out as fast as he physically can. Once the click from the door closing shut is heard, those brown eyes turn back to you.

Simon draws in a deep breath before his head falls forward to rest up against yours, foreheads pressed together as he just holds onto you for a moment. “Goddammit,” he curses under his breath in disappointment. 

Carefully he untangles his body from yours and sets you back down onto your feet. “Times up,” he repeats the phrase that ended your encounter the last time, though his tone is markedly more miserable this time, and you can’t help the way your stomach knots tightly. 

Simon grabs all your clothing back up off the ground, handing you your shirt back as he goes to put his own back on. You immediately redress and straighten your uniform as best you can with your unsteady hands. Everything gets tucked back in place once again as you wait for him to head out without a word, since this seems to be following a certain pattern now. 

But instead of simply walking away leaving you to agonize about if you will ever get a chance like this again, his arm reaches out and those long gloved fingers wrap around your belt buckle, gripping it tight in his hand so that he can drag you back against him. The other hand finds its way under your chin to force you to maintain eye contact with him; he needs you to hear him and make no mistake about what he is saying. 

“This isn’t over,” he murmurs as he guides your head forward to place one last, lingering kiss on your lips before he breaks away to situate his mask back down over his face. 

With that he turns and heads outside to the private patiently waiting to finish giving him the message from the captain. You let your eyes follow him the entire way out the door and only when he’s gone do you finally release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 

This isn’t over. The words repeat on a loop in your mind. Fuck, you sure hope so.

Now the question is: when?

Tagging: @spooky-pomegranate

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon smut #simon #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost cod smut #call of duty simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2

[fatliberation]

If its ok to ask; how do you feel about fat kinks? I havent seen any fat acceptance blogs talk abt it. /genq

I know it's a sore spot for a lot of fat liberationists (and yes, I'm quite familiar with why so please do not take to my inbox), I think people are scared to talk about it. personally, I think it is crucial that people with fat kinks are able to access fat liberation spaces so long as they leave the kink at the door. I say this not only because the majority of them are fat people, but because that community is steeped in a deep shame and feeling of brokenness for taking delight in fatness and/or weight gain, which perpetuates rampant fatphobia. and fat liberation is what will heal those wounds. I don't understand it when fat activists tell kinksters/fetishists/feedists, whatever you want to call them to stay out of the fat liberation movement. because what is the alternative? do you want them against the movement? that doesn't make sense at all. I think people are so uncomfortable, disgusted, or afraid of this community they don't understand, that they just wish they wouldn't exist. they aren't going away. kink is akin to sexuality, to identity, to queerness. I think what people really mean when they say feedists should stay out of fat lib is, "kink should stay within spaces designated for kink." we aren't talking about kink when it comes to who can belong in a movement, we are talking about people. it is wrong to equate every person who has a kink or a fetish to a predator. it causes very real harm to those people, because they internalize that message that their kink makes them a bad person who is inherently worthless, who has to hide. if feedists aren't welcome in fat liberation, they aren't welcome anywhere.

I think that people who love fat people, love feeding people, love their own fat bodies, who see their fattest selves as their most satisfying selves, would be natural allies to this movement once they find their way to it and feel safe and accepted here. I want to make it absolutely clear that ANYONE is welcome on this blog as long as they aren't harassing or harming anyone. so many of my followers and biggest supporters are kink blogs. some of my closest friends and fat liberationist allies are feedists. I know feedists who are way more educated and passionate about fat lib and body politics than most people I've met. I don’t wish for anyone to feel alienated on my blog - especially fellow fat folks and fellow fat allies. we are 100% FAT POSITIVE AND SEX POSITIVE on this blog, babey‼️

In fact I feel really glad when I see fat kink/feedism blogs engaging with my content bc it means that person is putting the work in to understand systemic fatphobia, how to be an ally to fat people (if they aren't fat themselves), but also healing their community through education and acceptance. and HOT TAKE, BUT: when it does happen?? when feedists aren't shrouded in internalized fatphobia, shame, and isolation, and instead start embracing this innate, powerful appreciation for fatness, it's literally so fucking beautiful? and so very queer?

choosing to gain weight on purpose as an act of self creation. because it feels Right for you. gaining weight to affirm the relationship you have with your body. getting fatter because you feel so much of your identity (even gender presentation!) is attached to your fat body. feeling sexiest when you're fat. someone else worshipping that about you. giving unlimited permission to nourish yourself and/or others - and taking carnal delight in it. releasing food rules and food guilt through centering pleasure. food and fatness as an erotic and sensory experience. finding feedist partners who also have this ingrained love of fatness that can't be replicated, partners who are willing and eager to support and adore your fat body, NOT merely tolerate it. reclaiming tropes used against you through kink, and turning a loving gaze inward. saying "fuck you" to the system and choosing to take up more space in a world that consistently tries to shrink you. never denying yourself pleasure even though everyone is telling you you don't deserve it. feedism is such an interesting facet of the endless spectrum of human sexuality and I think that once people in that community find liberation and heal their relationship to the kink, it can be one of the most radical forms of self acceptance and exercising complete bodily autonomy.

I already know that a love letter to feedism coming from a fat lib blog is gonna piss people off. I'm going to lose a lot of followers, I'm going to get a lot of hate. but. kink in general is SO demonized and SO misunderstood and as liberationists we should also be open to sexual liberation. so much of this discomfort around feedism comes from a lack of education and understanding about kink in general. feedism doesn't = fatphobia in the same way that bdsm doesn't = misogyny or abuse. quite the contrary, if practiced ethically, with informed consent. every community has assholes. especially when those communities are small, ostracized, and so young that there are next to zero resources for self acceptance, safety, education, and accountability. in fact, the assholes are the ones that you're going to SEE because every respectful person is staying away and out of your business. if you've been harassed by someone with a fat kink, that is so shitty and I'm sorry that happened to you. I know it happens a lot. try to remember that what you experienced was abuse, not kink.

what consenting individuals choose to do with their bodies is entirely their business and there is nothing wrong with kink. (and I will not stand for sex-negative, puritan bullshit in my inbox, thank you very much.)

reminder: fat pleasure is fat liberation.

#inbox

[rainbowfractals]

This post is about antisemitism. I'm going to put my cards on the table here. I am not Jewish, I am a Muslim. I have been spending a lot of time in predominantly left and leftist spaces for some years. I've been paying attention to what's being going on on this site too. I think the left, the right no matter what your politics are has a big problem with antisemitism. I've seen people constantly dismiss it, claim it isn't a priority, claim the effects aren't that bad.

Within the last 4 months, I have seen many Jewish people on the Internet , on this site and others leave or take down anything relating to being Jewish because of constant harrasment. This harrasment has had an upsurge but it is not new, I remember hearing the same canards and same false claims years and years ago. I keep seeing people betray a callousness to effects this political enviroment and hostility has on Jewish people.

They refuse to even push back against statements like 'they care more about the jews' or 'being a member of the chosen people means your better than everyone else and they're your slaves', 'there are too many jews in the government', 'there are no palestinians who are of jewish descent, have jewish family members or are jewish and this is propaganda''. I've seen people unable to speak about grief about those they trusted and respected turning out to be antisemites without being harrased over the ethnic cleansing in Palestine.

I've seen a lot of antisemitism in Muslim spaces too, ranging from 'we're tolerant and this is how they repay us', to condenscension to 'some aren't bad but others are bloodthirsty and vengeful', and denial of any antisemitic attacks or crimes done by Muslims. I have also seen attempts to put a stop to this and defend against this and correct misinformation.

But the biggest problem I've seen is that their are a lot of people, who see this is wrong but don't do much about it, or think that it will somehow take away from calling for Palestinian liberation some who have saying this line for years others who have only just started saying it recently. In my experience it is generally not Palestinians saying this who are far more likely to push back against dehumanzing rhetoric than those who say , 'Oh we can't focus it now, Palestinians are dying.' In fact I seen anger against using phrases like 'free palestine' to hurt Jewish people as using the oppression of a people to be antisemities.'

People [in general] keep adding all kinds of caveats 'oh some are good', 'oh some are kids', like acknowledging the humanity of the Jewish people takes the lifeblood away from a Palestinian. In my experience openly saying one should listen to and defend Jewish people and Jewish communities from antisemitism without question is getting increasingly a volatile response. Simply saying that 'Oh what if they're a Zionist?' to just horrific biogtry is antisemitic and you should never deny what's happened to them is bad on that basis. Its used a dogwhistle to justify anything.

And here's the thing, I've spent the last 5 or so years trying to learn all I can about Judaism and Jewish culture, and the dissonance between what I now know and what I see around me has grown very wide. I don't know that much, but I keep seeing the same misinformation and lack of care as to how destructive it is. I keep seeing people assuming that antisemitism is someone else's problem to deal with. I keep seeing all kinds of monolithic, flattening and caricatures that bear no resemblance to the reality.

The most jarring thing was that there are people on this very site that if you had one should support and stand with Jewish people against antisemitism to make a fairer world that had learned a lot about why it is so rampant are now shying away from these statements. Jewish people are spoken about as if one event has obliterated any past or present of discrimination. As if their lives they have led have ceased to exist. The things that caused that atrocity and the current horrors were still around 5, 10 years ago. It wasn't out of nowhere.

I have seen those who have no issue with agreeing with neo-nazis and just violent hate and doxxing and shootings and so on and simply unpersoning Jews in their mind. This has happened many times before and unless there is a big change will happen many times again.

More and more Jewish people are ailenated and leaving places there otherwise went, changing how they live their lives and so on. To all those who are suffering from this. I'm sorry that this happening you shouldn't be treated in such a cruel way.

And to those of us who seen or noticed this withdrawal, we should try to prevent it. Its not enough to say that's wrong to some hateful statements we have work against a hostile and suspicious enviroment this hate flourishes in and give it no air to breathe and to water to drink from.

Antisemitism is not someone else's problem, its all of our problem. We should be vigilant in spotting it and then doing something about it. Many say this but there is a great need for action. Everywhere, on the social media, on the schools and workplaces in the place sof worship in the businesses, in the politics, in the media and so on.

I'm going to say this again, as because I am not Jewish I cannot be claimed to be priveleged and looking for attention by those denying the case. When I say volatile reaction, I mean there are people who viewed me talking about differences in theology between Judaism and Islam and the work of David Bar-Tzur in sign lanaguage interepretation Jewish settings and writings and community work with the Jewish Deaf community and how Judeo-Christian does not exist and is antisemitic and so on.

As first distaste 1 as I spoke to them about it over multiple conversations and was met with increasing hostility and eventually claims that I was following 'degenerates' and that I was too 'kindhearted' and had become 'brainwashed' by 'Zionist media'. Which quickly changed from condescending pity to cold anger when I protested against this. When said I wasn't going to get disclaimers that some 'Jews are bad' all the time whenever I said anything about them and deemed what they were saying to be antisemitic, the conversation devolved from there.

In their eyes I'm object of suspicon for essentially sympathising too much with Jewish people and knowing 'too much'. Yes they considered the amount I knew to be a sign I was brainwashed. It was even insinuated that I lack faith in my own religion and so on. If I didn't like this, I could just walk away and ditch everything I have said and done then keep my head down. But those suffering from antisemitism can't do this as they are being targeted.

That's all I have to say. Please respond if you have anything you'd want to say to me.

This was someone I've known for years who had over time more and more negative reaction, by distaste I mean there was a distinct sense of when I brought the topic up. Perhaps naively I keep trying to talk with them knowing what I know now I would have disengaged sooner and stopping trying act like this was a two-sided good faith discussion earlier, but the past is the past.

I also did not expect this post to get so much traction, I assumed some of my mutuals would read it and it would get some likes and a few reblogs and replies then the attention would leave my blog. I've been reading the responses, thank you for what you've had to say.

Also there are many people doing good work fighting against this in Muslim communities all over, I fear perhaps my original version this post didn't focus on that much, I was talking more about people causing and keeping up this issue.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #muslim #antisemitism in muslim communities #fractal posts

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #an idyllic novelist #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader #fem!reader #viviziepop #lucifer morningstar #valentines day #happy valentine's day

[juyeonszn]

SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?�� The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn

[mulderscully]

i know it's a silly harhar joke and i find it funny too but characters like alex and buck not realizing they're bisexual for a long time isn't because they're stupid. it's not because they necessarily dislike being attracted to men. it's because of bisexual erasure within both heterosexual and queer space being rampant for a long time and is only starting to get better now. bisexuals make up around 60% of the lgbt+ community, (in the us) but look how long the wikipedia page for bisexual erasure is.

not only do more women/afab people identify as bisexual, but keep in mind that bisexual people overall are much less likely to identify as bisexual to others or be out than gay and lesbian people because part of the bisexual experience is feeling like you're not allowed to even sit at the table, so to speak. most bisexual+ men may have queer feelings and experiences, but they may not examine those things as much as a bisexual women might because biphobia and the patriarchy tie together in a way that is unique to bisexual men.

characters like alex and buck are so impactful because they're new. most bisexual representation in tv and film has been women until recently, and even that is still rare. a character like callie torres on grey's in 2009 — when i was 14! — helped me see myself as a bisexual, but men have not had characters like that until nearly ten years later. and it's not until i even read rwrb in 2020 that i saw any bisexual character not receive some degree of biphobia from their love interest.

representation is important because when we see someone experience what we experience it helps us name something we may not have fully understood about ourselves before and put a name to it because they're on that same journey on screen. alex and buck were always bi, they just didn't know they were allowed to be so. they're not stupid, they were failed by society and had to unlearn their own internalized biphobia and bisexual erasure because so many of us, even subconsciously, think we're not allowed to exist and/or to take up space in a community that we are literally in the acronym of. no one really talks about us except us.

you're not stupid if you didn't know you were bi the whole time, you're not stupid for not knowing when you were a teenager or in your twenties either.

(*i am genderfluid/nb but am mostly using m/f here for the sake of this specific conversation. bisexual nb people exist too.)

#911 #rwrb #it's very hard to come out as bi. it's hard everytime

[musashi]

I Joined The Homophobic Linked Universe Discord Server So You Don't Have To

Hi Everyone! Wendy Musashi "Mu" RokettoMusashi here. You might know me as the bitch who wrote one good LU fic and then fucked off. One of the reasons I fucked off was because of rampant bigotry in this fandom, and hilariously enough that is also why I'm back.

Many of you may not know this, but I was a pro edgenetter internet troll back when I was in middle school. I eventually turned 14, and so that means I do not do that anymore, but I do still possess all the skills I had back then RE: infiltrating spaces not meant for me and causing problems, so I am now using it for good and to balance out my universal karma. Yippee.

Below is a google doc I made listing all known participants in the "LU/LOZ Safe Haven" server. It lists discord usernames, known tumblr usernames, and a few other websites like instagram and AO3 handles.

SOME GOOD NEWS: I am incredibly adept at sniffing out who is genuine and who is there to gather recon, and most of the people in this server are not homophobic. judging by their join dates, usernames, and very over-the-top "straightsonas," a ton of these people are doing the same thing I am. I think only about 5 of the users here are actually here to be homophobes.

Also in the google doc, I just straightup exported the entirety of their "perspectives" channel. This is the channel where they go to talk about more socially/politically charged stuff. I do not recommend reading it if you're easily triggered, but if you want to point and laugh at some of the insane shit these people believe AND feel vindicated in/be convinced of all the backlash they are receiving, I highly recommend it. If you are someone who is on the fence on if they hate they are receiving is justified, I think maybe starting here is a good idea to pull you off the fence.

Here is the doc containing everything I was able to find.

If you have any additional information (especially tumblr or any other social media URLS i missed) please drop me an ask.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #fuck with me #please reblog this

[99hook]

Insufferable | Part Two

Synopsis: Two people who swear they hate each other’s guts but still can’t leave each other alone.

Warnings: angst, pining, oral (female and male receiving) choking, Tyler is still arrogant and still has that filthy mouth, YN is still a smart ass who brings him to his knees. Also, jealous!hook. An injury and some blood too.

A/N: you guys really wanted this and I couldn’t resist writing it. I just wanna let you know that I read all of your suggestions for this and they’re all incorporated in this filthy fic. So I hope you enjoy and if you’re lost right now, you can read part one here! 🫶🏼

Proceed with caution cause there’s like 2 different smut scenes 😮‍💨

You had a couple of little secrets now. Things you couldn’t tell your friends no matter how bad you wanted to, simply because for the longest time you swore you hated everything about that man. You still do, but it’s a weird kind of hatred you feel towards him, now that his hands have been all over every inch of you. A kind that makes you want more reasons to despise him.

Tyler, on the other hand, finds the whole thing pretty hilarious. He spots you in the hallway and notices that you no longer look at him with that infuriation you used to, but what looks more to him like desperate desire you clearly were way too prideful to admit. You still had the faintest shadow of purple discolorations on your skin and he starts to realize how long it’s been since he had you a moaning mess in the showers.

Of course that just makes him want you all over again.

You were doing a better job than he expected you would. You haven’t even tried to shoot him a text when you’re alone at night in your room, thoughts of his body against yours running rampant through your mind. It surprised him to say the least but he knew you well enough now to know that you’re the second most prideful person on the planet, and he’s the first.

He held a smirk on his lips as he stopped in front of you, his eyes lingering to the faint marks his lips left on your skin one week prior. You felt your cheeks heat up beneath your skin and did your best not to let that show, but he already saw the red blush creeping up from your chest to your face and this only made that coy smirk spread wider.

“Can I help you?” You bit out, bringing your hair over your shoulder to hide those marks you knew he was feeling way to proud of. His eyes then met yours, and you hated the way they instantly made your heart violently pound against your chest.

“Are you avoiding me now?” He takes a step forward, lingering his eyes down your body that he would deny, but he hasn’t stopped thinking about.

“I’ve always tried to avoid you.” You snap back, watching as his dimple deepens on his cheek.

“No, not always.” He lets his hand linger out, the tips of two fingers roaming over the band of your shorts, earning chills to skate down your spine at the simplest touch. “If that were the case you wouldn’t have been moaning my name last week.”

You swallowed hard past the dryness of your throat and boldly stared into his dark, amused eyes. His fingertips trailed a line across your stomach before you felt one hook underneath the waistband, just to pull the fabric back and pop it against your skin.

“One time thing.” You managed to say, even though your voice was suddenly shakier than you wished it would’ve been. “And I already forgot about it, but thanks for the unpleasant reminder.”

His hand fell to his side but that smirk on his lips remained as he shook his head from side to side slightly. “Seems like you forgot something else” he tilts his head to the side, taking a single step closer but closing the space between you completely. “What did I tell you about that smart ass mouth?”

You were flashed right back to one of the many moments that’s been playing through your mind like a movie. Dropping to your knees so easily for him, letting him fuck your throat while tears streamed down your cheeks and reveling in all the strained sounds that he let out. You immediately felt a wetness seep into the fabric of your panties and you hated him for it.

Just then, he took a step back, his eyes adverted to something behind you, that ended up being Willow when she walked up to you. She had a little bit of a confused look on her face, just seeing Tyler standing there in front of you because from what she knew, you absolutely despised that man and most of the time you’re doing all you can do to avoid his constant banters.

But all he did was take a step back and stand there, keeping his eyes held firmly on you as you forced yourself to recollect your thoughts enough to appear like everything was normal.

“Hey girl, we were just looking for you. We didn’t see you after your match last week.” She says as she reaches over and smooths a couple flyaways fluttering around your hair.

“Yeah I went home early.” You blurt the first lie you could think of, and Tyler had to drop his head to hide the prideful smirk on his face. “I wasn’t feeling that great. Something made me sick to my stomach.” You let your eyes linger to him to make sure he caught those words, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Damn, something you ate?” Willow asked.

And that’s when Tyler cut in, ever the most arrogant man that he’s always been. “Nah, she ended up choking on something. I saw it myself.” His eyes had a mischievous gleam to them and you wanted more than anything to blacken them with your fists.

“Oh God, are you okay? Did you need like, the Heimlich Maneuver or something? Why didn’t you tell me that?” Willow asked, then she glanced over at Tyler when all you did was remain silent, simply because your veins were on fire with the rage you felt towards that cocky man.

“I was fine, it wasn’t as bad as Tyler’s making it sound. I just wanted to get back to the hotel and try to forget all about it.” You piped back up, keeping your eyes on him.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright. We missed you in catering. You gonna meet us after your match tonight so we can all leave together?” She asked, and Willow always had a thing for playing with your hair while she talked to you but, that’s when she caught sight of the purple patches right below your ear, and even though you tried to hide it, she caught it before your hair was pushed back over your shoulder.

“Umm, what the fuck is that?!” She nearly gasps. “YN, you didn’t even tell us-“

“Tell us what?” Skye’s voice finds you as soon as she walks around the corner. Tyler was practically beaming now, loving the way you were getting caught up by two of your friends, exactly how he wanted it to happen.

“She has a hickey” Willow says as she points at the side of your neck.

“No, it’s a bruise.” You quickly blurted, but caught the way Tyler’s brows raised the second you said that.

“A bruise? That’s not a fucking bruise” Skye said when she gets a good look, moving your hair back with her hand. “I’m sorry but who the hell gave that to you? Was it Daniel?! You didn’t even tell us you were seeing him again.”

Tyler’s teeth clenched behind his lips when your ex was mentioned. The man just couldn’t help it.

“I’m curious too.” He chipped in, holding his eyes on yours with that agonizing look of pure pride and enjoyment. You cut your eyes at him, and he smirked back effortlessly.

“Nobody important.” You bit out, making sure you stared him down just as strongly as he was you.

“No?” Tyler chipped back in, tilting his head to the side as he leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

Skye and Willow both picked up on the tensions arising between the two of you, feeling the atmosphere shift around them.

“Nope. Just some meaningless fuck I don’t care to talk about.” Then you glanced over at the girls next to you. “It wasn’t even good.”

But that’s when tyler took a step forward and Willow and Skye both took two steps back, their eyes wide and nothing but shocked when Tyler’s fingers squeezed your cheeks and his lips lingered against your own.

“Remember what I told you? Right before I made you come all over me?” He reminds you of something you surely hadn’t forgotten, but all that was going through your mind was the way you wanted him filling you back up all over again.

Willows mouth dropped open and Skye’s eyes were as wide as the moon as they stood there, unable to speak.

“I’m not letting anyone else take credit for the way I ruined you that night, so tell them the truth, or I’ll have no choice but to prove you’re nothing but a pretty little liar.”

You held your eyes on his, your heart hammering ninety beats a minute as his lips barely grazed over yours, and when you finally were able to pull your eyes away, all you saw was willow and Skye taking more steps back with looks of confusion, shock and most of all, complete disbelief painted on their faces.

“You two hate each other?!” Skye eventually spat, staring dead at you, wondering how long they’ve been in the dark about this.

“That’s what she wanted you to think, but maybe you don’t know your best friend the way you think you do.” He smirked, keeping his eyes on you as he slid his thumb across your bottom lip.

“I-I don’t- I’m so-“ Willow stammered.

“Yeah, anyway, we have some unfinished business to take care of, so I’d get out of here if I were you.” He glances over to watch as they both give you a dumbfounded look before slowly backing down the hall.

Once they’re gone, he has your full attention again.

“I didn’t want them knowing. I didn’t want anybody to know.” You spat, taking a step back.

“I told you already, nobody else is getting my credit. Should’ve hid those hickeys with more makeup if you really wanted to hide it that bad.” He shrugged. “But I think we both know that you’re lying again. You would’ve ended up telling your little friends everything. You’ve probably been dying to.”

He was right, but you weren’t gonna tell him that. You attempted to shoot him that infamous glare you’d perfected just for him but he was completely unfazed by it at this point that all it did was make him chuckle.

“Since your little secret is out, I guess I can leave as many marks on your neck as I want to now.” He steps closer, his hands easily finding your hips as he pulls you against him.

You had to take a second to recollect your thoughts but once you did, you managed to say, “I have a match in half an hour, I can’t do this right now.”

But you felt his lips lingering against your neck the second those words slipped out and just like before, your eyes rolled back and nothing but breathy sighs came out of your mouth as you involuntarily melted into him, like pure, delicate putty in his dangerous hands.

“That’s gonna be a tough match for you” he mutters against you. “Don’t know how you’re gonna perform when you can’t even walk straight”

You clenched around absolutely nothing as his words sent shivers down your whole body. An affect you wished wasn’t so strong but unfortunately for you, it was.

You threw all caution to the wind and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, immediately giving in to him as soon as his lips latched to yours. It was filled with desperation from you both, and it was something that completely snatched the all the oxygen right out of your lungs.

He’d be lying if he said he had any control over this. All he could think about from that moment you left the shower room to now, was exactly what he plans to do next.

The locker rooms were right across the hall and that’s exactly where he pulled you to the second you detached. Despite the fact that anybody could come in at any second, all he could think about was getting between your thighs and letting your sweetness embed in his tongue all over again.

He was surprised at how easily you let him take all the control. You didn’t even attempt to make a smart remark and in a way, it was refreshing, but he also kind of missed that bantering the two of you always did.

He guided you over to the bench and slid your shorts down to your ankles before you fully sat down. Then, he was on his knees once again, eager for the sweet taste of you.

This time, he wasted no time warming up. He was impatient and he didn’t care that he was showing it. His lips locked around your clit and he started suckling pulsations against the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking aggressively over it as he watched your head hit the lockers and heard those beautiful sounds slip past your lips.

His fingers slid inside of you, finding that familiar spot that he knew made your head spin. He knew he had limited time to do this and he was wasting none of it as he used one hand to keep your thigh pinned against the bench, and the other one pumping your g-spot harshly.

“Fuck- fuck tyler that feels so good, you can’t stop” you cry out, making no effort to keep your tone minimized. He smirked against you before his lips cupped around your clit again, tilting his head to the side as he kept lapping his tongue.

“Thought you said I wasn’t good?” He teased, muttering hot breaths against your slick core. “Sounds like it feels pretty fucking good to me. Sounded like it felt good last week, too.”

His fingers pounding against your sweet spot kept you from being able to banter back, which was exactly why he slowed those pumps down to almost nothing and waited for your eyes to lock with his.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He brought that condescending edge back to his raspy voice. “You want more? Even though you said it wasn’t even good? Is that why you’re clenching my fingers this tight?”

You bucked your hips in a silent plea but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Nah, that’s not gonna work this time, angel. Need to hear you admit it. Own up to something for the first time in your life, and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

You rolled your eyes and laid your head back against the lockers. You felt frustration overpowering you but especially when his fingers slowly, painfully slowly curled against your sweet spot.

“You could be coming all over my fingers right now if you weren’t so stubborn” he chuckles darkly, “all you have to do is say the word, baby, and I’ll have you seeing the stars all over again.”

He gave two more slow pumps before you couldn’t take it anymore. You nearly groaned as you arched your hips, desperate for more and breathed out, “fuck tyler, it feels so fucking good, I need more, just stop fucking teasing me, please!”

He smirked, then thrusted those fingers with a quickness that pulled an abundance of whines and moans out of you. He watched your thighs tremble and felt your walls clamping down so tight it was hard for those fingers to even move.

That’s when he rose up, his lips coming to linger over yours as he continued pumping against your g-spot. “Taste yourself.” He muttered, and as you parted your lips, his freehand snaked around your throat, gently squeezing as his tongue slipped over yours.

You felt your blood rushing to your head and that familiar dizziness that you didn’t even realize you missed so much. The taste of yourself mixed with mint lingered on your tongue and it only took three more curls of those long, slender fingers before he felt your walls pulsate and that warmth coated his whole hand.

He smirked against your lips, then pulled those fingers out as much as he wanted to toy with you a little, because he knew time was running out.

He pulled his shorts down halfway and his cock sprung free. Your eyes slightly widened when you saw it again. You somewhat forgot how big he actually was until it was proudly displayed, and you licked your lips without realizing it.

“You really do deserve this dick shoved down your throat, but there’s another place I want to put it right now.” He whispered heavily as he pulls back and picks you up, sitting himself down on the bench with you straddling him.

Your hands instinctively found his shoulders as he held his shaft, positioning himself right where he’d been dying to be before he used his other hand to hold your hip, lowering you down until you felt him in the pit of your stomach.

That familiar sting upon first contact made you moan out, but it was overpowered by his breathy sigh the second he felt your walls squeezing him with that same, hard grip that he hadn’t stopped thinking about since the last time.

He angled his hips to see just how deep he could push himself in and watched as your eyes instantly rolled back, teeth biting hard on your lower lip, so hard you’d probably draw blood in a second.

He watched you carefully as he angled his hips, slowly thrusting deeper. His brows knitted together as soon as you started meeting his thrusts halfway, and the slow, fluid motions quickly turned into harsh snaps of his hips as soon as your head fell against his shoulder.

“You’re unbelievably tight right now” he groans out, wrapping his arms tightly around your back. “Squeezing the fucking life out of me, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered at the use of the pet name that had been running through your mind for a week now. The simplest of names that made your whole body tingle.

His hips thrusted upwards and you did your best to keep up with the pace, but he was merciless. He wasn’t planning on slowing down and all you could do was hold onto him and let him take you on this wild ride, just how he wanted.

His lips latched to your neck, finding that spot below your ear that shot a blaze through your whole body. He felt your nails raking his shoulders as his teeth grazed your skin. The sounds of skin harshly slapping and wet suctions was likely filling the hallway right outside but he didn’t give a fuck about it.

He pulled back to admire the fresh mark on your neck, his hot breaths puffing against the slick skin. “Gonna be hard to hide that” he smirked, letting his lips linger against your shoulder. “Know what else would be hard for you to hide, baby?” He slides down slightly and squares his feet for leverage. “Me putting my baby in you”

He felt your nails dig deeper into his skin, knowing you wanted to banter back but you were way too fucked out to do it. “How would you cover that one with one of your little lies? Stuck with me forever, cause you just can’t seem to leave me alone for some reason.”

He thrusted harder, reveling in the way you were trying with all your might to keep your voice down. “Feels like that’s exactly what you want, baby. Feels like you’re tryna drain me right now. I always knew it. Always knew you were just dying for me to fuck you senseless.”

You pulled back, dropping your head against his. His eyes stayed intently staring into yours, loving the way you just couldn’t seem to collect yourself in the slightest.

“No control over yourself now, huh? That smart ass mouth just doesn’t have anything to say when I’m shoving my cock up your tight little pussy. You just sit there and take it, cause that’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.”

You tipped your head back and screwed your eyes shut. You felt his lips brush against your collarbone as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, his teeth grazing your skin as he fucked into you with a force so strong you were unable to process anything except exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Fuck tyler” you moan out, grabbing a fistful of his hair in your hand, earning a groan to reverberate through his throat. “you don’t even know how good you feel right now!”

“Oh I know, baby” he smirks, “i can feel it”

You dropped your head back down, lips parted and puffy before he crashed his into them, before pulling back slowly.

“Harder, please” you whimpered.

With that, he angled his hips more and thrusted even deeper, knocking his tip against your cervix with each push in, and it was only moments before your whole entire body was quaking, fingers trembling and thighs shaking as you arched your back and let that high power through you.

“Fuck you’re so hot when your coming on my dick, baby. So fucking gorgeous letting me fuck you senseless. Taking me like a good girl, no tears this time” he groans, rocking you through the high as his own quickly creeps up on him.

You collapse against him and he just holds you tighter, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he fucks into you a little slower, knowing how overly sensitive you probably were, but fast enough to still keep you a moaning, whimpering mess for him.

“So good for me, every fucking time. Coming on my cock like you’re supposed to, letting me fill that tight little pussy while you take every last drop. Can’t wait til my come is dripping down your thighs in the ring. Hope the cameras don’t catch that, or else your little secret is gonna be out for the world to know, not just your little friends.”

You moaned against his shoulder when you felt his cock twitch, before that familiar warmth engulfed you. His arms tightened, his hips stuttered and hot, heavy breaths were puffed out against your neck before he pushed himself all the way in, and gave two extra thrusts for good measure.

Once he slid out; you realized you were fucked. You attempted to stand but he had you by the arm to steady you the second he saw you wobble on your feet.

You glared at him, but ended up smirking instead.

“Your match is in, like, ten minutes” he tells you as he pulls up his shorts. “I’ll be watching you struggle from the viewing room. Can’t wait to see how you try to hide the fact that you just got throughly fucked backstage.”

You pulled your shorts up and shot him another look, attempting to fix your hair but you could feel the tangles and knots all throughout it.

“I would go find some make up for that neck, too, unless you just want to let the world know I’m fucking the shit out of you, in which case, I’m not really opposed to that.” He shrugs with that sly smile plastered to his lips.

“I bet you would love that.” You bite back, doing what you can manage to make yourself decent.

“I would really love it, actually.” He grins, and that’s when you shake your head as you back up towards the door.

“Never gonna happen. I need to go figure out how to hide this shit on my neck, again.”

He sits back down in the same spot on the bench he was just fucking you, and can’t help but feel prideful once again at that remark.

“There’s no point, yn. We both know I’ll just give you more next time.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped out the room, but didn’t realize it would’ve been smarter if he stepped out first to make sure nobody was around and caught you leaving the men’s locker room with fresh hickeys all over your neck.

Unfortunately your brain was a little scrambled but it was fully aligned once again when you came face to face with your ex, Daniel.

“Uh, hi” you awkwardly greeted him, stepping away from the door as if you didn’t just walk right out of the room itself.

He eyed you, then the door behind you. “Why are you coming out of the men’s locker room?” He asked, and that’s when his eyes lingered down to the fresh marks on your neck you weren’t smart enough to hide sooner. “Yn, are those hickeys?”

You could see the flash of pain strike his eyes and looked down at your feet to avoid it.

“What the fuck?!” He spat, a little louder than you wished he’d be. “You’re just going around fucking people now?! That fast?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Who the fuck are you with?!”

He tried to step around you but you moved to the side to stop him. “It’s none of your business Daniel, we’ve been done for a while now.” You tried to be gentle about it but he was evidently hurt and, probably really angry.

“A month, yn. A month isn’t that long. You’re already spreading your legs and all I’ve done is try to get you back!”

“I am not just going around spreading my legs!” You snapped, “and I don’t want to get back with you! I told you that! I-“

Right before you could finish that sentence, you heard the door creek open behind you, and you couldn’t help but to screw your eyes shut.

“Wait” Daniel pieces it all together when he sees Tyler standing behind you, his hair a wild mess, more than the usual. “This guy?! Are you fucking serious?! You told me you couldn’t stand him!”

“She lied.” Tyler piped up, stepping closer until you felt his body heat lingering against your back. “Get over it.”

Daniels eyes darkened, Tyler’s eyes narrowed, and you felt the sliceable tensions escalating.

Daniels eyes adverted back down to you, pure disbelief scattered throughout. “Everyone was right about you.” He scoffs coldly. “You’re nothing but a fucking whore.”

As soon as he said that, you felt Tyler brush right past you, moving you out the way before the sound of knuckles to a bone filled your ears and Daniel was sliding down the wall.

“Tyler! What the fuck!” You shout, grabbing him by the arm to pull him back.

He spun around with flames in his dark eyes, his cheeks red and splotchy. “Don’t let that stupid motherfucker talk to you like that!” He spat, his teeth gritting afterwards.

“You can’t just punch him in the face like that!” You shout back, watching as he glances over at Daniel, and the smears of blood over his busted lip. Tyler avoided you, turning to face him instead.

“Count your blessings shes here, or you’d be chewing on your teeth right now.” He pointed down at the injured man before he eyed you over, and headed down the hall. You didn’t have the time to make sure Daniel was okay nor did you now have the chance to stop by hair and makeup to cover those worsening marks on your neck, so you really wanted to scream at Tyler for that but, no time for that either.

You did your best to make yourself presentable as you raced to the gorilla. Tyler had just gotten himself comfortable in the viewing room when your music hit. He watched with a smirk as you walked out, hair an absolute mess and those hickeys so prominent against your skin.

You tried to keep your hair over your shoulders to cover them but it was absolutely no use once you stepped in the ring. The only good thing about that match was the fact that you were gonna win, and you wished you could see Tyler’s face when you do, but that was the last thing you should’ve been thinking about.

He kept his fist over his mouth to hide the smirk since there were a few others in the room with him. But he couldn’t help it. He absolutely loved the fact that you’d just gotten fucked by him and had to drag yourself out to the ring immediately after. Rocking Daniels shit was the cherry on top of the worlds tastiest cake to him, even though he was sure he’d be hearing about it later.

You felt an ache on your inner thigh when your opponent kicked you. You knew exactly why you were so sore but again, you weren’t supposed to be thinking about that. You didn’t have time to shower, obviously, so you still felt Tyler dripping out of you, and all it was doing was making you want to call this whole match off and go find him immediately.

In other words, you were fucked. Figuratively and literally.

As soon as you got the three count and secured your first win in a while, Tyler got up from the couch and headed right out the door. You took a little bit of time flaunting around the ring but not as long as you usually would have. You wanted to get off the camera as soon as you could.

You sped up the ramp and through the tunnel, rounding the corner to find Tyler leaning against the wall with a bit of a softer smile on his face.

“Congrats, it’s about time you beat someone’s ass.” He pushed himself off the wall and you shot him a daring glare as you kept walking. “How was that match? Looked like you were struggling a little bit.” He chuckled, and you felt that wetness seeping into the fabric of your panties once again. Just his voice, for some strange reason, did unspeakable things to you.

But you managed to force past that as you kept heading down the hall, aiming to go straight to the showers, alone this time.

“You know you really hurt Daniel?” You snapped when you came up to the doors. Tyler’s brows knitted together and a look of sudden annoyance played on his face like you hadn’t seen before. “And I think you should apologize.”

He sarcastically laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s never gonna happen, yn. He disrespected you, remember? Why are you even defending him right now? He called you a whore.”

“He was hurt cause he still loves me, and I don’t blame him for that.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched his eyes narrow.

“So that makes it okay that he disrespected you like that? Just because the dude is still in love with you? Nah, I don’t play that shit. He’s lucky I didn’t break his neck, honestly. He should be thanking you for that.”

You stared back into his fired up eyes, unable to speak when he took a step closer, like always. That affect he had on you was probably eternal at this point. In this lifetime and the next, you’d most likely always be putty in his hands.

“Are you still in love with him or something?” He asked, sliding his tongue over his plump lips as he eyed you with skepticism evident.

“No.” You honestly admitted, holding his stare.

“Then why are you so upset with me? I defended you, cause you clearly weren’t gonna do it yourself.”

You clamped your mouth shut when you realized that he wasn’t lying. He did defend your honor but you didn’t expect it.

He watched your face soften. Those piercing eyes rounded out and your hands fell to your sides as you stared up at him.

“Exactly.” He eyed you over when you said nothing more. You sighed and looked over at the door, remembering the shower you desperately needed. Tyler took a step back, as if he could read you mind. He turned the knob and pushed the door opened for you, but he didn’t step in after.

Part of you wanted him to but, even though he fucked you senseless less than two hours prior, you were too hesitant to ask. He nodded before he closed the door behind him, leaving you standing there with a million thoughts rushing through your head.

You took a glance at yourself in the mirror and noticed just how dark those patches had gotten on your neck. Your finger roamed over them and you winced at the sting, but it was nothing but a reminder of those moments with him.

You couldn’t even shower without having the images of the two of you attack your mind. It’s all you were thinking about since the first time he touched you and you couldn’t even fight it.

You stood there as the water cascaded down over your sore body, thinking solely about his hands gripping your hips. Flashing back to the moment like it happened just a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but remember all the sweet nothings he whispered when he was trying to get that high to sky lengths.

All the times he called you baby, for some reason just won’t stop replaying in your mind and the weird sensations that it brings just keep getting stronger the harder you try to fight against it.

You knew it from the very first time you felt something ignite for him and only him. If he ever got his hands on you, you’d be addicted, and like addiction tends to creep up on people, snatching them when they least expect it, so did he to you.

You’ve never craved another man’s touch quite like this. There was no justification for it. You just simply wanted him every time you remembered his lips on yours. It was nearly impossible to fight, which is why you ended up in the locker rooms earlier but, at what cost? The man you spent so much time trying to hate is quickly becoming your greatest weakness.

You sighed as you stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around you, tucking it tight so it stayed clasped. The locker room was just one over so you weren’t worried about it anyway, that was until you stepped out and heard Tyler’s voice a little ways down the hall.

Turning around, you spotted him leaned up against the wall talking to some girl you didn’t even recognize. His eyes found yours but only for a second before he gave her his attention again, a wide and toothy grin on his face.

You suddenly felt rage like you hadn’t before boiling over and did your best not to show it, but when you watched her fingers trace the cross on his neck, you had to get away immediately.

You closed the door behind you and threw your clothes down on the bench. You had a million and one thoughts running through your mind and they all consisted of him. He saw you watching him and didn’t make an effort to even try to hide that cocky ass grin on his face.

You made quick work at throwing some sweats and a t-shirt on but as soon as you stepped back out in the hallway, they were both gone. The first thing you thought was him taking her to the shower room, or the locker room or wherever else he thought about.

It was enough to make your whole entire body buzz with anger and the best thing you could do was get out of that arena before you made an absolute fool of yourself.

And as much as you knew you had no solid ground to stand on, because you and Tyler were absolutely nothing but two people who randomly fucked a time or two, you still found yourself unable to control the questions that kept buzzing around your brain that he absolutely needed to be asked so, at midnight, after your intrusive thoughts got the best of you, you knocked on his hotel door.

He opened it with hair wildly disheveled, no shirt and sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his hips. He looked a little taken back to see you standing there but he knew exactly why you had those rosy red cheeks and fiery eyes to match.

“Am I interrupting anything?” You quipped, and watched as he shook his head and opened his door wider. To you, he looked like he just got hands ran all through his hair and that thought alone was making your stomach coil.

You slowly stepped in and eyed him before you glanced around his room, looking for the signs that someone else was in here but, no woman’s clothes or pieces of jewelry were anywhere to be found.

You heard the door softly shut and turned to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest as he walked over to you, holding that smirk you wished you really had enough hatred to slap right off of his face.

“What’s got you all fired up?” He asks, knowing good and well what it was but he really just wanted to hear you say it. Then maybe he would admit that he had that all planned out the entire time.

“I’m not.” You blurt, glaring at him. “I just wanted to-“

“Wanted to what? See if I was fucking her?” He stepped closer, tilting his head like he always does when he tries to read right through you, which was becoming way easier now that you finally let your guard down.

“Who was she?” You retaliate, watching his lips tip upwards once more.

“A friend.” He chuckles before he brushes past you, making his way back over to his bed.

“A friend?” You repeated. “Didn’t look like she was a friend.”

“Well, she is.” He shrugged as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “No reason for you to be jealous.” He smirked.

“I’m not jealous.” You rapidly spat back. “But you just fucked me not even two hours before you were basically eye fucking her!”

He shook his head as he ran his hand through his hair. “You sound pretty fucking jealous to me.”

You felt your cheeks burning when he looked back up at you with those amused eyes. He loved everything about this back and forth shit and you knew it, but you just couldn’t fight against it. Secretly, you loved it too. You just hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Don’t you know by now that if you want to fuck me, all you really have to do is say that?” He chuckles lowly, holding his hands out on each side, which felt like an invitation you were dying to accept but, you stayed with feet practically nailed to the floor.

“Haven’t I shown you I’m a pretty willing participant?” He smirked. Having way too much fun with your anger at the moment.

“Willing participant?” You repeated those words. “More like the one who begs for it.”

That’s when you watched the corner of his mouth slide up with a gleam in his dark eyes you recognized all too well.

“No baby, you’re the one who begs. Remember?” He stands up, but you’re so caught off guard by the use of the pet name he only ever called you in the act. Before you realize anything else, he’s standing right in front of you with not even a centimeter of space between.

“Or do you need a reminder?” His hot breath fans over your lips before you feel his fingers hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, and just like before, you’re fucked all over again.

His lips land on yours and you feel him pulling you towards the bed, but you’re so lost in the moment you don’t even realize it until your back lands on the mattress and your legs involuntarily spread wide, allowing space for him between.

Your fingers tangle up in his hair as his tongue rhythmically dances over yours and in the midst of it all you can feel his hardening bulge beneath the thin fabric of his sweats pressing hard against your inner thigh.

Once again you were in full desperation, suddenly so needy as you whimpered against his lips and he loved it. He leaned back on his knees and took a second to admire his view of you, laying underneath him with pretty puffy lips and purple marks all over your neck. He could’ve taken a picture and put it on a billboard proudly.

He slid your sweats down to your ankles and slung them across the floor before he made his way back up your body, needy and desperate himself but he was doing a good job at hiding it.

He slid some hair out your face and made sure you were looking dead in his eyes when he whispered, “If we do this again, you’re mine. No more games. I’m done playing. You win.”

You were suddenly taken back at the words that seemed more like a verbal commitment but you couldn’t even take the time to think about them when his lips latched to yours once again, but so much slower this time. So much more passion emitted that it was rather undeniable.

Your head was nearly spinning when he pulled back and waited for your eyes to flutter open.

“All mine.” He breathlessly muttered, rubbing his thumb over your lip. “This.” He said, before he roamed that hand down to your aching core, just barely grazing your clit with the pad of his fingertip. “This.” He added, then he brought that hand right back up, snaking it around your neck, making your eyes roll back instantly. “This, too. You’re all mine.”

Even if you thought about objecting, you wouldn’t have been able to. You felt him applying that slight pressure and it had your cheeks flaming immensely. His lips collided with yours once again as strained moans got lost somewhere within his mouth, before he let go of your neck and grabbed himself instead, gliding his tip over your drenched cunt before he pushed in without a single warning.

“Oh my God” you gasped out, your head lifting from the pillows. Eyes caught his as he pushed himself all the way in and held himself there, allowing you a minute to adjust like he typically did before he slowly pulled back out of you halfway, and pushed in once more.

Your head fell back against the pillows again and his fell to your shoulder, low grunts and heavy sighs being muffled by your skin as he rocked into you, but not nearly as rough and rigid as the times before. His thrusts were smooth and languid, easy for you to meet them halfway as you arched your hips off the mattress, just to feel him hit as deep as he could possibly go.

“Feel so fucking incredible baby, every single time my dick gets buried in you, I swear it just keeps getting better and better.” He heavily whispered against you before he picked his head back up, resting his forehead to yours.

That gold cross bounced off of your lips with each deep push and pull of his hips, and when he leaned up on his elbows, you hooked your finger through the chain to pull him back down to your lips again.

He hummed against you, his mouth opening slightly when he felt you clenching around him.

“Fuck you’re killing me, baby. You know that? Gonna be the fucking death of me.”

You let a high moan rip through your lips when he sped up, pulling back and crashing into you with a strength that had you clawing scars all down his back. You felt his muscles flex beneath your fingertips and a low groan fly into the air when he felt those nails breaking skin.

“You like that, don’t you baby? You like when I’m rough with you. You want to be fucked like a little slut? Well, I got you.”

You were flipped over within a split second, your face pressed against the pillows as he lifted your hips and slammed into you again. Your high pitched moans were muffled by the pillow, but he wanted to hear them better.

“Nah, pick your head up and let me hear how good it feels.” His hand tangled up in your disheveled locks as he snatches your head back, fucking into you so hard you couldn’t keep from letting his name bounce off the walls.

“That’s right baby, fuck these people. Make them hear you scream my name all fucking night long.”

He was no good for you at that point. All the coaxing only made you louder. You couldn’t help it even if you tried, but you gave up that fight when he repeatedly pounded your sweet spot, making your sweet juices drip down onto the bedsheets.

“Such a good girl, always so wet and tight and ready for me to fuck you.” He groaned above you, before he folded over your body and let go of your hips. You couldn’t help but to collapse against the bed and didn’t mind it. His hand snaked beneath your stomach and made its way down to your clit, feeling your walls bear down the second he started rubbing circles over it.

“Don’t- don’t stop” was all you could manage through the broken moans and whimpers. He obliged to your plea, continuing to rock into you while his finger rubbed rotations against your clit, but his other hand found it’s way back up to your neck, wrapping around it as he turned your head to face him.

“Look me in the eyes when you come on my dick, understand me?” He demanded, and all you could do was nod as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He noticed, but this time, he didn’t say anything. His lips locked with yours and his teeth sank down into your bottom lip, pulling it back before he let it go.

You felt his finger speed up, along with those thrusts and the quick arising warmth swirling through your lower stomach each time he hit that one spot only he was ever able to. He felt you clench down, felt your body stiffen beneath him and he didn’t miss a beat.

“So fucking gorgeous” he muttered under his breath as his hips kept rocking against you. He buried himself deep, making sure you felt him filling you all the way, and judging by the sounds flying through your mouth, he succeeded at that.

“Like it deep, don’t you?” He mused before he pushed himself even deeper, earning a stinging sensation at first, before it quickly morphed into something extraordinary.

You were too fucked out, as usual and he could tell. He applied a little pressure to the sides of your neck all the while his fingers spun rapid circles over your clit and it was then that he felt your entire body quake, your walls once again sucking him right back in and holding him there with a vice grip that made his elbows tremble against the mattress.

“Look at me” he demanded, even though your eyes were fluttering, you managed. His lips were parted and puffier than usual, hair stuck to his skin and wildly spread across his forehead. He only gave you a second to glance before he couldn’t help himself and had to taste you again.

His lips collided with yours as that high powered through you, taking you and throwing your limp body into a complete bottomless pit of euphoria. The low moans that got lost from his mouth to yours were making your head spin wildly out of control but his tongue lingering around yours was somehow keeping you locked in the moment, hypersensitive to every little move he made.

You felt a rush of warmth spill out of you just as he pulled his hips back. There were drenched spots underneath you on the sheets and when he leaned back up on his knees he looked down, pretty proudly at that.

You felt his finger collecting some of the salty liquids, yours mixed with his and spread it all along your folds with a smirk plastered on his face, especially when your body jerked from the featherlight touch.

“Don’t think I’ve seen that from you before.” He said as he wraps his hands underneath your thighs and turns you over.

“What?” You asked, glancing down between your legs to see the massive wet spot taking up almost half of that side of the bed.

You glanced back at him and that proud look on his face and couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at that arrogance you were sure was permanently a part of him.

He made his way back up, placing a kiss to your forehead tenderly, which caught you off guard but you didn’t object to it.

“From now on, I’m gonna be aiming to make you come that hard.” He whispers before he rolls onto his side and turns you to face him. You felt his arm lazily drape over your hip and his fingers absentmindedly traced little circles on your lower back.

“That’s if this ever happens again” your smart mouth was brought right back and he could’ve expected that much, but again, it just doesn’t phase him. He leaned in and placed another gentle kiss to your lips, basically telling you to stop talking in the nicest way possible before he pulled you into his chest.

When you let your arm wrap around him, he let an easy smile spread across his lips, but you were tracing the new tattoo on his chest, so you didn’t see it.

“If I wake up alone in the morning, I’m coming to fuck you all over again, so you might as well stay the night with me.” He barely muttered as his face melted into the pillow.

“Is that your way of saying you want morning sex, too?” You teased, but felt those strong arms tightening around you.

“That’s my way of saying I want morning sex every morning when I wake up next to you from now on.”

#hook aew #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #hook #send hook #aew dynamite

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for telling on a classmate??

(tw for homophobia and antisemitism)

🪻

(emoji so i can recognise it)

this is like really long, im sorry, i tend to ramble.

also my native language isnt english so i translated a few words i didnt really know with google translate which may be unreliable (talking specifically abt supervising teacher here, but i explained what it means just in case)

also i use all pronouns, listed my gender here as 'idk', so putting this here to clear it up

ok so this might sound really dumb but listen, in my (15idk) class there is this one guy, lets call him wit (15m) and ever since we started high school he's been really troublesome for other people. for further context hes very strongly catholic and frequently talks about his political opinions.

many students of our scholl agree that this would not be much of a problem if he kept at least some respect for others while doing it. wit is infamous in our school for making extremely homophobic and antisemetic comments, ranging from usage of derogatory language and insulting a guy in our class because he's partially ethnically jewish, to stating that homosexuality and transgenderism is mental illness, to saying gays should get shot, making up crazy statistics about pedophilia in the lgbtq+ community and taking a photo of himself doing the nazi salute while holding the flag of the third reich (we live in a country very heavily affected by the holocaust to this day. jesus christ dude). (note that our school has a quite large number of queer people so making these comments in such a public space is already a bit iffy imo.) he also states his opinions as fact, and when somebody tries to debate him on these things (he claims he's up for it) he keeps interrupting them, and in some cases calls them an idiot.

wit actually was in another class before, he switched to ours because his classmates and supervising teacher (translation might be wrong, went off google translate - i mean the teacher held responsible for what the kids in their class do) couldn't stand him (there are rumors that he tried to sue her actually?). our supervising teacher (29m) is well aware of this.

today, he was grading us on our behavior (idk if american schools do this?? it has to end up on our report cards at the end of the year here, we're graded once per semester) and the topic of wit's behavior came up. the day before this, he had gotten into an argument with this one girl, let's call her gabby (15f), because she had 'taken his seat' in our physics class (we don't have assigned seats, and the teacher invited a few kids from another class to write some missed assignments, so there were more students than chairs). wit started off calm, when gabby told him she was there first, he got mad and started shouting at her, and when she didn't want to give up her seat for him (she was calm about this!), he started to attempt to physically get her off the seat by pulling or pushing her off. as far as i know, three people in our class recorded this exchange.

wit got graded 5/6 for his behavior (very good) after our teacher vowed to lower it because of the amount of complaints he was getting about his behavior. this was before our teacher found out about yesterday's situation. today we had two classes with him and he was going to dedicate both to talking about our behavior grades, so we told him about how wit acted yesterday. our teacher was reasonably a little pissed at wit for getting physical, as well as shouting at a classmate. wit tried to defens himself saying he was calmly telling 'this unruly, undeserving of such respect girl' to piss off, but as i said, several people in our class had video evidence of what he did.

the conversation quickly shifted from just the fight in physics to wit's respect for others (or, more appropriately, the lackthereof). this is when his rampant homophobia was brought up. several people in our class voiced their concerns about how most of us feel really uncomfortable when this dude's out there wishing death on all queers. our teacher was really mad at him for continuing making his homophobia this public when he was already repeatedly told that he makes people uncomfortable with it. we also brought up him calling people who dare not have the same beliefs as him idiots and left-wingers (as an?? insult??).

wit's behavior grade was changed to 4/6 (good)

after class, our class president (15f) and i went up to our teacher to show him screenshots of wit being transphobic, not to humiliate him further, but to provide proof of the claims about him still openly hating the lgbtq.

wit seemed to notice this because a few hours after school he texted me to talk about this situation. it started with him being frustrated about getting a 4, then saying he believes he should get at LEAST a 5 (note: he cited 'i respect others' as a reason, lol) and then it very quickly spiraled into him shit-talking gabby and our class president (he called gabby 'wild' and our prez toxic). i told him that he should be happy hes only being graded based on two months (our teacher said he's only taking the time wit was in our class into account, imo this isnt fair at all but ok), when his behavior was somehow better here than previously and that the girls deserved their grades (gabby got a 5, prez got a 6, both are very helpful and in my experience very kind people) and that the reason his grade was lowered was because of the lack of respect for others he was demonstrating right in that moment. he then said i was fake and called me a kabel (polish slang for snitch basically)

i talked to my parents about today, and they said wit is a bad person, but is in the right in my conversation with him. i disagree tbh but im also not entirely convinced im right either because i might have taken it a bit far, but idk, aita??

also im so so so sorry this ended up being ao long, i didn't realize how chaotic this story is until i wrote it all down lol

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Lost in Your Echos -Prologue teaser

❥ ┊𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; Dawnbreaker!Zayne × Hunter!Reader

❥ ┊𝐀𝐔; This one is gonna get weird folks. Canon Divergent as fuck, but will use a lot of the canon lore.

❥ ┊𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; NSFW, reader is afab using she/her pronouns, reader's skin/hair/body will not be described (this will be Black reader friendly!!) violence, mentions of torture but no descriptions, beloved character deaths (I'm serious I'm gonna kill 'em), slow burn, obsessive behavior, Dawnbreaker is kind of a creep but he's trying he just doesn't know how, trauma, ptsd, nightmares/night terrors, poorly managed grief and depression, sexual situations (more specific tags for that when we get to those chapters later).

❥ ┊𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; In the far future, Dawnbreaker fights a lone man war against an ever growing hoard of human born wanderer abominations, spawned from an unchecked protocore sickness run rampant. 2 weeks after the death of Georgie, Zayne has an all too vivid dream of the Doctor that abruptly brings an end to his dreams of the Doctor and you.

Several months later, Detective Ivan reaches out to him again, informing him that a woman has come forward requesting help with information about the abominations. Knowing he can't help her, he sends Dawnbreaker her info and suggests Zayne meet up with her. What he finds shatters the delicate reality he has built for himself, but for the first time in his bleak life he can feel the warmth of the sun.

❥ ┊𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; Lost in Your Echos

"It's you.” Truly the last place he expected to see the haunted expression of his own warped visage was in his once quiet office at Akso hospital, but Zayne already knew this was no ordinary meeting. The mid-morning sun shone through the open windows, washing everything in a beautiful golden glow, but there was no warmth to be found here.

How long had it been since he'd sat behind this desk? 6, 7, 8 weeks? Even now there was a force in his mind that wanted to drift to the many patients he'd left in the care of Dr. Greyson, and their varied outcomes, but the man that stood before him like a specter was the only thing left to take care of now. He wore his face, but so discordant were the expression and mannerisms that they made every part of his being feel like he was staring down the executioner.

This was his grim reaper.

He'd experienced his presence a hundred times in his dreams, yet nothing in those half lucid moments compared to this. 

“You've come for me then, finally.” He watched the unchanging face of his twisted reflection for any sign of recognition or acceptance. Instead, the apparition finally spoke, his expression as frigid as his tone. 

“You called me here.” His voice was quieter than the Doctor's, with the slight rasp of disuse, but otherwise, he thinks they sound too similar for his liking. Zayne watches as the figure cut in black shifts, movements awkward like he takes up space in a room he is not part of. He is a person all too real in a dream or simulation, and it reminds Zayne that his own body is slipping from his grasp. 

“I didn't call anyone here. I'm not even sure where ‘here’ is. If you're not the grim reaper then who exactly are you, and where are we?” Zayne doesn't miss the slightest crinkle of the other's eyes at the use of his macabre ‘nickname’, but all the same he doesn't object.

With a small effort he stands, the unease in his gut growing and gnawing as he realizes now they are exactly the same height as well. It didn't bother him before how perfectly stacked all the logs were, or how healthy all the plants looked. How all the pillows on the couch were fully fluffed and every photo on his desk was fingerprint free. However, the longer he stood here in the eerie silence with his doppelganger, the more his surroundings began to feel suffocating and uncanny. He knows his heart should be racing with the discomfort he's experiencing yet it felt alarmingly calm. His fingers itched to call the familiar ice for his own protection only to find the terrifyingly numb sensation of nothingness. 

He really was dead. But what about-

“I was dreaming.” The other starts softly, temporarily snapping Zayne from his spiral. “I saw… us in an explosion and we called out for help. I …. reached out.” The caution and cadence in his voice made him sound confused, and Zayne follows his flickering gaze downward as they both look to his trembling hands that now tightly grip the photo that sat on his desk of the two of you in your finest evening wear at his last award ceremony dinner. Your smile, so radiant and warm, was forever seared into his memory. This seemed so long ago now. Had the last few months truly aged you both that much?

Wait, when did he even grab this?

No, that didn't matter. He didn't have time to waste now. If he could reach out to him then maybe-

“Can you reach out to her? Is she still alive?” Zayne no longer cared to police his tone or expression, and the reaction of his double was proof enough as he watched his eyes blow wide for just a second. He could feel the frantic tone cracking in his throat like a fading fire but pushed forward despite the strain, slamming his free hand on the desk between them, alarmed by the lack of pain or feedback from it. “Like you are right now with me? She was with me in the-”

“I saw her, yes.” There is a consuming reverence on his tongue when he speaks of you, and if Zayne had any other option, he'd have gladly taken it over him at this moment. The way his eyes soften and soothe at the mere mention of you is enough to trip more than one warning flag, but he lacks the time you desperately need. He knows he's not the first man to die for you, and while he doesn't understand what this body double even is, he's a wise enough man to know his own heart. His own devotion to you, left unchecked, could border on obsession. 

He has no choices left. There is no more time, and his only parting gift to you is hopefully giving you the time necessary to make your plan work. So many had put their faith in you, himself included, and he would be a fool to look this 11th hour gift in the eye and deny its aid. 

Xavier, Jeremiah, Caleb, Thomas, Yvonne… so many more names of the lost had faded from his memory and the thought made him sick, the ghost of the taste of bile on the back of his tongue. How many had he forgotten already? 

“Do it. Please.” Voice raw, he begged. For you, he begged the grim reaper. 

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #love and deep space #lads #l&ds #dawnbreaker zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne #strap in folks this one is gonna be a doozy #its gonna hurt like a bitch but im gonna give dawnbreaker the happy ending he deserves #but like maybe at the expense of everyone else oops? #kay writes

[huevobuevo]

Whoops

hello generation loss enjoyers. it has been several months since the release of ranboos project, how have yall been? im going to be insane.

Many folks have known me as the lminal space connosieur, dead malls and fucked up houses in particular being my strongsuit for both their sex appeal and the amount of symbolism they can all hold.

Watching Gen Loss with my friends through a hostage situation was a wonderful experience! upon the reveal of the Showfall Media offices being inside a rented out mall, there was a split second where I was a bit unamused at the lack of effort put into integrating the mall's architecture into the studio's office. There were only a few empty stores being used with at the bare minimum some chairs and desks, half the mall was still closed, the mini maps stands were still up, and the food court's usage as the streamers hub was very just. like. thats a whole ass food court. without the people walking around the only way to actually know what the hel this was being used for was the giant white banner that just said showfall media like a fraternity's house claiming its territory.

But then, as the episode 2 closed out, almost instantly it hit me why. why the mall was still a mall, why there was little to no integration for the set- it was on purpose. it was supposed to just be a studio crammed inside a mall. a dead mall, to be precise.

first lets get into the anatomy of what makes a dead mall dead. Around the 1980's a rise in popularity of the commercial supermalls began to spread, the american consumerist dream was rampant with a greater demand of fast fashion, merchandise, and all kinds of strange trinkets for the average american to waste their money on. It was capitalism's wettest dream, but as the years went on there came a steady decline in popularity. Sometimes the competing businesses ended up putting each other out of stock, maybe the trends began dying off, and in certain areas consistent crime rates drove away costumers.

Then in the mid 2000's the stock market crash ended up pushing several people into poverty, the lower class unable to afford the luxury goods offered at shopping centers. Then online shopping took society in a deathgrip, further pushing away the desire for in-public purchasing. Brands took notice and began selling online-exclusive products. In the late 2010's the sightings of several "dead malls" were on an alltime high, some being left to rot while others were demolished all together in favor of empty concrete spaces.

Corporate response to this was one of two things; continously invest in the "Anchor Stores" (big chain stores like Macys or Forever 21 that brought in more customers, usually stationed at the ends of the mall). Meanwhile the smaller businesses inside would be shut down one by one to save costs, until eventually the anchor stores themselves would be forced to leave. Sometimes the Anchor Stores would leave beforehand, not wanting to waste money investing in a deadend location. the decline is faster, the mall rots quicker. The company sells the lot to the biggest buyer and destroys what little remains.

Then there are times where the mall itself is sold off to another bigger company, in hopes of more funds to rejuvenate the center. Majority of the time the mall will enter a large reconstruction designed to look more appealing, mor modern. In actually, the personality of the malls architecture is stripped like the skin of prey. The colors and vibrant shapes of the late 1900’s, the waterfalls with rocky beds and marbled beige tiles, all replaced in favor of sharp black on white edge and stainless steel fencing. The occasional shrub here or there, maintained by automation. Lights too bright, all glimmer, all space. Sometimes it works, sometimes the mall is reborn as the pinnacle of luxury again! Sometimes it rots in shiny chrome, a corpse dragged along in the hopes of attracting attention. All it does is stink and bloat, a miserable display.

I hope you begin to catch what im saying.

In Generation Loss, the Showfield Social Experiments are commentary on streamer culture and the damaging relationship between a content creator & their platform. Visualized by Ranboo being pushed into dangerous scenarios for the sake of entertainment, their disposable friends forced into the flat archetypes the fandoms have labeled them as.

They were all vibrant young folks once, bright with personality and that raw humanity filled with flaws and voice cracks. Shitty microphones and inconsistent uploads, some were barely finishing high school. Then they became big, almost too big. They were characters now, and just like Ranboo’s teammates the perception of them as humans were dumbed down to memorable trademarks. Streamers and Content Creators alike had to be marketable now, and when the time comes where they lost their popularity sometimes they sign off to groups and organizations to help boost them up again. They are stripped of their rawness again. Theres a reason their artforms are called “content”.

So it makes sense that Showfall Media, the personification of the content creators downfall, would do the same to a Mall. The corpse of the center is repurposed loosely to fit the studios purpose. It is empty, it is hollow, it is dead. Low costs, big risks- just like Gen Loss Ranboo.

basically

Content Creators are Dead Malls.

#this is gonna be the only gen loss post i make in a While since im doin cowboy au stuff #but erm <33 #i love dead malls. somuch #\sorry ranboo for looking too deep into thisi AURAGH #generation loss #ranboo #genloss ranboo #gl ranboo #gen loss #dead malls

[dykefaggotry]

Antisemitism is so rampant in leftist spaces it’s disgusting. My ex friend would repeatedly say “black people are the real israelites” and referred to her classmate as “jew boy”, but claimed she wasn’t antisemitic at all. even after our jewish friend told her multiple times that she was being offensive!!

the way I simply

it's sooooo painfully obvious that no one takes antisemitism seriously at all. like I'll still never get over a pretty popular blog on here saying "yeah antisemitism sucks but bc it's not a systemic problem it's just a personal issue" LIKE....... and it's just not questioned!! and so many popular leftist blogs on here have reblogged that dumbass post about the idea of judaism as an ethnoreligion being fucking nazi race ideology. it's such a shit show.

like my gf one time was having a good conversation w a guy at a bar abt leftist things and then suddenly he starts talking abt how minorities tend to be poor "except the jews" and my gf was just like "great tell that to my single jewish mother raising me on fucking nothing" (& they can correct me if I mistold any of that) & they just didn't talk for the rest of the night

it's just so painfully rampant and even ppl that will acknowledge many other forms of oppression don't take it seriously in the slightest. even if they get called out on it the reaction isn't "I'm not antisemitic" it's "okay and so what if I am? that's not the point right now" like????

idk the left has such a weird culture around antisemitism & it's of a Slightly different flavor from the right so they think it's fine. like yeah okay you're not wearing a white hood or a swastika. you're still being shitty.

#antisemitism tw

[wellntruly]

Some M*A*S*H laugh track thoughts (laugh talk), just because I'm having them.

The News, as it were, is that I’ve managed to push past my initial bounce right off no-laugh-track M*A*S*H, and have been catching some episodes without it as I was confirming my B-sides.

It is still true that I’ll get distracted in spots noticing that a scene is paced to something no longer there. This could, however, be an occupational hazard. It was once my actual job to pay attention to the rhythm of an edit of a TV episode, noting that we needed a bit longer of a beat here, or needed to tighten that cut there. But noticing this sort of thing is now mostly my curse—the rest of you don’t have to live like this.

It is also still true that particularly in those earlier days, where the laughter is almost always just ebbing and flowing around any non-operating scenes, to me it really functions much more like a score than anything. It was just part of the audio texture of the show, something I was just resting on, or kind of wrapped up in like a thick cozy blanket. That first episode I tried to watch without it, I felt like that blanket had been pulled off, leaving me feeling a little stark and cold.

However! It is also true, that some scenes? Do play quite different without a laugh track, play better. And in many different moods! I’ve seen characters reveal themselves in certain moments to have been funnier, needier, cuter, sadder. There was a scene of Radar selling Hawkeye shoes that had hardly registered with me with the laugh track underscoring it, that without it was suddenly so sweet and pathetic and lovable. Also, sometimes, scenes play worse! There it’s almost always that the characters feel more callous (that coldness, again). You also, of course, entirely lose the impact of the moments where the laughter goes away. Coldness in a different way (cold big good).

Toggling between the two sometimes reveals things about the actors’ performances as well, which I find really interesting. I only saw a couple from his era laugh-free, but I’m pretty sure Harry Morgan is funnier when the timing is all up to him. Loretta Swit is a fucking professional and built in so much space in the early days of her just making expressions and humph!-ing that she knew would play great with the track, suddenly making her deliveries feel oddly slow without it. Alan Alda, burlesque baby, is playing Hawkeye Pierce as someone who himself is also always waiting for the laugh, so his character feels entirely consistent across any form, which is fascinating and also makes me helplessly shove my hands into my hair. Silence around William Christopher’s Father Mulcahy feels awkward but it works, just a little differently; laughter version of the show is much fonder toward their chaplain.

Like how I feel about M*A*S*H in other ways, it drives me to distraction a little that I can’t have everything I like at once (later seasons Margaret, formally experimental episodes, Charles; early seasons rampant bisexuality, sharper anti-military sentiment, Henry). Sure I’m talking pie-in-the-sky, ‘give me this scene with the laugh track and then the next one without’ kind of dreams, but honestly mostly I mean on a technical level. The difference in picture quality between the restored & remastered edition on Hulu and the original broadcast version on the DVDs (as far as I can tell, the only source for the laugh-free cuts), can itself be almost laughable. Eye clarity in particular is really sapped by that low resolution, occasionally giving the Hulu version somewhat of an "unlocking the secret shrimp emotions" effect.

An interesting thing where at times the show can feel more real WITH the laughter in the background, because you can actually see into the faces of the people stuck in this tragicomic purgatory.

Then on the OTHER HAND, there’s really getting to hear the whoooole quality of Alan Alda’s voice in something like, say, this scene. (And oh my God.)

The nearest thing to like, a unified theory I’m probably gonna end up with, is that I wonder if M*A*S*H with laugh track and M*A*S*H without might be like film adaptations of books. This sets laugh-free M*A*S*H as "books," surely deeply pleasing the laugh-free M*A*S*H people who are going, correct, because the book is always better. Meanwhile the movie-first people are also nodding vigorously, with their belief that if you watch the movie first then read the novel after, you can love the movie itself, and then just get MORE and different material with the book later, picking and choosing from each to create your own personal whole of the art piece. And based on just, the very consistent anecdotes I've seen on this issue, I'm getting the feeling that similarly, starting with the laugh track version might be the surest way to love ALL the versions of M*A*S*H, every concurrently running story that this show was telling. Which, with a series this....surprisingly meta-textual, I sure want that.

#just spent this week hiding out in my bedroom with all my plants and furniture while contractors bang around downstairs #Considering #M*A*S*H #M*A*S*H hours

[proshippy-fox]

hey uhm question what’s a radqueer? /gen

i see this term tossed around a lot and a lot of the sources i look at have very different meanings and interpretations and i just wanna know which one is correct /nm

I'd say that, like the term proshipper, it's best to ask someone who uses the term or specifically in this case, used to use the term. Not sure I'm the best to ask here because I am not radqueer nor have I used to term to describe myself, but I'll share my thoughts anyways.

I'm anti-radqueer because the radqueer community, from what I've seen (mainly from radqueers who post in the proship tag at times) support things like being "transrace," "transdisabled," and "transnazi," as well as some people who used to be part of the radqueer community saying that there are lots of pro-contact harmful paraphilias in there. I think it is a harmful community not only because of that, but because they try to co-opt queer terms (trans) in ridiculous, nonsensical, and downright harmful ways. You can't "transition" to be black, or asian, or white, or any race or ethnicity. You can admire other cultures, and want to learn more about them, but that is not something you can "transition" into being a part of. You don't "transition" into becoming disabled, you simply become disabled due to certain factors. You don't "transition" into hating an entire race of people- You are just a hateful person.

For that last one, having intrusive thoughts about potentially being racist, sexist, a pedophile, anything harmful at all- Those are intrusive thoughts. That is not a trans identity. None of these radqueer labels mentioned have anything to do with gender, and trans is a term used for gender. I will not doubt that there are radqueer identities that do deal with gender, but as the radqueer identity accepts people who use the term trans for harmful and disrespectful purposes, I am very anti-radqueer.

There is also a difference between rad-inclusive and radqueer- I've seen people who are rad-inclusive say that they are anti radqueer. Rad-inclusive, from what I've seen, means they accept transgender and queer identities that seemingly contradict each other, such as m-spec lesbians. I personally have no problem with queer people using labels like that as they please- gender and sexuality is very fluid, and being queer hurts no one.

I suppose the main problem I hold with radqueers is just how disrespectful and harmful many of the terms they use are, and the way they try to claim these terms should be associated with gender and sexuality when they are not.

Again, it's probably best you ask people who have first-hand experience with radqueer spaces. I am lucky enough to not have any personal experience with any of them, considering how some have said grooming and encouragement of nonconsensual paraphilias are rampant.

I'll put the proship tags in, so maybe someone else can help answer your questions more accurately. I myself am also a bit curious, and would love to see what other people think^^

#proship #anti anti #anti harassment #proshippers please interact #profic #ask tag

[melvisik]

OFMD - TREASURE, LOVE, AND EDWARD

Edited - Possible trigger warnings at the bottom under the gif of Edward and MerStede by @soapbubbles511. Thanks to @agneswarda for pointing this out in the reblogging tags.

Totally joining in with this discussion about the deleted scenes (even though I'm extremely late to the party)...

Source crediting set decorator Lindsey Cantrell's insta at linds_cantrell

Absolutely, Ed is a beautiful hot mess splayed out on the ground pouring whateveritis into his gaping mouth, and we were sorely robbed of some awesome shots (no doubt due to budget/time cuts). Also, the text here somewhat vindicates the fandom's in-depth observations as to the incredible weight of Ed's unhappiness at this point.

So here it comes, because reiterating fandom analyses and interpretations is fun...

One of the key elements we see in season one is Ed's desire for the fine things he's been denied in much of his youth, things his own mother told him they could never have. Mother Teach frames it as it being a matter of providence or even nature, because that isn't who they are rather than accrediting it to unfair circumstances they were born into.

Who can blame her really? The poor woman was a victim of the unfair social class/caste system of the 18th century and she had an abusive, degrading dick for a partner.

Anyway, that fine piece of silk she gives her son is probably one of the biggest symbolic tools in TV history - Ed's fondness for fine things, his wish to be one of 'those kinds of people' (despite the odds) thinking it will make it happy, his connection to affection, his first bond with Stede Bonnet both in camaraderie...

...and in love.

And then, of course we see this...

Well then.

Long before the unhinged binge-raiding, Ed had already accrued more riches than some uppity officer can shake a fucking stick at, but he had yet to find that elusive something he'd been pursuing since childhood.

Source

Cue Stede Bonnet, a constituent of that aristocratic world Ed's been dreaming about and a sweet representation of finery and refinery.

...sorta. Really, they just pass the time so well...

Extremely well, like 'welcome to the family'...

But at the beginning of season two, what Ed came to treasure most is gone, and he can't replace it no matter how many valuables he collects. There's a void in his heart he was on a rampant quest to fill, and just when he thought he'd found someone that can occupy some of that space, he's abandoned by him.

So, afterwards (and after some other stuff) Ed jumps from raid to raid as Blackbeard 2.0, raising hellions and sending them out to play, pillage, and plunder.

But he does this without any sense of care or pleasure. Another day in the life of a pirate. Make the plan, execute the plan, make the plan, execute the plan, and again, and again, and again... so fucking boring.

He's amassed so much stuff that the crew literally has to dump it overboard, and only more is coming in because he's determined never to divert from this strict regiment, whether it's because he intends to incite Ned Lowe into coming after him or to have it serve as a distraction from the unyielding pain.

Either way, he shuts down in a sort of resignation and fully conforms to the role expected of him, because they think it's just who he is...

In the interim, during those all too frequent moments of inaction, he self-medicates with drugs and alcohol and wallows about in misery, sometimes in Stede's old cabin surrounded by riches that are ultimately worthless to his broken heart.

It's a fairly common trope - a gut-wrenching display of unhappiness whilst surround by troves of treasure.

But we see here that Ed takes it a step farther, reverting to an almost childlike state and enacting his fantasy with dolls.

And with those cut scenes, we could very well have seen how he behaves similarly with the treasure, perhaps by playing dress up with the jewelry or admiring these objects that should, by all rights, represent the vast wealth he'd once hoped to achieve.

He's surrounded by the fine things he coveted in his childhood, but now he finds none of it remotely satisfying. He's had a taste of true joy, and all this stuff just listlessly lying around pales in comparison.

Is he having fun? Nope, because this was fun...

Is he basking in the splendor? Nope, because this was splendor...

Does he recognize the value of the treasure at his fingertips? Nope, because you know where this is going...

In fact the only stolen piece that means anything to him is fiscally worthless.

That figurine is a cheap representation of something intrinsically valuable. Just like the jewels, the furs, the gold, and every lifeless item in that room, it essentially means nothing save for the memory Ed attaches to it.

Ed's life has become that dull drag of monotony just like before. On the outset, that life was probably fun for a while and perhaps did initially satisfy his thirst for wealth, acceptance and attention, but over time he basically became married to his work, 'working for Blackbeard,' an unhappy husband to piracy.

This discomfort in a married state only started to alleviate when that bizarre, cheerful lunatic showed Ed that he can absolutely escape his situation and doesn't have to let his past prevent him from moving forward.

Ed was fully willing to give it all up. Stede served as a perfect conduit for this, but falling in love with him altered Ed's aim - he no longer necessarily desires the lavish lifestyle and/or identity of Stede Bonnet, but rather something loads better...

Then we have the sharp turn-around, and Ed is in an even worse state than where he started off.

He's been there, done that, and even trying to reach for an extreme version of Blackbeard just isn't quite cutting it.

Death seems to be the only unexplored avenue left to him. It might not make him happy, but then he was never meant for happiness, was he? He's just not that kind of person. But it can, at least, just make everything stop...

And these scenes could have shown so much of that - the impotence of all the wealth available for Ed's leisure and how spending the day with someone is the better treasure. This kind of treasure later only serves as a sign of Ed's guilt at the atrocities he committed, and it's only useful in helping others throw a big bash or giving other less fortunate kiddies a better chance than he had.

It really wasn't worth all that much to Ed in the end. Just as it wasn't worth all that much to Stede Bonnet either.

The man who sees value in what's thought to be worthless, who discerns fortune in a chest of blue dirt and exquisite detailing in a pile of junk, finds his ultimate treasure.

P.S. The treasure in that scene also possibly serves as reflection of all the 'finery' attributes Ed sees in Stede, the beauty and status he'd once craved presented up in a warm jaunty melody that somehow matches Ed beat for weird beat.

P.P.S. And for the fantastical lovers - Stede's the handsome prince (mer-prince in fact) that helps this beautiful princess escape from the dragon's hoard.

Warning: This post contains implications of suicide, abuse, drug use, and alcohol abuse. These subjects are delicate and complex and I am no expert, so if any information/opinions in this post are evaluated to be erroneous, seem careless, or cause too much controversy, this post will be deleted and apologies given.

Constructive criticism is welcome.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #self indulgent #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #blackbeard

[the-lonelybarricade]

Hi LB, I woke up this morning and read another one of your recs which I fell in love with and I wanted to express my gratitude for all you do.

So here it is. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom, not just the beautiful and inspired work you create, but how you never miss an opportunity to uplift other artists as well, how you seem to take note and remember work from even the smallest artists, how everytime someone compliments you you never fail to redirect part of this love to shine it onto someone else and their work.

Becoming a good writer is something that can be honed but the kind of goodness you have it cannot be taught or faked and I may not know you personally but I'm absolutely certain you are a gift to everyone lucky enough to be in your life as well. Thank you for spreading some of your light to this corner of the Internet and thanks you for all the wonderful writing you have shared and will share in the future.

Enjoy your bank holiday and Easter weekend.

Goodness, Anon 🥺

I've reread this so many times and I've been at such a complete loss of how to properly articulate what this meant to me. I came into this fandom very soon after ACoSF came out, when the ship war was really starting to take off and the Feyre/Nesta stans were vicously at each others throats. It felt impossible to be in any space that wasn't rampant with hate for some other group of fans. And very early on I decided I wanted to be intentional about fostering a positive space in the fandom.

I've by no means been perfect, but I've made a very deliberate effort to keep my blog void of anti content for any ship or character. And as my account has grown (which has been a very humbling and mind boggling experience), I've tried to use it to spread positivity in a fandom that feels so intent to tear at each other's throats. I wanted to contribute to a community that focused on uplifting each other.

This might be the first time I've been transparent about that goal, I guess because I'm concious of patting myself too heavily on the back and/or subjecting myself to scrutiny. But it was really lovely to see this message, because it's gratifying to feel like the concious effort I'm making is recognized. It's also been an extremely rewarding way to make fandom friends!

I'll also say that I'm definitely not the only blog who's taken this approach. So many of my good friends also curate uplifting spaces, and I've been so fortunate to fall into a community of writers and artists that support and hype up one another 🥰

Then there's the wonderful blogs like @acourtofkindness and @elainsflowergrams that go out of their way to spread kindess and positivy - thank you both for all you do 💕

And thank you, anon. This was such a lovely message. It made me feel seen in my silly, little efforts to make this fandom a brighter place. And I hope you know that it's also the work of people like you, who take the time to send such kind messages to others, that contribute to making this little corner of the internet feel like a happier, more positive place. I hope you're having a wonderful bank holiday/Easter Weekend as well!

#lovely people being lovely