#lets just fuck all of the stability and sense of control you have in your life

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Gale x Tav Kissing Headcanons

A/N: The patch 6 announcement has me back on my bullshit. I know I write a lot for Astarion, but this stupid wizard has my heart too. Here’s to hoping we get to make out with him soon.

Gale’s kisses come in stages

Obviously for a long time he’s very concerned about the orb and getting too excited, as it were

Even after the orb is stabilized and you have your first night together, some part of him thinks he’s getting away with something

The kisses shared between you are fleeting, but tender

While he adores your lips, he’ll just as happily kiss your hand or the top of your head, really any place he can reach

He wants to stay, even if it’s just the barest kiss you can sense it pains him to pull away, but you have other things to do

If he pushes his luck, maybe you’ll be the one to pull away first; he knows he can be a bit…much

The longer your together, the less hesitant he is

All he really needs is for you to pull him back into a deeper kiss a few times in a row for him to get the message

Once he has your permission, it’s nearly impossible for him to keep his hands off you

He still feels like he’s getting away with something, that at any second you’re going to realize he’s not enough or maybe the orb comes back or honestly just the daily dangers you have on your journey are going to tear you away, but instead of bracing for rejection, it just makes him hungry

He starts kissing you like it’s the end of the fucking world, but, in his defense, it kind of is

Even soft kisses come with hands cupping your face as he sharply inhaled your scent

He also can’t help but steal a few more, as if making up for lost time

Kisses after a fight are positively indecent

We already know he gets horny, but knowing he can touch you after makes him practically vibrate

He has enough self control to wait until your properly healed and back at camp, but not enough to wait until after you bath before he’s pulling your some place private and kissing the air right out of your lungs

That’s not to say every kiss leads to something more, only that he’s less reserved in putting all his love and adoration into every touch

He worships you, let him worship you

The feeling can be addicting, but it’s also something you might need to work on with him

Everybody wants to be loved, but being truly in love you need to be a partner, not a goddess on a pedestal

Your mortal and so is he, you don’t need worship, you just need him

And when he finally gets that into his thick skull you find him kissing you in all new ways

Without the threat of the Elder Brain or the crown, Gale finally feels like he has time

He still can’t keep his hands off you, but there is a warm security in it

He’s not afraid your going to pull away

He can kiss you slowly, savor the taste as he smiles against your lips

He can tease you and know you’ll just laugh and pull him back again

His finds he loves kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck as he simply holds you from behind for no other reason than because he can

Even when he finds himself distracted by grading papers or some new discovery, he’ll reach out for your hand, bringing it to his lips to make sure you know he knows your there

He starts to plan his mornings allowing for at least an extra fifteen minutes to get out of bed because how can he be expected to get anything done before he’s properly kissed you awake

Maybe things will teeter off later down the line, his colleagues have teased him more than once about the honeymoon phase

But even years down the line, he can’t see himself slowing down

Honestly the fact that it’s expected for people to be less in love with their spouse after their married is something he can’t find himself ever understanding (skill issue)

He doesn’t kiss you like it’s the end of the world, he kisses you like the world is going to keep on spinning, that time is going to keep moving forward and the best way he knows how to spend it is with you

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale #bg3 gale #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale headcanons

[noodle-bin]

Baby Blue

Leon Kennedy x reader

Summary: Leon comes home to his princess, but she needs to be punished. Good princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, so daddy must fuck her ass instead.

Tags: DDLG, smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, reader is a little, funishment not punishment, anal, squirting, pussy neglect, true princesses name their plushies, I’m sorry this is feral

Word Count: 2.6k

Ao3 cross post

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Leon’s drive home was filled with overwhelming thoughts of you. He was able to get out of the office early, and all he could think about was rushing home to you. To his princess. He found a sense of stability in being your daddy and being able to protect you. When he couldn’t manage to protect everyone, he knew he would always protect you. It helped ground him and give him a very controlled responsibility, and you loved it just the same. You loved letting yourself be nurtured. With such glossy, round eyes as yours he really couldn’t let anybody else have you. You were gorgeous and you could only be his.

When he got home, Leon found you in the living room curled on the couch. He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him when you rushed forward to meet him. Leon could feel the swell of your breasts and your hands squished against his chest as he looked down at you. There were your big round puppy eyes again, looking up at him, begging. Begging for what? Noticing the gentle way you squished your thighs together gave him a pretty good answer as to what you were begging so quietly for.

“I’m home princess,” Leon pressed several kisses all over your face, stopping at your forehead. “Is there something my princess needs?”

“Daddy’s attention! I missed you!”

You were a needy girl, needless to say. You tried to feign innocence when you clearly knew how to push Leon. Pressing your tits against him when you grabbed his arm, or “readjusting” constantly when sitting on his lap. From choosing a revealing top or a fitted dress, the constant teasing never ended. Even through the frills and bows adorning you, you always looked at him the exact same way. With round puppy eyes begging to be taken. It’s the part you enjoyed the most, honestly. Feigning innocence just for Leon to corrupt you bit by bit. To take his princess and watch her tear-covered cheeks as she takes his cock into her throat. To teach her what it means to be pleasured. It’s not like you didn’t know, but you loved to play the part. It was natural. To be his little princess who couldn’t possibly be dirty enough to think about wanting sex.

Leon kissed your forehead again. “What did you do today, princess?”

You bit your lip, tasting the strawberry gloss you had applied earlier. “Mm, I got home from work and, and I took a nap with Capt’n.” Captain was the shark plushie that you adored. Captain could always protect you while Leon was gone. “I also colored for daddy.”

“Good girl, show me what you colored for daddy.” Leon watched as you grabbed the coloring pages you had left on the living room table. They were pages of Sanrio characters, specifically Cinnamoroll.

“Remember Cinnamoroll, daddy?” You began to chat away, talking about all sorts of fun facts of the dog.

“Yeah, princess?” Leon listened and refilled your sippy cup with apple juice.

The ddlg lifestyle was quickly adopted once the both of you had opened up about it. It was a bit obvious in hindsight through the nurturing role Leon chose to take, and how little you were sometimes. Frills and bows seemed to follow you everywhere, glitter pens were always around, and baby blue was your signature color. The lifestyle also caught up in small actions. Not only did Leon open the car door for you, but he also took the time to buckle you in. Feeling his large presence reach around you to buckle you in made your feel all sorts of safe. Kisses on the forehead were endless, tying your shoes was a given, and nicknames too. Pacifiers became the norm, and you used sippy cups instead of “grown” cups. The plushie population was duplicating in size and needed a net to be kept in the top corner of the room. Smaller snacks like animal crackers, cookies, or gummies were carried with you everywhere, and Leon loved to steal them from you too. You let yourself indulge in cute accessories day to day. Keychains, stickers, glitter pens, cute notebooks, hair bows, the list continued. But your favorite part of it all were Daddy’s rules. In a sheet on the fridge you had written them out with numerous glitter pens and highlighter colors.

୨୧ Bedtime of 11pm.

୨୧ No swearing as a little.

୨୧ Always obey daddy.

୨୧ Use your manners.

୨୧ Compliment yourself every morning.

“Princess it’s getting late, we’ve got to get you to bed,” Leon reminded you, handing you your apple juice. “We need to clean up your mess,” he gestured at the crayons and snacks around your coloring book on the table.

You pouted, grabbing the sippy cup Leon was handing to you. “Can’t we leave it to tomorrow, daddy?”

“No buts, princess. We can’t leave a mess,” Leon kissed your forehead again, patiently waiting to help you pick up your coloring materials.

You looked him in the eye, “No.”

“What was that?” Leon grabbed your chin. He didn’t like when his princess disobeyed, but he smiled knowing you would have to be punished.

“I said no.”

“My my, such big words for my little girl. That just won’t do. Disobeying daddy means punishment, princess. Pick up your mess. Now.” Leon said firmly.

Your plan failed. He didn’t bite the bait. Or so you thought. Leon was considering all the “punishments” he could do to you as he watched you from the doorway. This was a major offense; disobeying daddy without a good reason. It was a critical rule. He watched as you groaned and put your crayons and coloring book away into their designated spot. You grabbed Captain off of the couch and trailed behind Leon into the bedroom. He kept his hand on the small of your back as the both of you stepped in, the covers a little out of place from the nap you had taken earlier.

You chatted away as Leon chose the pajamas you would wear to bed, and helped take your makeup off.

“Your eyeliner is really good today, princess,” Leon noticed as he gently wiped it away.

You beamed under him, allowing him to wipe your face clean. He kept noticing the way you squirmed and squeezed your thighs together. You were more restless than normal.

“What do you need, princess?”

You stopped squirming and looked up at Leon. To be honest, you wanted to be fucked. But you didn’t want to be so blunt. You tried to give all the signals, truly! But he wasn’t getting it.

“You.” You looked at him with your doe eyes again. Can’t he take the hint?

“Princesses don’t get rewards for disobeying,” Leon chided, but his own body was fighting against him. The bulge in his pants was getting harder to hide, but he wasn’t to blame. You really were so soft under him, your body pliant to his tight grip. He wanted to kiss you and eat you whole, glitter and all. His hands trailed down to your ass and squeezed, but he noticed a certain bump. You had a butt plug in. My my, does this change plans.

“Bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked.” Leon continued, squeezing your ass again. You moaned quietly, clinging onto Leon’s chest as he played with you. The disappointment finally settled in. No matter how much you teased, he really wouldn’t fuck you tonight for disobeying.

“Since bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, I guess I’ll just have to fuck your ass.” Leon said before he pulled your shorts down to squeeze your ass again, his hands trailing to the butt plug you had in.

You gasped at the sudden motion, but smiled so big at him, “Really daddy?”

He kissed you softly as he played with your butt plug. Thrusting it in and out slowly, working you open with the lube you had previously. Your knees were going weak at the pleasure and you threw your hands around Leon’s neck to stay upright.

“I’ve got you princess,” Leon cooed as he felt your hole relax around the plug. He continued to work your open, feeling you thrust back onto the plug. You let your head fell into Leon’s shoulder, feeling him pepper kisses on your head as he stared at your round ass below.

“Such a pretty princess,” Leon cooed again. The strain of his bulge against his pants reminded him of his own need, but he had to make sure you were well prepared first.

A few kisses later and you were on the bed, pajamas thrown to the side. Leon’s body loomed over you, hand on your hip and the other supporting him on the bed. It didn’t take long for your kisses to turn more desperate and heated, your own teeth nibbling against Leon’s bottom lip.

“Daddy,” you whined, throwing your arms around his neck again.

Leon shushed you with more kisses and gently pushed your back onto the bed. Once he pulled away, he took the time to really take you in. Staring up at him with doe eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. You were the finest painting he has ever seen. Your hair was splayed out like a halo onto the bed, and he decided he needed to have you at that moment. He reached forward and flipped you over onto your stomach in one swift move. He made sure to grab Captain and gave him to you so you had something to hug while he fucked you.

Gentle fingers trailed down your spine, slowly taking in the curve of your ass. He spread your cheeks to see your little pink hole, stuffed with the plug and leaking with lube. He slowly pulled it out not without noticing the way your hole twitched at its absence. You turned your head to look back at him, his gaze fixed on your body. Leon’s hair covered half of his face, but the deep groan he let out was a clear sign on how he was feeling. He needed to stuff you. Needed to feel you take him whole and cry out for him. Daddy needed to take care of his princess.

“Are you ready for your punishment, princess?” Leon kneaded your ass all while his gaze remained transfixed on your hole. The urge was clawing him from the inside out. He was going to stuff you.

His briskly took his clothes off to finally have his leaking tip pushing at the tight bundle of nerves. You waited with baited breath as he slid his cock between your cheeks, teasing you.

“I want you inside, daddy,” you whispered, staring at him with your begging puppy eyes again. Fuck. You were going to be the death of him.

He finally pushed his cock inside, taking in the sensation as he filled you to the brim. Your breath quickened and you let out a deep moan at being stretched and full. You felt whole. Leon watched you stuff your face into Captain, watched the rise and fall of your back, as he stayed still inside. Rubbing small circles onto your back to help you relax. The urge to fuck into you like an animal was bubbling just under the surface, but he withheld. He had to take care of his princess. He needed you to feel comforted, safe, and pleased.

It didn’t take long before he finally felt your body relax around him and he began to slowly thrust. His pace was so slow, but it was so overwhelming you wanted to cry. You loved the way Daddy stretched you so full it was tipping on the edge of pain, and you wanted more. Leon moved so slowly and gently, working you open with his cock. He watched the way your body trembled under his touch, giving into his ministrations. You molded around his cock perfectly as if you were made for him. Made to be stuffed by daddy’s cock.

“Daddy,” you whined into Captain.

Fuck. Calling him daddy like that did something to him.

“I know baby, I know. Let daddy take care of you.” Leon continued his slow pace. Your mind went blank at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut from the pleasure. It was too much. If he fucked into you any faster you were sure you would break. But he didn’t, he held himself back knowing you were struggling to take him. So he was slow, grinding into your heat, feeling the lube leak onto your thighs.

A few thrusts later and the begging began. You wanted more —no, needed more. And Leon was right behind you. Baby. His baby. Stuff his little girl until she was full. He couldn’t stop looking at how your small hole took him so nicely, seeing you take the sheer size of him. He pressed his body lower and kissed the junction of your shoulder before he finally quickened his pace.

You cried from pleasure, clinging onto Captain as you felt Leon’s balls slap against your weeping cunt’s entrance. It felt neglected while your ass was being fucked into instead. It was so lewd listening to the wetness of your asshole being fucked, squelching around Leon’s cock.

You were doing such a good job, squeezing around Leon relentlessly and taking him whole. He groaned at the sensation, his orgasm creeping up behind him so soon. It was like his body was moving on its own by caving into the need of fucking into you; feeling your hot walls squeeze around him. It felt so good you couldn’t imagine stopping. His cock working you open, only for him to pull out and watch you gape around his absence.

“What a filthy little princess. Needing her ass fucked for being a bad, bad girl.” Leon watched with bated breath as your asshole twitched around nothing, his cock aching to stuff you again.

“Daddy,” you cried, aching to be filled again. You shook your ass, trying to get him to fuck into you again. “Please fuck me!”

You cried as he finally pushed his fat tip past the tight bundle of nerves, groaning as he bottomed out inside of you. He really was going to rearrange your guts.

It felt so shameful to like having your asshole fucked instead of your cunt. It was dripping wet, begging to be fucked into instead of your ass, but this was your punishment. Only good girls deserve to have their cunt used, and tonight he was going to breed your ass and watch the cum drip down onto your cunt instead.

So he continued to fuck into you, your cries only pushing him to fuck into you longer.

“Poor baby, you want your cunt fucked into don’t you?”

You cried into Captain, the pleasure overwhelming. Your body started to twitch and you felt the sudden wetness gush between your thighs. Leon held onto you as your squirt continued to gush with every thrust. Too much. Too much, you can’t. You lay beneath him, trembling and crying. Babbling about how you couldn’t stop, can’t imagine stopping, you needed more. Leon listened, feeling you squeeze around him was finally pushing him over the edge.

“I’m gonna stuff you so full baby, can you take it? Take daddy’s cock? Yeah?” Leon groaned as he gripped your hips, snapping his own flush against yours. Yeah, he was going to stuff you.

His own orgasm chased after yours, finally filling you. You trembled at the sensation of Leon finally pulling away only to watch his cum dribble down onto your weeping cunt. It didn’t take him long to notice the puddle of squirt you had made on the bed too. What a sight, his princess had taken him so well.

#leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy

[drewsbuzzcut]

Hotshot

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: smut!!!

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” you whisper as your lips ghost Mat’s. You’re hovering over his bare body, arms bracing yourself on the mattress.

“Oh yeah?” He cocks his head to the side, a cocky grin taking over his face. The high of his achievements fill his veins.

“Hell yeah,” he says, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip. You teasingly suck it into your mouth, maintaining strong eye contact with your man. You watch as he gulps and a light pink blush forms on his cheeks.

“An all-star and 400 career points. You’re amazing, baby. I love you,” you state, covering his mouth with yours.

“Couldn’t do it without you by my side,” he sighs, head falling back almost in the mountain of pillows behind him.

You let out a soft hum, smiling down at him before pecking his lips once more.

You press kisses into his jawline, traveling down to his neck and taking your time softly nipping at his sensitive skin. You crawl down his body just a couple inches, wanting to get your lips on his chest. Your brush over the various bruises and scars that litter his smooth skin. Flitting your eyes back up to his face, you flash him a daring and devious smile. You wrap your lips around one of his nipples, quickly sucking it into your mouth. You watch his chest puff up with a deep inhale of air. You follow your actions with a quick bite, laughing when you hear the wince he lets out. Now he knows what it feels like.

“Oops,” you jest, your hand pressing down on his pecs while you scoot down. You need some kind of stability as his success and your arousal clouds your senses. Along the way down his torso, you suck his taut skin into your mouth, leaving your favorite type of bruises in your wake.

You can practically feel him vibrate underneath you, the excitement and anticipation getting to him. Mat’s eyes are closed and you can see the way the muscles in his abdomen ripple with every graze of your fingers. You can feel your heat start to flutter, wanting to be full of him.

His finger under your chin gets you to lift your head up, his lustful gaze makes you drip. The teasing is getting to be too much, you just want him inside of you. His hard shaft on your tongue as you suck on him.

“I love you,” Mat whispers.

“I love you,” you lick at his happy trail, hiding your smirk when his hips jump up.

You finally settle in between his thighs, perched on your own legs as you wrap a hand around his hard cock. You jerk him off, practically getting off to the sweet sounds slipping from his lips. You closely watch his reactions, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and knuckles going white because of his tight clenching.

“If you don’t put me in your mouth, I think I- holy shit,” Mat lets out the most salacious, guttural moan whenever you flick your tongue at his tip. His tip that’s very red and leaking precum.

Your tongue trails along the vein on the backside, but a ravenous urge takes control of your body. You suck his tip into your mouth, sucking in rhythm to his moans.

“400 career points, I should give you 400 blow jobs,” you let him slip out with a wet pop.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” his voice is strained and so sexy.

“It’s what happens when you have a hotshot superstar of a boyfriend,” you lick at his tip again.

Your mouth sinks down on his shaft, a hand fisting whatever can’t fit. As you go up and down, your tongue drags over the thick ridges of his length. Soft moans vibrate in your mouth, making his body thrum even more. You love his taste and the way his body reacts to you. All his muscles tense up until he fights with himself to take deep breaths.

Letting his tip hit the back of your throat, tears blur your eyes and you become breathless. Mat finally opens his eyes- even though they keep rolling to the back of his head- to get a glimpse of spit dripping down your chin. You look delectable. The sounds are obscene, but the way you’re taking him so deep and the way your eyelashes flutter sends his orgasm soaring through his body.

Thick ropes of his cum paint your throat, feeling you with a warmth different from anything you’ve ever felt. His raspy moans make you want to ravage him. You don’t know how you got so lucky with him.

You let out soft moans, making Mat jerk since your mouth is still wrapped around his tip.

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re perfect. I can’t feel my body,” your boyfriend sighs, his chest heaving and covered in a red flush.

“1 down, 399 to go,” you tease, your fingertips teasing his thick thighs. You’re pleased by the way he twitches.

Your smirk doesn’t die, no, not when you notice his eyes on you. He watches you with a questionable gaze. Before he can voice his thoughts, you’re sucking him back into your mouth. Your mouth is going further down, trying to take him all. Your hand starts massaging at his balls, adding fuel to the fire between your bodies.

“Don’t stop,” he whimpers when you pull off, but you just take his balls in your mouth which makes him shut up just as quickly.

You fist his hard cock, pumping him until you feel his balls start to tighten. His body writhes underneath you as you place him back in your mouth. Perfect, red plump lips sucking his tip while your tongue drags back and forth.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, baby,” Mat groans, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him while he tries to keep his eyes open and look at you.

You take him deeper, a fierce lust awakening inside of you at the sheer amount of cum that’s spewed in your mouth. You sit back and watch the way his body turns flaccid. His muscles are relaxed and his length is coated in your spit and remnants of his release. Sweat lingers on each divot of his torso and neck. He looks angelic and you feel your wetness start to creep down your thighs just begging for his tongue to lap at.

You crawl back up his body, brushing your lips against every inch of exposed skin just to feel him quiver.

You straddle his hips and lean down so you’re both face to face. You cup one of his cheeks to hold eye contact, needing him to see you be his good girl. You stick out your tongue, his load resting on the wet muscle.

“Holy shit,” he grunts as he throws his head back.

You tilt his head back towards you, making him watch as you swallow his orgasm.

He wraps a tender hand around your throat, pushing his lips against yours and flipping you onto your back, so he can be the one on top.

“I love you,” you moan into his lips, his hands finally exploring your body.

“I love you, and I’m serious when I say I can’t do all this without you,” he declares, staring into your eyes and tracing his initials into the skin over your heart.

He’s so perfect you want to cry, but instead you let him unravel you. Just as you did him.

a/n: A little late, but I hope you enjoy!!! Also this is when they’re just dating!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal angst #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

[queeenarii]

Based on someone's post saying Johnny would love the lotus position.

Gender Neutral reader.

🔞 Minors Do Not Ingage

In this : Johnny, Kun, Hendery

CW: choking(John,reader reciving) Hendery(hen reciving). Squirting (reader) Oral (Hen reciving) Slight Orgasm control(John,Kun, reader reciving,) . Mentions of Edging (Kun, reader reciving)

If missed any lmk!!

Johnny

You sit on his lap, swiviling your hips, hands gripping the head board for stability. A moan escapes from your lips as his tip kisses the deepest parts of you.

"Johnny" you whine in desperation. It feels so good. But it's not enough

"Keep going for me beautiful" he croaks out. Eyes hooded and locked on yours. His large hand wraps around your neck, pressing slightly. The slight pressre provides a gentle jolt to your system causing you to throw your head and moan loudly, rutting your hips desperately to chase your high. He plunges deeper filling you up so nicely it drives you insane, and pushes you to take more of him.

"That's it my love" he encourages, voice low and hungry. Johnny rewards your enthusiasm by attaching his mouth to your left nipple, biting softly.

"Fuck" he pants "You look gorgeous on top of me" a new spark picks up from your right nipple as his hand elctrifieas every inch of your skin making you shiver.

There's a rustling, but you pay it no mind, your realise dwelling just under your surface. Buzzing fills the air but before you can react it's attack your clit/tip.

The moan that rips from you is vicious. Booming and drawn out. Once again it's too much. Your skin buzzes in tune with the toy, you pulse at random sucking Johnny in more.

"Look at me" he commands "you know I love to see you loose control" the vibrator diggs harsher onto you boarding on painful. He resumes the assault on your chest, enveloping the left nipple sucking harshly.

"Johnny..." you wail "...Johnny I can't" nails sink into his shoulders. You carve valleys in his dewy skin marking him as yours once again. He inhales at the sting, reveling in it. Reveling in you. His eyes dart down to where you two are joined.

"Fuck. for me pretty. All for me" he groans out bucking his hips up. He turns the settings on the vibrator up once more. It rattles against you in an intoxicating manner. You squeez Johnny harder, your high steadily approaching. His hand grips tighter as he mutters a simple command.

"Cum for me baby"

That's all it takes. Your resolve breaks. You let go.

"That's right make a mess for me" . Johnny ruts up into you helping you ride out your high and chasing his. You whine higher as your orgasm drags on, drenching Johnny's abs and the sheets.

You feel fuzzy like your floating. Your finger tips are on fire as you continue to clench around him.

His hands climb to your waist. Keeping you moving. When your senses are about you, you straighten up, hazy eyes staring into his. Soft lips meet yours as your body unknowningly follow your mind. Dying to have his lips on yours. The over stimulation settles in your bones, your nails dig harder into him.

He grunts "hold on for me baby" his lips barely leave yours "I'm close"

After what feels like an eternity, a hearty groan rings through the air. His teeth sink into your lips, his dull nails provide some solace. A teether for your floating being.

Kun

You don't know what track he was working on. Only that he said he needed you. He needed his muse.

The chair squeaks and the arms press into you, itchy and irritating. Kun leans back from him computer.

But then pleasure rushes your veins. Kuns lips, raw , pink and bruised from his anxious bitting, attaches to your neck drawing out a moan.

"Beautiful" he gasps "such beautiful moans. So Perfect, so pretty. " You hum in content at the praise wiggling in his hold.

Kun sits up. The clacking of keys driving you crazy. You can barely see his face from here, but the furl in his brow ignites your curiosity. Then you hear it. Your voice booms from his system.

He sits back before you can shrink yourself into him, embarrasment washing over you. The desperation in your voice feels raw and unfamiliar. But kun. Kuns hips jolt up at the sound. The sound of home, of peace, of pure beauty. The sound of his muse. Sounds that only he can compose, the master of your body, directing your pleasure like an orchestra.

You're barely moving, but his stare goes right to your core. Your hips rock upwards.

"Please do anything babe" you please growing more desperate by the second.

"Go on beautiful, play me" with his permission you crank your hips. The rough movements sharp and uncoordinated. Kuns skin rubs against yours, the chairs handle digs into your skin more rubbing it raw. You don't know how long you've been like this. An hour? Two?

How long has kun been playing with you? Commanding beats of silence after winding you up so close to your release.

The clacking is back. Kun starts tinkering away again. Frustratation beats in your chest at the sound.

"Kunnieeee, please" you whine, desperate.

" I was just ensuring that it saved" he claims. He leans back again. Taking in your form on top of him, groaning.

"Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me" he says gripping your thighs, squeezing the plump flesh there. His corse hands trail up your thighs and scrape against you teasingly.

"So good for me, my muse" Kuns heels dig into the floor allowing him to thrust hardly into you.

His hands return to your hips, forcing you down on him.

"So good, so pretty, all mine" he almost sings, lost in the vevelty wetness of your walls.

Releif, like finding water in miles of dessert, crashes into you when his hand presses against your clit/dick. It's almost too much, the 3 other orgasms that were stolen from you come back to life. Kun moves his hand quickly , your orgasm a crescendo, begging for a release.

"Come on pretty, you can cum" the sweet words leave his mouth alongside pants and groans. All of his efforts quicken determind to fulfill your desires.

You slump against Kuns body, spent, exausted. The arms of the chair chafing your skin as your legs morph into lead weights. Dealing the ground in search of stability.

Kun scoots closer to his desk, tinkering away again.

About 10 minutes pass before another word is said, kun occasionally searching your face, rubbing your back and legs.

"Are you able to get up?" he asks. You hum, brain still fuzzy and limbs less heavy.

"Maybe" you reply smushing your face further into kuns neck. Kuns chuckle fills you with warmth, pushing you back to look at your face. A chast kiss placed to your lips

"Let's get you home, my muse".

Hendery

"Awe man" Guangheng gasped in defeat, gesturing at the screen.

"This is what... " his voice trails off as you home in on how gorgeous the man in front of you is.

His goofy anger, his frustration makes him hotter. His legs speread, sweatpants leaving little to the imagination. His loose shirt hung off his shoulder exposing the canyons of his collarbones and the delicious skin that covers them.

You set your phone down and saunter over to the couch that he inhabits. Straddling his lap you cease his seemily endless chatter, collecting his lips with yours. The room falls silent , peacefulness returned , nothing but the hum of his game in the background.

"If you wanted me to be quiet all you had to do was ask(/j) " he smirks playfully pulling you closer into him. Of course Guangheng couldn't stay silent for long.

"I want you. Quiet or not" you whisper into his ear, grinding down on him teasingly.

"Well all you had to do was ask(/j/sx)" he repeats again. His hand finds your head, pulling you together for another heated kiss. Your cold hands thaw against the hot skin under his shirt, coaxing it off of him.

You push yourself off of him, sinking down to your knees. Hendery lifts his hips to free him self for you. You nuzzle up against his dick, slotting it into your mouth, hands on Hendery thighs.

"Fuck" he pants, his tip skims the back of your throat, your body both refusing and encouraging the action. The hair at his base tickles, your nose scrunching in response. You pull off of him and sneeze.

"Your so cute" his infectious laugh fills the room once more. the crack of a slap following as you retaliate against his bare thigh. Your mouth returns to him coaxing him to full hardness.

Once your satisfied. You return to his lap, hips hovering over his cock and chest over his face. He can't help but to press his face into it with a satisfied hum, kissing and sucking at the skin. Licking along your stretch marks.

"Love your tits" his muffled voice rings. The stretch of his cock is addicting in the way it splits you open. Slowly you fit him inside moaning as he reaches deep inside you.

You start moving your hips to your own rhythm, grabbing your boob in one hand, pinching your nipple. The sting is delicious and your other hand trails down to your core stimulating you there.

Guangheng cant do anything but sit and watch as you use him. His tries to keep his hips under control. Occasionally your thrusts meet the pleasure unexpected yet welcomed.

Your hands stop thier movement frantically searching for Henderys. Your hand lace together and you guide back to your chest. Hendey takes the bait. Fondling and gripping your titts. The sporatic tweaks of your nipples amplify the electricity surging through your body. The soft tugs are soothing but the harsh pinches are electrifying.

Your hand picks up speed as do your hips. Hendery digging his blunt nails into your chest as your velvety walls squeeze him.

"Shit" you gasp out. Your free hand climbes up Henderys torso. You stop at his nipples flicking them slightly. Hendery groans in response, his fluffy hair meeting the back of the sofa.

Your lips find his neck, his hand your core replacing yours. Your free hand reaches its final destination, curling around his thick neck the best your hands could.

Guangheng goes wild. His eyes roll back, his hand picks up speed on your clit and his other had trades your nipple for his own. His hips move on their own accord. Out of tune with your movememebts but delightful none the less.

Your bodies ruffling is all you hear, until his loud moan ripples through the air.

"Cum with me princess" he begs looking back at you, his eyes commanding the attention of your own.

His face soon contours in pleasure, his moan loud and deep. His hips piston into yours, driving you to your high.

Eventually the cord snaps. Your coming on his spent dick and the last drops of his release mix with yours. Your hips circle languishing in the pain that resides after your orgasm.

"I should loose more often huh" of course Guangheng couldn't stay silent for long.

#johnny smut #johnny x reader #johnny suh smut #nct 127 smut #kun smut #wayv smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 #qian kun smut #qian kun #guanheng smut #huang guanheng #kunhang #johnny suh #suh johnny #hendery fluff #hendery smut #hendery

[vergess]

It may be worse for others; but for him and you there is no dread. He is a noble fellow; and let me tell you from experience of men, that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and to that room—ay, and going a second time—is not one to be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his heart are all right; this I swear, before I have even seen him; so be at rest.

This is another one of those weird fucking instances where Bram Stoker got to the "right" answer in the wrongest conceivable way.

The argument Van Helsing is making here is that Jonathan is too strong of character to be permanently traumatized.

Obviously that is not how PTSD works,

I'm not going to pretend otherwise, so be at ease, my friend.

Generally speaking, when PTSD alters your brain structure, those changes are permanent, or long enough lasting that they may as well be. However, as anyone who has undergone half-decent post-traumatic care can attest, the debilitating symptoms of PTSD can ease over time as you learn how better to avoid, control, and recover from triggers, and develop better coping skills.

One common (though far from universal) predictor of how severely an event will traumatize a person is related to autonomy. The freedom and ability to make your own choices. The less autonomy a person is able to exercise during and after an traumatic event (or, the more frequently their autonomy is overridden by the situation), the worse the trauma symptoms tend to be.

In contrast, a lot of early therapeutic steps in treating PTSD involve reclaiming autonomy. This looks different for different people, because it obviously has to be individualized. But, common examples of exercising autonomy after trauma include re-framing the trauma through art (writing, reading, painting, whatever) so that the victim can, in a sense, control the "story" of the traumatic event even though they could not control the event itself.

By sheer coincidence, Jonathan Harker has lucked into probably the best case scenario.

His autonomy during his imprisonment was constantly degraded in tiny and massive ways, from controlled sleep schedule changes to forced denial of grooming habits straight up through undressing and implied penetration without consent.

However, he persisted in making decisions and carrying them out, even in spite of these controls. And eventually one of those decisions saved his life. This can easily be turned into a coping skill. He seems not to have lost the ability to make decisions for himself, thus "that step" (as it were) can be "skipped." And since the "steps" had not been invented yet, that definitely puts Jonathan in a better position for recovery.

But let's loop back around to therapies for trauma. Jonathan also happens to have taken a critical step in enforcing his autonomy post-event, too. By entrusting Mina with his journal, he made the conscious decision to let her be his guide. That too is a type of reclamation of autonomy over the story of his trauma. Yes, it means he isn't "making the decisions" himself, but that is a choice he made and is continuing to make each day, safe in the knowledge that if he changes his mind, Mina will still trust him.

That right there combines both autonomy and stability, which also enable one to learn PTSD skills more quickly.

Combine that with the fact that his wife is probably the most competent caretaker short of Mary Poppins and you have a basically ideal candidate for recovery.

Not in any way because of the weird shit V.H. was saying. Just as a coincidence.

And I think to some degree, Stoker likely recognized that pattern, because it plays out pretty regularly in real life. Just, he blamed it on "inherent moral fortitude" rather than "the external support offered to middle-to-upper-class men is so robust and the freedom of choice offered to them so complete that a man in Jonathan's position is simply much more likely to recover than any working class or otherwise marginalized person in this situation."

(Surprise! It was a post about classism all along!)

#automatic op tag #Bram Stoker and PTSD #Dracula #Dracula Daily

[darkdisrepair]

imogen meta: "you know you saved my life, right?"

tw//suicidal ideation

i'm so sorry for another meta but this line has been sitting in my brain for DAYS now, and there are a few things about it that are just so striking and so so sad-

for one- it puts imogen's farewell to bertrand into a much greater context.

"i'm glad the noises stopped for you. i'm glad you're at peace."

how long has imogen been longing for that kind of peace? she's been dealing with her powers for a decade, now, and it seems like only in her time with bell's hells has she really been able to get a stronger harness on it.

how many times, has death seemed like the only escape? ever present, ever alluring, in the corner of her mind?

it's a layer that i couldn't quite pick up before, because there was context for what she said, but there also wasn't- but now, with the idea that "i don't know how much longer i would've lasted" at the forefront-

she's had a decade of pain, and ostracization, and voices she can't control, with no sign of reprieve, no sense that it would ever end, and for a long period in her life- with no one to support her.

it's been so obvious for so long, given the angst of imogen's past, but i've struggled to connect the dots of just how deep imogen's pain runs. laura has been dropping clues- her farewell to bertrand, talking about how bad it had gotten during what the fuck is up with that, her mentions of her father- but this was the final piece, to make it all so painfully clear.

these past few years, they've been everything.

because what did imogen have before, really? what reasons did she have to keep going? an absent mother, a distant father, and chronic, overwhelming, agonizing pain and dreams haunting her in her sleep?

who did she have to turn to?

no one, and no glimmer of hope.

and so of course she would be drawn to laudna. her musical thoughts a balm to her aching mind, her cheerful attitude a bright spot in the darkness of imogen's life, her support almost foreign to a young girl who has never had the stability of someone to lean on-

and of course she would be devastated, when that's ripped away from her again, when laudna dies. that hope, that happiness- it's intoxicating, and it's horrible when it's gone, and she's taken back to that place of hurt and anger and fear.

and of course she would do everything to bring laudna back. but it also paints her ritual contribution into a greater context- of course she wouldn't make laudna come back, either. she won't make her return to her home full of trauma, she won't make laudna leave the sweet embrace of death.

because who is she, to deny someone that tranquility, that escape- when she's been tempted by it herself? if laudna needs to go, to not hurt anymore, she'll let her, because she loves laudna so much that she wouldn't ever take that away from her, if that was what she wanted.

(however, if laudna didn't come back, imogen would most certainly struggle. especially since i don't think she's fully processed otohan's attack yet, she's been so determined on giving laudna that choice that she herself has thought about).

but it's also so beautiful- how two lonely, shunned girls could find such light and hope in each other, and find ways to battle back against the world. and it shows such depth to their love, and their devotion to each other.

it's such an intimate thing, to tell someone that they saved your life. and though it wasn't a romantic confession, it's clear that they love each other very, very much.

#imogen temult #cr imogen #imogen meta #imogen temult meta #laudna #imodna #critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role meta #cr spoilers #campaign 3 #campaign 3 spoilers

[drabbles-mc]

Palliative Care

Horacio Carrillo & F!Reader

For @narcosfandomdiscord's Day of Horror: came back wrong

Warnings: 18+, major character death, angst, scars, blood, hospitals, all the sad angsty things idk

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Is this a day late? Yes. Is this one of the strangest, saddest fucked up little things I've ever written? Also yes. No clue where my brain went during this but here we are. I also think this might be my first ever fic with no dialogue. What a day!

Narcos Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @garbinge @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @narcolini @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

palliative care (noun): treatment that reduces the pain without curing its cause

You had been one of the lucky ones. You knew it, too. With the minor exception of a few scars running up the side of your body, you came home fully intact. And compared to what you’d seen happen to so many others, a few ridges along your ribcage and thigh were hardly worth mentioning. You were grateful, in your mind at least, even if you didn’t always feel it all the way down into your bones.

The only thing that had gotten you through the atrocities that you’d seen, the losses that you’d suffered despite how hard you tried to prevent them, was the knowledge that one day you would be back home again. You weren’t going to live out your days wading through the carnage of war. And even though there was no guarantee of it, you were determined not to become and be buried as part of the mess yourself.

Unfortunately, no amount of determination and wishful thinking prepared you for what it was going to feel like being home again. All the days and nights you spent begging for some stability, some peace, maybe even a little bit of quiet, and once you got it you had no idea what to do with any of it. So many months in the midst of war and once you were relieved of that sense of urgency, your body just couldn’t accept it. There was no turning the dial down. The last thing you wanted was more chaos, but it felt like you were constantly filled with adrenaline, ready to handle crises that weren’t even there.

After months of struggling with guilt and the dreaded thought that you were somehow subconsciously ungrateful for the opportunity to be home and safe again, when you were asked whether or not you wanted another change of venue, it felt like the only answer was yes. It’d be different than last time, they assured you, but it wasn’t going to be some quiet hospital in the middle of a relatively safe city like where you’d been in the interim. Part of you knew that this was the last thing you probably needed, but if peace and quiet wasn’t fixing you, maybe getting thrown back into it would do the trick. So, off to Medellín you went.

It was different, just like they’d said. But in a lot of ways it was also the same. The apparent spontaneity felt familiar. There wasn’t always an obvious rhyme or reason to when the violence would crescendo, although you supposed that was the point.

The thing that felt the most familiar, though, was the underlying feeling of futility that you felt. More officers, more soldiers brought to you begging you to not let them die. You’d spent enough time doing triage on battlegrounds to know relatively quickly if you were going to have any control over the outcome. You hated how often you didn’t. But you knew better than to let them know that. Calm, collected, reassurance even if it was a lie was the best you could do for any of them regardless of whether or not you could help them.

You didn’t like the feelings that came rushing back, the familiarity of it all, but even though that was the case, it was the first time in a long time that you didn’t feel like you were out of place.

You grew to recognize the people that filtered in and out of the hospital on a regular basis. Sometimes they saw you frequently because they themselves were getting injured. As much as you hated seeing people getting hurt over and over again, at least return trips meant that they kept surviving.

The other people you saw frequently were the officers in charge. Sometimes they were getting patched up by you, but other times they were coming through to check on their men. All you could hope was that you had good news for them. The same way you could tell within moments of seeing someone getting brought in whether you’d be able to help them or not, officers soon learned to be able to tell whether or not you had good news for them. They never held it against you when you didn’t—the families were another story.

You didn’t know much of anything about Colonel Carrillo outside of the things you’d heard about him in passing. Your conversations with him were always short, always professional. He never seemed to show any emotion to you one way or another regardless of whether you were delivering good or bad news to him. His expression almost always stayed the same. Neutral, hardened. No matter what you said, he’d always conclude the conversation with a tight nod, and an even tighter “Thank you” before going off to wherever he was needed next. He never seemed to want to listen to your apologies, whatever condolences you used to try and offer him. You stopped giving them after awhile—he seemed almost relieved about it.

His absence wouldn’t have been something that crossed your mind at all if you hadn’t heard other nurses and doctors talking about it in passing. People stopped showing up all the time—you considered yourself lucky if you weren’t there to find out the reason why. If you hadn’t heard the murmurs, you never would have given it another thought. You would have just hoped the best for him, while in the back of your mind knowing it most likely wasn’t the case.

But then you heard them talking about how he’d gotten sent away. You watched the news enough to put it all together. Part of you felt relieved knowing that at least he was one person who wasn’t being sent away from the war in a pine box. Another part of you felt the tightness reappearing in your chest the more you thought about it. You knew what it was like to try and leave the fight. You’d done it of your own volition and you still couldn’t handle being away from the thick of it all. You could scarcely imagine what being pulled away before he was ready would do to someone who seemed to operate the way that Carrillo did.

He faded from your mind eventually, the way that most people tended to when you saw so many of them each day. You had much more present issues to think about. All of Colombia did. The surges of violence had you feeling like your hands would never be clean of blood no matter how hard you scrubbed them, no matter how scalding the water was. More officers than you could try to count or keep track of, dead before they got to you if not shortly after. There was no way to keep up with it. It was a feeling of drowning that you had felt before, one you never wanted to feel again. This time around, though, you at least knew how to tread water—exhausting but vital work.

The days had blurred together so completely that you lost track. You didn’t know how long Carrillo was gone for, but suddenly he was back again. He strode across the hospital floors like he hadn’t even been gone a day. You saw the difference in him, though. Soldiers all reached a point where they get pushed so far that they will either break, or they’ll evolve. You’ve seen the fallout of both those options and it was impossible to say that either one was preferable. But you could tell by the set of Carrillo’s jaw that he wasn’t broken. He was different, but not broken.

He spoke to you like no time at all had passed, so you returned the favor. Right back into old scripts, old routines. He had more jagged edges now where you just had more exhaustion. Maybe when all of this was said and done you’d simply be too tired to do anything but adjust to a quiet, normal life. More wishful thinking.

You felt like you had needed to claw your way out of your shift. The hours just kept slipping on by. Just when it seemed like there was no end in sight, you were told to go home. You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately taking off to get your things so you could grab what precious few hours of sleep that you could manage.

Your car keys were in your hand when you heard the sudden rush of yelling voices and running feet. It would’ve been so easy to pretend you’d missed it all, to slip out the back and cross the lot to your car. Avoiding it was infinitely easier than confronting it and throwing yourself into the middle of it. You knew that. Easier would’ve been such a nice change of pace. And yet you threw your keys back into your locker and headed back out towards the floor.

There was chaos and cussing and men groaning in pain. Immediately it became a game of Tetris trying to organize and find room for everyone, both patients and hospital staff alike. Only so many of you could populate a floor and still do your jobs without tripping over each other.

You were trying to figure out where the hell you were supposed to start when you felt someone’s hand reach out and grab yours. You returned the gesture on instinct, never one to deprive a desperate soldier of a last hint of comfort. However, when you looked down at the person who had grabbed your hand, you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face. You’d never seen the Colonel being anything other than cold and composed—never the one on this end of the equation. You’d definitely never seen him reaching out to anyone for comfort.

When you took in the state of him, you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was just looking to you to confirm what he already knew. No amount of tactical gear in the world would’ve saved him from whatever he’d gone through before he got brought to you. Despite all the blood and the pale look of his face, the grip he had on your hand was surprisingly strong.

All of your usual words got caught in the back of your throat, things you would typically say to provide comfort in moments like this. But it was Colonel Carrillo, a man who wanted nothing to do with being placated. It was better that way for both of you now because the lump at the back of your throat made it impossible for you to say anything at all, comforting or not.

The tighter he tried to hold onto your hand, the more you tried to match his grip. You brought your hand that he wasn’t holding to rest on his shoulder, fingers wrapping over the curve of it. You tried not to pay attention to the blood that seeped from his uniform into the pads of your fingertips. Even as the seconds ticked by, and his grip started to weaken, and tears began to cut the edges of your eyes and his, you didn’t apologize. He didn’t ask for one either. He didn’t ask for anything. He just held your hand until he couldn’t anymore.

#narcoctober #horacio carrillo #day of horror #horacio carrillo x reader #x reader #x reader fic #horacio carrillo x you #narcos #narcos netflix #narcos netflix fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[wrathofrats]

Rat!!! 2 and 6 with MountRain please!!!

💙

Hi!! Thank you for the request friend!!

“let me hear you make that sound again.”

“shh. do you want them to hear? i bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Or like 500 words of the inappropriate use of confessional booths

The chapels confessional booths were small, thin, just barely separated from the rest of the room by a small curtain.

It was easy to ignore in the empty church, but the mere idea of doing something like this in such a public space was enough to make both ghouls heart race. The hard floor hurt rains knees where he sat in front of mountain, the room having just enough space for the both of them in this position.

“Just like that rainbow” mountain groaned out. He had a firm hand in rains hair, guiding his mouth onto his cock finally, the tight heat making him groan.

The situation made rain feel dirty, smell of dust and mildew from the old building invading his senses. He could even feel the curtain at the tips of his feet, a warning to how thin the separation was from the outside. He knew no one was there, but the possibility made him shiver. He looked up at mountain with doe eyes, tears already forming at his waterline from where mountain was easing into the back of his throat. Much too big for rain to take all at once.

A small whine escaped him as the earth ghoul tugged harshly on his hair.

“Fuck, let me hear you make that sound again.”

Rain whimpered around his cock at the words.

It was hard for mountain to not completely take control and fuck into his mouth. Force his cock down his throat and hear the moans echo in the small booth. The sight of rains plump lips stretched around him made his vision go fuzzy. Pretty mouth just drooling for his cock in it. Rain was absolutely obscene.

Laughter rang through the building.

A group of siblings had walked in, come to start on their duties. Something that had slipped the ghouls minds.

Rain looked up at mountain wide eyed at the interruption. Suddenly the thin curtain not being nearly enough for him. He felt exposed. It made a spark light in his gut.

Mountains movements suddenly got harsher, pulling rain down as far as he could go. The water ghoul gagged at the sudden movement, gripping mountains thighs for some sense of stability.

“shh. do you want them to hear? i bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?” Mountain bent over and whispered low into rains ear. The breath on his neck sent a shiver down his spine. Tears threatening to fall down his cheeks where his mouth was still stretched around mountain. His jaw and knees ached, pants felt too tight after being hard for so long and he felt exposed, dirty from being too turned on at the thought of there being people right outside the curtain.

He thought he was going to lose his mind.

“What do you think they’d think about this huh rainbow? Seeing such a serious ghoul like you sitting in a confessional booth of all places with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock? Too much of a whore too keep quiet? Oh wouldn’t that earn you a reputation”

Rain silently begged mountain to shut up. His cock twitched pathetically in his pants at the words. He was desperate to touch himself, to even just hump the leg of the confessional booth chair, just needed some relief.

Mountain couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Hand still tightly gripping his hair to use his mouth.

#this one could get .. so much worse #blasphemy my beloved #rains so into it trust me #also I love like slightly cruel mountain #let him have his fun #the band ghost #ghost #fanfic #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #wrath writes #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #nsft

[11queensupreme11]

Just wanted to ask (not sure if this got sent properly) but how could a loser!girlflop!MC NOT set back feminism?

Especially in the premise of your fic, where, if the tags are anything to go by, the female girlflop mc will lose everything she holds dear including her mental stability and bodily autonomy to five or more overpowered MEN (granted they are gods, but still men.)

The main difference between her and OG!Percy, who got both the love of his life Annabeth and a pretty set future at New Rome College? Their gender.

Just to explain, I for one fully, or at least mostly understood what I was getting into when I began reading Arsenic Blues. I saw the Dead Dove tag, and know how to differentiate reality from fiction.

However, there’s a possibility that some loud mouthed single braincelled men out there (or women with internalized misogyny) that considers a fem!Percy with practically the same strength, abilities, and personality, too pretentious or something, began reading your fic after seeing the tags to get off on fem!Percy being non con fucked out of her mind, traumatized, and knocked down a peg or billion, reduced to a mere common victim of the gods, because they don’t like the concept of a strong fem!Percy. Cuz surely a loser coded girl saving Olympus is just a fluke and she needs to be put in her place by capable men😒

(This possibility is of course not your problem nor responsibility of course, but it still does not negate the fact that it sets back feminism, as some may use it as “proof” that women are inferior idiots that can’t be trusted with power.

“Look at OG!Male!Percy! He saved Olympus and the world twice with little to no major losses, got the girl, and has a bright future! Look at fem!Percy. This idiot managed to destroy her world in her stupid attempt to do what only a male version of her could! I knew that first time was a fluke!)

An example of this would be Zenitsu from Demon Slayer, ( a loser coded cringey but cute badass, first character that came to mind), who has a pretty large fan base despite his loser personality. Make Zenitsu a girl, and all of a sudden everyone is bashing her for being the weak link, dead weight, pick me bitch.

Or using TBOSAS, some people truly blame Lucy Gray for leaving a clearly psychotic person and says that the Hunger Games were her fault for leaving. It’s her fault that Snow turned evil, blaming the woman for the man’s actions.

(you sent this twice, but the only difference is the last paragraph, so im just gonna answer to this one instead of repeating both, hope you don't mind!)

i truly don't believe my fanfic is gonna set feminism back because, as you said, it's not my responsibility if some incel or girl with internalized misogyny sees it and uses it as a "gotcha" that "hahaha girls are weak cuz look what happened to fem!percy".

no normal person is gonna read my fic (or any book like this in general tbh) and suddenly think "omg.... girls are inferior to men! this book told me so and i'm gonna take it as fact!". if someone does think that, then they already had issues to begin with way before they started reading. my fic did not give them those issues.

normal ppl don't let themselves get influenced by a book in such a way because they've already gotten a solidified sense of right or wrong and they should already know "yeah the stuff happening to this MC is bad and not at all their fault. anyway! time to enjoy more of their suffering 🤪".

UNLESS ofc, they don't have a fully solidified sense of right or wrong, meaning they're just way too young to be reading my fic (or books like it). even then, not really my fault because i already gave out the warnings and even ao3 gives an additional "are you sure you wanna read this?" page. people can't control who reads the fics/books, they can just give out warnings

also, about the og male!percy vs my fem!percy thing, i can easily just write fanfic about og!percy going through the same thing. then what are they gonna say? in fact, there already ARE some juicy dark fics about poor og percy, savior of olympus, being reduced to just another victim of the gods (there's actually a lot more dark fics of og!percy going through traumatizing shit then there are fem!percy ones hehe 😍)

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

[sableflynn]

haircut

In which Volkan cuts Felicia's bangs for her.

contents: references to/implications of noncon and torture

---

He was drunk when he cut her bangs.

No, not drunk, he would insist: Volkan would never concede to such a flawed human state as inebriation. He prized his control of himself and others above all else; he did not lose that control to alcohol the way weaker men did. Regardless, he was several drinks in when he pulled Felicia into his lap and brushed aside her curtain of bangs.

“These are getting too long,” he murmured as the bangs fell to cover her eyes.

He wasn’t wrong. They’d grown long enough to obstruct her vision, longer than she’d ever let them grow. And that was what she was steadfastly refusing to acknowledge: she couldn’t allow herself to recognize that she’d been here long enough for her bangs to grow out so much. Her hair was a physical marker of the passage of time, a reminder that this wasn’t normal and she wasn’t safe.

“Your hair still looks good, at least.” He demonstrated his point by winding his hand through the long tangles of her hair, punctuating with a jerk of her head that forced her to arch back and grab his arms to stabilize herself. “I like this. But these bangs,” and his free hand brushed them again in vain before they fell back into place. “They cover half your face. You shouldn’t be able to hide your eyes like that.”

Her body tensed in unconscious recognition of his fucked-up sort of foreplay, the precursor to pain or to sex, which was just another sort of pain. He hadn’t hurt her yet, really—he wasn’t even hard—but every molecule of her being was attuned to him, and the animal part of her picked up on the cues of his pleasure at her discomfort, and the logical part of her knew this sort of attention always ended the same way.

He shifted, forcing her to grip his biceps tighter, and pulled a knife from his pocket. The lamplight glinted off the sharp blade as he flicked it open.

She tried to ignore the way her stomach dropped at the sight of it. “You’re going to cut my hair with a knife like that?”

“I can’t exactly bring you to a salon, can I?”

She hated him in these moments in particular, when he teased and joked with her like they were a normal couple, almost pretending that he saw her as a person. She hated herself even more for playing along with it, for almost yearning for it, because she was desperate for anything but the monotony of torture and degredation.

“Hold still.” The command was redundant when his knife was inches from her face. She held her breath as he gathered her bangs in his hand and sliced with deceptive gentleness. His face was close enough that she could smell the lingering mix of liquor and cigar smoke that clung to him like a perfume, could feel his hot breath on her skin as he cut away her bangs as easily as he’d cut away her strength, her self-worth, her sense of being. The past few weeks fell away in tufts of soft red hair that littered the hardwood floor.

When he was done, he took her face in both hands, pulling her back to examine his work. “Much better,” he said, thumbs pressing into her cheekbones a touch harder than necessary. She didn’t need to see her reflection to know she looked like shit. She could feel it like the absence of a limb: the cool air hitting her face, bangs irritating the very top of her forehead, cut higher than she’d ever choose to have them. Her eyes uncovered, unprotected from the lingering veil of her hair. Nothing to shield her as Volkan studied her. Nowhere for her to hide as his manner took the turn she’d known was coming, and he pushed her onto her back on the couch and climbed on top of her, the knife in his hand once again.

#my writing #whump #my oc: felicia #my oc: volkan #ou content #trying a tiny scribble to remember how to write again #the thrilling story of felicia getting a haircut #next up: grocery shopping and mowing the lawn

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Better pinned post let's fuckin' go folks

NAME: Tapes, Spookyman, Spooky, Spooker, whatever the hell comes from my url tbh lol (feel free to call me Sinner or Slut that's an option too since i'm as horn knee as a fuckin' rabbit/j)

(There's also Six if you wanna refer to good ol' Murder Drones me)

This is an autistic, bisexual, essentially genderfluid freak of nature that has a questionable mental/emotional stability and mmaaaaaaayyyy orrrrr mmmaayy not have some other disorder apart from the mentioned autism, a possibility being bipolarity, Borderline and DID (that multiple personality thingy)

I work on things that are either extremely fucked up or just dumb stupid gang doing dumb stupid gags, but most of the time it's either dark humour or something straight out of like- EMESIS BLUE, to give you an idea of what i make

I am. Pretty dumb and immature and lack impulse control plussss... the energy to actually do shit about it lmao. Yes this means you'll see me swear a little more than others and casually say the worst of things pretty much hhhhh

Oh yeah i'm also pretty aggressive as in "HOW DARE THEE MAKE ME CRY LIKE THIS I'M GONNA EAT YOUR LIVER". That and the other sense that i'd rather not disclose for personal reasons

What am i into? Let's see here...

Murder Drones (V💕💕💕💕💕💕💕)

Pokemon, kinda

The Amazing Digital Circus, a bit

Internet horror (ya ever seen The Walten Files? Lacey Games? They're good examples)

Friday Night Funkin'. It's on the god damn title

Body horror

Boys and girls that can pretty much kill me. Horrible taste, i know

Ruler Of Everything, my life force

Etc etc etc i don't got the energy to list everything, so it's all off the top of my head

Dni? Nah i live by the "if we vibe, it's fine" rule. Just don't fuck around with my temper or pull a funny stunt and i ain't dropping you into a pit full of starving hyenas

If you're looking for the 100 reasons to live post, here's the link. Please stay with us, i'd hate to see you go like this. There's always another day.

Extras under the cut!

FUN SHIT TO DO BECAUSE I'M BORED

Art trades (OPEN)

Requests (CLOSED)

Idfk dude lmao no better ideas i'll add more as time goes by

#pinned post #about fuckin' time too #i'm not telling you everything in this post btw. if you wanna know dm me

[ivanzplaid]

Headcanons for Billy Lenz pretty please

BILLY i love billy lenz so much, he means the world to me🫶 and of course i can, there will be general hcs & romantic hcs because hes funky and i love it

requests are open, masterlist is up!

Billy Lenz Headcanons!

( Gn Reader )

Warnings: Mentions of murder, Mentions of animal murder, Over-Protective behavior

------------------------------------------------------------

General Hcs

some may jump to the conclusion that he smells like shit but i am a firm believer that he smells like dust, attic, and firewood, he may not seem clean but if he can live in an attic without being smelled he cannot be that bad right

imitates animals he sees; whatever it is, he loves to mimic it, whether he walks or jumps like it, or makes the same noises, he is in touch with his natural side

bites the wood in the attic, he loves to naw on things and use his teeth

loves to decorate his own little space, it may be small but he thinks its festive

i know he kills any company he has, but before he does he loves to have a fun time, whether that be ranting at 60 mph or playing with their hair, clothes, etc.

i hc hes queer, doesnt gaf who or what you are hes happy to have you with him

definitely a biter

he throws stuff everywhere, he is a very energetic guy

he does have witts to him, hes clever in his own sense

steals clothes from people but rarely changes his normal outfit, it brings him comfort and stability

does not like major change/doesnt take it well

although he loves animals please do not give him a pet, he means well but will kill it

considers the way he kills his victims 'art'

oddly strong for his build, you would not think he has muscle but he does

will scream-sing to music if you put it on

has an internal dilemma for his sense of self, but doesnt really acknowledge it

fucking hates cooking, he screams loudly if he gets burned or if he doesnt like what he made

afraid of large bodies of water

an absolute GOAT at hunting with his hands, he is the scavenger and the hunter of the year

his hair is oddly soft, but he the only time he washes it is if it gets tremendously dirt or if it gets wet by something else

prob was chased by animal control more than once

Dating Hcs

sticks to you like gum in hair, is really obsessed with you and be is not afraid to let you know

if he could hed spend his time on your back allday everyday

no sense of boundaries, you will have to teach him, he may be upset or not understand at first but he just wants you to be happy around him so he will catch on

terrible ass gift giver holy shit

dead animal?? no billy i dont want it, flowers or a card would be better thank you

he gets overjoyed when you show him love, he is the happiest man on earth

loves to hold your hand, grab your face, hold your hair, and if you do those to him hes gonna freak out in joy

does not sleep well, you will find him wandering around at night or cuddling close to you

you made him food? its gone within seconds

will eat it no matter how burnt or terrible it is, probably the best mea hes had in years

does not know how to comfort you well, but will console you silently if thats what youd like

makes you wear his clothes

lordy he will be so happy if you rant to him, fascinated by whatever you choose to speak about

is a very expressive person, jumps up and down when you come home from school or work

never a dull moment, talks to you like theres no tomorrow

loves to play and touch your hair, immersed in how it feels / what it looks like

sensitive man, you will comfort him a lot and he will latch onto you

loves to celebrate the holidays with you, if you celebrate something he didnt know of, count him in, hes now the life of the party for whatever you practice

if you read to him he does his best to focus on you

is more than happy to have you wash or style his hair, that is his thing🙏

is interested in all your hobbies and personal life, he is your #1 fan now

------------------------------------------------------------

i made these up throughout the day and i cannot get over him smh, hope you like it!! :)

requests are open, masterlist is up!

#billy lenz #black christmas #black christmas 1974 #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher #horror #billy #headcanons

[undercoverbisexualfrog]

Foot Clan incorrect quotes bc why not

All quotes from perchance.org Anton: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.  Chris: Anton: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Xever: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.

Baxter, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

Ivan: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things. Anton: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

In the chip aisle at Walmart, doing a late-night grocery run. Tiger Claw: Minding their own business, looking for tortilla chips. Tiger Claw: Finds tortilla chips. Anton, to Ivan: See, they know what they're here for. They know what they're doing. Be more like them. Make a decision, Ivan!

Anton: Life could be worse, Xever. Xever: Life could be a lot better too!

Baxter: Chris is so… Anton: Annoying? Xever: Cute? Ivan: Funny? Tiger Claw: Weird? Baxter: I don't know, maybe if y'all let me FINISH for ONCE IN MY LIFE, I'd tell you!

Chris: Xever, what do you have?  Xever: A KNIFE!  Chris: Okay, have fu-  Tiger Claw: NO!

Anton: Ivan is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do?  Xever: Punch them in the stomach. Then, when they double over in pain, kiss them.  Baxter: Tackle them!  Chris: Dump them.  Tiger Claw: Kick them in the shin!  Ivan: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

Anton: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Xever: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.  Chris: Wow. They sound stupid.  Xever: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.  Chris: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”  Xever: I guess you’re right. Hey Chris, I love you.  Chris: See! Just say that!  Xever: Holy fucking shit.  Chris: If that flies over their head then, sorry Xever, but they're too dumb for you.  Xever: Chris.

Tiger Claw: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.  Baxter: I almost died.  Tiger Claw: That... was my favorite memory.

Baxter: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.  Anton: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.  Ivan: A realist sees a freight train.  Xever: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

Anton: What are you in the mood for?  Ivan: World domination.  Anton: That's a bit ambitious.  Ivan: You are my world.  Anton: Aww...  Ivan: Anton: Ivan: Anton: OH.

Ivan: Uh, Xever? Tiger Claw is in the pool and I don't think they're waterproof.  Xever: What?  Chris: I think they meant, Tiger Claw is drowning.  Xever: WHAT?!  *Meanwhile*  Tiger Claw: *is drowning*  Baxter: OH MY GOD, TIGER CLAW! KEEP SWIMMING!  Tiger Claw: I can't swim, dumbass— *sinks*  Baxter: TIGER CLAW!

Ivan, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Anton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.  Baxter: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...  Tiger Claw: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.  Xever: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.  Chris: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.  Ivan: Mental stability, my old friend!  Anton: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little? 

Ivan: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Anton: Um…Neat. later Anton, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Xever. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Xever, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Anton. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Chris confessed their love for me? Anton: Didn't you thank them? Xever: closes the book and looks at the ceiling I fucking thanked them.

Tiger Claw: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?  Baxter: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.  Tiger Claw: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.  Baxter: But I heard a siren.  Ivan: That was Anton.  Anton: Sorry, I got nervous.

Baxter: Unfollow me if you think the Earth is flat.  Chris: *seriously pretends to be a flat-earther to antagonize the anti-flat-earther.  Anton: *neutral but makes polls to start fights, "Is the Earth flat? Let's discuss!"*  Xever: *not a flat-earther but makes "the Earth may be flat but this ass ain't" jokes for viral tweets*.  Ivan: *actual flat-earther.*

Tiger Claw: Good morning.  Ivan: Good morning.  Chris: Good morning.  Xever: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.  Anton: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

Chris: *writing a letter*  Chris: Dear Santa,  I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...  And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard. 

Tiger Claw: Hey Ivan, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this.  Ivan, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah?  Tiger Claw: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Ivan!

Anton: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.  Xever, used to Anton being dumb: Sure...  Anton: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.  Xever: Okay?  Anton: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.  Xever: Anton: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-  Xever: Jesus, that one is a little-  Ivan, interested: No, no, Anton, keep going.

Baxter: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful couple...  Anton: I really care about your feelings!  Ivan: I really care about YOUR feelings!  Baxter, turning their head: ...and then there's the disaster couple...  Chris: YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF BEING AT THE HOSPITAL!  Xever: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME AT THE HOSPITAL IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!

*when the Squad drops food*  Ivan: Eh, oh well.  Anton: FIVE-SECOND RULE!  Xever: FUCK!  Tiger Claw: *just gets more food*  Baxter: *drops to their knees and mourns the food*  Chris: *eats the food off the ground*

Chris: Nothing in life is free.  Ivan: Love is free.  Tiger Claw: Knowledge is free.  Baxter: Friendship is free.  Xever: Self-respect is free.  Anton: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.  The Squad: ...  Ivan: Anton, that's illegal-  Chris: No, let them finish! 

if I’m bothered later I might do more idk

#tigerclaw #baxter stockman #xever montes #fishface #chris bradford #rahzar #ivan steranko #rocksteady #anton zeck #bebop #bopsteady #royal weenies #dogfish #I think that’s the name? #tmnt 2012 #foot clan

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 36

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 9 minutes

I look at Mark, confused as to why he stopped in the jewelry section, when we came here to buy a jacket instead. Cheap leather jackets are a pain in the ass exactly because of that, they get so easily wasted after a few days of wearing them, and then you have to end up buying  a new one anyway -it looks ugly as hell whenever the whole leatherette starts raising, and the fabric behind it is visible. 

I support half of my body on the crystal counter, looking at the several rings he's looking at. I didn't know he had a thing for them.

He suddenly stops at the engagement rings displayed on one side, and I instantly frown while I look down at them. As if everything made sense all of a sudden, I look up at him surprised, smiling mischievously, before I hit his side with my elbow. 

—No shit...

—Shit —he nods.

I can't help but jump slightly, hitting his arm again. And while I think that will be all, I end up hugging him tight. It's not like it's something unexpected, they've been together for a long time, but it feels great that they've reached that stability they wanted in life before taking such a step. 

—I'm so glad for you two —I pat his back—. So that's why you wanted me to come and help you pick a jacket?

—Soo is your sister, you might know what she'd prefer.

—She's your girlfriend, and you two live together. I bet you know what she wants more than me —I assure him. 

—So you aren't going to be of help... —Mark concludes. 

—Trust your own guts, and you'll be fine. 

Without saying anything else, Mark just lets his eyes go blank, turning back to the rings displayed on the counter. Not even a minute later, a middle-aged woman appears in front of him, placing the rebel hairs that escape her ponytail while she speaks. 

I don't know what they talk about, because I completely disconnect from the conversation without being aware. 

I move around the counter, checking out the bracelets and necklaces displayed, finding some of them a bit too much. Especially one that has a gemstone the size of a tangerine as a pendant. Who the fuck wears that without dislocating their necks?

I'm almost going to go back to Mark's side, until one of the necklaces gets my attention. It's placed in one of the upper corners of the counter, almost hidden from sight if you don't look at it carefully. The pendant is small, but has several details that make me raise my hand and compare it to one of my tattoos. The shape is pretty similar to the snake design Y/n loves so much. 

Aware of my attention, the other woman who was resting her back at the other side of the counter, also comes to me. 

—May I help you?

—How much is it? —I point to the necklace.

—Two ninety-nine —she informs me—. It's one of the newest pieces. Made with solid rich nine carat white gold.

As she gave all those details, she moved the necklace from the counter, placing it in four of her fingers to display it directly for me. Although I'd love to see Y/n wearing this, three hundred bucks is too much money. 

—And how much would it be if I only took the pendant? 

—Two hundred.

I twist my lips, trying to think whether that is a good deal or not. While I still think it's expensive, I can't control my voice saying that I take it with a cheering tone. I just know she'll love it as soon as she sees it, and the perfect way I can picture her smile going wider is the biggest motivation that leads to my impulses right now. 

—Is that for your girlfriend? —Mark starts teasing me, thinking I'll just play around. 

—Yes —I answer, eyes still fixed on the way the woman is packing the pendant in a small blue velvet box.

I play with his confusion and silence to my advantage, turning to him and changing the topic as fast as I'm able to. 

—Did you already pick a ring?

—Yep —he smiles proudly. 

He raises the red box to his face level, opening it carefully to show off the ring inside of it. Although, when I turn my eyes a bit to the left, I can tell Soo will love it just by the way he looks so excited about it. 

After that long break, we both are back at the studio. Although there isn't much to do -Mark made sure of it to be able to leave and buy the ring with no worries-, which leads to me focusing on designs and half-made drawings that I need to finish. 

I opened one of the cabinets, looking for the colored pencils to finalize one of the details on the future tattooed lion, although a silent jingle gets my attention faster than the white old tiny box. 

I don't remember when I left this chain here. To be honest, I thought Taehyung lost it one of the times he got something borrowed from me. But I guess I took it off one of the times I was bothered by the smallest accessory while working. 

I roll the chair over to the place where my denim jacket is hanging, taking out the box again to compare the color of the golden pendant with the silver tone of the steel chain. 

Now. Now the gift looks perfect. 

The rest of the day goes by pretty fast, until Tae and Jimin show up with weird smiles that promise anything but good things. There's no reason for them to behave like this, they just thought it'd be nice to meet up and go out for some drinks, although -as usual- it always ends up with Jimin daring me to drink more than him. 

And yep, it ends... in a way it's supposed to end when you drink way too much while pushing your limits. 

Unlike us, Tae takes the responsible role for tonight, only cheering for us -knowing damn well he'll be the one looking after us once we're done emptying the alcohol bottles here. 

—Should we play something? —Jimin suggests. 

—Play something? —Tae arches his eyebrows— The only thing you should be playing with right now is your bed. And Jungkook, too. You barely can't keep your head straight. 

Trying to show me, Taehyung pushed my arm, moving my palm suddenly and making my head go all the way to the front. I probably would've ended up hitting the table with it if his palm hadn't avoided it. 

Since when does my head weigh so much?

—Don't play the adult with us, you can't even keep a girl around longer than a week —Jimin teases him, dragging every word that comes out of his mouth. 

—You have a girlfriend, and look at you. It's taking you a sigh not to throw up all over the table right now —Tae replies back—. Besides, I don't keep a girl because I don't want to, not because I can't do it. Having a girlfriend is too complicated, look at him —he points at me. 

—What? —I raise my head— What about me?

—Nothing, Kook. You're doing great —Jimin pats my back. 

—I can keep a girl —I point at myself—. You're just jealous because you can't have a woman like my Y/n —I close my eyes, smiling big just by remembering her. 

My smile suddenly drops when both of them pretend to gag and throw up when I say that, making me stand up almost immediately to confront them. 

—Do you have any problems?

Both of them shake their heads and deny it at the same time, pushing my body back down again to make me sit on my chair. 

—Guys, it's not important if Tae can't keep a girl, or Jungkook is so clingy that's disgusting —both of us look at him, offended by his comment, but he still goes on:—, what's important is how strong our friendship is. We've known each other for a long while, and here we are still. I love you, guys, so much. 

—Then I'm the disgusting one... 

My comment is fast followed by a quick slap on the side of my neck, making me turn to Jimin to find him frowning, just to go back to smiling again. 

Two hours later, and just like his role was meant to, Tae calls a cab that will take us back home. I'm the last one to be dropped off at home, because my house is the furthest from the pub we went to tonight. 

It takes me forever to get to my couch, as if the sofa was kilometers away from the entrance door and the floor kept moving by itself from one place to the other, I'm unable to control the weight of my body, because it falls over it lazily. And I don't really want to move it. Until I remember Y/n asked me to tell her when I got home, so she'd be able to go to sleep knowing I'm not lost in the middle of New York by myself. 

I raise my arm, enough so the upper part of my body is caught by the camera, and I pose for her, sending her a flying kiss that I know she will most definitely love when she sees it. Not even checking the picture, I get ready to send it along with a text that lets her know I'm okay. 

Me: I'm home

Cocktease: Tell me you didn't drive

Me: I didnt. Tae called a cab

I can't go to sleep without hearing her voice though. Seeing that it takes her a while to type what she wants to say, I directly start a call. 

—Cocktease, I'm rensponsinble. Wait... Responsible —I'm not really sure if I had pronounced it right anyway, but I let it go. 

—You're so wasted —I hear her cackle.

—Could be —my head nods—. Remind me not to hang out with Jimin ever again —I mumble—. He's an awful influence.

—Says the good boy that has done nothing wrong in his life —she uses the teasing note I like so much. 

—I've done a lot of wrong things to you, and you've loved every single one of them —saying that phrase takes me more than it was first intended to, but I know it'll have the effect I want it to have—. Were you waiting for me? It's too late.

—Yeah, but I couldn't sleep either. It's alright —she sighs. 

—Go to sleep, babe —I encourage her—. You need to get some rest.

I hear her whine, and I know she's battling herself not to go to sleep right now. 

—Fine —she whispers—. We'll talk tomorrow.

—Yup —I nod up and down, marking the movement as if she were seeing me right now—. Sarangee.

My Korean is better the more alcohol I drink, that's for sure...

✸ ✸ ✸

After spending the day working in the studio, Tae comes around to get a snack before I leave to pick Y/n up. It's not a wild meeting. At least not like the one we had last night. We just meet up to eat something, and talk randomly about what we've done today, and how I managed to come to work, although my head didn't belong to my body at times -or, at least, that's what I wished throughout the shift. 

—Are you seeing Y/n today? —he mentions.

—Yeah, I should be picking her up in thirty minutes —I look at the time on my phone. 

—So, she's your girlfriend already?

—Something like that —I shrug. 

Tae doesn't need to say anything, it's enough with the way he's looking at me, tilting his eyebrow while waiting for me to explain it better. 

—We're exclusive, but we're testing the waters.

—Do you two really need to test the waters at this point? —he scoffs— It's okay, anyway. I'm glad you're taking things easy. You usually go from 0 to 100 quite fast.

—It's not that I don't want to —I admit—. But she needs time. And I respect that. I know what she feels, and that's the only thing that matters. 

—What about the necklace you told us about last night? Will you give it to her now? —he asks. 

—Yeah, she'll love it —I smile big, moving my hand over my leg—. Watch. 

But when I dig in the pocket of my jacket, there's nothing in there. I throw my head back, exasperated at myself when I remember that I took the box out, and it's probably still in the studio. 

I leave the bar, getting on my motorbike to drive back to the studio and pick the necklace before I pick her up. Checking it out, I make sure it looks good inside the box before I sneak it in the pocket again, driving to her workplace this time. 

Everything goes as usual though. I drive among the cars, to jump straight to the front of the traffic light, and it's even easier when I get to a street where there's barely any cars around. 

The calmness disappears fast, and then comes back again, and stays with me when everything goes black after I've felt my body being pushed abruptly. 

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #tattooau #jungkook pov #Under His Skin #reader insert #armpirate

[subsystems]

8/31/22

This is about my experience with fusion and integration. I also use parts language. If that bothers you, don't read or follow.

Some of you guys requested that I talk about my journey with fusion. I'll share a little bit about that now, although I might have more to say later.

Ultimately, I want everyone to keep in mind that fusion doesn't just happen for no reason. For me, this has been the culmination of years and years of therapy, trauma processing, escaping abuse, and lots of parts work.

My system didn't really start working as a system until a couple years ago. I had to completely change everything about how I was treating myself and my parts. We worked so hard on trying to understand each other, empathize, and bridge the dissociative barriers. Understanding that we were all connected, no matter how different or distant we felt, was what built the foundation for us to understand each other as both a whole and the parts of that whole.

We had a handful of "spontaneous fusions" throughout our therapy, but looking back on these I realize they only seemed spontaneous. I wasn't in touch with all parts of myself yet, so I wasn't aware of how much progress each part had made or how integrated they had become.

After finding more stability in our life and lots of parts work, the majority of the system was able to be more or less co-conscious with each other. We could control switching, communication was very easy, we were cooperative on all decisions, and there was hardly any amnesia. Honestly, this was mind-blowing because when I was first diagnosed, I had hardly any system communication and SO many blackouts. I had no control over my life, let alone any memory of it.

The system as a whole also had to learn how to stop relying on dissociation. Dissociation was my go-to coping mechanism for any difficult situation. I had to learn how to handle these situations without switching or forgetting or detaching or splitting apart. Like with everything else, this A LOT of practice and therapy. Eventually, I started noticing that I was able to be in situations that were normally stressful for me without becoming dissociative. It still happened on occasion but it took a lot more to make me dissociate, and my dissociation was much more mild. I had become so resilient. And I stopped splitting new parts.

Eventually, the lines between the parts began to disappear. It was like being blurry but...good? There was some confusion but not in a dissociative way, more in a new experience way. Not sure how else to explain this. Some people call it blending.

The majority of my system gradually fused over the course of a few months. A lot of things happened during those months. It's very personal so I'm not going to elaborate, but it was also probably some of the best few months of my life. I was so much safer and happier and healthier.

During all of that, I realized that the parts weren't really parts anymore, but a clump of parts. And I was both a part inside that clump, the other parts inside that clump, and the whole clump. All at the same time. It was confusing but also just nice. I could feel everything from all perspectives.

Over the course of healing and just living my life, the clump still stayed. Sometimes it'd get weaker and some parts would fall out due to stress. But eventually we'd all go back to being coalesced together. The clump would get stronger and more solid. It'd feel more right, and make more sense. It'd feel more whole.

My memories all slotted together into this flowing timeline. And (besides some trauma memories) they weren't surrounded by this sense of "that's not me." I could remember them and I could accept them. A foreign sensation, but once I had it, I never ever wanted to let go.

It took so long to convince myself that I, as an existence, made sense. And I KNEW that I made sense. But finally, fucking finally, I felt it.

I understood myself.

There's something about that. Going your whole life, not understanding yourself. Not understanding your parts. Not understanding your life or your past or your present. But when I got in the metaphorical alter clump, I UNDERSTOOD.

All of the parts are still here, of course. Just not as alters. And even if they fall out of the clump, they don't quite feel the same as how we used to feel as alters if that makes sense. We're over here just lovin' the clump life.

I don't expect my experience with fusion to be universal, but hopefully hearing about it will help those who are interested in this recovery path.

- Sunflower

#sunflower posts #actuallydid #actuallydissociative #actuallytraumagenic #actuallyintegrated #actuallypolyfragmented #dissociative identity disorder #DID recovery #fusion #final fusion #integration

[libertarian-druid-in-greater-vt]

"Hamas wont let civillians leave" you mean Israehell wont let civilians leave you absolute fucking dunce. Were you dropped on your head as a child or were you born this fucking stupid? like be fucking real here man

Who controls all the check points? Israel.

Who bombs and shoots civilians trying to escape? Israel.

Who is blockading aid from reaching palestinians who need it? Israelis.

Who said no to a hostage deal where all israel has to do is permanently stop bombing gaza and killing civillians in exchange of ALL hostages? Thats right! Its Israel!

Wow who cheers while they watch people getting bombed? Israelis

Who loots palestinian homes after killing or scaring the owners off? Israel

Who is on here posting videos of kidnapped civillians and posting snuf videos of oof soldiers killing palestinians? Its Israel

Who is raiding palestinian homes in the west bank, forcible evicting families, killing livestock, and burning down olive trees? Israelis.

You libertarian idiots are all "dont tread on me" till the government decides to stomp the "wrong" kind of people into the dirt and dance in their blood

Not that youll actually care, cause your types are the most self interested selfish heartless people on the planet

Go back to doomsday prepping and letting the us government deep fuck you and shut the hell up

Wasn't aware Israel controlled Egyptian borders, but I was specifically talking about targets for mortar strikes. Ain't many Israeli checkpoints per city block in Gaza.

Far as the second read the above.

Literally nobody is blockading aid, don't use words you don't know the meaning of. Israel restricts arms and precursor chemicals for bomb and explosive making. Considering the region is literally controlled by terrorists asserting themselves as the government, I'd say that's perfectly reasonable. There's plenty of stuff that seems unreasonable on that list too, and I'm not gonna claim otherwise. That is something Israel needs to fix. However, humanitarian aid is always allowed through, and then stolen by Hamas.

So, all they had to do was promise to never use an asset which keeps Israeli lives safe. Yeah I wouldn't have denied that, I'd lie my ass off. But you've just got no problem that they're taking, maiming, raping, and killing hostages as young as infancy. Interesting.

Yeah, that's what happens when you base a terrorist organization in civilian infrastructure, then force people to stay despite warnings.

Far as looting, yeah, that's wrong. Never said Israel was perfect, but they're a damn sight better than Hamas.

I assume this is what you're referring to. And again, never said they were perfect. But they're a damn sight better than the PA.

The "wrong" people are fucking theocratic dictators and terrorists. These are not friendly people looking to free Palestine. Hamas is fucking evil, and while the IDF and Mossad bear some responsibility for not wiping them out sooner, when they were less of a threat, the reaction would be the same for Hamas simps.

Israel is an important part of stabilizing the middle east. They're one of very few stable governments, and are helping to bring stability to the ME. Saudi Arabia has actually started negotiating an alliance with the US and Israel. They're taking the Polish approach to westernization and holding tightly to their cultural heritage while also becoming a little more like the west. Meanwhile the support goes to the people looking to see the west and our progress burned to ash.

Make it make sense.