#there's no substance to this relationship. why do they even like each other. it just falls apart if you examine it at all

[mamawasatesttube]

you guys i have so many thoughts about tdr. i have so much to say. like i don't want to be super mean but dude that comic fucking sucks and i can't lie i think it made me kind of homophobic actually

#my stance up to now has been that i don't really care about tim/ber but now that i have read this. dude... #it sucks that they gave a canon queer tim narrative to someone who uses homophobia as shock value and virtue signaling points #and who actively tears down characters who don't like her special little uwu flawless oc (kate im so fucking sorry) #there's no substance to this relationship i don't see why they even like each other #bc she keeps just stating oh they're perfect they make each other so happy but she doesn't like. show that at all #and i HATE the shock value homophobia like i cannot overstate how much i hate it #oh these random cops are homophobic (that's how you know they're BAD!) #oh bernard's parents are homophobic (that's how you know THEY'RE bad too!) #it's so hamfisted and it reads like such. cheap storytelling #especially bc tim as narrator doesn't even get to have ANY thoughts on his own queerness or seeing this homophobia in the world around him #and then she can't go more than two pages without being like BTW BERNARD IS THE BEST EVER AND TIM CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM #while against this ugly backdrop of shock value homophobia #there's no substance to this relationship. why do they even like each other. it just falls apart if you examine it at all #because she just is fundamentally incapable of writing either of them as people with character flaws #for fucks sake she can't even be consistent with tim's BASIC character tenets. ''i always dreamed of being batman'' false lmao #but then to follow it up with ''i never wanted to be batman i always wanted to be my dad'' #and then on TOP OF THAT to make the Only mention of Jack drake and his impact on tim's life ABOUT BERNARD AGAIN. #yeah sorry im a hater now. this was shit tier #rimi talks

[transmutationisms]

Why are communists against postmodernism?

in very crude terms: 'postmodernism' has historically been defined / defined itself by the rejection of claims to access 'objective' truths, narratives, and knowledge. in its strongest form, this stance precludes the defence of a materialist (including marxist) theory of history or society: if we cannot truly access an objective reality or know for sure that we are doing so, then clearly any discourse referring to 'real' material conditions or relations is rendered untenable, or at least heavily asterisked. in other words, a strict 'postmodernist' sees marxism as defending only a naïve realist position, à la feuerbach. the strict marxist, in turn, considers the postmodernist position to be a reactionary discourse that invokes the social construction of knowledge in order to defend (knowingly or not) ruling class interests by denying the possibility of understanding and therefore changing the material conditions of the world.

in practice, few people beyond a select few polemical academics have ever committed to the 'strong' versions of these claims. in particular, to read marxism as naïve in this manner is fundamentally a misunderstanding of marx's appropriation of hegel, which entailed not just 'turning him on his head' (that is, reversing the relationship between material world and ideal Spirit) but theorising dialectically. marx's claim was not that material reality could be known naïvely, or independently of our ideological schemata or modes of thought; nor was it that materiality (base) operated independently of, or solely in determination of, ideality (superstructure). and, though you may still hear some communists / marxists shitting on postmodernism, that term is mostly unfashionable these days anyway, and any serious communist analysis is itself predicated on quite a bit of social constructivist critique.

so although it's certainly true that communists are (rightfully) scornful of reactionary bourgeois postmodernist ideology that denies the basic premises of material / class analysis, in truth any decent communist these days is already making fruitful use of constructivist and post-structuralist critiques, and is also hostile to crude positivist / determinist ideology even when it brands itself as marxism. which is just to say that like a lot of philosophical debates, this one looks very different when we consider the substance of the arguments imputed to each 'side', and are attentive to when and how those arguments are actually deployed, rather than accepting at face value the sort of ideological coherence and consistency that is often implied by labels like "postmodernist" or debate parameters like "communist v. postmodernist".

[cleoluvrr]

Call Me (Rafe Cameron x Reader) I

SYNOPSIS: call someone else if you want that.

WARNINGS: mature content; secret relationship, verbal abuse, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, obsession, depiction of explicit sexual acts

masterlist

rafe always had a meanness to him, one that you’d never been oblivious to, though never really on the receiving end of it at first. the two of you would have petty banter, little arguments that would eventually reveal the underlying tension between you, but it was nothing more than that.

with others, however, you’d seen him be cruel–beyond cruel. your middle sister, just a couple years your junior, was friends with kiara carrera and those other boys she hangs out with by association. you’d heard the stories of his behavior, and while it may make you a terrible person, you really didn’t care. his business with them wasn’t yours, and you weren’t close enough to rafe to confront him about it. she’s never said he’s done anything to her directly, so what could you really do about it? it’s not like she knew you two even talked in the first place, so it was out of your hands.

maybe it was because of his strained relationship with his father, or the lack of relationship with his mother. it could be just how he is naturally; you wouldn’t be surprised.

however, you began to become a victim of his malice yourself at some point last year. you two weren’t particularly nice to each other, but there was something different this time. it used to be playful, but this time it was purposeful; at least it was on his end.

sure, rafe isn’t the most rational person in the world, but the amount of anger and frustration he was taking out on the girl he was secretly fucking was completely out of proportion. 

you asked him more times than i can remember; begging him to tell you what was wrong. even when you should have been mad at him for treating you like some bitch off the street, you simply couldn’t ignore the feeling of something being wrong with him. maybe you caught feelings for him and that’s why you cared so much, even when you shouldn’t have.

it was around the time you sister started staying out later, riding around town with her friends and stirring up trouble like she had no home-training. you were positive rafe had something to do with it, but never said anything about it. it wasn’t like he was answering your calls at the time anyway.

eventually, you just stopped talking. maybe it was inevitable, a natural occurrence from lack of mutual communication.

so when you saw him just a few dozen yards away for the first time in months, you weren’t sure how to feel.

you watch as he takes each drink to the head, shot after shot from across the room. his blonde hair that would have once been blocking his vision was now cropped short and barely visible from where you stood. the people around him encouraged the behavior, cheering him on every time he slammed the bottom of a shot glass back on the table.

he looked deceptively sober, but his body language was all the evidence you needed to know he had more than a bump of the cocaine some girl brought to the party. his alcohol tolerance was way stronger than everyone around him, the sloppiness of his friends completely opposite of his nonchalant demeanor.

that was one of many differences between the two of you. he liked to drink, get high, and do things that were far past the limits of legality that only someone with money and influence like him could get away with. you hated the feeling of losing control, of not being completely aware of what was happening around you, and would even never think of doing a fraction of the things he does.

yet, for some reason that you could never figure out, he piqued your interest. 

maybe it was because he was “bad,” and you were “good.” maybe it was his roughness that attracted you, or the way he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. rafe’s instability contrasted everything about you; it gave you a rush that you’ve never felt with anyone else.

“what are you looking at?”

you’re pulled out of the one-sided staring contest, the sound of your friend’s voice capturing your attention over the loud music. 

“what?” you said. you leaned down towards the shorter blond, ear in better reach of her voice.

“what are you looking at?” she repeats louder this time. her breath smells of alcohol, the pink whitney sitting in the bottom of her cup the clear cause of her slight swaying.

your eyes flicker back to the boy across the room for a moment, the sight of him leaning down to snort a white substance from the table beneath him making you cringe to yourself. your friend’s eyes follow yours, the green irises further revealed by the widening of her eyes.

“rafe cameron?” she says quite loudly, her voice carrying around the area as other people nearby turn to look at her in annoyance. “why the hell are you staring at rafe cameron?”

“say it louder, why don’t you? i don’t think russia could hear you.” your eyes tear away from him and return them to your scantily clad friend. “jesus christ, misty. you are so drunk.”

“you should try it some time.” she giggles, arm raising her cup in a cheer. you rolled your eyes at her and raised your own drink to your lips, the taste of cool water refreshing on your tongue. 

your experience with alcohol is slim by choice. the idea of not being in total control of yourself makes you more than uncomfortable, and the taste of the beverage did not appeal to you. you knew how to have a good time without the aid of alcohol or drugs.

“i’ll pass…” you say with a breathy chuckle. you pulled out your phone to check the time, the dark of the night beginning to drag on into the earliest hours of the morning. you were sure if you stayed out any longer your parents would send a search group.

the party hadn’t been much fun to me anyways, the celebration of your friend’s recent graduation not doing much to keep me entertained.

your gaze returns to the spot where rafe stood only to be met with nothing, the boy nowhere to be found in your brief sweep of the area. you look around the party from where you stood, head swiveling to find the blonde amongst the gaggle of kooks in the room. he has seemingly vanished into thin air despite being the most noticeable person in the place.

“hey, um…” you trailed off, head turning back to face a drunk misty. “i need to get home. are you ready to go?”

the girl shakes her head, finger pointing behind her to the familiar figure of her boyfriend. he was watching her closely, clearly on edge as his inebriated girlfriend consumed enough liquor to take down a grown man.

“jordan is taking me home with him.” she giggles again, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. you were sure he’d have her tucked into bed within the next two hours, whatever she thought was gonna happen would not be happening if he had anything to say about it.

“okay, girl. i’ll see you soon.” you pulled her into an embrace, the top of her head reaching the bottom of your chin as you lean down to hug her. you weren't sure how she wasn’t falling over yet–there wasn't much body for the alcohol she had befriended for the night to go through. “and lay off the liquor.” your voice was stern as you pulled away.

she throws the rest of the liquid down her throat in response, the bottom of the red solo cup left empty as crushed it beneath her fingers. you couldn’t help but to smile at her before turning away, her boyfriend now fast approaching before she got a chance to find the liquor table again.

stepping out of the party, you pull your phone from the pocket of your skirt to order a car home. it had completely slipped your mind that you rode here with misty and her boyfriend, instantly reminded of the fact that you didn’t own a car nor a license as you approached the front yard. the prices for cars at this time a night were more than you got paid per hour.

your head fell back in frustration, the warm summer breeze blowing against your bare legs as you ground out into the night sky. 

“y/n?”

the sound of your name sends a shiver down your back. you stopped dead in your tracks, as if the cool metal of a gun was being held to the back of your skull. 

your head turns in the direction of the familiar voice, eyes tearing away from the distant constellations in the night sky. lafe’s leaning against the side of his truck, a mixture of keys dangling around his finger.

“rafe.” you respond to him with his own name. “long time, no see.”

your feet carried you towards the blonde resting against the dark colored vehicle behind, eyes locked on the blue of his own. 

you could feel the sharpness of your teeth tearing into your bottom lip, the warm, bubbly feeling you got whenever the two of you were in the same room making a return. rafe’s eyes fell to the way you were ravaging the plump flesh, almost entranced by the sight. 

“how’ve you been?” the taller man pulls his gaze away and returns it to your eyes as he inquires. “heard you graduated, congrats by the way.”

“yeah, thanks.” you reply chipperly. “um…i’ve been alright. not a lot going on, to be honest. you?”

“same, same… he trails off awkwardly, the sounds of the late night filling the air between us. “hey, um, do you–do you need a ride, or anything?”

you shook your head immediately and raised your hand to show him the rideshare app on the screen.

“no, i’m good. i don’t wanna take you out of your way.” you smile politely at him as you speak. “thanks, though.”

rafe shakes his head and opens the passenger’s side door he was previously leaning on just seconds before. 

“it’s no big deal, seriously. you don’t live that far from me, i’m heading in that direction anyway.”

you stare at him wordlessly for a moment, eyes tearing away from him and flickering around the street around you. no one had exited the party after you did, at least not that you had seen. the ground was shaking beneath the two of you as the bass of the music continued strongly through the night.

you hesitantly take a step towards the car door being held open by the tall blonde, not quite sure if it’s smart for you to be around him right now. you lift yourself into the tall truck and plop down into the seat before your eyes set on rafe once again. 

the fist-stized muscle protected by your ribs feels as if it’s trying to tear your chest in half to escape just from the sight of rafe, unsure of how to behave around him anymore. 

shutting the door after seeing you settled inside, he makes his way over to the driver’s side. watching as he buckles himself in and starts the car, the roaring of the engine sent a vibration through the entirety of your being. 

“do you think you should be driving right now?” you spoke up after a minute of silence. his head turns fully to meet your eyes, his pupils large and eyes dark under the minimal lighting of the moon above.

his eyebrows raise at the inquiry before just barely furrowing them in confusion.

“you think i can’t handle my liquor?” he blinks at you in the darkness of the car, eyelids hiding and revealing the blown out pupils that had taken over the ocean blue of his irises. “you never had a problem with it before.”

your mouth opened briefly before snapping back shut, the words that left his own rendering you responseless. 

you and rafe had a long history together, though, if you were to ask anyone else that, they’d be taken by surprise. there had been plenty of times where you’ve let him drive around while he was far from sober, but it had been months since then. it had been months since you two had spoken, and it wasn’t really something you felt comfortable with anymore.

“okay, well it’s been a while and you’ve had a lot to drink tonight.” you eventually found your voice again, pointing out how long it’s been since you’d been in a situation like this one. 

rafe didn’t argue, instead choosing to shrug his shoulders wordlessly. he put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway smoothly, the truck pulling off into the dimly lit street.

you sat in silence for the entire ride, the awkwardness in the air more on your end than his. the trees blew by on the side of the road, the leaves appearing to be nothing but dark blurs as you observed them from the window. rafe was not sparse with the gas, each sharp, fast turn leaving you more anxious than the last.

you could feel rafe glance towards me every so often, steely eyes burning into the side of your face and leaving behind a warmth in your cheeks that couldn’t be shaken.

it was when he pulled in front of your dark house that he finally broke the silence, leaving a question that you weren’t quite sure how to answer hovering in the cool air of the truck.

“hey, y/n?” 

“yeah?” you didn’t turn to face him, choosing instead to watch the windows of your house for any signs of life.

he sat wordlessly for a few seconds and you could feel his eyes on you once again, much more intensely than the first few times on the road. you were afraid to look back at him, fully aware that you would become lost in them like you did when you first met him.

“why’d you stop calling?” he asked. 

you blinked at the reflection in the window, his question echoing in your head. turning to face him, his eyes locked onto yours. they refused to let go, gaze leaving you trapped under the spell that it casts upon you. 

gulping soundlessly, you wet your mouth with the saliva collecting underneath your tongue as you prepared an answer. it felt as if the words had been stolen from your throat the moment you exchanged looks. 

“why’d you stop answering?” you said after finding your voice.

the feelings repressed began to bubble to the surface the longer you two sat in the enclosed space. you felt breathless, confused, and angry. not only at him, but at yourself as well. 

you let yourself become attached when you shouldn’t have, and because of that you had to suffer repercussions of unrequited feelings. you were angry because he left you hanging for weeks, but you let him. he treated you like shit, but you let him. you were never supposed to catch feelings, but you let yourself. 

that’s why you’re angry.

even with all of that, your heart never failed to beat out of your chest when he was near you. rafe didn’t even need to put his hands on you to leave you breathless. you should hate him, especially with how he treated you, treated your sister and her friends–but you don’t. you can’t.

that’s why you’re confused.

“i was dealing with a lot. i’m sorry.”

“that’s not really an excuse, rafe.” your lips pursed at him before rubbing together, the clear lip gloss coating them acting as a lubricant to prevent friction between them. “you didn’t want to tell me what was wrong when i asked, so you don’t get to use that card.”

rafe puts the car into park before fully turning to you, the furrow of his brow intensifying as he squints. shaking his head slightly, he opens his mouth to speak.

“it didn’t have anything to do with you, though.” he said. “i didn’t wanna drag you into my shit because it was…it was a lot. it was a lot and you didn’t need to be involved.”

“okay, and that’s fine.” your eyes flickered over at the dashboard’s clock to check the time, the number rising with each minute into the night. you turned back to him. “what’s not fine is blowing me off for months and then asking me why i stopped calling. you didn’t care to answer the phone when i did.”

rafes hand rakes over his buzzed head, fingers running through the stubble that replaces the golden locks that once held its place. he pulls his lip in between his pearly white teeth as he nods at you, tongue peeking through as they part to make space for the pink muscle. 

“you’re right.” he doesn’t argue like he usually would, the sudden accountability taking you by surprise. “that was kinda fucked up, wasn’t it? you didn’t deserve that.”

“no, rafe. i didn’t.”

he nods his head again and leans back against the cool, tinted window. his lids are low as he looks across at you, the intensity of his gaze causing your heart to leave bruises on your ribs from how strongly it pounded. you could barely hear anything, blood rushing past your ears and every breath shakier than the last.

stepping out of the car, rafe makes his way over to the passenger side door. you watch curiously as he crosses the front of the car, the street lights shining down on his broad frame. you don’t move when he opens the door, nor when he looks between you and your seatbelt expectantly.

your brows raise at the man briefly before the ‘click’ of the seatbelt fills both your ears, hands removing the snug strap from across your chest. you take the hand that he offers to exit the car, glancing up at your house again before taking it. nobody seemed to be awake but you still didn’t want to risk anyone seeing us this close together.

“nobody’s gonna see, y/n . calm down.” rafe’s voice so close to your ear pulls your attention away from the property and back towards him standing before you. 

you stepped down from the truck with his aide, but he didn’t move even once your feet touch the ground. instead, his hands moved to grasp your waist and pull you closer. the move felt so familiar yet so strange, but you accepted it rather than pushing him away. 

the warmth of his palms against your bare skin was intensified by the jolts of electricity felt whenever we touched. you could tell he felt the way you shivered in response to his fingers just barely gripping the soft flesh beneath them, thumbs smoothing over in a back and forth motion.

“i’m sorry i ghosted you. i was an asshole for that, and you know what? i deserve whatever you feel towards me.” you say nothing, but don’t push him away either. he takes that as a sign to continue. “but i hope you find it in you to forgive me, because i–i miss you.”

you nearly snorted as he uttered the sentence.

“you miss me?” you repeated the words back to him. “you sure know how to show it.”

“yes, i miss you.” rafe’s hold intensifies for a moment before going back to its previous state. “when i saw you at the party tonight, i–i didn’t know how much i missed your face. i missed your smile, your smell. i missed having you close to me and being able to hold you like this…”

the sound of him inhaling strongly shook you, his eyes screwing shut as he took in the combination of your natural scent and the gourmand perfume you wore. his fingers twitched against your skin as he resisted the urge to dig them deep into the flesh like he always used to. his chest rose and fell intensely, all but able to see his blood pumping through his jugular. 

“god, i fucking miss you.”

“rafe…” you called his name softly but sternly to pull him out of his hypnotized state. his eyes open but they’re barely focused. you weren’t sure if his pupils were blown because of the high, or because of you. “i miss you, too.”

the stillness between us remains until you broke it, the voice in the back of your head reminding you of the months spent trying to get over him.

“i miss you, but i can’t do this again.” you sighed heavily. “you fucked me up for months, rafe, and i can’t let that happen again.”

“it won’t happen again. i promise.”

sou shook your head at his words, tongue poking out just enough to taste the vanilla flavor of the gloss coating your lips. 

“no–no, rafe. no promises.” you let your hands fall to rest on top of his, watching as the sudden contact makes him shiver just as much as it used to when he did it to you. “no feelings–i can’t do that again.”

you pushed him away gently and stepped to the side, unsure of if you’d regret the words about to leave your lips next.

“if you wanna fuck, then we can do that.” your bluntness catches him off guard, head jerking back at the directness of the words. you’d never spoken like that before, and it shocked you as well. “but the lovey-dovey shit that we used to do? no more of that.”

“what?” rafe looks at you in disbelief, the vulgar language leaving him stunned. it was a rarity that you cursed–at least around him–, let alone said something so…intense. “what is that supposed to mean? ‘no more lovey-dovey shit?’”

you shrugged and pushed past him fully, feet carrying your body a few yards away before turning back to speak. he looked thoroughly confused and a bit hurt, but not as hurt as he left you when he ghosted you with a million unanswered questions and just as many ignored phone calls.

“it means if you call me in the night-time, i might pick up.” your eyes scanned for his reaction to the words left echoing in your own head for a moment, the heat of his gaze reminding you of the reason you needed to escape into the house behind you to begin with. “just depends on what you’re on.”

rafe was left standing in the dark of the early morning, bewildered and alone. 

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx2 #obx1 #obx3 #obx fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

"Get my cake, and eat it, too."

✨️It's a requested Dazai smut✨️

✧—Incl. Dazai smut, Dazai × F!reader, kitchen sex, dirty talk, fingering, not established relationship, ADA Dazai,uses of the word "mama", "Mommy", and "Daddy".

ღ—Note from the author. Yeah, I'm ᴬⁿⁿⁱᵉ the anime smut writer. First time writing for Dazai, so I hope u like this, ya little weirdos and weebs.

You and Dazai have known each other for a long time. Before the Port Mafia, worked with each other in the middle of it, and now are partners in the Armed Detective Agency.

It sounds like you'd be best friends, right? Well, yeah, pretty much. But it's hard to be friends with Dazai. He's always clinging to your waist, hugging you always flirting, staying at your house, sitting on your lap at work. He's a man-child, really.

Today is no different.

"Why don't we sneak away to your apartment, mamas?" He whispers into your ear, hugging you from behind. The other detectives don't even bat an eye anymore from how commonly this happens.

"Y'know, why the fuck not. I have nothing to do today anyway." You say with a shrug.

And that's where you two are, upstairs and in the kitchen of your apartment. You facing the refrigerator and him leaning against the counter behind you.

"You hungry—"

"Yes."

He immediately cuts you off when you ask, staring at the small gap between your thighs with eyes half-lidded. You look over your shoulder to see him now sitting on the counter, still staring.

"Jeez, okay... You wanna eat som—"

"Yes."

He fully cuts you off this time, hopping off the counter and softly touching your hips, touch feather light as he glides his fingers down your waist and to your thighs, gently squeezing the inner part of them.

"You think I could eat some of you? I'm really hungry for some reason..." He whispers into your ear, leaving gentle bites and licks along your neck.

"You promised this wouldn't happen, Osamu..." You say with a sigh but lean into his touch nonetheless. He smirks into your skin when you call him his first name, hands gently pulling your shorts and panties down at the same time.

"Come on, mama... You look too pretty not to eat... Just, let me have a snack?" He giggles, finger softly tracing your clit while the other one moves up and back to your waist.

"O-Osamu... You—" A soft moan cuts you off when he slides one finger into your tight little hole, digits pressing against the perfect spots to make you whimper.

"O-Osamu~ Fuck... Faster, p-please..." You whine, and you have him pressing his hard-on against your ass. "Yes, ma'am. "

He starts to go a bit faster, adding another finger while he lets go of your hip and starts to take off his pants, kissing your neck while you shiver and moan.

"D-d— FUCK— D-Dazai~♡…! Please..."

"Please what?" He asks, finally getting his pants and boxers off. He softly takes out his finger which you complain about, but you quickly stop when he replaces it with his cock.

"GAH- D-D-DADDY, FUCK~!!!" You scream out a moan, eyes rolling back into your head as you grab the kitchen island for support.

"Hmm~ Mommy, you're taking m-me so well..." He grunts into the back of your neck, sliding his hands up your shirt and holding your waist tightly.

You arch your back even more and he swears under his breath, sweat forming and sticking his hair to his forehead. He roughly slaps your ass to see the flesh move beneath him, and you scream out another breathy moan of pleasure.

"D-daddy... T-too GOOD— Please~♡ More..." Tears start to roll down your cheek from sheer pleasure, legs shaking as a bit of drool slips from your mouth.

"More, huh, pretty mama..." He grunts, rolling his hips faster and faster with each passing second. He lets out a small moan before he gives up on fighting it back and screams out just as loud as you.

"Dazai~…! I-I'm c-c—" You stutter out, but it was too late. A load of his and your cum shoots out, his long and hot ropes filling you to the brim while yours coats his dick in a shiny, milky substance.

"Awe... You could've had that in your mouth, mommy..." He whines, pouting like the man-child he is.

"Yeah? Well, you didn't fucking eat me. Just shoved your dick inside me."

"You're complaining?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess I'll just have to honor my word and eat out out."

"Wai—" "Too late."

(... Rampo heard everything from downstairs, rip.)

#dazai bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x chuuya #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #chuuya #bsd #chuuya fanart #chuuya nakahara #bsd fanart #bsd smut #bsd chuuya #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs

[neoplatinum]

keep it up - chase atlantic | ning 'ningning' yizhou

summary: i care for you, like you care for me

pairing: gf!ningning x reader

themes: fluff, angst, implied substance abuse, professional help, rest of aespa!

wc: 1.0k

pt2 of: VTMNTSCOAT - destroy lonely

you can hear the sound of yizhou learning how to play different riffs on her guitar. it's endearing and warm how hard she's trying to nail this one piece to play it for you.

you think that yizhou would make such a hot rockstar girlfriend, not that you would say it to her face. it would probably inflate her ego too much.

"baby! come eat lunch." yizhou's too into her playing, barely processing that you've said something to her. so you tap her shoulder and her head whips up to look at you. she smiles and takes the guitar off of herself, setting it on the stand.

you both walk to the kitchen, you grab both bowls and place them on the table, as yizhou grabs utensils. and when she sits downs she smiles at you.

"i think i'm going to be able to finish that song by tomorrow." she speaks with pride. you're proud of her, for trying so hard to play the guitar. you grab her hand, squeezing it for encouragement.

yizhou smiles and digs into her bowl of noodles, happily slurping it. you watch and adore how cute she looks, eyes intently watching her noodles, a frustrated expression when the noodles slip through her chopsticks.

--

you think about that night all those months ago, at aeri's party. how heartbroken you both were, feeling a tear in your relationship, wanting so badly to mend it with your own hands. so you tried, getting yizhou professional help. yizhou's been seeing a specialist, getting help with her dependency on drugs. understanding why her mood swings are so dire.

you try and sit in with her most sessions, sometimes yizhou would rather you just sit outside in the waiting room. when you sit outside of the room, you wonder if she'll ever confide in you with what she isn't willing to share. most of all you are just proud she takes each session in stride even if she doesn't want to attend.

it's been a lot of up and downs with her mood swings, but at the end of the day she always tells you how much she loves you. she thanks you for sticking by her. some days she throws things around when she's unstable, when her mood is so off that she can't contain the emotions she's feeling.

other days she completely shuts you out, staying in her room for hours on end with no sound. you get worried at times that she'll completely shut you out but it never lasts for longer than a day.

usually she'll crawl into your room when its so late you're already asleep and cuddle into your side. there have been a few times you wake up when she does it, other times you sleep through the night and wake up with yizhou next to you, probably playing with your hair.

it doesn't matter if she shuts you out or is attached to your hip the whole day, you will always be there as a space for her when she needs it.

you like to take long walks on days where yizhou is out. long walks to really think about your own wellbeing, how being with yizhou impacts you. how her actions can fill you up or let you down.

you talk to yizhou about it sometimes and she listens to you. letting you have the space to speak about your own struggles. you talk about how hurt you were that night when you caught her dancing up on some guy, but thinking it was you the whole time.

you cry into her shoulder as she cries into you. she still loves you, the same way she was when you two started dating. she tries to be more present with you, asking how you are doing as well. taking the time to care for you and pamper you as well.

--

aeri, minjeong, and jimin also visit often, getting little gifts for yizhou that always makes her smile. minjeong sometimes comes over with her guitar and everyone sits to watch them play songs together. you feel a deep warmth in your chest when they smile at each other while they're playing. you're eternally grateful for these girls, that they take the time to care for yizhou just as much as you do.

you talk about it with aeri, minjeong and jimin one day, how much you appreciate them. they all cry at the sight of you breaking down, comforting you when you explain how hard all this has been on you.

--

you've decided to take yizhou to a festival, letting her enjoy her favorite artists. the whole time you've spent enjoying the vibe of the festival and swaying with yizhou while you hug her.

she's lovely at singing, you discover through the festival. that night when you drive home you request that she sings more often. she gets bashful at the comments, but sings to you nonetheless. you think you can hear the sound of love through her voice, it brings you to tears.

some nights when you two are too tired to go out for dates, you enjoy drawing with yizhou, letting her creativity run free. she draws these beautifully intricate pieces depicting her thoughts and feelings about herself, or how frustrated she is with the world. you always take the time to listen to her explain each piece, so she awards you with a kiss after each one.

you can feel yizhou getting better over time, how she's more confident in expressing how she feels to you. there's less of a hesitation to explain to you how she's struggling or even to the other three girls.

yizhou's even convinced you to pick up the drums to accompany her playing, she claims you look extra hot with sweaty hair on your face and especially when you look so into it. you laugh at that because it honestly feels like you look like you're drenched in the rain.

she kisses you senseless when you say that, and she comments. "i can't wait to marry you one day. i hope our kids have your perseverance."

you blush at the compliment, thinking about marrying yizhou one day, and honestly yeah, you think you'll have to do it soon.

--

a/n: this was requested by the lovely @torri77, hope it's enjoyable! friendly reminder that addiction is a very real situation, and this is fiction. as always, stay safe and stay healthy, everyone!

#ningning #ningning x reader #aespa ningning #ning yizhou #ning yizhou x reader #aespa x reader #aespa x you #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

[jensettermandu]

-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙡𝙡-

1.4

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𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

wc; 16.8k+

a/n; dubcon aka drunk sex and coercion in the following chapter

[Present]

Jennie tried not to care, she tried to just go on and pretend that she didn't care because she knew that she shouldn't. What she had been living for was mindless sex, she had never looked for anything more than to wet her dick and be on with her life. She had done everything, said I love you, I need you, I care for you, I only want you, and no one ever needed to know whether or not it was true. There was no happiness in her life, not lasting happiness, the temporary was always there. It was all gone now though.

She felt useless, she felt like a loser and she blamed it all on the vixen who walked back into the room.

Y/n threw her phone onto the bed and got on it, Jennie was busy on her phone as Y/n crawled over to the older woman.

"Why do you look so angry?" She questioned as there was a small frown on Jennie's eyebrows and she didn't look up from the phone neither did she answer. The younger girl made it over to Jennie's lap and straddled her. Her eyes scanned the woman who was ignoring her. She had always found her attractive, she loved the sex Jennie provided, and she also liked those sweeter sides of her, but aside from that her personality got rotten at times. Y/n wasn't pointing fingers, she knew she was no better if she was cheating. 

It did make her feel better to know that Jennie was just as horrible. Y/n could feel herself fading right into Jennie and the person that she was. It just started to happen.

"Is it about condoms?"

"The marks?"

"Was I too big of a bitch for your fragile ego?"

"Not letting you take a picture?"

"Or because I said that I wasn't going to fuck you more tonight? Could change..."

Jennie sure was good at ignoring her and giving her the cold shoulder. It didn't hurt Y/n, it irritated her because she knew that Jennie then would come out of nowhere and expect everything.

She leaned in, her lips trailing her ear as she grounded down on Jennie's cock that was stirring to life the second the girl had come to her lap. Jennie was waiting for whatever dirty words she would start spewing, but it didn't turn out how she had hoped–

"You're jealous."

It was a conclusion drawn and it sounded bizarre in her mouth, but it was the only thing that seemed to get the older woman's attention as she looked up from her phone and Y/n pulled back.

"I'm jealous? Of who?" She scoffed and Y/n hummed, running her fingers to Jennie's clavicle that was covered by her shirt. She ran her fingers up, trailing her nails along the side of her neck until she reached her jaw.

"Asher."

Y/n winced, that harsh and familiar grip she had become a victim of multiple times now came to her wrist. It happened in bed, but also outside the bed with no intentions for it to be sexual. It didn't feel fair as Jennie was ten times stronger, Y/n was only 4 inches taller, half a head and always felt in need to submit to her when Jennie used all her advantages on her.

"Of what? His girlfriend is cheating on him, why would I be jealous of being cheated on? He doesn't even have a big enough dick for you to feel good. He can't even touch me with a ten-foot pole because I stand so fucking tall before him." She turned off her phone, her tone held a warning to it. Y/n had tested that tone times before, she ended up losing her voice because of how they started to shout at each other.

"By an inch, don't let it get to your head."

"I'm 6.3. Inch and three." She murmured.

Y/n rolled her eyes, Jennie's fingers digging into her waist where she held the girl. It seemed like her most prized thing was her 6.3-inch dick and Y/n never bothered to ask why she was so specific about it. The woman was a true loser. It made it even harder for Y/n to understand why she was staying. Maybe because they had become so alike that she barely saw a difference between them anymore. Neither of them was better than the other. 

"You know, he maybe can't touch you with a ten-foot pole, but that also applies to you when it comes to me because this is all you get and the second I am with him or talk to him you get like this. That's jealousy if I ever saw it."

"Wanna know something?" Jennie asked and licked her lips, looking up at the girl in her lap. Her hand let go of Y/n's waist and she reached up to the collar of her shirt, bunching it up and pulling her closer. The two of them could hear the threads snapping from the movement that stretched the material.

"What?" Y/n's tone wavered as she looked Jennie right in the eye, being a few inches away. Her breathing was now less shallow as the fears Jennie knew how to work on her were coming to light.

"I own you, I own you because your whole relationship depends on what I do to you."

Y/n's jaw clenched at those words, knowing that Jennie had all the proof she needed to ruin her relationship. She was stuck in the middle, in a place where she had to make a choice but couldn't even if she knew that the right thing was to come clean and break up with Asher and leave Jennie too. 

She hadn't been able to come up with a good enough excuse and she was letting it drag out just for that reason even if she knew that there never would be a good enough reason. He was too good for her. It was a conflict she never should have become part of and now she was stuck with Jennie blackmailing her.

No. Y/n never sent her anything with her face in it or with something that would be able to tell that it was her like any part of her bedroom aside from the plain white sheets.

It didn't mean that Jennie didn't do things without her consent.

She should have known better that the woman would at some point record her committing these sinful crimes, that she would catch Y/n in the City of Sins where she was drowning in her lust and selfishness.

Y/n couldn't do anything, not even take legal action because it would all just backfire.

This was Jennie Kim.

Y/n was too scared to break things off even if she didn't want to. All these reasons to leave, but she still couldn't do it, it seemed like she only needed one to stay and it wasn't even the video that forced her into staying. It was Jennie whenever she wasn't an asshole.

She glanced at the phone that was beside them on the bed, Jennie catching it and a smirk plastered itself on her lips at the fact that she did own the girl in her lap. Y/n couldn't leave her unless she wanted Asher to leave too. She would be left all alone if that happened. 

Y/n hated being left and alone.

Jennie clearly remembers the girl saying it herself. 

"I could delete that one video–completely and not leave a trace of it anywhere. That freedom would feel amazing, wouldn't it Y/n?"

In the end, Y/n always got the short end of the stick with Jennie. She was always the one mocked by the end of the night. She was stuck at a point in her life where life wasn't as enjoyable anymore. Jennie had made it hard and she only had herself to blame. It went away though, it went away with the pills and alcohol and she somehow still dragged herself through school.

Y/n's life was crumbling apart because she had cheated and continuously was. It was crumbling apart because she was fading into Jennie and her lifestyle. Slowly it ate her and at some point, there would be nothing left. She would be all that Jennie was, wouldn't she?

"For what?" It was always a bargain as their eyes gazed into each other. Jennie let go of the girl, her numb fingers coming back to life as the woman fixed her shirt. She leaned in and left a peck on her cheek and Y/n closed her eyes as she grabbed hold of Jennie's shoulders who started to kiss down her neck. Her lips were soft, their touch lingered and tingled her skin, feeling how her toxins seeped through her skin to nestle itself deep within Y/n. It had been going on for so long that without those toxins her body didn't feel right. It was so messed up, wasn't it? Despite not thinking about Jennie, all her body could do was go through withdrawals without Jennie around.

"I already have your dignity don't I? How about you break up with him?"

She quickly grabbed hold of Y/n's wrists again as the girl tried to pull away when Jennie's lips wrapped around the skin. "Fucking stop." It meant nothing. This time she sucked hard and the more Y/n tried to pull away the more trapped she got when Jennie moved forward and pinned her down on the bed with her arms pinned beside her head. The squirming did nothing as her chest heaved while Jennie trailed wet kisses all over the thin skin before she bit down at the juncture between her shoulder and neck.

"I didn't hear you say yes, star," Jennie mumbled and slowly pulled away, her eyes looking at the harsh two marks on the girl–at the juncture and pulse point.

"I'm not fucking breaking up with him, asshole." Y/n spat out and looked at Jennie with a scowl. The way her heart was beating felt uneven, it was the effect of Jennie, it was like drugs and Y/n wanted nothing more than to quit. The longer they stared each other in the eye the more she knew she grew attached and addicted though. She hated the way Jennie looked at her, the way she stared into her eyes, all Y/n wanted to do was push her away every time she did. Jennie wasn't allowed that, she had no place in Y/n's home to look at her that way.

Jennie was the one who started it. She was the only one doing it.

"He might enjoy the video of you sucking dick in the bathroom with your eyes all red from how fucked on drugs you were...His sweet little girl is far from the perfect angel she tries to be."

It was one stupid night where she had lost all sense of awareness. Now it felt like everything depended on it.

It wasn't like that—it was exactly like that, but it used to be different. 

She'd smoke weed now and then and took molly on certain occasions such as festivals. She had tried her fair share of everything, but she had never done it in a way that became routine. The same way Jennie became a routine. It was all destroying her life and she had lost the ladder after the fall.

She wasn't the girl Asher had fallen in love with, that person was buried and Y/n had no clue where. She would dig up her corpse if she knew where she died, but the vixen had no clue. It left her with this new star. The one that was far from who she used to be.

"Fuck me." Y/n finally spoke up and Jennie raised her eyebrows at the request, her dick throbbing in response. She just wanted to forget once again and she could when the brunette was pounding her. All those fears and worries went away because there was nothing to worry about when there was no one to judge. What was seemingly meaningless sex was what her life was becoming. "Fuck me however you like, but just do it." 

Jennie had managed to break her down, there was only so much the girl could take when she was in her chokehold. At some point, she would have to beg Jennie to let her breathe. She had almost broken her to the core and Y/n's put-up walls crumbled as it was hard to keep up with her life that was constantly pacing. 

"Where's the limit?"

"I don't have it aside from protection, more hickeys, or questionable bruising."

Jennie didn't like any of those limitations, but she took what she could.

[Summerfest]

"Y/n, stop," Asher said and pulled her away from him as the girl was trying to pull him down to reach his neck as her head reached to his shoulders. Her hands were at the hem of his pants and before she could reach any further down he grabbed hold of her hands. She frowned, confused about why he was pushing her away when she wanted to give him what they had fought about.

"What is it now?" She whined, being held back from touching him in any other way.

"You're high again, you can't be on E every day." He seriously spoke and Y/n rolled her eyes.

"I'm not on E, come on." She reasoned as she wasn't on ecstasy and he frowned.

"What then?"

"Doesn't matter, but I want you." It truly didn't matter as every day was something different, or she was mixing. Anything as long as it pulled her through her days.

He exhaled deeply and held her hands down when they tried to come back up to him. He didn't fail to notice the look of hurt on her face. It was enough to make him feel terrible, but he couldn't do it.

"You know that I'm not comfortable with doing anything like this in public, baby." The older guy didn't get the response he thought he would get from his girlfriend. The understanding that he always got because that was what she was. What he received was a roll of her eyes filled with annoyance as she pulled her hands out of his light grip and leaned back against the stall. Not taking notice of his hurt, her mind was racing with other things.

"Do you not love me anymore? Or am I not fucking hot enough or what the fuck is it, Ash?" Y/n threw the questions at him, growing insecure over her boyfriend not wanting what he had been complaining about. It didn't make sense if everyone else would throw themselves at her–she'd ignore them aside from one person–but he wouldn't. 

"It's not that–"

"Oh my God, then what is it? You are the one pushing me away. I don't understand this distance."

Y/n knew she was being immature, but only she could know that because only she knew that she was cheating and having these fights with her boyfriend. Jennie knew too, but she didn't know what they looked like. The distance between them no longer made any sense when he was the one making it and not her. She didn't want it unless she was the one who needed it. Only Y/n was supposed to put distance and then pull right back. She hated it when someone pushed her away. It made her scared.

Her life was falling to ruins.

She only had herself to thank for it.

"I think we're in a new place in our relationship, one we haven't been to before and it's not a good phase either...I think we should work it out instead of solving it with sex because that's just a temporary solution."

She didn't like those words at all. All in all, she hoped he would break up with her before he found out, but once those moments came her heart picked up and she got anxious. What he had just said was enough to make her anxious because if they stayed in this place in their relationship, he would most likely leave her. She wanted it, but she also didn't want it. How would she live alone? What if Jennie left too? Y/n was supposed to leave her and stay with Ash.

She hated when someone was about to leave or she thought they were going to, it made her self-destruct and do everything in her power to push them away before they could even try to leave.

"No, that's not—it's not like that at all. You are the one making it difficult when it could be easy. I am right here to solve it, Ash."

"You're not Y/n, you're high and you want sex. I already said no. You're not solving it, you're just going to fuel it further this way and I don't want that for us. Let's just talk it all out when we get back home."

"But–"

Y/n tried to argue about it, she didn't want to wait for him to possibly break up with her once they would be back home.

"Please, baby, I love you and only want this to work out the best for us."

It brought her no reassurance. What if he was lying to make her feel better for now to not ruin her week? Why couldn't he just grab the devil's horns and force it to work instead of trying to find a peaceful way in a warzone?

"Just enjoy the week and I am here if you need anything else."

Y/n walked past him, unlocking the stall before leaving through it. It pissed her off, he always let her walk away, he never did anything to make it work right away but gave it time. She didn't need that. She needed much more than that. What she needed was for someone to just take the lead because she lost it when she had it—someone to decide when she was grounded and when she wasn't. She wanted someone to control everything for her because she never had any control.

Her phone buzzed as she walked out of the bathroom, making her take it out from the black purse before she pushed the sunglasses over her eyes. Her heart was pounding, her body was hot and her energy was up tenfold.

It felt like the only people who checked on her, cared about her and asked where she was were her friends, not her boyfriend and then–

10:12 P.M. Where are you?

Jennie always seemed to care. Y/n knew it wasn't right, but at least she had Jennie's attention on her. She at least asked her where she was, with whom and what she was doing. She wasn't stupid, she knew what Jennie was–it was as if she was some possession to the woman. It was better than nothing. It was what the girl needed. It made her feel better for whatever reason even if she tried to make her change this morning deeming her clothes too revealing if she was going with a boyfriend who couldn't protect her. Maybe it was the thought that counted.

She had never needed that type of control, but she had grown used to it because of the woman and felt lost without it. It was hard to make these decisions on her own now. Jennie had her in such a hold that so much depended on her and Y/n had no clue when she gave her that control. She never did, Jennie just took it. 

10:13 P.M. Leaving

10:13 P.M. Could pick you up There's a private after-party if you want to come with me I'd like that

Y/n agreed this time as Jennie had offered for her to come with her multiple times, but she always declined because she was with her friends and Asher. Not this time. She wanted out before she got too deep into that melancholy she had been running away from for the past months. There was no way that Y/n would face it, she would run and run, those burdens would become bigger and at some point, a tsunami of her problems would crash over her. It would destroy everything more than it already was, but there was no way she would face anything willingly.

She was already living with the fact that she was a cheater and unable to leave someone who was no good for her.

"What the fuck is it now?" Was the first thing Jennie asked when the girl got into the car with so much attitude still lacing her that it knocked the air out of Jennie's lungs. Y/n huffed and removed her purse as she turned to Jennie, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. It was as if she only came to her because she needed someone to put her in her place and Jennie would gladly do that. If she didn't, she would explode.

"I'm sorry, did I get in the car in a way you didn't like?" That was mocking. Jennie knew that.

She sucked air through her teeth as the car started to move. "I don't need you to have an attitude with me when I've been nothing but nice."

"I'm not having an attitude with you. I am genuinely asking you what the problem would be if I just got into the car, Jen. Want me to get the fuck out and enter again?" Y/n snapped, it was routine with Jennie. It was what their relationship built on and it was what worked even if it wasn't working. Even if it wasn't a relationship. It at times felt almost as time-consuming and attention-grabbing as one. She wasn't Asher in the end, and maybe that was what made it so good. Whatever emotions Y/n already felt, Jennie always made them so much stronger, so anger came easily too.

Jennie inhaled deeply before exhaling through her nose.

"Come here." Her tone wavered as she breathed the words out, and she grabbed hold of the girl's thighs. The two were separated with a divider from her driver. The vixen didn't question anything when Jennie pulled her closer before making her lay down. Y/n raised her knees to have space for her long legs on the seat. 

"What did you take?" She asked with a hum, running her fingers along the girl's cheek who fell a hundred floors of attitude, landing right in Jennie's lap who was on her knees on the car's floor since it was spacious. Not only was it spacious, but the girl was worth going down on her knees for.

"Coke like 20 minutes ago," she mumbled, finding herself melting into the touch that she needed. The care and attention that Jennie provided her even if it was in the worst ways possible when she reached into her back pocket. At least she gave her what she needed. It was what Y/n needed, and what Jennie wanted. She hadn't grown addicted to drugs, she had grown addicted to Jennie who had pulled strings like a puppet master just to have control even if the puppet tried to be its own person at times. It was Jennie's poison she had grown addicted to because whenever she tried anything else there was a possibility of leaving, Jennie didn't let that happen.

"You'd almost think I'm religious." She leaned in and pecked Y/n's lips after showing the cross-coke necklace. "It's pure and better than anything else you've tried before, whether with me or someone else." She mumbled, giving her plump and glossy lips another peck before licking off the taste of vanilla that they left on her. Y/n hummed, the coke she had taken was already wearing off and there was Jennie always having everything she needed at the palm of her hand.

Jennie knew that.

Jennie knew what she was doing, she knew what to do to have Y/n dependent on her. How to have her addicted to her. To always come to her. The older woman knew exactly what she was doing when giving the younger girl things only she could give her, things she would come back for. Who else was there if not Jennie? She was enhancing the best feelings, mixing them and creating a euphoria she could only achieve with Jennie.

It wasn't just drugs.

All her problems with her boyfriends. The vixen found herself open in Jennie's arms each time after she would fuck her well enough. Jennie would coax her into letting it all out, into rambling about her problems, every little complaint about Asher, life, friends, or anything. She knew just how to get it out of Y/n. What she did with that was turn it all around and give her the things she lacked. She gave her everything he couldn't.

It would always be Jennie that way.

She watched as Jennie unscrewed it and put the top on the seat. The bitter taste wasn't good at all as it spread on the tip of her tongue, but it didn't matter as she poured a small amount on it. All that taste washed away the second the drugs started to pump through her veins and Jennie loved every moment of it. If it hadn't been for Y/n they would still hold the first place of her favourite things. Things, she owned Y/n. It was her possession after breaking her down into what she wanted her to be. 

Her doll. 

Her star.

Y/n moaned right into her mouth when Jennie leaned down, pushing her tongue into her mouth and sharing that bitter taste with Y/n who sucked on her tongue. It made Jennie get up more on her knees and push her tongue further into Y/n's warm and slick mouth. The vixen held onto the sides of her neck, nails gently scratching along her skin while her body fell into bliss. Their noses brushed and Jennie with a huff through it turned her head more and made sure Y/n got as much as possible as she let the girl swallow her tongue. The sucking on it was stirring her cock awake.

"Fuck–" Y/n breathed out when the older woman pulled away, making sure to lick up any of the leftover spit on Y/n's plump lips.

Jennie reached for the sunglasses on top of Y/n's head. Her eyes looked into Y/n's blown ones, their hearts slowly picking up, especially Y/n's who had a lower tolerance and the coke Jennie had shoved into her mouth was strong. It was so good, these good feelings were almost the only ones she could associate with Jennie as she always ended up too fucked up to remember the rest. Why would she dwell in the bad when the good was also there? There was no need for balance or in-between because the high highs and low lows sufficed.

"You're so fucking hot." Jennie groaned out, looking at the girl whose chest was heaving and whose eyes were searching for nothing. Her mouth went numb and the euphoria came right back before it had the chance to disappear. Jennie brought her to different types of highs. She loved them all. Only Jennie had been able to bring her to such highs and it made it that much harder to leave. What if she would never get to experience them again if she left Jennie?

Her eyes scanned over what the high girl was wearing as she had already seen her once today in these clothes. She could look at her all day. She usually did as she had followed all of Y/n's socials with her private account. Dressed in calf-high black boots, a black tube top that showed off most of her slim stomach, accentuating her tiny waits more and stopped just where her boobs started with a tight mini skirt of black denim that showed off her long legs. The most coverage was the racer jacket Jennie had forced on her not caring about what she would say to her friends if they asked where she got it from. She wouldn't let her walk out without it unless she was there too. However, looking at the vixen, Jennie was growing hard.

Y/n bit her lower lip as Jennie grabbed hold of the top and pulled it down under her chest, revealing the strapless push-up bra under it. Her chest was still heaving and she watched the powder that Jennie tapped out of the small necklace onto her cleavage. It stuck to her skin which was warm from the drugs and Jennie who wrapped around her like a blanket and kept her safe. These things had turned into her safe space.

"If it weren't for the party I would be fucking you right now." Y/n's hands tangled into Jennie's hair, biting down harder on her lower lip as Jennie snorted it off of her skin, hands firmly gripping onto her waist. It was twisting in Jennie who held back a moan as her cock strained, the stimulation always came to a peak with Y/n and drugs. Her fingers dug into Y/n's waist who pushed her chest more into her face with her grip tight on her hair. Thighs clenched at how it spread over her skin which had become more sensitive to touch because of the coke. It was all warm and comforting.

It made Y/n hum when the warm tongue ran over her skin, licking up any leftover of the powder.

She planted a few kisses over Y/n's chest, gently sucking to not leave marks, and nuzzling her face into the small but perfect breasts. Her hands caressed the skin that was scorching under her touch before she pulled away sniffling as it all travelled down her nose and to the back of her throat. 

It made it feel numb and swollen as she couldn't feel the roof of her mouth. If there was something that Jennie did love, it was drugs, sex, and alcohol together with parties. She wiped her nose, closing the coke cross and putting it back into her back pocket before getting back up and pulling up the light girl and helping her fix the top.

"How is it?" She asked while putting on the sunglasses on Y/n's nose, covering the blown pupils for now just in case while taking her own that were discarded on the seat beside her. She snivelled as she tapped at her nose, wiping it again and clearing her numb throat as her heart was pounding. "Great, just what I needed." It was as if a different person was clinging onto Jennie than the girl who had entered the car. The woman grabbed hold of the sneaky fingers tracing the outline of her cock she decided she would have to tuck in before they arrive.

The party had been held at a private club, restricted for anyone who wasn't invited or a plus one. It was filled with people of Jennie's status, certain celebrities, models, and a few people of Y/n's status of being an anonymous person with a private life. 

What Y/n knew was that whenever she went with Jennie to these things, first of all, the woman made sure she stayed with her, second, the alcohol never seemed to end, third, neither did the drugs, fourth, fourth were the corners, bathrooms and private places she would get dragged to by Jennie and the people she would run into there. 

It was almost sad, but now that she was dragged into it too, she understood why people chose to drown in this rather than swim against the current that life was.

What she could remember after swallowing tequila like water was that she got dragged into a bathroom. By then the vixen was already slurring words and stumbling over her own feet, being guided by Jennie who made sure to let her re-dose on the white powder every 30 to 60 minutes. It was like clockwork, one person left a bathroom and the next came in without any blockades.

The billionaire was in a state that wasn't sober, but she was fine with walking without walking into everything and everyone unless someone held her. The woman was so used to them that she knew how to work around these complications they caused. Their effect wasn't as strong and any higher doses would end with death. She was making sure to take care of Y/n the whole night and she did. She loved how the vixen loved what she loved and didn't hesitate to do these things. It was exactly who she wanted.

She could remember the woman holding Y/n'a nostril closed with the snuff spoon under her other one before taking what she was handed and sniffing it without a second thought. It hadn't been registering in her head either way as she could have been told to sniff poison and she would as her judgement was impaired together with everything else. However, she didn't want anything else than to get lost in the night and get fucked over to a different universe on drugs and alcohol that she had grown even more fond of.

That seemed to be the last straw for her body though as the last thing she could remember after that was how she in the same bathroom got pushed onto her knees with Jennie's zipper flying open. "You're my fucking star, Y/n, fuck, I can make you a star." Those were the last words she could pinpoint she heard somewhere along the way of having Jennie's cock stuffed down her throat while giving her a messy blowjob from the state she had been in.

She simply blacked out at that moment. It left her with a loss of memory from the night aside from the way there in the car, the first few shots, and then being dragged to the bathroom and shoved onto her knees.

That was all she could summarise when she opened her eyes and was in the bed of the hotel room. It was like a time skip because of the gap in her memories. Her world was still spinning, still somewhat under the influence of things only God had the answer to. Her mind dissociated and nothing felt real as she looked around the room with her head pounding and such thirst that it was close to drawing tears. Her body hurt and it usually did because being a messy and destructive drunk came with its cons.

She was naked and only glanced over her shoulder at Jennie who was holding her close, her hot breath fanning the back of her neck as the woman was just as naked. She could tell that they had sex, but she couldn't remember it as she hadn't been conscious, she had been, but not conscious enough to remember. She assumed that she had been asking for it.

She reached for her phone to see it was 3 P.M. and her world was still spinning. It left her extremely confused, having no clue when they got back, how, and what more happened.

"Are you alright?"

Jennie's voice was in a rasp as she mumbled into Y/n's neck, her hands caressing the girl's stomach gently as she snuggled closer to her. Y/n couldn't even care anymore, she couldn't even tell if she was real at the moment or not, let alone would she care about Jennie cuddling her. It was comforting at the moment because it made the anxiety of being dissociated go away. It let her hold on to the reality it felt like she was losing touch with.

"Just thirsty," Y/n mumbled, dropping the phone back onto the mattress where she had texts from her friends and boyfriend. None of them seemed to matter when she was with Jennie as she forgot them.

"I will get you everything in...five minutes."

Y/n hummed at that as she wouldn't have to move to do it herself because she was sure she would throw up if she did.

"When did we get back and did we have sex?"

Jennie lifted her head at that and peeked over Y/n's shoulder, the girl was just staring ahead without anything particular covering her face, she looked impassive. She looked numb and Jennie knew that it was the come down from all the drugs and booze she had consumed. She hadn't stopped her, more so given her more or encouraged her to take more. She enjoyed Y/n both sober and fucked up on drugs and alcohol. It was better with her than when Jennie did these things alone. She knew it was all catching up to Y/n though.

"You're not mad that we did? You were begging and whining for it, I couldn't deny you and it was 5 am when we got back." Jennie replied, worried the girl would get angry. Neither of them had been in a sober state, but Y/n had been way worse. Her palm continued to soothe Y/n's thin stomach, ready to tend to whatever needs she would have during a day that would be a hassle to pull through.

It was enough to let Y/n know that Jennie hadn't even been close to as lost in the substances as she ended up being.

"No, as long as I am not unconscious," Y/n replied as despite it all she trusted Jennie not to take that type of advantage of her. That she wouldn't get on her unless she was asking for it simply because she wouldn't be able to fight back. It wasn't like she would remember if she would be blackout drunk, or maybe she would. She didn't care anymore, she couldn't find the will to care at the moment. Blackout drunk was most likely the same as being unconscious. Jennie couldn't have known if she was or not.

Yn had lost the will to care a while ago, there was a reason why she took drugs and alcohol without caring whether she would overdose at some point or not. The will to live was fading much quicker with each passing day. An overdose sounded like a dream come true. She loved what she had been consumed in, but she also hated it and at times wanted her old life back which Y/n knew she couldn't have back.

She turned to her back and Jennie pushed herself up, propping her head up on her palm as she rested against her elbow. Her eyes looked over Y/n's face before meeting her eyes when she tilted her head up to look at her. Her eyes were glossy from what she had been consuming.

She only hoped that Jennie wouldn't want anything in return for what she had been offering to Y/n. It wasn't like she was leeching or using Jennie, the woman just offered it all to her and dragged her along. Most of the time Y/n didn't even have the time to think or say no. In the same way, she hadn't had another choice but to stay with Jennie and she wasn't spending any money on anything because the older woman insisted on every little expense.

The vixen assumed that giving her her body sufficed. It had always worked as currency.

"I will get you that water," Jennie said and leaned down, kissing her forehead before she moved to get out of the bed, much less hungover and on a less extreme sugar crush than Y/n was on. The woman was already used to it.

[Hours prior, during the night]

The only thing loud for Jennie was her heart as it would always beat so hard, it felt like with each beat it would slowly rip out of her chest. It still felt warm, it squeezed and all that blood ran warm in her body, leaving it clammy, but it was like a fuzzy comfort blanket. She wouldn’t trade these feelings for the world, she wouldn’t give up drugs for the world. They were her world and unless something managed to replace them they would stay forever.

The music outside the restroom was making the door vibrate. These parties could end careers, but she loved showing up to every single one of them. She used to love them even more when she would be fucking girl after girl at them. Now the only girl she would love until she would have her release was in the restroom with her. She wasn’t leaving after either, but that didn’t mean that she loved her. Y/n wasn’t drugs or alcohol, but she still somehow worked on Jennie quite similarly as Jennie had grown addicted to her.

Just like when Jennie wouldn’t be able to take drugs or alcohol for a couple of hours and would think about them until she got them, she would think only about Y/n when she no longer was there.

Aside from that Jennie’s cock had been straining against her pants extra badly now after pulling Y/n to the bathroom. There was something so mesmerising about seeing a girl who used to be everything good, be everything bad just because of Jennie. To see something she made. This was her work of art. She went from moderately corrupted when they first met to severely corrupted and the billionaire loved every second of it.

That was why she couldn’t help herself but shove Y/n down onto her knees in the bathroom they were in.

“Jen–”

“No, no, stay down, Y/n…” She held Y/n down by her head, the girl looking up at her through her lashes with her lower lip jutting out. The marble was cold under her knees and her world was spinning. It was making Jennie that much more eager when Y/n was looking up at her while on her knees. There was something so vulnerable in her when she was on her knees which left the woman in control. 

She let go of her head and her hands started to fumble with her pant buttons and zipper. It tugged the corners of her lips up when Y/n’s fingers hooked at the hem of her pants and she tugged them down just enough. “Show how much you love my cock, doll, show me how much you appreciate it.” Jennie encouraged, wanting the girl to worship her and her cock as she threaded her fingers through Y/n’s hair while she leaned against the counter behind her for balance.

Her chest heaved as Y/n leaned in, her plump lips gently pressing themselves along the outline of her cock. The precum smeared through the white fabric and Jennie hummed, sucking in her bottom lip as Y/n kissed her cock through the material. The white fabric was getting stained by Y/n’s lip gloss, leaving prints of her pinkish lips along them. Her dick was hurting from how much she wanted to be inside her mouth that teased through the boxers.

However, Y/n’s kisses stopped and the girl groaned with her eyes closed and forehead resting against Jennie’s thigh. It made the woman suck air through her teeth and she grabbed hold of Y/n’s hair, bunching it up and pulling her back to see the frown on her face.

“Suck it or I will find someone else to do it and leave you behind for someone else to do whatever they want.” Y/n was in no state to deny her, especially not when she barely knew people at this place and anything could happen to her when she could barely tell left from right. With not much choice left she tried to gather herself and push everything else aside to please Jennie who in the end has been taking care of her even if that had left Y/n barely sitting up.

Jennie pushed her boxer briefs down, taking out her scalding cock while still holding onto Y/n because the girl kept losing balance. Her dick was hard, ready to explode as she had been waiting to at least get it sucked since they were in the car. She stroked down, shivering at her touch and she held it at the base. “Show me your tongue, baby.” She encouraged, biting her lower lip as she used her length and tapped it against the girl’s cheek a few times. It was sending waves of pleasure through her body when she slapped it against her cheek, leaving her precum on it before she moved down further to Y/n’s lips.

Her lips parted when Y/n opened her warm mouth, sticking her slick tongue out. She held onto Jennie’s thigh for balance, her other hand coming up to the woman’s cock as she replaced Jennie’s hand with her own. With a shaky breath, Jennie tightened her grip on Y/n’s hair, her other hand gripped onto the edge of the counter as she swallowed down her numb throat. The girl’s plump lips wrapped around her tip, teasing her slit with her tongue, gathering her precum and swirling around her. It continued as she sucked on the swollen and sensitive tip that was twitching each time she ran her tongue over her slit.

Her throbbing cock got engulfed further into Y/n’s mouth, a moan falling from Jennie’s lips who let her head fall back. It was making her dizzy with the alcohol and drugs, the pleasure being tenfold and better than anything else she’s ever had because Y/n worked her cock so well. She wished she could have her dick shoved in her mouth for hours as the messy slurping and moans from Y/n filled the echoing bathroom. If only Jennie had the whole night, which she did, but not in this bathroom.

“God, I have to lend your mouth, Y/n and you have to take it because we don’t have time.” Jennie sighed and looked down in a haze as her vision was blurring from the way Y/n suckled on her tip. The vixen’s cheek hollowed around her length, and Jennie’s stomach flexed at the feeling and sight. Though Y/n tried to protest as lending her mouth to Jennie meant a sore throat, the woman was much quicker as she already had hold of the girl’s hair.

“So good, your mouth is so good, doll face.” Jennie praised, slowly moving her hips and inching her cock further inside the girl’s mouth who tried her best to breathe. It was quite literally almost impossible as her nose was stuffy from the coke and now she had a cock slowly being shoved down her throat, the pace only picking up. Her eyes were glued to Y/n who was barely keeping hers open, tears spilling down the sides and her spit smearing down her chin. All she did was provide her mouth to the woman, pressing her tongue to the underside of the cock that was hard and throbbing in her mouth, tracing the pulsating vein while giving Jennie the suction she required.

It was followed by the sound of gagging when her dick at last hit the back of her throat, Y/n having no way of opening her throat for her because of how she was fucking her mouth. Her hands gripped Jennie’s thighs for support to not lose her wavering balance and her eyes closed at the spinning. The billionaire hissed, nails dug into her thighs and she pulled her cock out of Y/n’s mouth, the only thing connecting them was the saliva from her red and swollen tip and the girl’s wet lips.

“I need to breathe asshole.” Y/n rasped, eyes on the floor as it was moving under her, the alcohol making it hard to even sit.

“You got to breathe, now warm it again,” Jennie ushered, slapping her wet cock against Y/n’s cheek again, too eager to wait for the girl. She was close and wanted to fuck it right down her throat. It made her bite back a smile when Y/n took her back into her mouth, looking up at her for a split second with her red eyes and blinking them. It was enough to let Jennie know that she could use her however she liked to.

Her hips worked, the girl holding onto her thigh while the other gripped Jennie’s ass which flexed with each thrust. The vixen moaned, opening her throat just for Jennie who almost tumbled at the feeling of her cock being buried in the confines of the tight throat when Y/n loosened it for her. Her hand just then stumbled upon her phone on the counter and seeing that Y/n was too occupied with sucking her dick and being wasted she grabbed it without a second thought.

“God, you’re never leaving, not gonna let you when your mouth works me so well.” She mumbled under her breath, Jennie’s moans breathy and needy for release. “I own you.” Her hand pushed back Y/n’s hair, pulling it away from her face and capturing the girl taking her cock into her mouth like she was made for it, as this wasn’t the old Y/n anymore. Her eyes were red and filled with tears, the only thing keeping her makeup in place was how it was waterproof. The dark-haired girl quickly bobbed her head, slowing down before picking up, and then taking Jennie back into her throat all while her spit was spilling. The motions were making Jennie's thighs tremble.

Jennie couldn’t pinpoint if she ever had seen the girl so fucked up, sucking dick in a bathroom while flying above clouds. She couldn’t even think that far as her mind was going blank from Y/n’s mouth.

“You’re my fucking star, Y/n.”

Her hips stuttered, her member throbbing on Y/n’s tongue who did her best to take Jennie in her mouth. Only stopping for a few seconds every time she reached her pelvis, nose tickling Jennie’s skin when she deep-throated her over and over. Her dick pulsating, her tip twitching when she squeezed it with her throat, having her in a chokehold before she sucked right back to her tip with hollowing cheeks. The motion was repeated until Jennie’s legs would go numb.

The woman knew that her cock was the only one the girl could properly deep throat as she reached her throat, unlike her waste of a boyfriend.

“Fuck, I can make you a star…”

Her lips parted, gasps falling from her mouth as her breathing got heavier. Jennie’s body convulsed into Y/n, her hips pushing themselves as far as they could and the moan was a breathless whimper from how it stole her voice, her body shaking. It filled her vision with white dots and she by some miracle didn’t fall over as her balls tightened, Y/n was able to feel Jennie’s cock grow harder on her tongue–giving her no time to pull away–before cum started to shoot into her mouth. The woman’s hips bucked one last time, emptying every little drop of salty cum into Y/n’s mouth, her shirt sticking to her back from how hot it all got her from the sex to the drugs and everything else in between.

Without thought Jennie pushed the girl away from her and leaned back against the counter, making sure to put her phone away before the coughing girl could question her. Whether or not Y/n was aware wasn’t Jennie’s problem, the woman holding on to not fall over. It made the girl fall back against her palms at the harsh treatment as she felt used for Jennie's pleasure She leaned forward again at what Jennie had done in her mouth, the brunette knowing well what Y/n liked and disliked.

“What’re you doing?” It somehow pissed her off to see the girl spit it all out, her cum splattering with spit against the black marble of the floor. Her hands worked on stuffing her cock back into her boxers and zipping up her pants. It always just stirred something in her when she was under the influence and things weren’t going the way she wanted them to be. Y/n always knew how to stir her on and do whatever she pleased and not what Jennie pleased.

“Do you hear me?” Jennie’s voice was rigid as she was serious and crouched down right in front of Y/n. The girl snivelled and looked up at Jennie with eyes full of tears that had yet to dry and she cupped Y/n’s face with her one hand. “I’ve told you before that when you come to me, you listen to me, Y/n.” She mumbled, her thumb running over Y/n’s lips and gathering whatever was left on them, knowing very well that the girl hated the taste. The words had to be enough to remind the vixen of the consequences and how Jennie could react when she was challenged. 

“I don’t like it, Jen.” Y/n’s voice was a rasp, her head heavy in Jennie’s palm as she held onto her forearm to steady herself and not fall over. The woman knew what the girl was feeling, she had felt it all before when she had just started, and she knew how lost Y/n felt. She knew that if she asked her where she was right now she wouldn’t be able to provide a concrete answer. Jennie was at least there to take care of her, Jennie never had anyone to take care of her. In Jennie’s opinion, Y/n was lucky, but ungrateful by doing this when the woman was there to take care of her when no one else would. She could at least swallow.

“Learn to like it.” She pushed her thumb between the girl’s lips, fingers holding her jaw to make sure she would stay. The vixen winced yet took her thumb into her mouth, cleaning whatever cum was on it despite not being able to stand the taste. “So pretty,” Jennie mumbled and pulled her thumb out of Y/n’s mouth and she swallowed, knowing that it would anger her otherwise. This whole ordeal had been a problem for a while and finally, Jennie was getting Y/n to listen and do as she said. Her lips twitched into a smile at how ruined Y/n was, how she broke her, and now she got to hold her.

“Let’s go.” Jennie huffed and got up on her feet, grabbing hold of Y/n’s hands and with ease pulling her up on her feet. The girl stumbled into Jennie, her body weight being held up by the woman who held her arms wrapped around Y/n’s waist. She let them go down further, grabbing hold of her ass under the skirt with her lips finding Y/n’s neck. Jennie took in the girl’s scent before sucking on the skin that was soft and smooth, squeezing her ass while pulling away. “We have to get back out.” She grumbled and helped Y/n stand on both feet, making sure to fix her hair and wipe away the mess, leaving a peck on her lips to then drag her back out. her toy, her doll.

They left the bathroom perfectly fine, going right back out to the party, occasionally finding the way right back to the restroom for more empty lines of white which they didn't have to know how to read to understand. Despite the blinding lights, the doors to the city were closed and whatever they wanted to do they were trapped right there together which only meant bad news if one pissed off the other. And so it did start because it always did with them both.

It was easy to get lost in everything as things got blinding, Jennie’s eyes felt sensitive and dry the longer she stayed on the couch. It was all a blur and she had spent hours she assumed just on the couch with people surrounding her. It was hard to pinpoint if time went by or not because it felt like it was flying by while she was stuck in the same place. The woman had been so zoned out and busy with someone else that she never realised where Y/n was.

Enough made her forget about everything except for what was right in front of her.

There was a reason why she kept Y/n by her side, especially if she brought her to a party.

Y/n outdid the models.

Y/n dressed in a way that made Jennie’s dick throb and she didn’t mind her dressing that way, but only if she was there to make sure no one else was trying to touch what she wanted to possess.

The vixen’s features, her allure, it was all sex, or maybe that was all Jennie could think. What did that change when they were at a private afterparty where already questionable enough things were happening?

“Listen–” Jennie started, grabbing hold of her manager and pulling the younger one down to speak in her ear. There was a slight wobble in Jennie as things were like a rollercoaster and she had nothing to secure her. It was just a matter of time before she would get completely off the rails. A matter of time until a loop would come and she would get sent flying. “Where is she?” She asked, bunching the material in her fist as she pulled on the woman’s shirt because there was a wave of anger bubbling inside her, crashing against her insides to escape. Things weren’t how she wanted them. She wanted Y/n right beside her, sitting and not running off the leash unless Jennie said so.

The lack of control was like small ants that crawled over her body and she couldn’t shake them off.

“The back I think?” Jennie shoved her away with a huff, putting her hands inside her pockets to not shove anyone else as she walked through what felt like endless bodies that blurred in her peripheral vision. It felt like it was taking too long, the club not coming to an end until it did and she reached the back of it. 

She opened the door to the stairwell that led downstairs of the club and also to the back entrance of it. It was lit by neon purple, making her eyes squint for a second at how bright it was compared to where she had been just now. The powdery scent of the fogger fluid that came from the smoke machines was faint as the stairwell wasn't dim with the smoke either, the scent of aftershave was much stronger when a man passed by her.

All the giggles, talking, and whatnot were like a trigger in her head as she knew that among these people scattered along the stairs was Y/n. Jennie walked down the wide stairs, getting further down. It wasn’t long until her eyes fell on Y/n.

The vixen was sitting on the stairs with a guy towering right over her with a smile on his lips as he stood a few steps below to match her height. Both hands held him up by the railing on each side and the last straw was when he let go with one hand and cupped her face. The vixen tilted her head back without hesitation to make it easier for him to reach down to her when he started to lean down.

Was Y/n the same person that Jennie was? It wasn’t like that was the point when she decided to break her down into parts and put them back together but leaving the ones she didn't want behind. Of course, that ended with an imperfect doll because parts were missing, but those imperfections were what made her perfect in Jennie's eyes-

However, when she did that the point was to make a doll for Jennie to play with, to own, her doll, not one that would learn from her and act just like her. Y/n was supposed to be with her, only see her and not forget everything else the second someone else said hello and she was wasted enough. She wasn’t supposed to forget Jennie when someone else walked up to her. She wasn't supposed to be like a stray, that was only for Jennie.  

Jennie was supposed to be the one seeing other women, especially when Y/n wasn’t with her. It was all somehow turned around because Jennie could barely get hard unless she was blackout drunk and unable to think because then she wasn’t even able to remember her name let alone Y/n’s. Yet the roles were reversed and Jennie was suffering because of it. 

If it hadn’t been for the railing Jennie would be tumbling down the stairs, but her feet quickly let her get to them and she grabbed hold of his shirt. Her only advantage was her money in this case, aside from the fact that she got to be taller when standing further up the stairs. Advantage money, she had guards following after her that he didn’t have.

“What’re you trying to do? Forcing yourself on a wasted girl?” Jennie knew what type of bullshit she was spewing. If she hadn’t been angry and she and Y/n would be away from everyone else she would be ramming her cock inside her. All she needed was a reason for him to leave her. All she needed was for something to validate her anger and start pouncing the guy if he gave her the chance by furthering her anger. She usually went for someone weaker to get her anger out without taking any damage herself. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” He tried to push her away, but Jennie shoved him first, the guy stumbling into the wall and grabbing hold of the railing to not fall down the stairs.

“Don’t fucking touch her again, moron–I will get you kicked out and fucking blacklisted from every single club you see.” She bellowed, two men coming down right behind her and the guy tried to argue when they grabbed him to pull him away before Jennie would get hurt. Her fists clenched and she looked at the girl she stood two steps below. Y/n groaned, her face resting in her palms and Jennie’s nose twitched in anger.

“We’re leaving,” Jennie said and Y/n heaved a sigh, looking up from her hands at the ordr. Her impassive face turned into one that smiled at Jennie as she scoffed a chuckle.

“What’s your actual problem?” Y/n questioned with her tone a rasp, eyes trying to focus on Jennie's face. 

The woman tried to reach for Y/n’s hand, grabbing her wrist that the girl slid right out of her hold before she could tighten in. That pain was always numbing, it bruised her, and the previous bruise had yet to disappear. Jennie’s eyes squinted in anger and she grabbed the railing before leaning closer to Y/n. The girl flinched, this time the grip didn’t come to her wrist, but she grabbed her by her hair, forcing Y/n to look her in the eye, making sure she would do so when her forehead pressed against the vixen's forehead hard enough to make her head throb.

“I said, we’re leaving.” She could hear the tremble in the breath Y/n let out. Jennie wasn’t hurting her, no, she was just making sure that Y/n knew where her place was and that she stayed where she was meant to be. There was no reason for her to reach further than Jennie allowed. What if Y/n would reach further and leave? Her hand came up to Jennie’s wrist who only tightened her grip on the girl’s hair. Y/n was supposed to stay below Jennie who would only give her bits and pieces of freedom to have the girl depending on her unless she wanted to live a cold and empty life.

Those were emotions in Y/n’s glazed eyes, emotions Jennie didn’t care about when hers were winning. Jennie wasn't one to stop because someone was crying or dying. “Get up. It will end worse otherwise.” Her tone wavered, yet it was harsh enough to cut through the skin. It was as if she was spewing shards of glass, cutting right through Y/n’s flawless skin and leaving her to bleed. The woman did everything to scar Y/n's skin because she always left her mark, she always made sure she would be remembered.

Jennie could tell how lost Y/n was, it gave Jennie a free pass. How much would Y/n remember? Jennie could feel that she was the one supporting Y/n from how she was barely sitting up, her weight leaned against Jennie. She was drunk, and high which Jennie was too, but Y/n was a lightweight when it came to tolerance. It was like a free pass to murder someone, but this time to have Y/n at her mercy.

“Let go of me, Jennie.” Yet Y/n wasn’t as tameable as Jennie wanted her to be. She was her doll, but it was a doll that wanted to come to life and be her own person. Y/n fought back, Y/n liked to dig her own grave, Y/n liked the pain, she loved getting hurt, and she was in love with the pain. Jennie gave it all to her. Jennie would continue to feed her the pain she loved so much because Y/n always ran back for more. She had the girl running back to her.

“Get the fuck up, Y/n. We’re fucking leaving or I will fucking throw you down these stairs and drag you to the car.” Jennie had never figured out where that anger came from. Where it got brewed. It was like it tingled through her body, if she didn’t let out these words, she would take it out physically. That was where Y/n was different for her because Jennie didn’t hurt her more than this. That made Jennie a good person in her mind, she was good to Y/n in her opinion. She was good if she went out of her way to not hurt her more physically like she did with everyone else who was much weaker. It always made her feel more powerful.

That anger was always so overwhelming and it was just there.

There was a tremble in Y/n’s jaw, Jennie caught it together with how deeply she inhaled the thick air of the club. Everyone minded their business, walking up and down the stairs, passing them, and leaving them in their world. The one the vixen had been invited to and willingly stepped inside for the gates to get locked behind her. The one she couldn't escape even if she wanted to. It had everything she needed. It had Jennie, it was free of shame, judgement, and pain that was different from the one Jennie caused.

What else was Y/n supposed to do?

She got out of Jennie’s grip because the woman let go of her otherwise she would be stuck. Jennie grabbed her forearm and pulled her up on her feet. There would always be that one person who would be stronger mentally, and physically, and Jennie would always take advantage of that position in her relationship with Y/n who had let her walls down and showed her weaknesses because she trusted Jennie. 

She trusted her.

They made it out of the club, the music was muffled just like their ears. The air cooled down their warm bodies and Jennie was looking for rational reactions. Y/n’s arm slipped right out of her hold once again. A grip that Jennie did not like to lose. She needed it to know she had control.

“Stop fucking playing around Y/n!” Jennie’s voice boomed through the empty back of the club that was only for private guests to come and leave. She turned right around and looked at the girl. The car already waited on them, but neither of them was heading inside until they blew off everything first. At least blow off some of it.

“Stop being on my fucking ass then. Why would you fucking act like that?”

Jennie had so many reasons to do that. If Y/n was acting broken in a way that she didn’t like she would fix her to her desires. Jennie would throw her against the wall, and destroy her, knowing Y/n would lay and wait for her, and Jennie would always go back to fix her after, only to throw her against the wall again, leaving Y/n dependent on being fixed by the only person who knew how to fix her. The person who destroyed her was the one who fixed her. That was why it was worth staying despite the low lows of lying on a cold floor, drowning in tears, but they got wiped away after.

“Why? You come here with me and do what? Why the fuck were you with him!?” Jennie’s voice was a rasp as she raised it even more, coming right back to Y/n as they stood right in front of each other. Her chest was heaving, anger coursing through her veins with everything else she had consumed tonight. These things all together were the worst combination that brought out worse in her than Y/n managed. Y/n only stirred it on and made it worse, making something ugly even uglier.

“I’m going to do what I fucking please to do. What does it matter to you when you are sitting and talking to a bunch of girls either way? They could keep you company, so what do you need me for?” 

It was fine for Jennie to do though, not Y/n. The woman scowled at the comparison as she was supposed to be allowed to do whatever she wanted. Jennie had always done what she pleased. She had money and could get away with so much, being with a bunch of women was the least problematic thing that she enjoyed. It was free too because they always came to her. Jennie wanted everything without needing to give anything back.

“Were you going to cheat on your boyfriend?”

It didn’t matter though, it was better to twist it and bring all the shame on Y/n who was cheating on her boyfriend. Jennie could just redirect all the fire and not have her mistakes pointed out when she could point out Y/n’s beautiful flaws instead. There was no shame though because neither of them cared about the actual boyfriend, but only each other.

She couldn’t help but love those flaws because they were so perfect even if they fueled a fire in her. A fire, it fueled a fire, and it kept Jennie warm so what did it matter if they fought? At least they kept each other warm in a fire that was out of control and destroying everyone on the way. They somehow found beauty in the ugly and flawed. All that burned land only made space for them to start building their own world and make it, however, they wanted it to look, building it off of each other's flaws, sticking it all together even if it didn't go together. It was kintsugi with broken pieces that they made beautiful.

The words seemed to flip something in Y/n.

“I am already cheating on him you crazy fucking bitch!” The girl’s hands came up to her head in disbelief at what Jennie was saying before she dropped them. It was making her jittery too, unable to just stand there and look at Jennie. It was hard to look at Jennie, the woman was aware of it as her flaws were so imperfect it made the eyes hurt, but Y/n at least took off her glasses just for her. She took them off and she ignored all of those flaws because she decided to not see them. What was a flaw if Y/n couldn't see it because she bluntly decided to ignore it?

“Don’t fucking yell at me like that.” Jennie tried to drown out Y/n’s voice, gripping the slim girl's jacket to turn her right back to her when Y/n tried to turn and walk off the anger. The older one looked at the girl who had tears in her eyes from frustration, unable to take out her anger which resulted in tears as she couldn’t result in anger like Jennie would do. Y/n was too scared, Jennie was aware, she was too scared to go that far and always ended up crying in their toxin-filled dynamic. The girl didn't hold back on her tears, she didn't try to hold them back to look strong because she knew that there was no point in trying to hide the truth from someone who already knew it.

“What’re you going to do about it, Jennie? Throw me down what fucking stairs you cunt?” Y/n spat out, her voice thick from the lump in her throat that was getting coated in tears, trying to dig its way out of her throat. She was barely registering what was around her. Her legs were so unstable she was stumbling while standing still, her only support was Jennie, her only support in more ways than one. It was her only safety net.

She couldn’t even remember who exactly it was Jennie was talking about as the most she could remember was what happened five minutes ago and that was Jennie saying she would push her down the stairs. Y/n was just fighting because Jennie was fighting, and she would go on even if she forgot the point because she wasn’t just going to cave.

The two of them could go on for days.

They could butt heads for days even if neither would remember the point.

“Shut the fuck up. It’s not my fault you act like a fucking whore and would fuck just anyone now.” Jennie growled, her fist twisting the material of her jacket that Y/n had on, fists pressing into Y/n’s chest who grabbed hold of her forearms to not lose balance. Her tears only being a mere reflection of her emotions, not being able to tell the actual pain behind them. The thought was irking Jennie further on, she was adding fuel to her own fire now. Those small threads were snapping quicker and quicker and soon enough nothing would hold her back from hurting the girl unless she would somehow talk herself into not doing it.

“You’re acting as if you don’t get your dick sucked by a different girl every day.” Y/n let out in disbelief, her tears falling heavily from her eyes, salty on her flawless skin. They were harsh though, they would stain and hurt her, and they were like cyanide every time Jennie caused them. They only hurt when they were caused by the woman who was able to make her feel so much. 

“That’s fucking different!” She trashed the jacket, yanking Y/n into herself whose nails were digging into the skin of Jennie’s forearms. The pain that was caused was easing the pain she wanted to cause. Her breathing fell ragged and her eyes wide with anger, it was spasming her muscles. It was like a twitch and she would end up doing something she didn’t want to.

“How?” Y/n pressed through the sob as she was breaking into pieces, Jennie continuously throwing her into the wall without giving her a break. Without stopping for a second to let her breathe, to maybe fix something before it would become unfixable.

“Because I don’t want you to see anyone else. Asher is enough even if you should fucking leave him. If you cheat on him, you cheat with me, no one else, no one else touches you except me and me only. I will fucking kill whoever else you let inside you and then fucking kill you too. You hear me!?” She screamed right in her face after pulling her into herself even more. It unclogged Y/n’s eardrums as she could feel Jennie shove her knuckles into her clavicles. Jennie threw out the words from anger as they were the first thing on her mind. Her words vibrated through Y/n's body, burying themselves deep inside her marrow, each little word touching her soul, bruising it.  

Now Jennie couldn’t recognize herself anymore because she never cared. It twisted her stomach in the worst way possible. Those words were not Jennie, not the ones about caring if anyone else touched Y/n. None of this should have bothered her to begin with but it did. It did so badly that she was fighting about something she had never fought about before. These were things she was so unfamiliar with that it scared her and she couldn't predict how she would act the further she stepped into that unfamiliar territory. 

Y/n shoved Jennie away who stumbled, her legs barely keeping her up and she caught herself on the new model of the black Rover that waited on them. The vixen flinched at the sound when Jennie’s fist collided with the door's body, it buckled and she hit it right again after. It let her take out her anger as she gritted her teeth and her fist was going numb when she hit it again. Taking out the anger she felt towards herself for caring when she didn’t want to care. Jennie never did because she was always numb, she was always busy, and she was never in the right state to even consider caring about someone else.

It scared Y/n.

It scared Jennie even more.

It scared Y/n to think that this was the same person she would have to get into the car with. The damage she did to the car. What said that she couldn’t do the same damage to her if she overstepped it? Maybe this was all that Jennie needed to do to have Y/n succumb and obey her.

Jennie yanked the door open with her throbbing hand, not waiting a single second as her hand was trembling and she ran her other hand through her hair. It was making her whole body shake that was clammy, her heart unstable, beating in her head, up her throat, trying to just escape her body and leave the abuse she caused herself and everyone else. It tried to escape from how terrified she was of whatever this was. These things she never cared about, Y/n was ruining her and no one had ever been able to ruin Jennie.

“Get the fuck inside, we’re getting your shit and you can go to your fucking boyfriend. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I will fucking give you what you want and fucking leave you alone.”

Y/n had gotten inside the car, scared not to get in and Jennie had slammed the door closed.

Jennie knew what she was doing.

Whatever control Y/n thought Jennie had lost, she had it all and Y/n would be on her leash as long as she wanted her to be.

The younger girl had stayed silent the whole ride, the fight long forgotten and the only words left she could remember and think about were that Jennie was going to leave her. It was eating at her as every time she glanced at the woman she had looked unbothered and hadn’t spared a single glance towards Y/n.

These things always made the vixen crumble.

She would be left all alone, she would be abandoned.

What if Asher left too? The man was leaving her, she was sure of it after the fight they had. Now Jennie was leaving her too. It was causing unbearable anxiety to Y/n.

Y/n froze.

She tried to work it out in her head when she watched Jennie shove her things into her bag.

Things that always worked;

Her body. 

“Jennie, please.” She pleaded, on the verge of new tears because she would get thrown out. She would be all alone and abandoned without anyone there to hold her or care for her.

The woman stopped and dropped the bag beside her feet while biting her lower lip. Her back turned to Y/n and she could count the seconds. She knew exactly what she was doing because Jennie knew that Y/n would be the one to cave and get on her knees to apologise first if it meant that Jennie would stay.

Five seconds and Y/n was on the older woman.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, hand running down to grab hold of Jennie's hand who wouldn’t give in just yet as she wanted to see Y/n break down even more. It was the least the vixen could do after aggravating Jennie more than needed when she had already been pissed. She turned and looked at Y/n who frowned when she wasn’t allowed to touch Jennie, her eyes glossy and fragile. Jennie could see the fears in them because Y/n didn't try to mask them around Jennie, not masking them around the woman who used them all against her. All because her walls had crumbled so easily and she had laid her trust on Jennie.

“What am I going to do with a sorry?” Jennie questioned and undid her pants, walking over to the bed and Y/n followed right after her. Too scared not to follow in case Jennie would truly leave her behind. “I don’t care about your sorry even if you were to be crying on the floor.” She continued, discarding her bottoms on the floor before pulling the shirt over her head and getting into bed. With that, she dismissed Y/n as she turned off the lamp.

“You can see yourself out.”

Y/n had never been treated the way Jennie treated her. She had never been thrown out, denied, rejected, and had her ego crushed this way. This was Y/n, she always got everything she wanted simply because she was pretty. It wasn't only this way, she in general had never been through the treatment Jennie had been giving her ever since she got involved with her. Whatever sex it was, it had turned into a game where they were constantly being dealt bad cards, playing it blindly, with all odds against them from the very start. Yet neither ever folded but kept betting more and more, until it would leave them both with nothing or everything, if not leave one with nothing and the other with everything.

Only time could tell how the game would end.

As if Jennie didn’t know it. She was part of the people who gave in because of the girl’s sex appeal. She figured that if she stomped on it and broke it, the girl would do anything that would favour Jennie in this game of cards and the woman would give in because it would benefit her. That it would give her an upper hand if Y/n showed her a card or two so she would know what to play next.

“Please, I will listen to you, anything, Jen–” Cold hands snuck upon Jennie’s bare body from behind. Y/n’s palms were smooth against her bare stomach, running down to the hem of her lipstick-stained boxers. “I’m sorry’ listen to you like you’re my daddy, promise.” It flipped Jennie’s stomach when the hand pushed into her boxers, Y/n’s lips brushing her ear as her hand wrapped around her hardening cock. The words only stirred Jennie on and on, and maybe it wasn’t as easy to resist Y/n’s sex appeal as she thought it would be.

God, they both somehow had each other wrapped around each other’s pinkies. Trying to play against each other in a game where they were a team. 

“I want you, everything you have to give, I want it. I will be a good girl, you can be my daddy.” Y/n knew just what to give Jennie despite being drunk, to show her where exactly the dynamic was. That Jennie would always have the upper hand and Y/n would always try to rebel because she had always been that way, but she knew how to be good when needed even if it caused big fights before she became that obedient girl that Jennie wanted her to be. 

“I will give you everything.” Jennie groaned out, her cock stiff in Y/n’s hold who was still stroking her, squeezing at her tip, letting the precum run down and smear over her member. The vixen hummed, her lips staining Jennie’s skin with her lip gloss as she kissed along the woman’s shoulder. It made Jennie’s hips buck into her hand, knowing she wouldn’t last Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand. She didn’t care if Y/n wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. At least she succumbed to Jennie for the moment.

She turned to Y/n as she sat up on the bed, pulling the girl up too–already discarding the jacket before she removed the girl’s shirt. Jennie leaned in and captured those plump lips, they tasted of vanilla, cigarettes, and tequila, her tongue pushing further into Y/n’s mouth. Their breaths were heavy, their kiss sloppier than usual, the woman worked on removing Y/n’s strapless bra and doing so with ease.

She kicked off the duvet from her body as she got down the bed, Y/n trying to chase after her lips and only getting the string of saliva to stretch further before it broke them apart. Jennie turned on the bedside lamp and her eyes were hungry for the girl, all she wanted to do was fuck all her anger out and into Y/n.

The younger looked at the cock that was straining against the underwear that still had her lip prints on them and Jennie reached over for Y/n. “You make me so fucking angry, Y/n.” She huffed out, pulling the girl to the edge of the bed and hooking her fingers at the hem of her skirt and underwear before she pulled on them. She made her so angry yet she made the billionaire crave her so much and it no longer made sense, it never had because what they had would never make sense. It wasn't supposed to make sense. Jennie pulled them down the girl’s long legs before she discarded them on the floor, quickly pulling her boxers down and kicking them to the side.

She leaned back down to Y/n, “I’m sorry.” The girl tried to apologise before her lips got pressed against Y/n's again. Jennie’s kisses were harsher than usual, forcing her tongue inside Y/n’s mouth before the wasted girl could register it. All she did was try to kiss back. “You’re not sorry, you’re a fucking brat who will always anger me.” Jennie’s tone was heated with anger as it never went away, her hand gripped Y/n’s thigh, pulling the girl closer and she pressed her hard cock against Y/n’s wet heat, gently rubbing it between her folds and lubing herself up with the slickness.

Jennie was well aware of how they angered each other and always would. They did it from the second they met and it would never change. It didn’t mean that Jennie would leave it all behind. She would drag it on for as long as possible even if it destroyed them. Pain became bearable, it became the usual, and it became pleasurable after a while. There was no telling right from wrong when they had looked at the wrong as right from the start. 

“You’re so fucking bad.” Jennie gritted out, her palm landing against Y/n’s thigh, the girl whined at the harsh pain and Jennie squeezed the flesh between her fingers. “But so fun to fucking destroy, aren’t you?” Y/n squirmed under Jennie who tugged on her lower lip, her body weight pressing her down into the mattress as her arms wrapped around Jennie’s back. Her kisses were like nicks, they hurt but they hurt so good the way she kissed down her neck, the way she bit down on her skin with the passion for hatred and desire.

“Jennie–” The girl got cut off, and another even harsher force landed right against her skin, it made Y/n jump but only to get nowhere as Jennie was right on top of her. “You don’t get to talk, Y/n.” Jennie pushed herself up, hand running between their bodies as she grabbed hold of her cock that was slick with Y/n's warm juices. Her eyes were on Y/n whose chest was heaving, the girl’s eyes just on Jennie, just for Jennie who guided her tip to her tight and sopping entrance.

“Each day I will remind you of who I am, how I own you, who you belong to.” Jennie breathed out as she pushed herself inside the girl, knowing very well that she had everything she needed to have Y/n in her chokehold. It made the girl’s back arch at the stretch that was intruding, grasping onto Jennie’s back and whimpering as she had no time to adjust. Her legs wrapped around Jennie’s waist. The billionaire was thrusting her hips into Y/n’s, the room quickly filled with the squelching, Jennie filling Y/n, stretching her out, her walls squeezing tightly around her cock with each stroke.

“Your fucking irreverence towards me will end badly one day.” Jennie groaned out, leaning down as she held herself up on her forearm beside Y/n’s head whose long legs were wrapped around her, holding Jennie close while nails dug into her skin. Nothing was gentle and nothing was supposed to be as they were in too much euphoria even to feel any real pain.

Y/n’s mind cut off when Jennie wrapped her hand around her neck, slowly cutting her breath as she squeezed her slim throat. Her heavy balls collided with her skin with each thrust, the woman panting for air right by her ear, her back flexing with each thrust under Y/n’s palms and nails only dragged harsher along her skin at the lack of air. 

Both of them were on the wrong side of heaven.

“You’re fucking with me for a reason, Y/n–fuck if I see you with someone else again, I will ruin you.” Jennie groaned right by her ear, slowly releasing pressure on her neck. Her hips were rough, each making her breath go ragged, carnal grunts coming from the back of her throat at the force she fucked the girl with as it was pushing her worn-out body to the limits. Her cock slid in before coming back out, only to slam back into Y/n hard enough for it to hurt them both.

Her cock was stretching the slim girl, splitting her and reaching the only spots that she needed to get touched. Every time the woman would fuck her she would touch her soul and make her attach herself even harder around Jennie. Y/n’s whiny moans were fueling Jennie on, her pace hard and deep, the bed squeaked with each thrust and Y/n’s walls fluttered around her throbbing cock. Jennie grounded herself hard against the floor with her feet to be able and have the girl trembling under her, the pleasure was clouding Jennie's mind. The juices spilling and staining the sheets.

“You will only get disappointed if you even try to see someone else aside from me—no one can fill your soul-sucking void, whore. Only me, no one else will take you for who you are, but me.” Her teeth dug into Y/n’s thin skin, biting down hard. "That's why you lie to everyone, but me." She muffled through her teeth that were digging into Y/n's skin to find even more support and leverage to fuck the girl.

A cry left Y/n’s lips, pleasure overwhelming her body as her hormones spiked whenever she was drunk. Her cunt was throbbing and her clit was continuously being rubbed at by Jennie’s pelvis in harsh motions. The dick pounding her, dragging along her walls in a painful yet filling with pleasure way, she was able to feel how much harder Jennie grew, the way her tip twitched while caressing her g-spot. She could feel Jennie fully–courtesy of Jennie ignoring using a condom when she knew Y/n wouldn’t have time to even think about it. Her cunt was snug around Jennie’s cock which was pounding her raw.

Jennie lifted her head, leaving a mark on the girl’s juncture that would bruise and she watched the girl under her. The way Y/n’s perfect breasts moved with each thrust, the girl only stayed in place because she was wrapped around Jennie. Her head thrown back, Jennie squeezed her neck again, watching the moans spill from her parted lips, walls squeezing her cock at each gesture because she knew Y/n’s body so well. Her hips rolled into the girl one last time and Y/n came undone under her, her thighs quivering around Jennie, her moans straining from the lack of air. Jennie could die from the way Y/n’s red eyes rolled back and she clawed at her back.

It sent Jennie over the edge, to know that only she managed to have the girl this way under her. That only she knew how to fuck her right, satisfy her with her cock, that she knew how to treat her exactly how Y/n needed to be treated whether outside or inside the bedroom because she was addicted to what Jennie had given her a taste of.

Her hand let go of Y/n’s neck, planting it down beside her head. “Here’s–” Jennie strained, her dick getting squeezed by Y/n’s warm and snug wet pussy. She buried herself deep, her heavy balls tightening as she had everything in them that Y/n deserved. “Everything for my good girl.” She breathed out, filling the girl with her warm and sticky cum, shooting it deep with each twitch of her swollen tip as the walls were squeezing so tightly around her that she was barely keeping it inside Y/n.

Jennie panted for air, unable to catch her breath, her heart pounded against her chest in a way that made it tighten and her throat was dry. Her body was clammy with sweat and she felt somewhere between disgusting and euphoric because her cock was still buried deep within Y/n’s snug walls. The girl under her slowly came back from her high, hands shaky as they let go of Jennie who looked down as she slowly pulled out of Y/n. Her eyes fell back on the girl’s face as tears were still drying on her cheeks, but the girl was quick to cover her face with her forearm while taking in a shaky breath at how overwhelming it had gotten somewhere along the way of the pleasure.

She silently got them both under the covers, covering any traces of the night with it as she hugged Y/n who was already dozing off in a room that was violently spinning, her body still faintly trembling in Jennie’s touch.

Jennie pushed herself up, ignoring the faint flinch from Y/n when she reached up to the girl’s face and pushed her hair out of the way. Jennie still cared about her and that was all that mattered. She leaned down and her lips gently pressed against her cheek. “I care so much about you. I’d give you everything.” The woman mumbled, leaving kisses along Y/n’s jaw and she felt Y/n pull more into her. Jennie wrapped her arms around her small waist, pulling her as close as possible while lying back down.

Jennie’s care just looked different.

[A few hours later]

“Why are you so pissed?” Jennie questioned, unable to please the girl who sat in front of her in the bathtub of the suite.

Y/n huffed, still texting on her phone while Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s one leg that was brushing against her thigh. Her palms smoothed against her calf as she put it on the edge of the tub, diagonally across Jennie who massaged the muscles. Her eyes not leaving Y/n who despite being on what Jennie assumed was one of the worst hangovers in her life still looked incredible.

“Everything fucking hurts.”

“Well…” Jennie started, pressing her lips against the girl’s ankle as she had already told her all the excuses. “You did fall.” She lied once again because that explained why certain parts of her body hurt.

There was the option of telling Y/n that her body was sore because Jennie had been harsh with her. Manhandled her, grabbed hold of her, pushed her around, and had rougher sex than she maybe should have since it was rough most of the time, but not like that. She could tell her that they fought, that she had threatened her in multiple ways which included abandoning her or going as far as killing her.

The problem with the truth was that Y/n would most likely not be sitting in the same bath as Jennie if she had told it.

Another problem was that Jennie couldn’t stand up for what she had done because in her defense she had been under the influence and Y/n had fueled her. It was certain that these things would happen and that was her excuse for letting them happen. What she couldn't control wasn't her fault.

Her eyes trailed along her slim leg, catching the bruises forming on her knees as having her on her knees on a cold marble floor wasn’t ideal either. These things only reached Jennie now when she was somewhat sober as she had already taken a line to wake herself up and take care of Y/n.

“Put your phone away.” She told her, expecting Y/n to do it to not cause yet another fight.

“I need to reply, Jen…One more second.” Y/n mumbled, this time not arguing or being defensive about it or telling her off because she knew that it would backfire. Her body hurt enough and she was scared to say no. Her eyes were caught by Jennie’s when she looked up to check if it was fine, looking for permission in the woman’s eyes, for the permission to send a text.

“Hurry up.” She ushered her with her lips trailing kisses along the girl’s calf.

Y/n squirmed and turned off her phone when Jennie nipped at her skin. “Stop or I will shove my foot up your ass, idiot.” She hissed and Jennie used the girl’s leg to pull her over to her. The water splashed, falling outside the tub and she grabbed hold of Y/n’s waist.

“You’re into some weird stuff, aren’t you?” Jennie questioned while pulling Y/n over to her lap, the girl straddling her and running her hands into Jennie’s wet hair. Her fingers tangled in it as Jennie leaned back, the water stopping under her collarbones, looking up at the girl, water drops falling down her pretty skin as the water stopped around her waist when she was in Jennie's lap. Her skin bruised, carrying Jennie's marks.

“I’m not,” Y/n mumbled with a roll of her eyes, fingers coming over to gently trace Jennie's face who turned her head and left a kiss on the nimble fingers. Her hands interlocked on the small of Y/n's back as she pulled her even closer to her. 

“There was a mention of daddy.”

“I’m going to fucking shove your head under the water and hold it there.”

God, Jennie could just hold the girl in her arms forever even if she wasn’t hers.

These moments made it worth it when she puckered her lips and Y/n gently kissed her.

The girl stupidly enough trusted Jennie.

It was more than Jennie making her walls crumble, Jennie had torn them down with force and given Y/n no other choice, but to trust her.

Those low lows were worth it when those highs came.

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @badaspookie @xszn @badasgff @hwm1hyun @herwhcre @lilacura @naycore / taglist is open

masterlist.

#Spotify #blackpink #jennie #kim jennie #blackpink jennie #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fanfiction #jennie blackpink #blackpink smut #jennie smut #kpop smut #female reader #girl group smut #smut #fanfic #g!p jennie #jennie x reader #g!p jennie x female reader #jennie x female reader #lisa x reader #rosé x reader #blackpink angst #angst #jisoo x reader #blackpink fanfic

[twisted-tales-of-all]

When Insanity Works

Summary: In a world where men have learned not to summon succubi for their own pleasure, Mingi decides to try it anyway. Pairing: Song Mingi x afab!Reader Genre: Smut, Fantasy, Horror(?), One Shot Tropes: sub!idol, succubus!AU Word Count: 1.3K Contains: mention of the existence of sexual assault (no details), mind reading (kinda), demon contracts/summoning, somnophilia, big dick!Mingi, oral (m. receiving), scratching, reference to porn-watching and masturbation, pet names (kitten, pet, sweet angel, toy), unprotected sex, creampie, multiple rounds (not overstim though)

Normally, when your kind is summoned by humans, it's by women trying to get back against their assaulters or men who want to sabotage their crush's current relationship. With the obvious downsides of interacting with succubi, men haven't requested for themselves in decades. So, why have you found yourself summoned by the one man who insists he'll survive despite all the warnings?

"No. Send me to someone else, just like people always do."

The tall man sitting against the bed's headboard insists, "Let me choose for myself. If my life is at risk, that's my call. I'd like for you to bed me."

"Why in Hell's great name would you want to risk your life for some sex? I assure you, it's not special enough to place your life on the line for."

No, wait. Why are you even fighting him on it? He had to do a lot to summon you, so he had plenty of time to change his mind, and yet he's still so adamant about it. Who are you to deny him? Especially when you came here to eat anyway.

Cutting him off midway through his monologue you weren't listening to, you cave, "You know what, fine. I have to start when you're asleep; I'm sure you know that. So fall asleep and I'll do it."

Happily, the lanky man slides under the covers with the biggest smile on his face. Without the context you know, you would've assumed he met the love of his life or scored his dream job based on that smile.

Strangely enough, he falls asleep rather quickly. Hovering over him, you peek into his mind to find some of his desires. In this way, you learn his name, his urge to be used, and some of the names he'd like to be called. Finding more than enough substance to use, you move the covers off of him to find him in nothing but a loose pair of boxers. You rub him through the fabric until a sizeable bulge forms. The scent of his eagerness fills your nose as you lower his underwear and release your meal.

Starting slowly, you leave kitten licks upon his tip while stroking his length. Although you've seen countless appendages - human and otherwise - this one has a length you only find on creatures who had to adapt after struggles to mate, surely not in humans. You enjoy his small whines and twitches as he reacts to your tender touches in his sleep. Dragging your hand down his thigh, you find muscles perfect to grab hold of. When you move that hand back up to his waist, you begin to understand his desires more. With each simple touch, his body reacts in multiple ways - tensing, twitching, whining, and even flailing around at times. It almost feels like he's meant to be used for others' enjoyment.

Learning enough about him, you increase the intensity. As you suck on his tip, you drag your fingertips around his waist, your nails scratching him enough to mark but not quite enough to tear the skin. With these increased sensations, his whimpering gets louder, even so much as mumbling incoherently in his sleep.

You move up to look at his face, checking to make sure he still hasn't woken up, and ask him, "A deep sleeper? Is this how you want to be used?"

Upon kissing his temple, you gain the answer for yourself as you witness him watching somnophiliac porn to pleasure himself. With a giggle, you find the new information as delectable as his massive size. You return to his crotch with a newfound mission. Sloppily, you continue giving him oral with the sole intention to prepare him for your pussy.

As your saliva glistens on his length, you position yourself above him. With your hands resting on his chest for balance, you lower yourself onto him, feeling the addictive stretch as you take all of him in. Settling onto his lap, you watch his face contort from the sensations. You stay still as he twitches inside of you.

"Shh... don't worry, kitten. You'll get what you want." You cup his face and lean in to kiss his nose before adding in a whisper, "Just be a good little pet and be patient."

After repositioning yourself upright again, you allow your natural urges to win. You grind yourself on him, thinking only of your own pleasure, exactly like he wants you to do regardless. As his whines grow to a higher pitch, you work yourself faster, enjoying the sexuality you're gaining from the insane man who requested you for himself despite all the warnings from his ancestors.

Suddenly, his hands wrap around your butt, his fingertips molding the soft plushness. Looking down, you see him looking lovingly up at you with barely-awake eyes. Averting your gaze, you lift your chin to the ceiling and focus on feeling him inside of you. With him now awake, you flex your muscles to tighten around him, wanting to play with him more. In stark contrast to the high-pitched whines from his sleeping form, he releases a deep, throaty growl as he feels you grip him tighter.

"Oh, sweet angel, that sound is music to my ears. Keep it up and I'll suck your soul out with your juices. Be careful, now."

Through gritted teeth and a fuzzy mind, he muses, "Take it. It's already yours."

Fueled by his lust, you focus on his enjoyment for a moment to continue hearing his magical noises. You adjust your movements to be better for him and work him to his first high. As his seed shoots up into you, his fingernails dig into your flesh and his back arches from the pleasure. Curses mix into the devilishly good noises erupting from his throat.

You lean forward and lock lips with him as you return to moving in ways that'll pleasure you. You dip your tongue into his mouth to occupy his mind, trying to remove his focus from his sensitive dick still getting attention despite the violent orgasm moments ago. You hear him beg in between your lips, unsure whether he wants you to stop or give him more. When he glides his hands up your back, you understand that he wants to make things more intimate, so you console him.

"My lovely toy, you asked me to play with you. Are you already done playing? Should we stop?"

"Not stop. Just a break. Please, let me recover for a few minutes. That was the hardest orgasm I've ever had; it was almost painful."

"Almost? You weren't in pain, kitten?" Shocked, as you often leave your victims in tears with their first orgasm, you halt all movement to look at him.

"N-no. It only stung for maybe a second. I'll be ready again in a few minutes. I'm sorry I need to recover."

Running a hand through his hair and removing the strands that stick to his forehead from the sweat, you admit, "Don't apologize, Mingi. You're stronger than I expected. Most men are in tears already. I'm amazed, not upset."

Sure enough, his grip loosens after only four minutes of waiting, and he asks you to move again. Despite the intensity of his previous orgasm, he still wants more. With a smirk, you understand why he called you for himself, even if he didn't quite know himself.

As the night continues, you earn three more orgasms from the beast of a human, following the same cycle of rest between them. Not a single tear falls from his eye, and you find yourself full before you can completely exhaust him. Due to this, you aren't allowed to return to hell to seek out another victim, so you decide to help each other out by continuing your service with him as a demon contract rather than your typical succubus call.

Now tethered to him until he wishes to release you, you find yourself itching in anticipation for the nights to come - something you've never expected to do with a simple human. But, he's clearly not just a simple human, not with that libido and stamina combination.

#cultofdionysusnet #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi smut #song mingi smut #sub!ateez #sub!kpop #sub!idol #sub!mingi

[angstics]

3.3k words summarizing queliot if you've never seen the magicians. or if youve seen it and you want to indulge in my insane criticisms. lord touch his mind

okay so the magicians was a tv show about a bunch of post grads learning magic in magic university then discovering that the fantasy world from a kids book series was actually real and the Beast of that world was out to get them. WHO GIVES A FUCK. the crazy people were focused on the relationship btwn main character quentin coldwater (depressed, heart on his sleeve, surprise sex maniac who is new to magic and loves those books) and gay best friend eliot waugh (substance addicted (big surprise!!), gay trauma, named after evelyn waugh oh you know…) they form a friendship and it’s weirdly touchy and close. eliot keeps trying to seduce quentin but it’s never serious. i dont even think quentin notices. anyone remember the “lets not talk” scene? he was about to fuck that sad man. anyway this tension was actually fulfilled by the end of the 1st season with a drunk threesome including the two and their best friend margo. they at least kiss and cuddle and MAYBE sucked dick if the ghost of his girlfriend who haunts him later is to be believed (which i do #cockinhismouthsunday).

at this time articles that were like “THIS SIFI SERIES IS PROUDLY BISEXUAL” were coming out which. lol. lmfao! quentin never had any sort of queer identity. not even a hint of it. the homophobia of the show started with the regurgitation of the “sad drunk lonely sex-crazed” gay man trope with eliot, then the “everyone is fluid but no one actually has same sex attraction” trope, THEN by sidelining and killing off almost every gay or trans character, THEN THE QUENTIN THING. and the quentin thing turned people insane. let’s see why.

so after the threesome, eliot and quentin continue having a good friendship. there is some tension that isnt present with margo which sure is a choice… but it is resolved by a heartfelt crowning ceremony nd hug. oh theyre kings of the magic land now btw. eliot and q are pretty much separate from this point on xcept for certain episodes/moments. it is strange they dont have any storylines together. but love finds a way. at some point a version of eliot sacrifies himself for quentin. if u look at the scene it is on instinct it is crazy. then they reunite at the end of s2 but it’s all business really. the show was really involved w its nonsense plot.

anyway season 3. hahaha. so like i said theyre separate most of the show past s1. this is true in this season xcept for episodes 305 and 313 (with some notable moments in between). the plot of this season is that they have to go on quests to collect keys. the creature that gives eliot this plot calls quentin his “brother of the heart”. ok! when they see each other for the first time in a while in 304, they hug in a very sweet way :) look at this photo from bts during that scene :) i have it framed

after a series of other quests, 305 turns out to be the Eliot and Quentin quest! finally a story with the two! the quest is for the “time key”, which is fabled to be given to whoever solves the mosaic puzzle in fillory (magic world). the puzzle? they have to arrange 100s of tiles in a way that depicts “the beauty of all life”. quentin is very excited about it. eliot is happy to hear him infodump. they eventually get pushed into fillory to solve the mosaic. turns out they were also sent DECADES in the past. there might have been a way out but they were dead-set on solving the mosaic and getting their key. so they get to work. they live in a cottage attached to the mosaic and they spend hours, days, months on it. just the two of them and the mosaic. this episode is called “a life in a day” which is so perfect you wonder why the writing couldnt be that good within the show.

at the 1 year anniversary, quentin kisses eliot. and eliot kisses him back. and you wonder woah what does this mean?! well keep wondering girl because this tv show does not care to explore any of that. it chugs on and eliot and q fight about “living their lives there” and quentin gets a Wife and has a child with her and then she DIES (leaving her as a narrative incubator rather than an actual character, which is very in line with the sexism of the show). and they grow up and decades pass and the child grows old enough to leave and it seems eliot co-parented him but (again) the tv show doesnt care to show you that. and this whole time theyre working on the mosaic. years and years. eventually they grow old. it’s just the two of them. until eliot dies. quentin goes to bury him in the mosaic plot and he finds a special little tile. he places it in the mosaic. he gets the key. the puzzle is solved. “the beauty of all life”. but quentin is alone. his life companion is gone. and that’s the last we see of him.

we go back in time til before they enter fillory. their friend stops them and she has the key through time shenanigans and they never live that timeline. UNTIL!!!!! they do. they remember it all. what does decades (50 yrs btw) of living happily together mean for them?!? FUCK ALL APPARENTLY!!!! because the next episode (306 if yr keep track) they mention it ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN. and there is so much beneath the surface with the looks and the line that mentions it (“go be life partners with someone else” eliot says jokingly in a manner that shouldve been the catalyst to quentin’s magic-induced suicide spiral later that episode).

ok quentin does mention it once more to his dying dad. but nothing about his Male Life Partner Of Fifty Years. Nothing. they dont even talk about it with their best friends, leading one to believe they just kept it a secret . which. okay.

okay. so theyre apart til the last episode of the season. and quentin decides to sacrifice himself by locking himself in a cage with a monster for all of eternity. he says the quest prepared him for it which is yikesss. eliot refuses. but quentin insists. they travel to the prison (he gets back together with his gf during this trip btw they had been apart that season after some shit. one of their worst writing decisions i hate this stupid ass cockroach relationship). quentin almost exchanges himself. then eliot shoots the monster. dooming them all.

so the monster doesnt die. instead he possesses eliot. and that becomes the story for season 4. at first quentin and co think eliot is dead. and it’s devastating lol. an interesting thing is that the monster was so. touchy with quentin. unbearably so. it’s such a perverse reflection of eliot’s touch. which is sorta pointed out by quentin in this quote (paraphrase) “i know it’s not eliot. but he has his face and his eyes…”

anyhow 405. hahahahahaha. so this episode it’s revealed eliot is alive but trapped in his own head. and to get out for a moment and tell his friends he’s alive, he needs to confront his most terrible most shameful memory. the whole episode is him trying to figure out what it is. meanwhile, quentin and co are setting up a plan to kill the monster. and quentin breaks up with his gf (lol). in a deleted scene that WAS shown in promo they argue about the monster. and quentin says “im team eliot”. lol

anyhow, eliot’s hit a dead end. he cant figure the worst thing that’s happened in his life. then his memory of quentin (theyve been hangin out) says he’ll “sacrifice” himself if he had to. eliot smiles and says “i know youre just a memory… but youre a very generous one.” and quentin says— (im reciting this from memory btw all of this has been from 4 years of NON STOP thinking about it) quentin says “well you sacrifice for the people you love” and he gives eliot a VERY pointed look. and then it dawns on eliot. and the guilt is instantly palpable.

hahahahha. hahaha. hahahahahaha. okay so eliot goes to the memory he knows is the worst thing he’s ever done. his most traumatic memory, after a lifetime of violent homophobia and bad choices. the person possessed before him described this memory as being “the day he left home”.

the memory? the day they remembered their past lives. did it happen? fifty years. it happened.

theyre sat under a wedding arch (that was the b plot of the episode lol). it’s beautiful. eliot watches the memory play out, standing in front of the seated figures. the guilt. the guilt.

outside, the tension is building. the plan to kill the monster is in motion. quentin has to coax him to a certain spot. he has to look at him as he kills his best friend.

eliot doesnt know this but he gets anxious watching it play out. there is a certainty that this is it. the first time viewer has no idea whats going on. we never saw the direct aftermath of them remembering. we always assumed there wasnt anything.

well a year after 305 aired, a yr after thinking THAT WAS IT, they recontextualize Everything.

it is worth saying here that in the promo interviews leading up to season 4, quentin’s and eliot’s actors were sussing it UP. quentin’s at some point talks on q’s queerness, saying it was the one aspect of his life he didnt feel anxious about.

well

what happens is that quentin asks eliot for a relationship. remember how it was quentin who first kissed eliot? it happens again. heart on his fucking sleeve. i can recite this scene pretty well so im going to fucking do it:

did it happen? fifty years. it happened. it was sort of beautiful. it really was. i know this is gonna sound dumb but … us. i mean we work. we know it cause we lived it. who gets that proof of concept? (eliot smiles uneasily) we just got injected with fifty years of memories so i get that youre not thinking clearly. no im just saying… what if we gave it a shot, would that be so crazy? (eliot looks down, worried and thoughtful. quentin smiles RADIANTLY it is BLINDING) why the fuck not?

editors opinion: quentin is such a beautiful person. to be so truthful about something so scary is unthinkable. especially in context of him being so hopelessly and quietly in love his childhood best friend, and his whirlwind romance with previously mentioned gf, and all the tragedy he endured with these two. but this is someone who loves with his whole heart. what was he supposed to do? contain it?

then eliot hardens.

i know you and you arent… whats the matter? dont be naive it matters. (pause) q i love you but… that isnt me and that definitely isnt you. not when we have a choice. (quentin looks away. he wipes his eye) oh. okay. sorry.

and silence. the real eliot, the eliot who isnt the memory, looks on. tired and angry, he speaks to himself:

what the hell is wrong with you? what the hell are you doing? someone Good and True… Loves you. yeah it was a little crazy but you knew. you knew this truly mattered. and you just SNUFFED IT OUT.

then he looks to the memory of quentin. soft as the clouds:

q. im sorry. i was afraid. and when im afraid i run away.

then he kisses him. and he hits you with the thesis of the episode:

if i ever get out of here q… know that when im braver it cause i learned it from you.

well

thats his most traumatic memory. he is granted passage to consciousness. what is the first thing he sees? quentin. the real quentin.

q? (smiles) q (laughs) it’s me. it’s eliot. ok come on no games. it’s eliot. i said no games. (eliot looks around, worried as all hell) fifty years (he walks towards q) who gets proof of concept like that? what? peaches and plums motherfucker (this is the symbol to their mosaic life) im alive in here. (eyes as wide as saucers, heart in his throat) eliot…

and he ruins their plans of killing the monster. “eliot’s alive.”

then the episodes keep rolling. “eliot eliot eliot. why do you care so much about him?” “because i do.” and “wow i love that plan. except the part where it doesnt save eliot.” quentin gets back with his gf for reasons only the devil knows. but fine ok whatever quentin and eliot will HAVE to talk post-saving. even if the writers ignore it once more they have some kind of relationship. and they do save eliot in the finale! you know who they dont save? lmfao

quentin dies. in a manner that many including myself found weird and unsatisfactory and suicidal. and he never gets to know how eliot feels. never. he’s just gone. their story means nothing 💯

editors note: this ending broke me. i was using the show as a depression crutch, so a fate so hopeless ruined me. cant blame the show for my mistake but being so technically bad certainly didnt help.

well when the show came back for its next (and final lol) season, they did attempt closure for eliot and quentin. for some reason this was all contained in 3 episodes, most of it in the third (503) but what the fuck ever. it has its moments.

the episode is basically about eliot and alice (q’s gf i dont think ive mentioned her name. sorry alice) going on a mini quest up a treacherous mountain for grievers to return a piece of quentin’s soul back to the underworld. their fights are soooo funny. toxic lover vs almost-lover.

alice at some point says “well he was MY boyfriend this is MY pilgrimage and you just TAGGED ALONG” and (blood obviously boiling) eliot goes “right, because he meant nothing to me”. and this highlights something so sneakily homophobic about this whole affair. quentin and eliot’s relationship never mattered to the narrative as much as all the other straight relationships, especially quentin and alice’s. like i said, they would separate for entire seasons. you will be happy to know that not 1 episode goes by without quentin and alice conflicting and making up conflicting and etc. i dont understand how quentin and eliot’s relationship wasnt important enough. they were best friends, they kissed multiple times and had sex AT LEAST once if the mosaic subtext isnt considered. and the mosaic… it isnt just that they lived together for 50 yrs and raised a child and were happy, something they couldnt quite grasp in their old lives… they achieved the beauty of all life. that is a monumental achievement that shouldve changed not only their lives, but their stories.

the thing about the confession is that it wasnt planted in s3. talking about 405, the writers said they came up with it while working on that episode. it was essentially a retcon. though its inclusion explains why they didnt talk about it literally, it doesnt excuse the narrative outright ignoring it. it DEFINITELY doesnt account for why it ignored the rest of the SAME SEASON it was ESTABLISHED IN. if this was quentin and alice, they would be talking about it nonstop. and guess the fuck what when they get back together it is *non stop*.

SO. 503. they are on their pilgrimage. tensions build. eliot hallucinates quentin’s voice (it’s a soundbite from the mosaic when eliot dies which is depressing). they meet another traveller who is grieving his long dead boyfriend.

the traveller asks who theyre grieving and alice goes My Boyfriend and eliot looks away and says he knew him as a friend and it’s so sad it makes me want to die. why did they invent new exciting ways for gay people to be ashamed of who they love. i hate this show.

anyway the traveller talks about his boyfriend and how he was a magician who died young and how his dreams were haunted by him. and eliot is listening so intensely you want to jump hale appleman for being so good at this acting thing. alice goes to sleep and leaves the two alone. then they really start talkin:

(the traveller asks) have you ever had love? (eliot smiles small, hesitant) love…? yeah love. (pause) the friend we’re putting to rest. (traveller is delightfully shock) wasnt just a friend.

truly truly truly cant describe to you how much it physically pains me that it took 2 seasons and for one of them to die and a conversation with a stranger to get to this point. why wasnt this always part of the narrative. why does this only matter now after 2 yrs of fans badgering you about why this isnt part of the fucking show despite BEING PART OF THE FUCKING SHOW! it is dead obvious this was never the intent so even with something that should feel right feels wrong because the show never wanted it. it never wanted quentin to be in love with eliot. but it doesnt make sense if he isnt. i hate this show.

the convo continues 🙄:

does she know? oh god no. a torrid secret affair. (eliot looks away) no, nothing like that.

and i wish eliot was given a proper story. i wish i knew what was going on in his head through all of this. i wish i wish.

so it is revealed that quentin and eliot “had love” and that eliot is keeping it a secret (a revelation considering they werent intimate on screen past the 1 yr anniversary, they were only ever referred to as best friends by cast and crew, AND even what they were was obscured in the confession scene. and their feelings didnt matter past 405 fuck this world). this is huge. it should be huge. eliot’s first arc is about how he cant fall in love until he does and gets his heart broken. quentin’s stories are so wrapped up in alice that having another love interest should complicate that entirely. it doesnt.

the climax of the episode is when eliot expresses difficulty of letting go of quentin and alice says “he was your friend” and eliot replies (quick as if not meaning to) “he wasnt just my friend.” and wowww. how cathartic. the first time in the history of the show they talk about it. 5 seasons btw.

and eliot tells her about the mosaic and how “we loved each other for a really really long time.” and how he told him to fuck off and how he died for him and how he was never able to talk to him again. he just died.

and that part is supposed to be cathartic too. it feels cathartic for eliot the character at least. but to me the Viewer. i was sick of how they were trying to appeal to MY thoughts of what he should be feeling. as if trying to placate me. cuz if it was soo important it wouldnt just been solved after this episode. he DGAF about quentin after this. i dont get it. why cant they write a proper story.

well one line that stuck with me and i truly felt was this:

alice: he was pretty in love with you eliot: i wouldnt say that alice: .. i would

and then eliot looks at her the most devastated a man can look.

thats it. that’s quentin and eliot. a heartfelt and final fuck this show. the fic goes crazy esp the 2019 shit.

#long post #the magicians

[bratphilia]

please don't try to find me through my dealer

summary: Mr. Raglan is your drug dealer.

note: fksjshd dont ask me how or why i came up with this it just happened

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: slightly dubcon, drugged sex, rough oral sex, implied overdose

your head is in your hands and your leg is bouncing up and down rapidly as you wait for your name to be called by the receptionist. instead, a familiar voice calls your name. you lift your head to meet the eyes of the man you're really here to see.

mr. raglan lifts his head a bit when he looks at you. then he beckons you to follow him. he leads you to his office, and you stand in the doorway expectantly. he's rummaging through a drawer in the far right corner of his office. it's a big drawer, one that clatters everytime he moves something inside. you move closer with curiosity, but before you can take a look, he shuts it, clearly finding what he was looking for.

there's a bottle of pills in his hand. it's different because you've never seen the bottles they've come from, never knew if it was from off the streets or prescription. this filled you with a feeling of relief knowing you were, at the very least, being safe. but right now, mr. raglan's fingers were conveinently covering the label of the bottle. it made you gulp.

"what is that?" you ask.

mr. raglan smiles kindly. "something to make you feel better." then he moves to a drawer on his desk and retrieves a pill cutter. "you'll have to be careful with this, one whole tablet will have you..." he emphasizes with a low whistle.

if you were sitting, your leg would bouncing out of control. but even worse, you're just standing there, like you're paralyzed. you feel like he's hiding the name of the substance on purpose, and you feel a bubbly kind of nervousness, but strangely enough, excitement.

"okay," you say ultimately.

he walks over to you. "open your mouth."

you don't quite understand the point of basically feeding it to you, but it doesn't really matter to you. the most important thing is that he's close to you, in your proximity.

you do what he says and open your mouth. he drops half of the pill on your tongue. you keep your mouth open, feeling a little dumb, and he swifting grabs a bottle of water laying on his desk for you.

and then you swallow. "thanks."

"any time."

a silence fills the room. usually you would just leave without saying anything. your relationship with him is nothing but transactional. but you stand there like you're waiting for something. he doesn't say anything either. should you make a move?

you decide to do so. "thanks... for always having my best interest." it comes out in a mumble and it's times like this where you wish you had his charisma, the ultimate power to always know what to say.

mr. raglan doesn't say anything. instead, he grips your face by the cheeks and pulls you so your heads are inches away from each other. your heartbeat quickens and you feel more nervous than when you took an unidentified pill just a minute ago.

then he kisses you. it's hungry. he's the one doing all the work. moving against your mouth, tongue swiping your bottom lip to ask for entrance, which you hesitantly give him. is this what you want? you're struck with the realization that you (probably) have been wanting this for awhile.

mr. raglan moans into the kiss. his hands wander from its grasp on your face to your waist to pull you impossibly closer. kissing william afton is an experience you've never felt before. you've kissed guys in high school, one in college so far, but it was immature and inexperienced in comparison to this.

he moves his mouth against yours and you try your best to mimic his movements. you realize that you're the one that's immature and inexperienced.

he breaks away from the kiss and stares at you. his lips are wet and plump from the action. it's undeniably beautiful, to you. he pulls you close to him and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head. "you are so precious to me."

you could cry. this is everything you ever wanted and more.

"close the door and lock it," he says with a much different tone, one that you can't describe, letting go of you sooner than you wish he would've.

on shaky legs, you reach out for the door handle and lock it like he asked. you bite your lip nervously, afraid to look back at him. you don't even have to because, before you know it, he manuevers you to face him and his lips are on yours again. when you both pull away from each other for air, you get a good look at his face. his face is flushed, he's panting and his pupils are blown wide. he reminds you of a hungry animal circling in on its prey.

"sit on the desk," he tells you, with that commanding voice of his. he could tell you to jump off a cliff and you would do it. you do what he says gingerly, clasping your hands in your lap and fidgeting with your fingers.

mr. raglan stalks over to you like he's on the prowl. he places both arms on the desk so that they encage your legs. "do you have any idea what you do to me?"

your eyebrows furrow. "i don't know what you mean."

he chuckles darkly. "always walking in here, confiding in me like i'm some kind of therapist. most of my clients don't really do that sort of thing, you know. but you feel the need to justify yourself every time you come back here, like you're not an addict like the rest of them."

tears stung in your eyes. you can't find the words to defend yourself or even retort, because deep down, he's right. and it hurts.

to add insult to injury, he keeps going. "and you always walk in here dressed like an absolute slut. with your short skirts and your shirts that leave nothing to the imagination."

a tear rolls down your cheek. you did notice some wandering glances and prolonged touches, but you never expected it to escalate to this point.

"i-i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable," you feel the need to apologize.

mr. raglan smiles wolfishly, but doesn't respond. instead he reaches out for your the hem of your shirt and tugs on it expectantly. you hesitantly take his cue to take it off, leaving you bare chested — you felt lazy this morning and skipped the bra.

"see what i mean?" he says, fingers reaching pinch your nipples, causing you to cry out desperately. "absolutely nothing is left to the imagination."

you feel hurt. slutshamed to be exact. but you can't deny that his touch was welcomed.

"you like that, huh," he says, laughing lowly. you can only respond with a small "mhm."

his hands slide down to your waist. "lay back for me, yeah?" his desk surprisingly lengthy that you can rest your head with it still touching the surface. he lifted your legs and folded them in half causing your skirt to ride up to your wait, exposing your panties to him. your face burned at the lewd position he put you in.

mr. raglan lowers himself to his knees so that he's kneeling right in front of your pussy. your face flushes at the thought of your choice of underwear today: white with a small, pink bow on the front. you wish you wore something sexier, but he seems to like it. "cute pair," he comments.

he doesn't take them off like you expect him to, but instead he grasps around the center and pulls the fabric to the side with force, exposing your mound to him. you let out a flurry of whimpers when he blows air on your clit. "you like that, baby?" he asks and you nod.

"answer me," his tone changes and it's much more forceful. "answer me and i'll give you what you want."

"yes... yes i love it," you gasp out desperately.

he rewards you by smacking a kiss onto your clit, making you moan out. he starts licking in circles around the sensitive nub, teasing you until you can feel yourself pulsating uncontrollably.

then he stops.

he guides one of your hands to your pussy, specifically the hood. "pull this back for me."

you whimper nervously again at the implication. doing what he says, you pull the hood protecting your clit back, and expose it to him. immediately, he assaults the sensitive area with his mouth, making you squirm and writhe.

the most pornographic moans you've ever made tumble from your mouth he absolutely ravages you. he's moaning and grunting into  you, only egging you on even more.

"fuck!" you cry, at a slow swipe of his mouth. "fuck, i'm so close — god." your thighs start shaking but he quickly halts them by tightly gripping them with large hands. when you come it feels like a rubber band snapping. you give one last, drawn out cry.

he pulls away from your sensitive pussy and stands to his full height. he does pump a finger inside of you, only to retreat it quickly, and brings it to his lips for a taste of you.

"so good for me, honey," mr. raglan says with a grin, running a hand gently up and down your thighs.

you don't realize it at first but you're sobbing quietly and tears are running down your face. "please," you say quietly. "please fuck me."

he laughs at you like you said something funny. "not yet."

"what.." you say, but an overwhelming feeling hits you before you can finish your sentence. you feel like you've been put on mute. you start to feel lightheaded. your legs relax so that they dangle over the desk. you feel like every muscle and limb inside of you has gone limp. it's a scary feeling, to be awake while you're whole body is asleep.

and then you lose consciousness. the fucking pill.

#steve raglan #william afton #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #william afton smut #william afton x reader #fnaf x reader

[levis-nut-dump]

~Break Away~

Description: Drug dealer ex boyfriend Connie tries to make you jealous.

TW: Drugs, gang, fluff, cursing

You never liked Connie Springer much. Since you were thirteen he was trouble in a small package and now you're twenty and he's trouble in a bigger package, which is why you weren't surprised when your six-month relationship was cut short because of his line of 'work'. You weren't too fond of being around a bunch of guns, drugs, and gangbangers every time you want to hang out with your boyfriend, you weren't cut out for that life. Not even two weeks later, Connie found someone who was.

You found the news out through a mutual friend of yours, Sasha Braus, she also hated Connie's work but knowing him as long as you have she knows just as well there's no pulling him from it.

"Already?!" you yelled.

Sasha jumped. "I mean, yeah. But that's ok, right? Your relationship was mainly physical and you don't like him that much anyway."

The truth is, you have grown to like Connie as a partner over the last six to seven months. You also found him sexy as you did dangerous. "Well... Whatever! Just how can he move on so quickly?! With Jackie nonetheless!" You grabbed your car keys and slammed your apartment door open.

Sasha jumped from the couch. "(Y/N) Where are you going?! He's around his people and Jackie's just as dangerous as he is! Don't do anything rash!" she begged.

"Fuck Jackie and FUCK Connie. I'm giving that prematurely grey jackass a piece of my mind!"

"Jackie?!"

"She can get in my way if she wants to. She doesn't mean shit to him. Connie's wanted me for years he didn't move on that fast. Jackie is just to make me jealous and it's not working." you say getting into your car.

Sasha crouched to talk to you in the passenger side window. "Are you sure about that?" she giggled.

"Are you coming or not?" you say with aggravation filling your body.

"Yes but only so I can keep my two best friends from killing each other. This is why we don't date in the friend group." Sasha said getting into the car.

You start the car on the way to Connie's corner. "You're dating Jean, who is in the same friend group." you point out.

"Jean who's not a gangbanger."

You flip Sasha off.

Finally, you get to Connie's corner hideaway. An old building he and his guys use to plan their moves. "Ok, so what's the plan? Do you have like a weapon or something or are we gonna take the sneaky app-" Sasha started.

You turned the car off and got out, slamming the door which alerted Connie around the corner as he smirked.

"Connie Springer!" you yelled turning the corner to Connie, his guys, and Jackie sitting on his lap. In front of them was a table full of guns, large bags of weed, and a white substance you didn't even want to know about, but you weren't scared, your ego was bruised. You weren't the violent belligerent type but when your pride was hurt no one was safe from your temper.

"Hey Connie." Sasha smiled and waved from behind you, fearful of the table that possessed at least three charges. Maybe Sasha's the only one exempt from your temper.

"Hey Sasha. (Y/N)." Connie grinned.

"Fuck he's so sexy." you thought. "You're kidding me, right? Jackie?"

Connie sighed. "We broke up babe. I moved on." he said cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah right. It would be more believable if it were with anyone but Jackie Fletcher." you scoffed.

Jackie got up and Sasha backed up. "And what's that supposed to mean? What's wrong with me?" Jackie asked putting her shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail and taking her earrings out.

"It means you have more STDs than Connie has warrants." you grit through your teeth.

Connie's boys laughed and this set Jackie off. "Bitch you better have the hands to back that mouth up." she said stepping closer

"My mouth isn't as 'trained' as yours but I bet my fucking hands are just as good hoe."

Jackie ran up and you don't know what happened but the next thing you knew you were on top of her punching her over and over.

"Guys take Sasha upstairs I'll take care of this." Connie ordered. As the guys were carrying out his command Connie went to pull you off Jackie. "Alright. Alright Tyson she's out!" he said finally getting you to your feet. You quickly turn around and push him. "The fuck (Y/N)?!" he yelled.

"What you want some too?" you asked, pushing him again.

"I'm not gonna put my hands on you (Y/N)." Connie said softly.

You push him again. "Why not?" You pushed him against the wall "Fucking pussy. Fight back." You slap him on his left cheek.

Connie stared at you with a hazel deadly glare that snapped you back to reality. Sometimes you forget just how scary he could be as he towers over you weighing two hundred all muscle. "You want me to put my hands on you (Y/N)?" he growled switching you against the wall faster than you can blink. "You come in here, yell at me in front of my guys, insult my girlfriend, then beat her unconscious. After that, you have the nerve to come at me?" He put your chin between his fingers and made you look him in the eyes. "You're so fucking sexy." Your lips smashed together in a sloppy kiss. You run your fingers through his short grey hair as he undoes your pants and drops them to the ground. With a small bite of your lip, Connie breaks from the kiss and peppers your neck.

For an hour, years of pent-up hatred and anger were released against that wall.

#aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #fluff #levi ackerman #levi aot #smut #anime and manga #anime art #jean kirstein #connie x black reader #connie springer #aot connie #Spotify

[kenshimybeloved]

Hi!! Here’s a probably-too-long analysis of Kenshi and Johnny’s first scene together that’s probably just part 1 of a series where I over analyze every scene of these two!

In previous scenes, it’s made clear that Johnny is disappointed with the current trajectory of his life- his career is going downhill, he’s losing money, his wife is leaving him, and we see him drinking despite it being implied multiple times throughout the game that Johnny has had some kind of issue with alcohol/possibly substances of some kind. The nail in the coffin for his marriage is an argument not over just Johnnys spending in general, but the fact that he spent $3M on a sword that he refuses to get rid of. It’s not super clear initially why it is he feels so strongly about this particular sword- sure he doesn’t wanna get rid of anything Chris lists, but the sword seems to strike a nerve when she suggests reselling it. Why is it he’s so fascinated with its deep history? Are we to assume Johnny is a history nerd in this timeline? That’s what it seems to imply when you’re first playing this part of the game, but as it goes on we learn this is all Liu Kangs doing. Liu Kang admits to using Sento as a means to introduce Johnny and Kenshi to each other (this is confirmed through a fight intro with him and Kenshi), but since he also does his best not to interfere too much with free will, he leaves the meeting up to them.

[side note: I find it interesting that it’s confirmed Liu Kang had Johnny buy Sento so that Kenshi would eventually come looking for it, considering that Liu Kang also likely new this would be the demise of Johnnys marriage. Him meeting Kenshi this way was more important than his literal wife. Not that the marriage wouldn’t likely end eventually anyways- just interesting that he felt the need to speed up the process]

Immediately we see he’s extremely disappointed in them for fighting, but what honestly did he expect? And I don’t mean that sarcastically- legitimately, why would he expect anything different? To Kenshi, Sento is the key to freeing and leading his family out of the Yakuzas grasp- nothing else matters to him at this point. To Johnny, Sento is a prized possession- one so important he let it get in the way of his marriage. He very clearly isn’t ready to let go of his old life (as evident through him attempting to pitch movie ideas to uninterested producers and flirt with a wife who’s been emotionally detached for quite some time), and he’s not letting go of Sento either. Sento means far too much to the both of them for either of them to let it go without a fight. However, while normally this would cause a significant rift in the relationship between the two people fighting over an object, this time the object seems to be the very thing forcing them together. But more on that later when I eventually analyze the scenes of them at the Wu Shi Academy! Lastly, I’d like to point out that even this early on in their relationship, Johnny is very clearly infatuated with Kenshi as a person. I mean imagine spending $3M on a sword because you find the history of one of the first families in Japan incredibly fascinating, just so that one day a supposed member of that presumably dead family breaks into your home demanding the sword. But Kenshi is cold, closed off, and (seemingly) completely uninterested in Johnny. And to me, this is what really reels Johnny in. Kenshi being Taira clan was already enough to get Johnny hooked- but add onto that that Kenshi doesn’t give a flying fuck about him? That just leaves room for gay pining baby!

#mk1 #mortal kombat #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnshi #i’m so normal about them #johnny x kenshi #I think about this a normal amount #god I love their slow burn #navi rambles about johnshi

[mamawasatesttube]

you guys i have so many thoughts about tdr. i have so much to say. like i don't want to be super mean but dude that comic fucking sucks and i can't lie i think it made me kind of homophobic actually

#my stance up to now has been that i don't really care about tim/ber but now that i have read this. dude... #it sucks that they gave a canon queer tim narrative to someone who uses homophobia as shock value and virtue signaling points #and who actively tears down characters who don't like her special little uwu flawless oc (kate im so fucking sorry) #there's no substance to this relationship i don't see why they even like each other #bc she keeps just stating oh they're perfect they make each other so happy but she doesn't like. show that at all #and i HATE the shock value homophobia like i cannot overstate how much i hate it #oh these random cops are homophobic (that's how you know they're BAD!) #oh bernard's parents are homophobic (that's how you know THEY'RE bad too!) #it's so hamfisted and it reads like such. cheap storytelling #especially bc tim as narrator doesn't even get to have ANY thoughts on his own queerness or seeing this homophobia in the world around him #and then she can't go more than two pages without being like BTW BERNARD IS THE BEST EVER AND TIM CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM #while against this ugly backdrop of shock value homophobia #there's no substance to this relationship. why do they even like each other. it just falls apart if you examine it at all #because she just is fundamentally incapable of writing either of them as people with character flaws #for fucks sake she can't even be consistent with tim's BASIC character tenets. ''i always dreamed of being batman'' false lmao #but then to follow it up with ''i never wanted to be batman i always wanted to be my dad'' #and then on TOP OF THAT to make the Only mention of Jack drake and his impact on tim's life ABOUT BERNARD AGAIN. #yeah sorry im a hater now. this was shit tier #rimi talks

[fallen-angel-adam-frankenstein]

Thinking about how the Big Four of dark academia really feels like the Big Three of dark academia that a last-minute addition was added onto, not because it’s any less a part of and representative of the aesthetic but because its mood and message differs so greatly from the other three - that last-minute addition being Dead Poets Society. Hear me out as I rant about character types, classism, doing it for the aesthetic, themes, tones, and substance abuse (and, obviously, spoiler warnings for Dead Poets Society, The Secret History, If We Were Villains, and Kill Your Darlings):

Firstly, I want to draw comparisons between who I consider to be the protagonists of each story, focusing a lot on how I feel that each of them has a barrier between himself and another group of people within the story. Starting with the one that I relate to the most and progressing in no organisational order after that, we have from The Secret History Richard Papen, an English major who came from an impoverished old town in California to the lovely little college in Hampden, Vermont on account of loads and loads of scholarships. Fascinated and a bit infatuated with the Greek class, he is able through partly his own talent but mostly dumb luck to join their ranks, only to find out that the people he admired and romanticised are all a bunch of classist, selfish, rich addicts. Desperately wanting to be a part of this group, Richard has to break the financial barrier (as well as the seclusion engineered by Julian) between him and them in order to get in with the “cool kids.” However, this doesn’t work out for him at the end, as he doesn’t even get invited to their bacchanal or Bunny’s murder and yet has to suffer for the fallout of both events. It’s made clear that this is not the kind of life you want to live, and Richard even returns to California after the main body of the book concludes. Allen Ginsberg of Kill Your Darlings is confronted with a similar barrier, although his is less financial (he’s well-off enough to make it to college without scholarships) and more the sort of subcultural difference between the life he left at home and how Lu and his friends live. Just like Richard, he risks and loses it all to gain the affection of this new group, who, just like in TSH, leave him high and dry in the end. Oliver Marks also risks it all for his group in If We Were Villains, although they don’t necessarily abandon him in the same sense and really he alienates himself by taking the fall for Richard (Stirling)’s death. His barrier is also mainly financial, as he ends up having to pay for Dellecher through scholarships and a work-study deal, something which you can tell he is ashamed about (hmm classicism -_-) as he tries to hide it from the rest of the group, who can all afford the school on their own (or their families can). Since this story differs from the rest because it starts off with Oliver already a part of the tightly-knit group, you can’t really talk about him vying for approval as in TSH or Kill Your Darlings, but the sense of him being a part of a slightly different world is still there. Meanwhile, you don’t get this same sense in DPS. I maintain that Neil is the central figure in DPS, but for the sake of this let’s look at Todd, who does have to make his way into the group after it was already formed. Todd’s barrier is not financial but all in his own head: his social anxiety and awkwardness prevents him from initiating a relationship with any of the other Dead Poets. Because he has this different kind of barrier, it’s easier for him to overcome it, and it turns out well for him in the end, while it doesn’t for the protagonists of the other three stories.

Besides that, the other characters also play a role in how DPS feels separate from the other three. All four dark academia stories are about rich kids at their core, but DPS is the only one that doesn’t feel like it’s about rich kids. Why is that? I think it’s because of how they chose to present the characters. In TSH, the whole main cast, essentially, sucks - Henry is full of it, Bunny has all sorts of problems, Charles is an abusive drunkard, not to mention his incestuous relationship with Camilla, and Francis knows about this relationship and is fine with it, even being fine to casually fuck Charles on top of it (and he’s classist as fuck, but that’s a discussion for a later date). You might think, “oh, but Richard isn’t too bad” - yeah, but he did let them all get away with not one but two murders and was only worried about Charles abusing and fucking Camilla because he felt attraction to Camilla himself, so. Anyway, my point is that everyone in the Greek class is either a rich asshole or wants to be like the rich assholes, so that’s not good. There’s a similar thing in Kill Your Darlings where they’re all addicts and alcoholics and people who generally don’t give a fuck about how other people react to their drama and fun times, and you can see how Lu even uses David and later Allen and then throws them both away casually. Yeah, they have a cool vision of revolutionising poetry, but they’re not really characters that one can necessarily relate to, because they’re all just too caught up in themselves. IWWV, too - you don’t see this as much, but it comes out a bit when Oliver hides in shame the fact that he has to work to pay for school. While IWWV has a cast of characters that I can relate to and like the most out of the three I’ve talked about so far, there’s still a little bit of disconnect, an unattainability about them, and it’s clear that they’re all deeply fucked: Richard, before he died, was an abusive asshole, James killed Richard and then not only started mirroring him a bit when he hurt Oliver but then let Oliver while away ten years of his life in prison for Richard’s death (and either killed himself or faked his death), Alexander got even worse into drugs and then presumably got clean but man did he have PTSD from that school year, Meredith is surrounded by men lusting after her and feels lonely, Wren also has PTSD from that school year, and Filippa . . . got into a relationship with her teacher and we don’t talk about this? So while they’re three-dimensional, engaging, and entertaining, they’re all still just plain messed up. However, the Dead Poets aren’t like this. Obviously, there’s Neil’s suicide, but that’s different - it’s not messed up because he was already messed up, it’s messed up because the authority figures in his life (excluding Keating) messed him up themselves, breaking his spirit with the pressure they put on him and with the criticism of his passion. But to the point, in the sense of the characterisation of the main cast, DPS feels different from the other three because the Dead Poets are three-dimensional, engaging, entertaining, and even likeable in a way that the characters from the other three are not. And they’re all rich enough to attend a very well-to-do private boarding school, but they’re not stuck-up and classist, in fact hardly ever bringing up matters of money and even making fun of the Danburrys a bit. They feel more accessible than any other group does, which is what I respect about them.

And last but not least, the message. As far as the moods/tones and themes of the Big Four go, DPS is the only one with any sort of hope at the ending, and the only one with a “true” aesthetic for the characters to chase. The three of the dark academia Big Four all focus on taking something too far and it going horribly wrong - the Greek class gets so into studying the Classics that they have a bacchanal and kill a man and then kill a man to prevent him from telling someone that they killed a man, which leads to yet another man dead and the rest of them unhappy; the Dellecher fourth-years get so into Shakespeare and the roles they play/their typecasts that Richard ends up dead, Oliver ends up in prison, James ends up either dead or faking his death, and everyone else suffers like I mentioned earlier; and in Kill Your Darlings, David ends up dead, Lu ends up in prison, and Allen ends up expelled. TSH has a very bleak epilogue - Richard is confused and yearning, Charles is still drunk and who-knows-where cut off from the rest of them, Camilla has her dying grandmother to worry about, Henry and Bunny are dead, and Francis is forcing himself to marry a woman he doesn’t even like as a person, let alone not being physically attracted to her whole-ass gender, because he would rather make himself miserable than be cut off from the financial support of his family. Donna Tartt leaves us with a depressing, unsatisfying ending - which is all part of the theme, but I’ll get to its relation to DPS later. All in all, TSH’s tone is a very dark one, and its message to not let yourself get so caught up in the aesthetic that you let yourself fall/sacrifice your morals (and also not to idolise rich assholes because they can and will use you and ruin your life), while relevant and important, is far from inspiring or uplifting. Similarly, they go too far in IWWV, pursuing Shakespeare until it fucks them all up, and it has a similar theme to TSH. Its ending, while I like it better than TSH’s, is still quite pessimistic; there’s a little glimmer of possibility there, but not really all that much, and you get the sense that things are never going to fix themselves. In Kill Your Darlings, too, Lu and Allen get so caught up in the New Vision that they let the rest of their lives fall apart around them, and the ending is a bit confused and “meh.” DPS, however, has a lot of hope in its ending. Yes, Neil’s death was sad, and so was Keating taking the fall for it, but despite that, Keating is able to walk out of that classroom with a smile on his face; the ending isn’t entirely sad, it’s bittersweet. DPS’s message is all about carpe diem, seize the day, make your lives extraordinary, and they all presumably go on to do that (except Neil, who died because he was unable to do that). While the aesthetic the characters chase in TSH sort of hinges on their rich assholery, the aesthetic the characters chase in IWWV more or less depends on their isolation and general fucked-up-ness, and the aesthetic the characters chase in Kill Your Darlings is pretty much based on substance abuse and not giving a fuck, all of which lead to their lives being ruined on varying levels, the aesthetic the characters chase in DPS not only doesn’t really ruin their lives and also seems to be much more attainable in a tangible way. While Keating loses his job, he’s able to walk out of the classroom with a smile on his face because he knows that he did what he came there to do - he inspired his students to live life to the fullest and think for/be true to themselves, which is actually a quite healthy aesthetic to strive for, especially compared to the other ones I’ve talked about. The ending of DPS isn’t entirely happy, but there’s so much hope in it, something which the other three lack, and because of that, it feels separate from them.

Anyway yeah. I’m not going to write a big ol’ conclusion because I’ve already taken up so much space, but yeah. Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk lol.

#dark academia aesthetic #dark academia #dark academic aesthetic #dark academic #dark academism #academia aesthetic #dark academia books #dead poets society #dps #the secret history #tsh #donna tartt #kill your darlings #if we were villains #iwwv #ml rio #richard papen #oliver marks #allen ginsberg #neil perry

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Mort: Ragnarick" was pure fun, but a different kind of fun than "Rickfending Your Mort" and "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie."

"Rickfending Your Mort" was a laid-back clip show that gave the viewer a break after the insanity of "Unmortricken"--a smart decision but not one with a lot of substance. "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie" has been controversial. I thought it was entertaining, but it would've worked better as a YouTube short.

If "Unmortricken" represented lore episodes at their best, "Mort: Ragnarick" was the best of classic Rick and Morty adventures: a wildly imaginative plot, goofy satire, fantasy science and Rick and Morty working together as a duo, reminding us how much they need each other.

Rick's the driving force behind these adventures, but without Morty, he's just a miserable old man trying to distract himself. Morty's the heart and voice of reason. He also gives Rick something to live for. Without him, Beth, Jerry or Summer, why do anything?

Rick pretends to live for science, but "science" just caused decades of grief and isolation. His family isn't a concept; it's an entity that loves him back.

Bigfoot, an evil pope, Pokeballs, Valhalla, clone bodies, infinite energy sources, zombie Summer, Rick screaming "PO-O-O-O-OPE!": only Rick and Morty could combine all those concepts into one cohesive episode. I never thought "Wow, that took me out of the story." The Pokeball came close, but the end credits scene tied it all together.

Jerry's scene was a standout, too. Chris Parnell's reading of "Nana!" was genuinely sweet. It seems like Jerry's becoming a (mostly) willing participant in Rick's schemes instead of a helpless guinea pig. Is Rick learning that releasing his iron grip on his family makes them more attached to him, not less?

I also loved it when the Vikings called Rick a witch. He loves crystals, plays with magic, has two crows as familiars: damn right, he is!

You have to suspend your disbelief a couple of times, mainly when Bigfoot attacks Rick in the kitchen (he crushed Rick earlier like it was nothing, but now Rick walks away with a few scratches?) Still, the little character moments overshadow these flaws.

Judging by old posts that I've seen floating around, I think Rick and Morty's relationship is finally becoming what fans wanted it to be in seasons 1-3. Rick's still mean, but he's less dominant and more of Morty's mischievous co-conspirator. An alien mobster freaking out in "The Jerrick Trap" because of Rick's "touch my grandson and die" policy is straight out of fanon.

Rick's more physically gentle, and Morty responds in kind. He grabs and supports him when Bigfoot attacks him at home and touches his arm during their weird, overdramatic Bigfoot send-off. His pained cry of "Rick!" when Bigfoot nearly crushes him is heart-wrenching. Operation Phoenix is back online, but Morty's tired of watching him die!

Season five is when Rick started showing emotions on his face besides that cold, pissed-off glare--we all know the one--and in season seven, it's accelerated to Rick crying in front of others. He matches Morty's feelings instead of pretending that he's above human emotions.

Needless to say, dudebros have been flooding Adult Swim's Instagram comments and Twitter replies with "Rick and Morty is shit now!" "Rick's too nice!" "Rick and Morty has gone woke!" Justin Roiland's firing gave them more fuel, but they started even while he was still on the payroll.

Their favorite line is "Rick isn't Rick anymore!" And they're right. Rick's not the asshole from seasons 1-2 who had a couple of redeeming qualities. He's not the monster that he was in season three and parts of season four. He's not the defeated man in season five who started to realize that he's hurting people but still wanted Morty to look after him like a child.

Season six is when he started to grow up--not a lot, but enough that he began taking on adult responsibilities instead of thinking he's a teenage boy who sees another teenager as his peer. I wish we saw more therapy appointments, but while they're mostly off-screen, we're definitely seeing the effects.

This doesn't make Rick a great person or atone for what he's done. Some of his crimes are beyond atonement, and not just the obvious ones like blowing up planets. This is a universe where everyone has a body count and events that should've destroyed Earth have no effect on civilization. Death and destruction don't mean that much.

His worst crimes are the personal ones: destroying Morty's psyche in "The Vat of Acid Episode," treating his family like garbage for most of season three. You can't atone for that. You can't apologize for that.

However, I don't only judge characters by their past. I judge them by their capacity to change.

Walter White is a brilliant character, but he's not a personal favorite because his arc is a slow descent into hell. Rick's slowly climbing out of his crater, and while it doesn't erase the past, it's still happening. For me, that's more satisfying than watching a monster become a bigger monster.

Of course, he's still not above cosplaying as Odin while wearing a golden crown that literally says "GOD." But the former "no girls allowed" alpha male has become a dedicated therapy patient who's also a thirst object that would make bros cry about double standards. Sure, Rick, you're a god, now put on that weird half-shirt and prance around a little.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #review #mort: ragnarick #season seven

[mauesartetc]

Is it me, or is Vivziepop bad at writing romantic relationships? It feels like she wants to write "problematic", drama-filled romance where the characters start out toxic, there are misunderstandings, betrayals etc cuz the show is supposed to be about "problematic gays", and that's perfectly valid, but she can't write chemistry. So far, it feels like Blitzo clings to Stolas because he's afraid he will end up alone and unloved, but doesn't actually care for him as a person. He often looks uncomfortable with Stolas' flirting even if he reciprocates sometimes.

I've seen couples in children's media with much better written-relationships and chemistry, like Roxanne and Megamind. It's clear they enjoy each other's company, they have mutual banter and flirting and he respects her intelligence.

I know Stolitz is supposed to be "toxic" pre-character development but at this point it still sucks that so far, it's impossible to tell what the characters like about each other other than the sex.

(I've been told that Stolas enjoys how Blitzo made him laugh when they met during the circus but that's not been developed enough as a concept to count).

Yeah here's a thought: When has he made Stolas laugh during adulthood?! Where was that moment? What do they even have in common other than liking dudes?

Oh shit. I think I get why fans of this show accuse critics of being homophobic. It's because this relationship has literally no substance other than "they're gay". (Or Stolas might be, anyway. Their specific orientations are never clarified in the show that I can recall.) Oh, you don't like this mlm relationship? You must hate ALL mlm relationships. Funny how the fans are the ones fixated on that aspect while no one I've seen criticize the show has ever cited the homoerotica as evidence that this relationship sucks. No, it sucks because there's absolutely no depth to it. There's nothing to make us root for it to work.

Sure, the characters have their own personalities as individuals, and there's potential for chemistry in how those personalities and backgrounds oppose each other, but the show never explores it. What would happen if Stolas tried to fit into Blitzo's poverty-stricken school of hard knocks, or if Blitzo tried to fit in with high society? What if they just had a conversation about what life has been like for each of them? Where are the bonding moments that show us this is more than just a transactional arrangement (or at least that it could be)? What made Stolas suddenly fall in love with Blitzo offscreen between Episodes 6 and 7, after treating him like an object the entire season? Why the fuck does he care if Blitzo comes to see him in the hospital or not? Why should we care as viewers?

Funny enough, this neat video by LocalScriptMan just came out (check out this channel, seriously), and it talks about going deeper into writing relationships than just smashing two characters with differing personalities together. Again, differing personalities can create potential for chemistry (as each character learns new perspectives from the other), but a pairing of opposites isn't chemistry in and of itself.

If Helluva Boss's writers gave us a good mlm relationship with actual substance, more power to 'em! Maybe we'll get one with Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, but... ehh. It's doubtful at this point.

#helluva boss #helluva critical #writing #anti stolitz #romantic chemistry #relationships #shipping #ask #chinesegal

[chubs-deuce]

I wish Hazbin Hotel made me care more about Chaggie...

It is a very cute ship and I'm happy they made up again in the finale, but I also can't help but feel like it lacks? So much substance?

Which is sad, because I really did want so badly to fall in love with them, but their chemistry just falls kind of flat for me, like it's hardly been explored properly.

All of their interactions are positive and supportive, but ultimately just very surface level kinds of wholesome and sweet...

I don't dislike them, far from it, but I really wish the show had focused on them a bit more thoroughly, and given us more reasons to substantiate why they care about and love each other - and in extension, why we as the audience should too. I'm ngl, I felt like Angel and Husk had more substance to their developing bond than Charlie and Vaggie had all season... And those two aren't even anywhere close to being together yet.

The show does minimally bite into more of Charlie's and Vaggie's relationship with the trust fall incident and Whatever It Takes, but even that song was only partially focused on Vaggie, split in focus on a completely different character - kind of like her relationship with Charlie is more of an afterthought? I feel like that should've maybe been more of a solo song focusing on just Vaggie, properly exploring more layers of her character and her relationship to Charlie, underlining them more as equals to each other.

Speaking of... I also can't help but feel like a large part of Vaggie's character is always tangentially tied to Charlie one way or another, like she's not really her own person outside of being paired with her - being protective of Charlie, giving advice to Charlie, helping managing the hotel for Charlie - while Charlie feels much more like a fleshed out and properly realized person that functions well on her own outside of this relationship too.

I understand that Vaggie's past as an exorcist gave her a very military flavored, screwed idea of self that lacked a lot of individuality - so it's not like her having not quite found herself as a person yet can't be reasoned within the narrative, but it also isn't ever actually used as a deliberate plotpoint.

I just feel like I barely know her as a character, and maybe if the show had more room to breathe for the plot and characters to develop more naturally, the momentary tension between them after the big twist reveal and their subsequent quick and imo much too easy reconciliation would've also actually impacted me more :')

Maybe in the future seasons this will change...

But as of now, I unfortunately still find them kind of uninteresting and am sad that they could have had so much more depth and substance than they currently do.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel spoilers #anti chaggie #not actually against it tbf but I don't wanna rain on anyone's parade with my criticism either - alas the blockable anti tag <3 #Y'all deserve your cute fallen angel and demon princess lesbians in peace #chubs rambles