#(I wanna fuck that old man but he’s fictional)

[hinderr]

Anyway ive decided. Worst feeling in the world is realising youve inherited your father's temper

#spending a prolonged period of time alone with a man will make you Realise a good couple of things #ty for everyone who wished things are working well regarding the old man and the hospital by the way. big appreciate #anyway in other news; local fictional Fathers enjoyer is reminded of why he in particular enjoys The Trope #fucking. hell. and i have to go again tomorrow too #i dont even know if i wanna complain. no actually i mean if i CAN complain. cause he does so much for me #but DAMN motherfucker could be a bit NICER going about it #anyway 👍no worries. leaving soon and all my problems will surely disappear and i can stand to be alive in my own house again #. i wish i liked him

[ashenxrogue]

forever mourning the fact FE Fates came out my senior year of high school, i got into it 3 years later, and then it took 3 more years for me to get a semi-disposable income in which to buy merch with

i just want more Niles merch and i keep finding things people made like 5 years ago that i very obviously cant buy now

#oh shit i need a new text post tag huh #dont feel like reusing the old one sooooo #jordans thought spirals #listen niles is literally my favorite fictional character #i relate too god damn much to this man i fuckin swear #he has lived rent free in my brain for 6 fucking years and oops would you look at that #its been six years and im still fully invested in my FE Fates verse #my hyper fixation will not die #i just wanna throw money at people for Niles merch but first i have to find people who are still making FE Fates merch in the year 2022

[pr0ximamidnight]

god gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers (i wanna fuck that Old Man but he is fictional)

#yes this is about joel miller

[bunny-xoxo]

Take It Slow

MINORS DNI

Yuuta Okkotsu x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): established relationship, friends to lovers implied, heavy petting, fingering, masturbation, oral (reader receiving), choking (reader receiving), instance of breath play as a result, slight corruption kink from Yuuta, inexperienced reader, a single instance of slightly mean Yuuta, reader’s chest anatomy is not referenced/described

a/n: first NSFW piece in a VERY long time, was picked from the poll so here you go! hope you all enjoy :)! Also jus wanna say there is NOTHING weird or wrong about being a virgin at any age just so you guys know <33 🫶 also in case it needs to be said, this is an unrealistic portrayal of participating in kink for the first time! Boundaries and safety should be discussed at length before these things, but this is fiction so just wanted to make that clear 😭🤍 anyways enjoy <3

“Yuuta, stop! I don’t wanna talk about it!” You whined and buried your face further into his chest hoping to spare yourself of the embarrassment from the conversation you’re sure the two of you are about to have.

“Sweetheart, I’m your boyfriend, you knew it was gonna come up sooner or later. Besides, you’re literally the one who started the conversation! There’s no way you’re getting out of it now.” He let out a few boyish chuckles as he tried to pry your face away from him and out of the covers, just to see you pressing your lips together and closing your eyes in protest.

Sure, did you figure at some point the fact you haven’t gone farther than holding hands and sharing a few quick pecks was gonna be brought up? Probably. Especially after 4 whole months of being in a relationship? Maybe. Did you think it’d be right now? No! But is it your fault? Unfortunately, yes.

You’d known Yuuta long before the two of you started dating, having been apart of his friend group since freshman year of high school, and you’ve always had a secret crush on your friend. He was kind, never failed to make you smile, charmingly awkward (so charming you almost thought he faked it), & all things endearing. It wasn’t until a few months ago, now in your fourth and final year at University, that the two of you had confessed your feelings for the other. You had a bottle of tequila and Maki to thank for that.

And honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect since. He was still sweeter than ever, a complete gentleman always, and even though it’d only been a couple months he’s never failed to make you constantly feel cared for and appreciated. There was only one problem: how were you supposed to tell him you’ve lied about every instance of you hooking up ever? And you haven’t even done so much as grind on someone, let alone fuck?

Maybe you could blame it on Yuuji, he’s the one who brought it up the first time anyways, innocently teasing you about how “you probably don’t even know how to give head”. He was 16, and all 16 year old boys are stupid as shit - besides Yuuta you suppose - so you’ll forgive him for it.

“Fuck you Yuuji, you’re just saying that cause you’re embarrassed you can’t last longer than 10 seconds inside a girl.”

“That literally happened once, and it was my first time! What, you’re telling me your first time was any better?”

It was just humiliating to think of looking at your friends, who definitely weren’t virgins anymore (besides Toge, maybe Toge, you never really trusted his whole story - but that’s beside the point), and tell them yeah no, I haven’t even seen a dick in person!

“No, he was ass, too.” You did your best to not draw attention to the way your palms were sweating profusely, fighting every instinct in you to wipe them off on the denim of your jeans.

“Yep, fits the bill.” Mai rolled her eyes at the thought of her own experience with a man, must’ve been pretty bad.

It’d make more sense to blame it on your age than Yuuji really, looking back it wouldn’t have been embarrassing for more than a couple weeks at most to have admitted you were a virgin when the matter was pressed. But that’s not what past you thought, and now it’s current you’s problem.

“I know, I know, but now I change my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Your lips are pushed out and puckered slightly from the way Yuuta has your cheeks squished together - his best effort at making you smile right now.

He lets go of your cheeks to squeeze your shoulder gently, looking at your face for a moment before speaking softly.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’d never judge you for anything, make comments, nothing. Swear on it.” His voice dipped low with sincerity as he dramatically “crossed his heart and hoped to die”, it was a little goofy but that’s okay.

It was hard to speak while he was staring down at you like that, you knew he’d be nothing but gentle and kind, but the thought of actually talking about it made your stomach twist ‘n turn.

“Uh”, your voice trembled more than you’d like to admit and it did nothing to help your nerves, “I guess I asked what you’d do if I lied about not being a virgin cause, I’m, like, a virgin. Yeah.” You might’ve stumbled through your sentence, but you got there eventually.

His hand continued to rub circles on your skin as he spoke, “Well, I kind of figured that much when you first asked that, cause why else would you. Is that all you wanted to tell me though?”

Glancing up to meet his eyes, you were confused, visibly confused. Was that it? Was he really not gonna pester about why you lied, when you lied, or why you’re grown and still a virgin?

You squinted your eyes and hummed quietly, unreasonably suspicious of him - which he could clearly see.

Rolling his eyes playfully, he groaned out your name and pulled your face close to his so you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to.

“Ya know, I was kind of talking about the first question you asked me. The one before you cut me off and changed the subject with the whole ‘I’m a virgin thing.’ I want to talk to you about that.”

You’re sure you were listening, it’s just that his face was so close to you that his breath was intermingling with yours, and you could practically taste the gum he was chewing while studying earlier. Not only that but his eyelashes were so pretty and doll like from this angle, looking up at him with his hands still on your cheeks. And his hands were so warm and soft - or was your face warm?

“Are you really ignoring me right now?” He wondered where your mind wandered to, cause clearly with the way you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes and invisible stars circling around your head - you couldn’t have been listening to him.

“Huh?”

Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening to him.

“Baby, are you okay with talking about what you asked me earlier? It’s okay if the answer is no.” His eyes were glued to your face as your own darted around the room.

You wanted to speak up but your throat was dry and your face was hot, and honestly it felt like your jaw was wired shut; a simple nod will have to do.

It felt like the room was getting smaller at the lack of a response from Yuuta until you felt him lean just a tad closer and gently press his lips to your cheek, “would you rather me show you how I take care of myself, or tell you?”

Oh.

Goosebumps rose along the back of your neck and down your arms at the soft volume of his voice in your ear and the way his breath fanned across your cheek.

“Both, please.” The tenor of your voice matched his as your hands fiddled nervously with the hem of your shirt, unsure what to with them while he moved to give you a kiss and sit up in front you.

The embarrassment of how you asked Yuuta how to give a hand job from earlier began to fade and be replaced with curiosity and eagerness at the sight of Yuuta reaching down to palm at himself.

It was still embarrassing, staring so shamelessly at his growing bulge in obvious intrigue and desire, but it was Yuuta, and Yuuta would never make you feel bad for having human urges and wanting him in this way.

Hesitantly, once he was ready, he tugged at the fabric of his pajama pants until he was fully exposed. He was happy you were so needy and awe struck at the sight of him, because your undivided attention to the way his cock sits in his hand is making him blush.

He spreads his legs just as much as the stretch of his bottoms let him while he dips forward to drip spit in the direction of his lap, his wrist catching the fabric of his shirt and exposing a tease of his lower stomach as he spreads the spit along the length of his cock. Leaning back into a more comfortable position, you take in the way he’s exposed himself to you, his stomach visibly clenching as he rubs his thumb along the slit at the tip of his cock.

It was firm in his hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together from where you sat watching at the vulgarity of it all. His loud and unashamed whimpering, his leaking and twitchy cock, and the way his eyes were never closed, always watching your face, when you would flick your own up to get a peek at his reactions.

You thought maybe he’d be a little more bashful, slow and careful with what he wanted to show you, but if anything, it seems like he’s been waiting for you to ask.

“You like watching me stroke my cock, hm baby?”

Your clit began to throb at the sudden recognition and reminder that you’re involved just as much as he is, as well as the sound of him speaking, and speaking directly at you.

“Answer me angel, even a nod’s okay. Wanna make sure my baby’s feeling good.” His voice was hoarse, but soft, and the sentiment did nothing more than increase your arousal and send butterflies rampant in your stomach.

Settling further into the situation, and gaining some confidence in return, you make your way over to him slowly as you nod your head.

“Want you to tell me, Yuuta.” Your voice is small, quiet.

“Tell you what, pretty?”

He’s got an air of fake innocence around him as he speaks but you couldn’t care less when you’re so close that you can hear his soft and barely audible panting, and smell the light scent of musk and sweat begin to gather along his clothed skin from his excitement and exertion. You’d give him anything he wants at this point, and you’re certain he knows it.

“Yuuta,”, you whine and move in his direction, hovering over his lap with his cock not quite close enough to press against your covered cunt as he strokes himself, “want you to tell me how it feels.”

The pair of you groan together at the lewdness of it all, both of you reveling in the freedom to finally explore your deep attraction for another, no longer embarrassed or fearful to admit or indulge in it.

“Fuck, feels so good baby. ‘M so hard with you watching me like this. You like knowing you’ve got me and my cock this needy without even touching me?” Whining at his response, you lean into him and sloppily place your lips on his, ignoring the urge to smack him on his chest as he chuckles a, “yeah?”, into your mouth at your eagerness.

You both kiss, messy and loud, as you reach and drag your hand down his torso, lightly drawing circles onto Yuuta’s exposed lower stomach with your fingertips.

A strained groan comes from him at the sensation, sighing into your mouth as he sits up to be impossibly closer to you. It was all too much.

He could feel the heat from your body as your thighs squeeze him from each side, hear the crude noises your pussy makes each time you adjust, and he could just imagine how needy your poor cunt would smell. Feeling his stomach tighten and his head get cloudy, he knew he was close, and he wanted you to watch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come baby.” Yuuta’s lips were soft and slick with spit as he spoke against yours, while you felt a hand slide from the back of your neck up to the top of your head, turning you to face down and stare at the way his fist was feverishly tugging at his cock.

“Want my sweetheart to watch how hard they’re gonna make me come, how good they’re taking care of me and my cock.” His voice was strained and low, out of breath, and if you weren’t desperate to watch his cock get some release, you would have protested at the sudden lack of kissing.

“Please, need you to show me baby.” You whined and wrapped your hand around Yuuta’s wrist gently, moving in time with the way he was stroking himself.

Hearing your voice was all he needed to let himself go, throwing his head back and getting his sternum sticky with cum as it stained his t-shirt. His balls and cock twitched as he slowed down his movements, whining when he rubs the tip once more, not wanting it to be over. If it wasn’t for the way you were still hovering over his lap, he would’ve let himself stay like this for a while longer, catching his breath and resting his eyes.

But he could see how bad you needed him, your chest heaving and your body hot against his.

Pulling you into his chest, he speaks against your shoulder softly between gentle kisses, “Want me to take care of you too, baby?”

Your body jolts at the prospect, nerves riddling your muscles and your stomach, making you feel almost weak. The thought made you self-conscious just as much as it made you feel exhilarated, but you couldn’t deny the way your cunt was throbbing and hot. You needed him bad, and you could trust Yuuta. You always could.

Words were too hard, like they often were with him in intimate moments like this (the thought of your first date briefly crosses your mind), so you substitute a pleading “yes” for another messy, longing kiss.

“I got you angel,”, was all he said before you were leaned back on the pillows, Yuuta hovering above you with soft wisps of his hair tickling the sides of your face.

You knew you could trust Yuuta, he always knows what his baby needs.

Delicate fingers graze across your side until they reach the waist band of your bottoms, running back and forth along the top as Yuuta chuckles softly at the way your stomach twitches, waiting for a sign of permission.

A warm hand tugging Yuuta’s in the direction of your heat is all he needs before sliding his hand between your thighs to rub heavy and slow circles onto your clit beneath your shorts.

“Oh, god.” You breathe out and close your eyes, letting him take his time in making you feel good.

Your hole ached every time he dipped a finger down to tease your entrance, gathering more of your arousal to rub into your puffy clit. He was such a tease even when he didn’t mean to be, couldn’t he tell you needed him inside? Can’t he imagine how empty your poor hole feels? Doesn’t he know how often you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers or favorite toy, imagining it’s really him inside instead?

“Yuuta.”

The desperate call of his name makes his stomach flip, eyes quickly searching across your face for a sign of discomfort, “‘M here baby, what do you need?”

Sitting up slowly, your face stops inches from his as you shimmy your way out of your bottoms. Laying back down, you open your legs wide and spread your pussy for Yuuta to see, another hand rubbing at your clit slowly.

“‘S too empty, baby.” You fight back the hot wave of embarrassment that floods your body at your crudeness and use all your will power to stay still, cunt on full display, as you watch Yuuta’s breath quicken and his hand snake down to tug at his cock again despite the slight sensitivity he’s still feeling.

He doesn’t give you much time to linger on your sheepishness before you’re tugged further down the bed by the grip he takes on both of your thighs, his tongue impatiently shoved into your mouth with a loud whimper. You both stay like this a little while longer than you would have liked, his tongue running along the inside of your mouth before he has yours between his lips, switching between sucking on it loudly and licking at the saliva that drips down onto your chin.

God, he was so dirty.

Unable to beg for more, you attempt to wrap your legs up and around his midsection, hoping he’ll catch the hint, but instead you’re stopped by a firm placement of his hand on your inner thigh.

“‘Scuse me, beautiful.” His voice is hoarser than before as he speaks softly against your neck, leaving hasty kisses on any exposed skin while scooting down the bed, landing with his face between your legs.

You could have cried when you felt his tongue poke and prod at your hole, pushing in and moaning loudly before licking long and slow up to your clit. His tongue flicks back and forth as he keeps your lips spread with one hand, deciding to then take his time licking and dragging his tongue between every fold before coming back to suck on your clit.

A strangled groan vibrates deep within your chest as you tug on his hair to bring him impossibly closer to your cunt, as if he needed to devour you whole, while you no longer fought the way your hips were grinding down and writhing beneath Yuuta’s grip. It’s not until you finally feel a finger push inside, slender and slow, that you begin to incoherently beg and whine for more.

It doesn’t take many half-spoken pleas for him to get the idea you need more.

“Ah, Yuuta!” You whimper and internally battle between trying to squirm away and press yourself even further into his mouth, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his two fingers inside pumping in and out of you with his mouth nipping and sucking at your clit.

He sits up, kneeling between you to watch the way you take what he’s giving you.

“Yeah?”, his voice is uncharacteristically cocky and out of breath, “Feels good, baby?”

He was going to be the death of you.

If it wasn’t for the way Yuuta was placed between your thighs, your efforts to clamp them shut would be working. It was all too much, but so fucking good.

“Ah- fuck, oh, oh my god - Yuuta please make me come. Wanna come so bad!” You arch your back and attempt to sit up to reach him, needing him closer, but a hand on your chest pushes you back down and slides up until it rests wrapped around your throat.

“Mmm, I’ll give it to you baby, just want you stay right there. Wanna see what you look like when I make you finish for the first time.” His hand wasn’t holding tight, it was merely keeping you in your spot beneath him, but you wanted him to grab you tighter.

With a shaky hand, you reached to hold onto his wrist like your life depended on it,

“Please choke me.”

His fingers stopped curling into you for maybe a second before he continued, his mouth parting slightly as a gentle moan fell from his lips.

Did you really just ask him that?

You closed your eyes in bliss when he squeezed gently, instinctually doing your best to grind down onto his hand, but it wasn’t enough.

“T-tighter, please.”

It took everything in you to open your eyes and see his reaction, a slight amount of shame building up in your stomach for requesting something that felt so dirty - but all embarrassment fizzled out where it sat when you saw the way he was staring down at you.

Nothing was said as he squeezed you tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Tap me twice if it’s too much.” You’re not sure when he leaned down to speak lowly to you, but his breath fanning across the side of your neck and face sends chills down your body.

You’re so lost in the pleasure of it all you can only nod when he takes your hand to show you exactly how he wants you to tap against his wrist if you can’t take it anymore.

He sits back up and smiles to himself as he takes you in. You look so.. so.. so pathetic like this. And what, all because he’s got two of his fingers fucking your pussy? Cause he’s the first person to ever make you feel this way?

The latter thought makes his dick twitch and pick up the pace of his fingers until even you can register the crude squelching coming from between your thighs. Thankfully for you, you’re too full of bliss to care - fuck you were so close, and he knows it, too.

Your eyes shoot open when his grip is tightened even more, making it so you can only take in shallow and shaky breaths.

“Gonna have to come around my fingers if you want me to loosen up.” It wasn’t a question of how much you could take, it was a matter of how far you wanted him to go to make you see stars. And apparently this was it with the way he could feel you clench around him at his words, your thighs starting to thrash and shake.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty. My dirty little cunt, huh?” His voice was so misleadingly soft. His register was still high, slightly whiny, but you knew it was all to mock you and your fucked out state. If anything, Yuuta was the one being so dirty, and you were thankful for it.

It was hot, so hot, and you could hear your heart pounding in your head, and you could feel how tight you were clenching around his fingers.

Unable to fight off the feeling and attempt to last a second longer, your body shook as you came hard around Yuuta’s fingers, your nails digging into the forearm of the hand still wrapped around your throat. He kept it there for a brief few moments into your orgasm before letting go to immediately bring his fingers down to your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm for as long as you could handle.

The first full breath you took was loud and followed by an even louder mantra of thank you’s and please’s. It took a soft and slow kiss from Yuuta to quiet your whimpers, and warm, and undeniably semi-sticky hands, rubbing tenderly into your thighs and arms.

You both stayed like that for a while, Yuuta above you with his hands rubbing your muscles carefully, kissing slow and catching your breath while sharing gentle sentiments of love and reassurance. Much to your surprise, you were the first to speak a full sentence as you both relaxed into a more comfortable position.

“Ya know”, your voice had a slight hoarseness to it now, most likely from your earlier activities, “I don’t think I like knowing someone else has gotten to see you like this.”

He brings his head up to rest on his palm with a crooked smile, leaning forward until his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke,

“Yeah? You the jealous type baby?”

This time, you did smack him. And hard.

“Ow?” Yuuta pouts, pretending to be appalled, and rubs circles into his chest as if you had actually smacked him hard enough to feel like anything more than a friendly pat.

His request for an apology is brushed off and amended with a kiss, from which you receive no protest, as you sink further into the comfort of his embrace and, now dirty but once very clean, sheets.

“How about we clean up n get some rest, okay baby?” He sounds distant and quiet when he speaks, his heartbeat louder in your ears than his voice with your head pressed into his chest.

Sighing and shaking his head, he leans down to kiss the top of your head with a small smile. Laundry and a shower can wait a few more minutes if it means he gets to have you like this for even a little bit longer.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @alert-arlert (I think you asked to be tagged in this??? If not I’m sorry !! This was like a literal year ago I started this so 😭🫶) @touyaz (only cause you liked the snippet 🤭) if you’d like to be added just lemme know!!

#tw choking #tw breath play #jjk smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu smut

[inorganicone2230]

Like Hoarded Gold (Part 1) Yandere!Gojo/Geto x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo are complete strangers to you, but when they unexpectedly learn of the tragic news that has irrevocably shattered your life to pieces, the two of them become determined to help you and make you happy again, whether you want them to or not.

Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just the guys being nosy creeps for now.

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this or any future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

“Come on, babe.”

Satoru Gojo moaned shamelessly into the kiss he shared with his lifelong friend and romantic partner, Suguru Geto, as he pressed the dark haired man down into the gym mat of the darkened storeroom they had snuck into.

“You're so fucking needy.” 

Suguru playfully taunted him, even as he groaned and pawed at the other young man just as desperately, his hands finally finding purchase on Satoru’s hips so he could grind their still clothed and aching erections together.

They’d had a break between lectures and when Satoru had teasingly suggested that the two of them find a quiet spot for a quicky, he had been more than happy to agree, which was how they now found themselves in their current situation; namely, the two of them laid out on an old mat in the storeroom of the college gym, desperately dry-humping one another.

“You're not gonna sound so cocky once I’m balls-deep in your tight fucking ass.” Satoru shot back, nipping his neck hard enough that it was surely going to leave a very noticeable bruise, one he knew Suguru would wear with immense pride and satisfaction.

Suguru’s chuckle was deep and sensual as he reached between them to begin unbuckling his boyfriend's belt and pants, desperate to get his large hands wrapped around Satoru’s fat cock.

“Wanna bet on-”

The door to the storeroom suddenly creaked open and both men instantly froze as dim light from the previously empty gym briefly flooded the space before closing and going dark again.

“Shit!” Satoru whispered harshly into his ear, just loud enough so only he would hear it. “Did a professor or someone else follow us?”

It's not like the two of them had ever tried to hide their relationship from the public, such a thing would have been an impossible endeavor anyway, what with how affectionate and touchy Satoru could be most of the time. But even with their relationship being public knowledge, it still hadn't stopped the occasional creeper or fame-chaser from trying to catch them in compromising situations, usually to try and extort the white haired young man for a cut of his rather impressively large fortune and inheritance.

With the unexpected death of his parents only four years prior, and Satoru being their only child, he had been the sole beneficiary to the Gojo family's vast wealth and assets, and while he still had to graduate college first before he could receive the entirety of his inheritance in full, the monthly stipend he received every month to fund their lifestyle until then was certainly nothing to sneeze at.

But it also had the unfortunate drawback of painting a big red bullseye on his back, and subsequently Suguru’s as well, one that led some people to think that they would be an easy target for some quick cash if a compromising photo could be taken and dangled over their heads.

“Just stay quiet for now.” Suguru replied, then tenderly kissed Satoru's cheek with the kind of affection he knew would leave the Gojo heir blushing. “If they try anything, I'll be the one to handle it.”

And he meant it to, he had already beat the shit out of a few creeps for trying this kind of shit, and would be more than willing to do so again if it came down to it.

Satoru was his, and he would always have his back, just like he knew Satoru would always have his.

The two of them, thankfully, were tucked away in a corner of the storeroom behind some stacked boxes of equipment, so they would see anyone that came around the corner, but when no one came, the two of them slowly rose to their feet to take a peek around, wondering if maybe the individual actually hadn't stuck around and left when the door shut.

But there, leaning against the wall next to the door was a young girl, one who both men briefly recognized as a first year, more specifically, she was a foreign exchange student who they just so happened to share one or two classes with this semester.

You had your phone drawn up to your ear and seemed to be calling the same number repeatedly as your expression grew more and more frantic every time the person(s) on the other end failed to pick up.

“The fuck?” Satoru silently mouthed as they looked at one another, confusion written all over each other's faces, but Suguru was just as lost as his partner and only shook his head at him.

He now suspected that you had no idea you weren't alone in here, which meant that you weren't a threat, so his posture had relaxed once more, but now he was also fairly curious as to what had brought you here, and who you were so desperately trying to get ahold of.

And based on the noticeable gleam in Satoru's bright blue eyes, Suguru knew he was also just as curious.

And then, as if their nosiness had triggered something on the other end of your phone, they suddenly heard your voice speak, your tone sounding both relieved and panicked as words, in what they were able to tell was English, began tumbling out of your mouth in fast succession.

The only problem however, was that neither of them knew enough of the language to be able to piece full sentences together.

“Oh come on!” Satoru quietly groaned in exasperation.

He knew enough to be able to pick out a few words here and there; words like ‘no’ and ‘please’ and ‘wait’, which you seemed to be repeating quite often as your voice grew more and more panicked, but eventually, whoever was on the other end must have abruptly ended the call, because you stopped talking as the phone slowly slid from your slackened grip and fell to the floor with a loud enough crash that he knew without even seeing it that the damn things screen was likely shattered to bits from the impact with the concrete flooring.

You looked so sad and heartbroken in that moment, and before either man knew what was happening, you dropped to your knees with a sickening thud that left both of them wincing. Your knees were most definitely going to be in a world of hurt once you finally managed to pull yourself out of whatever dark hole that conversation had thrown you into.

And then came the wailing…

The sounds that came pouring out of you were absolutely gut wrenching, and despite not knowing anything about you, not even your name, it took everything Satoru and Suguru had to stop themselves from going to you and demanding what it was that had caused this.

You had your arms wrapped so tightly around yourself, like you would fall to pieces if you weren't holding yourself together in that lonely embrace, and you were sobbing so hard that they both feared you might actually make yourself sick if you didn't get your breathing under control.

“What do you think we should do?” Suguru whispered.

Satoru didn't once take his eyes off you as he shook his head in uncertainty.

“I honestly don't know.” He answered. “We would probably just make things worse if we suddenly pop out and she learns we've been here this whole time.”

Suguru had to agree, and as much as it killed him to stand back and let your trauma unfold like this, he knew that Satoru was right.

Neither of them completely understood why they had this unexplainable urge to go to you, someone who was a complete and total stranger, but it was a matter they were going to have to ponder together and discuss at great length before making any solid decisions on.

But for now, they simply had to let the situation run its natural course and hope for the best, even if waiting and patience was never either of their strong suits.

And so they did.

They waited for almost thirty minutes, watching and listening to the sound of your very soul shattering as you cried yourself into exhaustion before you eventually managed to pick yourself back up off the floor and slowly and silently exit the storage space. Neither of them failed to notice the dead expression on your face or how utterly lifeless your eyes appeared to be, and both men knew it had little to do with the poor lighting from the few small windows sprinkled along the walls near the ceiling.

And only once they were certain they were alone again did both Satoru and Suguru finally release the breath neither of them realized they were simultaneously holding.

“Fucking hell…” Satoru groaned and slumped down to the floor to sit on his haunches. “What was that all about?” He asked, looking up at Suguru through feather soft lashes.

Suguru leaned back against the wall across from him and let out his own sigh of frustration.

He didn't understand what this feeling was or where it was coming from, but it was taking all his restraint not to go chasing after you, to make certain you didn't do anything foolish.

Perhaps it had something to do with seeing you in such a vulnerable state when you thought you were completely alone…

He had seen plenty of his friends in bad moods or had been a shoulder for them to cry on when they were stressed and upset, but he had never seen anyone in real life break apart so uncontrollably the way you had just now; not even Satoru after the death of his parents, if one could even call those two absent shit-stains by the title of parent.

“I don't know.” He whispered. “Maybe she has a significant other back home and they got into a fight or something?”

He saw the darkened look that flashed across Satoru's face and knew immediately that the thought of that prospect didn't settle with him any better than it did with Suguru himself.

“Or someone she knows could have gotten hurt, or even died.” Satoru casually stated, and wondered what it must have said about him that he hoped it was that and not Suguru's option.

This was not what either of them had expected to deal with today, not that anyone could have predicted it, but now that they had witnessed what you obviously must have thought was a moment of extreme vulnerability, their interest was thoroughly piqued and he knew that neither he nor Suguru would be able to walk away and just forget about it so easily.

At the very least, he wanted to know the details of the situation, even if they couldn't do anything about it to help you in the end, because if he didn't, then those mournful cries of yours would follow him for a long time, possibly forever, and he wasn't entirely sure he could stay sane if the burning question of it wasn't answered.

“Come on, let's go home for the rest of the day and figure out what we want to do.” Suguru said, and held his hand out to help his boyfriend rise to his feet. “There's no point in attending any more of our classes today if neither of us will be able to properly concentrate.”

It wasn't until they were almost to the door that something caught Satoru's attention and he had to pause for a moment to thank the heavens for his good fortune, because there was your shattered phone, still laying on the ground where it had originally dropped.

“It must be our lucky day, babe.” He said with a grin, bending down to pick up the device.

“I'm not too surprised, the poor thing was practically catatonic when she left, and a broken phone was probably the last thing on her mind.” Suguru wrapped his arms around Satoru's middle and rested his chin in the crook of his neck to look over his shoulder and watch him gingerly tap at the screen. “Maybe we could use returning it as an excuse to talk to her?” He suggested, but dismissed the idea just as quickly when he realized that would mean needing to explain how they found it and how they knew it was yours.

Satoru nodded his head absentmindedly, already knowing that he and Suguru had likely reached the same conclusion on that option, but he had one that might prove to be a bit more useful to them in the long run, especially as the lock screen lit up and showed both men that it was only the protective cover over the screen that was shattered. The sturdy case and screen protector had spared it from any true damage, and as he stared at the picture you had set of you and what appeared to be your parents at your high school graduation ceremony, he couldn't help but feel that fate was too good a word to describe this opportunity, and it had to mean something so much more.

“Let's stop by a cell-phone store on the way home.” He suggested, before pocketing the device and turning to give his boyfriend a conspiratorial wink and smile. “I have an idea of my own that I think you'll like a whole lot more.”

----------

Later on that night, Satoru and Suguru found themselves snuggled up together on the couch that faced the large wall of windows in their penthouse apartment that overlooked the Tokyo city skyline.

When the two of them had first graduated high school together nearly four years earlier and started apartment hunting together, they had immediately been sold on this particular property, located in Minato, based solely on the views it provided of the city at night, and naturally, with Satoru being who he was, they ended up with the absolute best the building had to offer, right at the very top on the 45th floor.

It had already come fully furnished at the time they had first moved in, but over the course of their almost four year residency, they had slowly replaced everything with pieces that were more suited to their own tastes and preferences.

That was one thing that he loved so much about Satoru, despite the apartment being in his name and the money from his monthly stipends paying for everything they had, his boyfriend never made him feel less than for not being able to contribute more than his ability to cook and help clean. Satoru always told him that the money was just as much his, and had even gone so far as to get Suguru's name put on the account and debit/credit cards of his very own so he never had to ask for money.

Satoru, for all his childish tendencies and spoiled entitlement, saw the two of them as equal partners in their relationship, and did everything he possibly could to show him that at every opportunity.

But the greatest gift of all, besides just being in his life, had been in the form of his college expenses.

Satoru had always been destined to attend his parents alma mater, the University of Tokyo, but for Suguru, with his poorer background and lack of financial resources, despite his excellent grades and a long list of extracurriculars that had earned him a full scholarship to the elite high school they had both attended, the prestigious university had always felt more like a far off and unattainable dream as he'd sent in his application for it, and half a dozen other more affordable and realistic schools.

Schools that were far enough away that it would have seen him and Satoru separated and likely to break up.

So when, mere days after his parents' funeral, Satoru had expressed a keen desire to pay for his tuition entirely from his own pocket, just to help him achieve his dreams and keep them from being separated, Suguru had known then and there that the white haired young man was the one for him.

It wasn't about the money though, Suguru had never given a single thought to asking his, admittedly very wealthy boyfriend, for financial assistance. It was Satoru's genuine desire to help him and not lose each other that had cemented it in his mind that they were it for one another; that, come hell or high water, he would fight tooth and nail to keep what they had, and Satoru had been more that eager to share the sentiment.

And now, here they were, making what might be one of the biggest decisions of their life together as they scrolled through your now deactivated phone, and seething with rage at what they were learning.

“You're reading the same thing as me, right? I’m not misinterpreting this?” Satoru asked through clenched teeth.

Suguru's mood wasn't much better as he took the phone from his boyfriend's tightening grip to read the translated email more closely.

“No, you're not.”

After leaving campus for the day, the first thing they had done was drive to a small electronics store on the outskirts of the city to have your phone deactivated. And thankfully, with the help of a very hefty bribe, the creep working the shady storefront had been more than happy to ignore the questionable ethics of forcefully disconnecting and resetting the password on a phone that clearly didn't belong to either of the men asking for it to be done, and in less than thirty minutes, the two had been on their merry way back home.

It had been Suguru's idea to run everything on your phone through a translator app so they could try and figure out what was going on with you, and while they both felt a mild sense of guilt over snooping so deeply into your private life, they told themselves it was for your own good, that they were only trying to help.

The translations were by no means perfect, but both men were smart enough to read between the lines and mentally fix whatever errors there were in the process, and while your text messages had been a bust, with most of them being fairly quick and concise, your emails proved to be much more fruitful.

And rage inducing…

Satoru had been right in assuming that whatever had brought on your traumatic breakdown had to do with your family, but if what they were reading had any kind of truth to it, which neither of them were truly doubting, then it was so much worse than just someone you knew and loved dying on you.

The email in question was from your mother and read as followed;

(Y/N), I know this will come as a tremendous shock to you whenever you read this, and I need you to understand that me and your father are not making this decision to be cruel to you, but you are no longer a child, you are a grown woman on her own at college, in another country no less, and I feel like I should be allowed to be honest with you about the changes both our lives are about to take.

I think you are well aware by now that having you was not a choice neither I nor your father made willingly, you were a genuine accident, and while we care about you and want you to succeed more than anything, you are grown now and fully capable of no longer needing us. Me and your father put our dreams and desires on hold and raised you for nineteen years, and now it is time for us to be allowed to live our lives how we see fit. We have already sold the house and all but its most important items, all of your belongings have been packed up and moved to a storage unit that I have provided the number for down below. It has been paid off for the next six months while you decide how and what to do with it, but this is the final assistance we will give you, as we need all the money we can spare to begin our new lives elsewhere.

I know this is going to be very hard for you to understand, but your father and I were free spirits before we had you, travel and adventure was our life, and while we did our due diligence upon having you, I won't lie and say that you were our greatest joy. Having to be tied down to one place for so long in order to give you the stability you required, it killed us a little inside with each year that passed, and now that we are finally free, we feel it is best we no longer keep in contact with you going forward. It will only serve to remind us of a time we no longer want to think about, and it will only give you false hope in the end that things could go back to your perceived version of normal, and that is not fair to any of us.

We will be replacing our phones and numbers at the end of the week, so feel free to call us anytime between now and then if you have anything to say or add.

And please, take care of yourself and live your life to the fullest.

That was where the email ended.

It had been sent less than 24 hours ago, and a quick check of your call log showed them that your parents were indeed the last people you had tried calling, your mother having been the one to finally pick up and respond to your, now understandably, very frantic calls earlier in the storage room.

“What kind of sorry excuse for a mother would do this to their own child?” Satoru asked, his voice as cold and icy as his eyes and hair. “My parents were shit at being parents, and even they would have never done something as cruel and heartless as this.”

Suguru nodded in complete agreement as he reread the words on the screen again for a third time, and had to fight down every urge he had to punch this awful woman's number into his own phone and give her a piece of his mind.

“The only kind of people who could do this with as little remorse as she seems to have, are the kind that should have never been allowed to conceive in the first place.” The dark haired man responded, and draped an arm over his loves shoulders for comfort.

The two sat in silence for a long while after that, slowly processing everything they had learned, and in that time, Satoru had opened up your photo gallery for them to look through, idly scrolling through picture after picture, wanting to understand you further and gain insight into who you were. They started from the oldest ones at the very top, which seemed to date back three years, and while you seemed more interested in taking pictures of other people and the things and places around you, when a photo of yourself did eventually pop up every now and then, it always blindsided then how joyful and happy you seemed, especially in contrast with how they had seen you earlier, so sad and broken.

“So, what do we do now, Suguru?”

Suguru sighed, having known they would eventually have to discuss this.

“I know we were mostly just curious to find out what was the cause of her breakdown earlier, but now that we know the whole story, I don't think I can just leave this situation alone.” He said, and felt Satoru relax beside him, that was enough to tell him that his partner felt the same as him.

“Normally, I'd say that destiny and fate can suck my fat cock, but I don't feel like it was just mere coincidence that led to us being in that storage room with her today, it was definitely something more.” Satoru said, his confidence returning in full force as he stared down at a picture of your bright and smiling face, wishing more than anything that they could see it in person. “So who better to help a poor damsel in distress than the two best equipped guys in the city; we have the money, the means, and the time to show her were on her side.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself.” Suguru chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Now the only question is how do we proceed and make it happen?”

Satoru flashed him that signature too confident grin as he leaned back into his arms and pulled out his own phone.

“Don't worry, I got us covered on that front.” He said, scrolling through his minimal contacts to find the one he needed. “She might not figure it out right away, but our girl isn't going to know what to do with herself once she realizes she's got two knights in shining armor looking out for her.”

I've recently gotten really into JJK and since I'm not really feeling the motivation to write for any of my other fics at the moment, here is the newest idea that is rotting my brain from the inside out.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup  for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories! I’m sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for all of their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read this to go over to their page or their AO3 account under the same name and check out their works, especially Chaos and Erase The Shadow. They are two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME! And who has also started their own Yandere!Overhaul fic called Crossroads and is set in a 1920′s prohibition style era, it’s amazing and you need to check it out!

#18+ONLY #MINORS DNI #Like Hoarded Gold #yandere!suguru/satoru #fem!reader #yandere!suguru/satoru x fem!reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #original female character #no curses au #college setting #light stalking #light smut #typical yandere behavior #yandere jjk

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ii. do you really wanna know where i was april 29th?

— the one where you and him end up in the same room at the same time.

warnings: kind reminder that the pictures are just used for entertainment and don’t describe what the main character is supposed to look like also, there are some f1 inaccuracies but this is fiction so please ignore them thank you❤️ 2k words.

masterlist ✢ next

Liked by scuderiaferrari, vicpresley, tchalamet and others.

View comments

softyn it’s so good to see you having fun!!

myaid4nfeels so you’re already on the hunt huh

poppyseeds mother!! suddenly I love fast cars vroom vroom

greenleafss @/priscibby you were right she def has another man

frenziekenzie okay cool but I need you to talk about Aidan I’m a child of divorce.

Baku, Azerbaijan, April 29th.

HERE, here is where you end up when you let your agent say yes to every commercial offer you get no matter how random it is. And one day late, to top things off. Many people are angry at you, and you’re getting an earful as soon as the cameras shut down, but for now all you can do is laugh at terrible jokes, like the lady that you are, pretend to sip the frankly horrendous energy drink your manager keeps handing you, and appear very sorry about your previous absence.

You’re not even supposed to be here, you had no idea signing the stupid contract with Red Elix forced you to come to every sponsor event that they had. Having become the most recent sponsor for Ferrari’s F1 team, the men in charge couldn’t wait to show you off, their most important ambassador. Or their shiniest toy, it's all semantics.

"Come on, the shootout is about to start!" the old man whose name you have already forgotten holds your hand, leading you away from the refreshments table where you're looking something drinkable, preferably with alcohol, although it wouldn't help your jetlag.

You spent the eighteen hours of your flight on a F1 binge, because you weren't about to make a fool of yourself by showing up to a Grand Prix having zero idea of whatever was going on other than the cars going really, really fast. Some things are still mildly confusing, like the point distribution and why on Earth there is a sprint race and then a 'real' race the next day. But you're proud of your ability to retain information, you're an actress after all, there are a hundred scripts loaded into your brain.

"We root for the red cars, sweetheart," the man is still holding your hand and it's starting to feel gross, it's papery and sweaty at the same time. It's like he's talking to a child, ennunciating slowly and clearly, and then pointing at the screen where they take turns to focus on drivers sixteen and fifty-five.

Unsurprisingly, you'd figured as much, you're in the Ferrari Suite, everything is fucking red. A wave of annoyance runs through you, but you're used to men being patronizing, so you just smile and take the chance to slip your hand out of his grip, covering your face coyly. "I'll keep an eye on them!"

He turns around after laughing at your 'cuteness' or stupidity, really. Men love laughing at women, especially those whom they deem to be dumb.

"Could you please, please, get me some water? Not Elix, not anything else, water." you whisper to your manager just as he's made himself comfortable to watch the Sprint Shootout. He sends a resented look your way but still gets up from his chair to get you a closed bottle of water. Walter is being forced to be here as much as you are, at least he doesn’t have a contract that keeps him tied to Elix for every race.

The man from before is talking to you again and you try your best not to shut down and tune him out. He's explaining the rules of the Shootout but you couldn't care less about anything that leaves his mouth, also the cars are already coming out of their respective garage and there's so much noise it doesn't even matter how much he adjusts the volume of his voice.

Charles and Carlos, you have learned their names after an hour of having their enlarged picture stare at you from the main wall of the Suite. Charles ended up in first place and he's starting P1 later and tomorrow. Nice. Carlos is struggling a little, apparently, but seeing how fast these silly cars go and how tight the curves are, you can't blame him.

As soon as the Shootout is over, there is chaos again. You are dragged here, there and back, forced to smile for pictures with strangers who have the audacity to squeeze your waist and whisper in your ear, well, that's definitely worse than having to drink the Red Elix.

There is another rush as both drivers come back for a debrief and to get some rest before the Sprint, they're a blur surrounded by people in red uniforms blabbering instructions, and the shouts of 'good job!' and 'i love you!' that have followed them from the paddock.

"Mr. Schafer…” a boney boy with glasses leans down to talk to the guy that has branded you as his for the evening.

Schafer gives him a dirty look, annoyed by the interruption of his incredibly boring story about how he is a self-made multimillionaire. "What?" he barks.

"They- they said not now," the boy whispers shyly, no, not shyly, scared. "They said the drivers need to focus, but maybe later after the Sprint..."

A can of Elix flies in the air and you look in poorly disguised repugnance at the way it puddles close to your Air Force sneakers. The boy has taken a step back, now visibly shaking and your disgust is redirected to the man that just yelled at him and is throwing a temper tantrum.

"Not right now?!" he continues, face turning purple. "What if I had said 'not right now' when they asked me to give them MY money, huh?!"

"T-they said—"

"I don't care what they said! It's your job to get the pictures of them with the Elix! You're useless!"

Other people are staring at you, including most of the Ferrari Hospitality Team, and it makes you feel embarassed that they have most likely pegged you as similar to Schafer from how inseparable you are.

"Why don't we calm down a bit?" you soothe, forcing yourself to run your hand down his arm and back up. "You know how these pilots are, divas at best."

You don't know either of the guys who have disappeared inside the Suite, and by the looks the Hospitality Team gives you once again, you're certain you are completely mistaken. But you don't care, because the media boy is giving you a grateful look, and although he's still visibly fuming, the money guy has stopped yelling.

"You're right sweetheart," Schafer says patting your hand and taking it back to his arm. "Later, then." he warns the media boy, who takes that as his sign to run away.

────────────

Ferrari is full of hope and celebrations when the Sprint ends, you're once again paraded around but at least it's way more fun this time. You get to be near the podium and witness first-hand whatever rituals they play out. The fun is short-lived though, when you are warned by your manager that Mr. Schafer wants to take you out to dinner tonight, you don't have or want to know more, you know what he wants to achieve.

You walk back to the Suite with your manager, trying your best to avoid Mr. Schafer, who is frantically looking for you. He's missing his arm-candy badly.

Your jetlag has worsened, and you have a terrible headache, plus however much Elix you've drank despite taking the smallest sips possible, is making you nauseous.

You need five minutes to yourself. It's all you ask for. You haven't even been able to get a break in the fucking bathroom. Your manager is constantly yelling, already getting his own frustration out on you for whatever shit the Elix team gave him after you missed the first day of the Grand Prix.

In the midst of the chaos, you slip away. Eager to find a place to breathe and enjoy your own company. Or dissociate, again, semantics.

You find yourself in front of two doors with the numbers sixteen and fifty-five identifying whom they each belong to. They are empty, and you know it because both drivers are still in their debriefing/celebration/whatever else they could be doing that once again, won't allow them to pose for the Elix post-race photos.

You are at a crossroads, you are well aware this are private rooms for a reason, but you also know there isn't anywhere more deserted than these rooms.

Sixteen or fifty-five? Who is least likely to freak out if by any miscalculation on your part they found you here? Well, one of them ended the day on a happier note than the other, so...

You open the door marked with the number sixteen and sigh in relief. Five minutes and that's it. Then you can go back and play dumb to Schafer and beg for you manager to finally take you to the hotel.

There is a miscalculation on your part, and five minutes later, just as you're about to get up and leave (after stealing one bottle of water and a granola bar from Charles' stash) the door opens again, revealing the disheveled driver, holding a small plaque with a number two in one hand and a Pirelli cap in the other. He is far more handsome up close, there isn't a screen or photograph that does him justice, and you've seen plenty of both during the day.

"You are not supposed to be here," is the first thing he says, frowning.

"I know," you feign nonchalance as best you can, although you are embarrassed. "I was leaving."

Charles still wears that confused expression on his face, and it makes you glad it hasn't changed to anger. "What were you doing here?"

"Stealing your refreshments," which is not a lie, as you're still holding both things in one hand, not without struggle.

He's not freaking out, which comes across as strange. How many times has he come to his private room to find a random girl waiting for him?

"Should have taken the Elix," he mutters, throwing the Pirelli cap in the empty part of the couch you had been occupying minutes before. "That thing is disgusting."

You can't help but chortle a laugh. "Glad you think so,"

Awkward silence finally falls in the room, and you know that's the signal for you to exit. You're still invading his privacy and while you're glad he really didn't seem to mind, you don't know how much longer he will be so patient.

"Don't tell anyone you were here, okay?" he calls after you, "Someone might get fired."

You nod but he doesn't see you, already minding his own business in his little private bubble. You're jealous to leave him in a space all to himself.

────────────

It takes an hour to get both drivers and you in the same room for the pictures Elix is dying to get. This is far from ridiculous, but you have a contract and so does Ferrari, so you don't have much of a choice.

"Are you feeling better?" Charles asks, and you think he's talking to his team mate until he clears his throat right in front of you. He's holding the Red Elix, just like the one in his private room.

"Who? Me?" you ask stupidly, and then you take a sip of the Gold Elix in your hand, it's so much worse than the Red.

"Yes, you."

"I'm okay, why?" you're suddenly defensive, this is the second time this guy sees you and he's acting all weird.

"Good," he says and also drinks from his Elix, failing to hide his distaste with a purse from his lips. "This thing is really gross," he whispers, and this time his teammate does join the conversation only by laughing.

Both must be exhausted and yet they're trying to put on a good show for the sponsors.

"I'm sorry about intruding in your room," you lower your voice, squeezing your drink.

Charles shrugs lightly, and drinks again, this time without grimacing. "Sometimes I need five minutes too."

You smile, and it's the first sincere smile you've shown all day.

"My mum likes your movies," he says casually, as someone yells that you need 'just one more picture, please!'

You dread the part where he says something along the lines of "Supercut is the best!" but instead, after he stops the automatic motion of taking the red can to his lips, he adds: "I like Loneliness, it's so depressing."

And you throw your head back to laugh.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! i would appreciate to know your thoughts too! ♡❞

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #charles x reader

[thornsnvultures]

this would be with eddie and i'll die on that hill

I was thinking the same thing!! like irl me isn't allowed to go in haunted houses for Reasons but this is fiction so...

(help idk what happened here I didn't mean for this to turn into smut 👀💦 cw: thigh riding, eddie being a perv) 18+

---

"C'mon it'll be fun!"

You looked from Eddie's excited face to the entrance of the old barn that had been converted into a dark, looming haunted house for the season. Black curtains concealing the entryway fluttered in the cool autumn breeze, curling like hands beckoning you closer. But the muffled screams coming from inside kept your feet glued to the ground.

"Eddie, I don't know..." Your hands curled tighter around his arm, digging your nails into his leather jacket.

"I was a scarer here last season and it's the same every year. Trust me, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad" meant different things to you and Eddie. Sure it was just a bunch of teenagers in masks and makeup, but the fear was real. At the very least you knew Eddie wouldn't run off and leave you, (that had happened to you once before, it wasn't fun).

"How 'bout this?" Eddie held you in front of him, suddenly serious. "Every time we make it to the end of a section, I'll give you a kiss."

"Eddie," you roll your eyes, "if you wanna make out we can just go back to the van."

"Don't tempt me," his playful growl teased a smile from your lips. "C'mon, pretty girl. I think I make a pretty good distraction." Eddie waved his hands over his front and wiggled his eyebrows. You could help but laugh, hitting his chest and begging him to stop when he started to gyrate his hips at you. He captured you in his arms, his whole body shaking as he laughed with you.

"Okay," you took a deep breath, Eddie's leather and weed scent settling your nerves the tiniest bit. "I'm ready."

"That's my girl." Eddie smiled and pressed a kiss into your hair before leading you in.

Whatever braveness you felt before walking into the mock-house immediately disappeared when you realized how dark it was inside. You clung tighter to Eddie's arm.

"It's okay. They make the first hallway super dark to fuck with you."

Eddie didn't whisper which somehow made you feel safer. He tromped down the hallway and through the first creepy area in his shit kickers like his raucous feet would keep the monsters away.

The first area was unsettling, but not bad like Eddie said. It was even kind of cute with the fake bats hanging from the ceiling. Once you made it to the end, Eddie took your face in his hands and planted one on you. It was a wet sloppy kiss, purposely so to make you laugh and push him off you.

"Eddie!"

"There's one," he grinned. "Man, this was a great idea."

The rooms got scarier as you went of course, and you screamed more than a few times when someone jumped out from behind a corner or banged an old shovel on the floor. Your heart was hammering harder in your chest with every room.

"How big is this fucking barn?"

"Who cares?"

Eddie had you pressed up against a wall somewhere between the fifth and sixth area. His mouth was too busy kissing down your neck, hidden in the shadows, to care about whoever was going through the house behind you.

His rewards for being brave had gotten a little too "rewarding" and after the last one Eddie couldn't seem to stop. Not that you minded. You'd much rather feel Eddie's lips on your skin than go through the rest of the house.

"Fuck, Eddie, what if someone sees?" The sharp suction of his mouth on your neck was your answer. Who cares? His lips and teeth and tongue whispered, "Let them see. Let them see you're mine. My brave girl."

"Eddie," you whine and grind against where he's straining for you in his tight jeans.

"That's it, pretty girl, doing such a good job."

You didn't know if Eddie was talking about your progress through the haunted house or how you were grinding against the thigh he slotted between your legs but you didn't care.

Eddie squeezed your hips, guiding you towards your release. The rings on his fingers were cool against your heated skin as you worked faster. Eddie could tell you were close by the way your hips stuttered, how you held your breath and shook against his chest.

"That's it, that's it, baby. Show me, give it to me."

Just as you reached your peak, Eddie slammed his mouth on yours, stealing the scream from between your lips and swallowing it down. Your thighs shook around his as you came down, the fake house around you totally forgotten.

"Fuck me, that was hot."

You couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but smile at Eddie as he smiled down at you. You weren't sure if you could walk, but Eddie pulled you through the last two rooms anyway. You stumbled out of the house like you were drunk, barely able to stand and giggling like a lunatic.

Outside one of the workers running the haunted house was speaking with two security guards when they suddenly turned and shouted, pointing at you and Eddie.

"Shit! Run!"

Eddie grabbed your hand and made a dash for the parking lot and his van, hauling your ass behind him as you cackled like a goddamn witch.

Yeah, haunted houses with Eddie might be your new favorite part of Halloween.

#💌 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #my fics #this prose is as purple as the hickies on her neck lmao

[corinthianism]

everything has changed | dean winchester (1)

pairing: dean winchester/f!reader additional tags: reverse isekai, fluff, crack, meet cute, slight angst

summary: once again, dean lands in the reality where he’s just a fictional character played by jensen ackles. it’s annoying the hell out of him and he just wants to go back home, until he doesn’t.

masterlist | next chapter | ao3

CHAPTER ONE: A SIMPLE NAME

Today was supposed to be a normal day. It was your day off and you were on your way to check out a new shop that had opened downtown. They sold a bunch of fandom merchandise, which wasn’t special or anything, but you were hoping they had a nice keychain that you could clip onto your bag. The paint on your old green lightsaber keychain had flaked off, leaving behind an ugly gray rod of steel instead of Luke Skywalker’s iconic weapon. 

The shop wasn’t far; in fact, you could’ve walked it, so you did. It was nice out today, and it was one of the rare opportunities you had to actually get out and get some sun, what with work eating up all of your hours. You’d barely made it a few blocks when you noticed a man lying face-down on the ground, his cheek smushed directly against the hot concrete. 

You panicked, not sure if you should rush in and help or run away. Very far away. While you were busy in your own head, the guy in question rolled to his side, revealing a very familiar face. 

No fucking way.

“Jensen Ackles?”

Jensen groaned, pushing himself up from the ground, “What’d you say, lady?”

You swallowed and repeated what you said, “You’re Jensen Ackles, right? The actor?” 

The man in front of you was no doubt Jensen Ackles, from the green eyes to the freckles that were dusted all over his nose and cheeks. It’d been years since the media last heard about him; him and Jared Padalecki basically shut down Supernatural when they quit out of the blue, after Misha Collins was murdered. Their representatives all said the same thing: that they were just having a hard time mourning their friend and that they needed to take some time away from the limelight.

But neither of them came back or at least, no one had heard from them since. Until now, that is. And for some reason, Jensen was all dressed up as Dean.

“No, I’m… Goddamn,” he winced as he tried to stand up, clutching his side with one hand. When you approached him to help him get up, you saw the crimson liquid that oozed from underneath his clothes and all over his hand. “I’m… I’m fine, lady, don’t worry about it.”

“Jesus Christ!” you staggered back at the sight of blood, the starstruck feeling suddenly replaced by shock. “You are not fine, dude, you need to go to a hospital!”

“No, I don’t,” his voice was gruff, more so than when you heard him in person the last time there was a Supernatural convention. That was years ago, back when you were still in braces and listening to Panic! at the Disco. Now, he sported a somewhat-noticeable Midwestern accent and asked you question after question that you weren’t really processing, all while keeping a mostly straight face despite his heavily bleeding wound. He spoke again, “What year is it?”

The question was odd enough to finally snap you out of staring at the bloodied patch on his jacket and out of your inevitable freak-out, “What?”

“I said,” he planted his feet firmly on the ground. “What year is it?”

“It’s… 2024?” you raised a brow, but your primary concern was getting him somewhere safe so he could be patched up. “Sir, I think you need to get some help.”

He fully ignored you, opting to instead frantically look around and march away to God-knows-where. You weren’t sure what to do except follow him, worried that the wound on his side was much worse than it looked. Judging from how much blood there was, it had to be deep. Probably a stab wound.

You really didn’t wanna think about it.

Following Jensen led you to a newspaper and tabloid stand, with him haphazardly flicking through today’s newspaper to find whatever it was he needed to find. You debated on whether or not you were gonna call 911 because of the wound, but he seemed entirely unaffected, or if he was, he did a good job of not showing it. 

You both just stood there for a few minutes, and you couldn’t help but notice how he became more aggravated the more he read through the papers. 

“Um, sir?” you cleared your throat, trying desperately to calm the panic rising in your chest.

He didn’t listen.

“Mr. Ackles… can—” you took a deep breath, “—can you please calm down and tell me what’s going on? Sir?”

He only frowned even more, clenching his jaw as he tried to absorb the words on the pages, instead of listening to you. Christ, this man was stubborn. Not at all what you thought he’d be. Then again, celebrities weren’t your friends.

You were getting frustrated, too. Then, an idea struck. You weren’t sure if it was going to work, it was stupid as hell, but you had to try.

“Dean?” you said the name softly.

He finally looked at you, though in all honesty, it was more like a side-eye. But it was something, so you kept going.

“Dean,” the name felt weird on your tongue as you repeated it. You were calling an actor by his character’s name. Who does that? “Can you please tell me what’s going on? I only want to help.”

“Sweetheart,” he gave you this big charming smile which you could only assume was a bit mocking.

“Dean…” you returned the favor, saying his name as sweetly as you could but the pettiness in your tone vanished as soon as you saw him wince again in pain. It would’ve been easier to let him go and to just go home, but you couldn’t leave him alone like this. He didn’t seem to have a car or even a working phone. “You’re clearly hurt. Please, just let me help.”

He let out a sigh of defeat, accepting that yes, maybe he needed some help, “If you want to help… where’s the nearest burger joint? And do you have a first aid kit?”

So there you were, sharing a burger with Jensen Ackles, except he only answered to the name Dean. You led him to a small diner, which was becoming increasingly rare in the area. The sign outside spelled out SMITH’S BREAKFAST DINER in a retro font, though the lights didn’t work anymore. The place had been operating since the late 80s, and never really got around to keeping up with the trends. Regardless, you kept coming back. They had good food, good music, and Suzanne always called you “darlin’” in a sweet Southern accent every time you came in for a quick bite.

You chewed your burger slowly, your mind wandering to the crazy possibility that you were actually sitting in front of Dean Winchester, not Jensen Ackles. If that was the case, you hoped the diner would bring him some comfort. From what you saw in the show, him and Sam always frequented places like these. The thought that he might actually be the character and not the actor was still so insane, to the point where you couldn’t even really enjoy your food like you normally would.

He was also munching on his burger, shamelessly groaning in delight. His eyes were even closed… which was definitely a good thing because you’d been staring at him the whole time. It took him less than two minutes to chow the whole thing down.

You knew some people who’d met Jensen at conventions, back when those were still a thing. They always said he was nice and considerate, and all that. Or that he smelled nice. Sitting here in front of him, there was only one thing that was stuck in your head.

This man, whoever he was, Jensen or Dean… he was incredibly attractive. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, he looked like he needed help and honestly? You didn’t really know why you wanted to help. Perhaps you just had nothing better to do. Maybe it was something deeper than that. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have “saved a celebrity” on your resumé.

“Dean” took a big gulp of the Coca-Cola in front of him, letting out a refreshed sigh. Then, without warning, he pulled out whatever was lodged in his side. The suddenness of his movement, combined with his pained groan, startled you. A few of the other patrons of the diner cast confused looks your way, which you tried to play off with a nervous smile. 

A sharp clunk caught your attention and when you looked back at the table, there was a bloody shard of glass right next to your iced tea. 

“What the fuck?!” you whisper-yelled, quickly covering up the glass with some napkins before someone else could see it. You turned your attention back to “Dean”, who was taking a few breaths to calm himself down as he began discretely disinfecting his wound. You wanted to be mad, you really wanted to, but your fourteen year old self would scream at you if you did not help this man. And the way he flinched every now and then as the hydrogen peroxide pricked at his wound certainly earned him some pity points.

“So… uh, do I really call you Dean?” you started lamely instead of reprimanding him for his callousness, still trying to wrap your head around the possibility that this might really be Dean Winchester. “Like the guy from Supernatural?”

He groaned at the mention of Supernatural, briefly stopping his movements to cast an unimpressed look at you, “Yes, you call me Dean, ‘cause it’s my name, lady.”

You steeled yourself as he went back to treating his wound, “Yeah, well, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”

Dean stopped again, his brows relaxing into a more neutral yet somber expression, as if you’d just hit him with a sobering truth, “...Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” 

The two of you simmered in an awkward silence for a few moments. 

“I just want to help,” you spoke first, trying your best to convey your sincerity to him, “but if you are who I think you are then I understand why you might be hesitant to clue me in on what’s going on.”

“And who do you think I am, exactly?” he spared you an intrigued glance, unflinching as the needle pierced his skin. 

You popped a fry in your month, chewing slowly as you eyed him up and down, “Well, I doubt Jensen Ackles would get himself injured like that and walk around in broad daylight where the paparazzi could see him and say all sorts of things. Dean Winchester, on the other hand…”

He shifted in his seat to fully face you, a smirk playing across his lips.

“So what? You’re just gonna believe that I'm Dean Winchester?” he raised a brow, squinting his eyes at you accusingly as if to test you. You had to give it to him, it made you waver in your belief, but you stayed firm.

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” you offered with a small smile, feeling that the quote described your thought process pretty well. It made you feel smart in the moment, even if you knew full well that it was your teenage self’s delusions resurfacing. 

He nodded in understanding and laughed, “Ha! Nice Velma quote.”

You were the one to raise a brow this time, “It’s a Sherlock quote.”

“Oh,” his smile faltered. He cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment, “...Yeah. Yeah, I knew that. Totally.”

You held in your laughter, biting your lip as you watched the faintest blush spread across his freckled cheeks. The moment sizzled out after a while, leaving you two in a semi-comfortable silence. You noticed how guarded he was, sneaking a glance at you every now and then as he patched up his wound. You understood why; he didn’t wanna be vulnerable in a room where it was only the two of you, so as weird as it was to have a man bleeding out in a breakfast diner, it was still much safer. 

It wasn’t like he was the only one with doubts. For all you know, Jensen Ackles had just gone crazy after Misha Collins died. Same thing might’ve happened to Jared Padalecki. You still wondered what on Earth happened to them, but there was something about the man in front of you that made you feel safe. Your first instinct was to trust him, and that had never happened before. It scared you.

Whatever it was, you just had to give this a shot. Maybe it was the feeling that this whole thing was a lot bigger than you could’ve ever imagined.

“What will you do after this?” you asked him, eyeing the needle in his hand.

The question seemed to upset him, even if he was trying his best to hide it. Something shifted in his gaze, his resolve seemingly faltering for a split second. It only intrigued you even more, getting caught up in his every little move like he was a movie you’ve never seen before.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he offered you a tight-lipped smile, finishing off the stitch with a secured knot, “I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

That answer didn’t make you feel any better. Then, something clicked into place.

When Misha Collins was murdered a few years ago, a “script” for Supernatural was leaked by someone on Tumblr. It spread like wildfire then and you remembered the amount of hate comments the poster got. People assumed it was a weird fanfic to explain how Misha died since the case was never solved and for the longest time, people just stuck with that. A chill ran down your spine as you tried to recall what was in that leaked script. 

Sam and Dean were sent to the “real” world by Balthazar using a spell. They were being chased by some angel whose name you couldn’t remember. Misha was killed while the brothers ran away from the angel. You racked your brain to figure out the last piece of the puzzle. 

“Wait…” you started, doubt blocking you from saying the rest of the sentence. It was crazy, fucking insane, but if your Supernatural knowledge was as solid as you thought it was, then there was only one explanation for his sudden but subtle change in demeanor. “Please don’t tell me you’re stuck here.”

The frown on his face told you everything you needed to know. He was stuck here until someone from his home universe managed to bring him back. 

“Oh my fucking god.”

He chuckled, “Right on the money there, sweetheart.” 

“I shouldn’t be believing you just like that. Why am I believing you? You’re not real. I’m going crazy,” you said out loud, half of it going towards yourself and the other half going towards him. “Monsters aren’t real. Hunters aren’t a thing—”

He frowned, “Hey, I know we got off to a bad start but you can’t just be saying that I’m not real.”

“Prove it to me, then,” you hardened your gaze. “Prove to me that you’re Dean Winchester.”

“What?”

“You heard what I said.”

“Dean” sighed, shifting in his seat so that he was sitting a bit more upright and was fully facing you. Then, he tugged down on the collar of his shirt, revealing a very real anti-possession tattoo on his chest. It was blurred around the edges a little bit, having faded with time. A small gasp left your lips as you took it all in. 

“That’s…” you looked back up at “Dean” and for the first time, you noticed how much older he was compared to the last time you saw him. Or the last time you saw Jensen Ackles. His wrinkles were deeper, his eyes more tired. There were a few tiny scars littered across his face, nearly invisible if you weren’t watching them so closely. His mousy brown hair had a few grey strands that poked out, as well as some grey peppered around his clean five ‘o clock shadow. 

He chuckled once he saw your shocked expression, tapping on the tattoo, “Yeah. Got this bad boy in 2007. Probably saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“What do I even say to that?” you stared at him dumbly.

He realized that you were right. As weird as it was for him to be in a world without monsters and magic, it was probably weirder for you to find out that the world from a TV show was real. He smacked his lips and avoided your gaze, “Um. Yeah. Weird, I know.”

“Weirder than weird, dude,” you sighed, wiping your face with your hands. “I mean, I wanna help, but how the hell am I supposed to help you? You fight like… demons and vampires and stuff. I work from home! On my laptop!”

He looked back at you, smiling awkwardly as you had a mini-existential crisis, “I just, um… Do you have some cash? I got like, twenty bucks in my wallet right now. I just need to get to a motel and you’re never gonna have to see me again.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best way to console a woman in the middle of an existential crisis, but to be fair, the sooner he was gone, the sooner you could get back to your life.

He put back all of the stuff he used from your first aid kit back into its bag, pushing it towards you as he wiped his hands clean with a tissue. He called for Suzanne with a smile, his charm dialed up to a hundred, “Hey, sweetheart, can you pack this up for me? Thanks.”

“Oh, sure thing, sugar,” she beamed at him, before leaning towards you to not-so-quietly whisper, “You done good, hon. Your date right here is such a looker!”

Dean only chuckled lightheartedly at her comment. Suzanne sashayed away with a satisfied giggle, and you had to fight the urge to explode right then and there. You couldn’t believe what was happening to you right now.

You mustered up the courage to speak again, “He shot you a curious look, “What?”

“I…” you deflated. “You can stay at my place. I’m sure I have some clothes there that can fit you.”

“Sweetheart, I appreciate the offer but it’s not safe. Something could’ve come back with me, for all I know,” he leaned back against the faux leather. “I don’t wanna lead it right to you.”

“You’ll keep me safe,” you affirmed, moreso to yourself than to him. “And I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re comfortable and fed and not in a motel in the middle of nowhere. You don’t have your brother with you.”

He nearly forgot that you knew a lot about him because of Supernatural, scoffing a bit at your words, “What am I? A child?”

“No, you’re a hunter and I’m not,” you reminded him. “I can’t fight against anything that decides to break into my home, but you can. It’s not just about you, I already shot myself in the foot by staying with you this long. Granted, I thought you were some actor who’d gone crazy but—”

“I get it, I get it,” he took a deep breath in, cutting you off. He processed your words, feeling a sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was still risky, yeah, but he couldn’t think of a counterargument. You were right, you were a civilian and if there was something that came after you, it was unlikely you’d survive. “Okay then. You got a deal then, lady.”

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “Well then, I guess we’re roommates, Winchester.”

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

author's note: and that concludes the first chapter of everything has changed! unlike last kiss, i won't be publishing all the chapters all in one go (since i'm still writing them), so please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments! of course, reblogs are much always appreciated. see y'all for chapter two &lt;3 p.s. should i start a taglist? let me know as well!

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fem reader #supernatural #reader insert #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fanfic #jensen ackles

[killxio]

the start of something beautiful | r. braun

word count: 402 [ 1 min 30 sec read] | ✪ content warnings: uuuhhh stay away if u team fuck them kids. i mean i am too but like.. who don't love a fictional baby?

✮ new dad!reiner x new mom!reader / reiner x black!reader

you, your man, and y’all’s newborn baby.

- new dad!reiner who cried more than the baby did at birth

- new dad!reiner who, despite not letting you lift a finger since finding out about the pregnancy, still puts you on bedrest for the first few weeks post-partum. regardless of doctor's orders.

- new dad!reiner who rushes to his babygirl's every beck and call. he's learned her different types of cries after just one week, and can damn near hear her cry before she actually starts crying.

- new dad!reiner who's there for every post partum ache or craving, anything you want he'll get.

"whats wrong?" he immediately shoots up from his book in bed at the sight of you teary-eyed.

"it's s-stupid" you sniffle

"how many 'stupid' things have i made happen for you during the pregnancy? you still think i care about stupid?? tell me what's wrong baby."

"i want a kinder bueno bar so badddduhh" you whine, slumping over into the pregnancy pillow you still utilize.

you barely blink and he's sliding on his hoodie and slides.

best believe you got three of those damn bueno bars.

- new dad!reiner of whom you have a video of slowly swaying in the kitchen, lowly singing to an RnB song, daughter laying across one arm and a spatula in the other one early morning.

- new dad!reiner who has no concept of when a baby is meant to start eating solid food.

"so uhhh.. what's going on here?"

"’m introducing her to peanut butter."

"for one, ill be damned if my baby likes that solidifed dog water and two.. she's three and a half weeks old?"

"yeah. and?"

"'rei, that's like 8 month old shit. she can't even sit up on her own?"

(spoiler; not that you liked peanut butter before, but during your pregnancy the smell made you throw up on more than one occasion. no suprise she didn't like it a year later when reiner tried again.)

- new dad!reiner who you find in the hall late one night, showing babygirl your bump progression photos, explaining to her how big she was at each interval and how excited he is that she's finally here in the flesh.

- new dad!reiner who's first post of her had lyrics to "she's mine, pt.2" in the caption.

- new dad!reiner who, again, cries more than the baby does when his paternity leave is up and he has to work again.

- new dad!reiner, who makes you wanna marry him all over again.

#aot au #reiner braun #reiner x y/n #attack on titan reiner #reiner imagine #aot reiner #reiner x reader #reiner brainrot #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #black tumblr #black reader

[vanossfan10]

RWBY: Jaune Arc Mandalorian AU: Jaune’s Starfighter

**During the last Two Years at Beacon, Jaune and his friends all got along he managed to have a very loving relationship with Yang and the two Teams became power houses after their first year, but on one night they played Truth or Dare Jaune Revealed in a Truth he has a Starfighter to help him go earn some cash from bounties in space given to him by his Bounty Hunter Mentor; Boba Fett.**

(Night of the ToD game night)

Ruby: BULLSHIT! I call BULL!! SHIT!!

Yang: Ruby! Language! I’m sure Jaune is just joking

Jaune: who said I was?

Yang:…huh?!….

Teams RWBY & (J)NPR: ………EEEEHHHH!?!?!……

They all yelled in shock and saw that he wasn’t joking at all.

**The very next morning he took Team RWBY and his own team down to Ozpin private landing bay for Beacon where bullhead ships were kept, they all soon saw a ship that was covered in a large grey tarp and once they walked over to it Jaune grabbed the tarp and revealed his Starfighter.**

Ruby:…oh wow…(eyes shine and she begins to drool)…

Weiss: mhm this is quite a spectacle~

Blake: I mean I’ve read these in science fiction books but never thought I’d see one in person

Yang: that’s fucking hot babe~💕

Pyrrha: Jaune you always continue to surprise us

Nora: I WANNA RIDE IT! I WANNA RIDE IT! I WANNA RIDE IT! AND I WANNA BLOW STUFF UP WITH IT!!!

Ren: Nora No! (He said trying to hold her back)

Nora: NORA YES!!

Jaune: I’ll think about it Nora, anyway this is my Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptor, years ago it was originally made for a old warrior race of people known as Jedi but they all went extinct and are only a few left in the Galaxy, as from what my mentor told me when he got this for me

Blake: your mentor got you this?

Jaune: yeah it was a gift after I completed my training, but despite it all I wear his family crest on it to show my thanks to him and to honor my mentor

**Suddenly Weiss interrupted**

Weiss: if that’s so, what’s this art piece supposed to indicate mhm~

**she said in a teasing tone as they all looked at the side of Jaune’s Starfighter wing and saw a pin up spray paint art piece of Yang**

**everyone looked at the pin up with blushes, some covered their mouths and some looked at Jaune with a cheeky smirk, but Yang mostly was looking at it in embarrassment but also a little bit happy on the inside seeing Jaune still thinking of her when he’s away**

Yang: J-Jaune WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?!

Jaune: now Yang come on I can explain

Nora: so fearless leader got a sexy mascot to show off to the galaxy huh

Jaune: NORA!

Pyrrha: my goodness Jaune I didn’t think you’d do that and by yangs reaction you didn’t even get her permission, how deviant of you

Jaune: Pyrrha it’s not what y-

Yang: how could you Jaune! (She said blushing harder)

Jaune: Yang please it is just a pi

Yang: how could you get my Signature Wrong!!

RWB(Y) & JNPR:…….Huh???

**they all said in confusion**

Yang: if you wanted me to be your pin up you should have had me sign it!

Jaune:…..umm…ok I’m sorry?….I guess?

Yang: good but I’ll forgive you under one condition

Jaune: what?

Yang: if you take me for a ride in it first before everyone else

**she said tapping her fingers together and making a pouty face along while doing it**

Jaune: (Giggles) sure thing babe

**he said as he pulls her in for a kiss and her soon accepted his apology from the kiss and his promise**

Nora: can I blow up a Cabbage Stand with it now!

Ren: why a Cabbage Stand?!

Blake: you really wanna ask her that question Ren?

Nora: Well my beautiful Ren Ren, it’s because in every universe there is a Cabbage man who yells “No! My Cabbages!!” It’s a universal thing Ren Ren~💕

Ren: What?

Nora: I WANNA BLOW SHIT UP!!

Ruby: ME TOO!! I WANNA BLOW SHIT UP!!

Ren: NORA NO!!!

Yang: RUBY LANGUAGE!!

Fin

#crossover #rwby #rwby jaune #star wars #vanossfan10 #mandalorian jaune au #rwby au #jaune arc #crossover au #rwby dragonslayer #jaune x yang #yang xiao long #blake bellodona #weiss schnee #rwby ruby #ruby rose #rwby yang #rwby weiss #rwby blake #team rwby #team jnpr #rwby pyrrha #rwby nora #rwby ren #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #Youtube

[luv-gukkie]

cherry | 𖦊 : two

pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader, yandere! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || yandere

summary: you’re the cherry on top of everything. the little girl in front of your parents; the gooody two-shoes of your family, friends, and everyone who knows you. so when you’re staring at the two bright, red lines on the pregnancy test. you know you’re fucked, you really do. especially when there’s not only one man, but seven.

word count: +1.3k

tags/warnings: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don't be silly), creampie, squirting, jungkook is in love>, he’s soft for the reader, mention of namjoon, breeding kink if you squint hard, public sex (in a bathroom), a bit rough, size difference (jk loves it)

notes: why are jungkook’s eyes so pretty? why is HE so pretty? i love namjoon’s dimples, they’re so cute.

tag list: @bananamochidaisy @mageprincess7

༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺

the first thing you saw was his big, doe eyes that smiled back at you. "you look gorgeous." his eyes traveled across your form, taking in the glorious sight. a grin appearing on his face, "like always." you giggled at his compliment, "mr. jeon, you're such a flirt." he nodded his head, snickering as he walked closer to you. you placed a soft kiss on his cheek as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist. he opened the car door on your side, but not before kissing your forehead and mumbling something you couldn't hear. once he started to drive, one of his hands was placed on the steering wheel while the other hand held yours and then switched to rubbing your thigh. "it's just a small party with a few important clients," he explained to you, worried that you may be nervous. "how have you been?" you told him about your week with college, avoiding the time you spent you with taehyung. you just wanted to take extra protection, didn't want to hurt his feelings in case, not wanting it to interfere with anything or more specifically anybody else.

when the both of you arrived, he took your hand into his and placed a kiss on it. jungkook noticing how perfect they look together. the 'small' party was filled with the most luxurious decorations and brimmed with old and new money people. he brings you around, never letting go of you, introducing you to all those rich men with their wives by their side. unknown to you, jungkook sees a future in that, and it's with you. you'll be by his side, and not only when he calls or texts you but every second. his eyes glimmer more with each time he introduces a couple to you. when the both of you finally sit down at the table, jungkook doesn't let go of your hand. you're slightly bothered by the uncomfortable grip he has. "ow jungkook" you whimper. but he just smiles at you and moves your chair close to him that you could feel his hot breath on you. before you could say anything, the host begins their introduction of their speech for the award they are receiving. you rest your head on the chair, bored out of your mind at hearing the same voice. jungkook could tell you were suffering as you sighed too many times with your eyes rolling each time they repeated themselves with a big pout on your lips. he took it in his own hands to make you laugh. he mimicked the host and did exaggerated funny faces until he had nothing left to humor you.

when you closed your eyes, jungkook glanced at your pretty face. your chest heaving up and down with each intake of air, your plump lips such a pretty rose color, and that slit in your dress that makes a contrast to that pure face of yours. "my pretty baby." he laid his head on your collarbone, leaving small pecks along the neck. he let his hand crawl onto your thigh, digging itself through the slit in your dress causing you to yelp his name. a cocky grin on his face at your wide-eyed face. "don't worry. the lights are out and no one's looking." but you quickly shook your head in denial. his hot breath hitting your ear once more when he whispers, "wanna go to the bathroom?" with a smirk on his face. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks at what he was implying.

you followed him to the bathroom, unaware that a pair of eyes watched you from afar. but jungkook smiled at the lustful eyes at your form, a little nod in the direction of the bathroom. it was good to share once in a while. you took the first step inside and were pushed back into the door. his eyes heavy with desire as he dragged the zipper of your dress down once as soon as you two reached the bathroom. "j-jungkook the doo-", interrupted by his lips smashing onto yours, his tongue fooling around.

that's how you two find yourselves in a bathroom stall, bodies dripping with sweat. each of his hands are wrapped around with one of yours, pushing them on the wall. you bite your rosy lips, no longer having your hands to use since jungkook thought it would help the moans escape. "c'mon baby, i wanna hear your moans", he groans out. your manicured nails scratch his knuckles each time he thrusts upwards. your legs, on each side of him, tremble at the pleasure. his lips mold into yours, his tongue plays around in your mouth. his back flexes each time he fucks into your small hole. "aw, your so fucking cute baby." his dilated eyes stare into your face, your eyes roll to the back but for a new reason. jungkook loves how you're too small compared to him.

"shit, don't know how you wrap around my cock baby." your tits are jumping all around when your toyed around on the wall, plunging down and up on his cock. you cry out his name at another sticky release that adds lubrication. you clench hard around him, feeling each vein on his shaft. he mumbles curses out at the sensation of your gummy walls closing around him. "i'll never get sick of fucking this pussy" he grunts out to your ear as he lets one of your hands go to push the huge bump in your tummy. the one that makes you gasp in surprise each time he slides in between your folds. his pelvis meets your sensitive, red skin over and over. each time harder than the last, manhandling you like the pretty doll you are. he connects both your foreheads together, his pretty smile spreading on his lips as his black hair scratches your skin. he lets out a low moan, pecking your nose in the process of spreading your legs farther apart and digging his cock into the deepest part of your womb, white cum bulging your walls. "n-no jungkook", you whine but you know it's already too late. your insides are all warm and stuffed with his cock and loads of cum. you can feel it drip down the insides of your legs.

you were oblivious to the door that opened minutes ago, too busy being a pretty slut for jungkook. the man fixed his tux in the mirror, he could hear his friend and you panting. it's not until he hears the squelches of the wetness (his cock parting your folds again) and small moans that he realizes jungkook's not done yet. "this kid," he pauses before calling the young man. your eyes open ten times at the realization that there was another man, blush coating your cheeks due to embarrassment. it has jungkook giggling at the reaction, "it's okay, don't be scared, he's gonna join us my pretty girl." he smiles at you, rubbing your hands as a way to calm you down.

"hurry namjoon!"

#bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere #bts #bts smut #bangtan #bts taehyung #tw yandere #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook #namjoon #jeon jungkook #bts gguk #bts jungkook #bts jungguk #yandere x reader #yandere jungkook

[skylarsblue]

✦Call of Duty Bio Headcanons✦

(I know they have canon ages and heights and stuff, but listen. It's fiction, and I think I know better(/j). You can disagree, but these are my opinions. Also, obviously, not all of the info has changed.)

✧John Price✧

Age: 42 y.o Height: 6'2" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: "Sexy-Is-Sexy" (Or Pansexual) Middle Name: Samuel Likes: Whiskey, vintage radios, old westerns, horses, & mint ice cream. Dislikes: Streaming services, cigarettes(ironic), spicy food, dust, & cottage cheese. Birthday: January 1st Zodiac: Capricorn -Trivia- -Allergic to cats and didn't know until he moved out because his mother had like, four. Grew up around them his entire childhood and was honestly devastated when he realized they make him sick cause he loves'em. -He was definitely a fuck boy in high school/college. Not an asshole one, he made his intentions up front and he was overall sweet, but he didn't wanna be tied down. Ironic given how he ended up wanting the exact opposite later on. -Wishes he took better care of his teeth as a kid. They look great now but he has five fillings in his molars and one (now replaced), silver tooth all the way in the back. Phobia: Amenisphobia; The fear of amnesia Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Kyle "Gaz" Garrick✧

Age: 26 y.o Height: 6'0" Pronouns: He/Him (I heavily support the trans!Gaz HC) Sexuality: Bisexual w/ a male preference Middle Name: Dylin Likes: Hot chocolate, the smell of lavender, coconut, licorice toffee, & nostalgic music. Dislikes: Milk, politics(irony again), Winter, grocery shopping, & spiders. Birthday: September 5th Zodiac: Virgo -Trivia- -Second oldest of four children, the only boy. He's a family man when it comes to his siblings, but not so much when it comes to his parents. Barely present father and a stressed out mother create for a shaky relationship with them. -Cannot cook to save his life. Man lives off of delivery, MREs, and cup noodles. He knows like...four dishes, and most of them are really simple. -Struggles decorating and making outfits cause he likes tons of different aesthetics. Everything from Scene Kid(for his inner teen) to streetwear. His version of housed decor are a bunch of plants. (Fake so they don't die when he's on deployment) Phobia: Arachnophobia; fear of arachnids/spiders. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Dyslexia)

✧Johnny "Soap" MacTavish✧

Age: 29 y.o Height: 5'8" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Omnisexual Middle Name: Neil (heh) Likes: Knickknacks, loud music, punk aesthetic, chickens, & football(aka Soccer for us pathetic Americans). Dislikes: Silence, sitting still, vague answers, being told what to do, & big dogs. Birthday: August 12th Zodiac: Leo -Trivia- -Constantly on & off with a caffeine addiction. He'll do really good about just drinking water, then he'll have one energy drink and he's fucked it all up again. -The scar on his chin is from a dog, the scar in his eyebrow is from a fight he got in as a teenager. He got in a lot of trouble as a teen. -Borderline pyromaniac, honestly. Hyperfixated on fire as a kid and now he's really happy to be a bombtech. Bro loves blowing shit up. Phobia: Cynophobia; fear of dogs. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (ADHD, hyperlexia)

✧Simon "Ghost" Riley✧

Age: 36 y.o Height: 6'4" Pronouns: He/It (Using "it" makes him seem more ominous, which he thinks is fun) Sexuality: Gay or Homoflexible, demisexual/demiromantic probably Middle Name: Achilles Likes: Birds, alternative indie music, dark chocolate, Victorian architecture, & murder mystery books. Dislikes: Snakes, graveyards, the dark(when it's completely pitch black), 99% of physical touch, & fluorescent lights. Birthday: December 30th Zodiac: Capricorn -Trivia- -He'll never admit it but he loves babies. They're super tiny and super cute, and Simon's heart always melts when one's around. Alas, he's also terrified of scaring them or getting attached, so he avoids babies as best he can. Can't have people thinking he's soft. -Makes the best steak in Manchester. Sometimes his seasoning is bland but the meat itself is perfection, you won't find any better. Melts in your mouth every time. It's a steak equivalent of 6 orgasms. It IS an orgasm. He makes great fucking steak. -Isn't fond of pure silence like Soap, but he doesn't often wanna fill it with loud sounds. He has a playlist of softer, more instrumental songs for this. Or he'll listen to nature sounds. He likes quiet, just not silent. Phobia: Taphephobia; the fear of being buried alive. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Autistic, dyscalculia)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Age: 38 y.o Height: 5'11" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual (Maybe Poly? He's not sure) Middle Name: N/A Likes: Hot drinks, the smell of roses, his nieces/nephews, physical affection, & cowboy hats. Dislikes: Sweaty palms, tourist-y Americans, caramel sauce, white-lies, & the feeling of glue. Birthday: March 25th Zodiac: Aries -Trivia- -Was with Valeria for awhile, but differences, stress, and Valeria discovering she was pretty gay broke them up. They had some tension, but he wasn't bitter towards her. Until she betrayed them, of course. -Was actually the last of his friend group to lose his virginity. He's a passionate, flirty man, but he's not throwing that kind of trust out willy-nilly. He had a few relationships but didn't reach that point until he was like, 19, about to turn 20. He asked a friend to share the moment with him. ...a close friend. -Cannot function in the cold at all. And his definition of cold is 21 degrees Celsius. (70 Fahrenheit for us Americans) He layers and complains all day, he's got a fuckin' heated blanket. A heated blanket owner in fucking MEXICO. Phobia: Coulrophobia; the fear of clowns Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra✧

Age: 38 y.o Height: 5'9" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual (Also maybe poly but he's very hesitant about it) Middle Name: N/A Likes: Ice baths, windchimes, baked sweets(mostly pie), clean handwriting, & naps on the couch. Dislikes: Cutting onions, heavy blankets, confrontation(with like, loved ones. Not on duty, obviously), slow walkers, & reptiles. Birthday: June 20th Zodiac: Gemini -Trivia- -Super good at singing, but he never does, because he's embarrassed. His mother would often encourage him to sing when he was younger at family gatherings, and now he cringes when someone hears him sing and comments on it. -His house is full of fans. Some rooms have more than one. They're running basically all the time, as well as the AC. Sometimes he has to get a family member to go home and turn them off when he's on a long mission. -He knew Alejandro before Alejandro knew him. When they were kids, Rudy was shy and had some problems with his health(exercise induced asthma mostly), so he didn't go out of his way to befriend other kids much. But he was a people watcher, and Alejandro was the most fun to watch. They actually met because one of Alejandro's friends pointed it out and called him creepy, only for Alejandro to defend him. Then they became super close friends! Phobia: Bufonophobia; the fear of toads Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Autistic, echolalia)

✧Valeria Garza✧

Age: 39 y.o Height: 5'7" Pronouns: She/It Sexuality: Sapphic Demiromantic Middle Name: N/A Likes: Expensive paintings, perfect nail-polish, sandalwood incense, lemon water, & flowers. Dislikes: Shaving, back-talk, tiny text on documents or books, chunky rings, & pineapple. Birthday: January 23rd Zodiac: Aquarius -Trivia- -Has a pull to religious imagery in a darker light because of religious trauma. Roman Catholicism is quite common in Mexico, but her parents were really heavy about it. To the point it makes Valeria bitter over it. She has a rocky relationship with God, but finds Mary comforting. Because when she was brought to church, but wanted to hide, she'd hide beside a Mary statue in a corner. -She has an odd sleep schedule. She often only gets four hours of sleep, but she doesn't seem to be tired at any point. In fact, the more sleep she gets, the more lethargic she is that day. -Her first girlfriend was when she was still in the military. A traveling medic from Italy. Unfortunately, the flame came and went thanks to the medic having to leave. Valeria has moved on, but she does mourn their lost time sometimes and has a little dream of meeting her again one day. Though she knows that's not practical. Phobia: Ecclesiophobia; the fear of church Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Alex Keller✧

Age: 36 y.o Height: 6'1" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Heteroflexible Middle Name: Sebastian (he's embarrassed about this) Likes: Golden retrievers, bad jokes, most seafood, provolone cheese, & hummus. Dislikes: Thanksgiving, the sound of rubbing styrofoam, being told to "do what he wants"(makes him feel aimless), tobacco smell, & overzealousness. (He likes simplicity...excluding his tattoos) Birthday: December 2nd Zodiac: Sagittarius -Trivia- -He doesn't really talk to his family excluding holidays. BUT, he will always keep in contact with his older sister, and his niece by proxy. They're the only two that made him feel wanted in his family. He wasn't abused in his mind, but he wasn't paid attention to much either. He always seemed overshadowed by something/someone, and as he got older, he got tired of feeling like an outcast in his own family. So he slowly drifted away and he goes on the guidance of orders he receives. -Probably born in a small town in a place like Utah. He's got small-town-mid-south manners. But I like to imagine he spent a lot of his time in California too, he seems like he'd enjoy the sun and the ocean. -Picks up languages really quick, somehow. At least, when he's around people that speak it. If he had to learn purely from books, he'd have choppy speech at best. He's fluent in English, Spanish, and Arabic. Also, knows a bit of ASL, but he's still working on that one. Phobia: Lilapsophobia; the fear of hurricanes/tornadoes Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Hyperlexia, SPD)

✧Farah Ahmed Karim✧

Age: 30 y.o Height: 5'5" Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Aliquaromantic Demi-Bisexual Middle Name: N/A Likes: Poppies, motorcycles, pretty much any food with chickpeas, super spicy stuff, and the sky at dusk. Dislikes: Overly salty things, riddles, genuine cockiness, the feeling of rust(that includes on spoons...), & long winded responses. Birthday: July 1st Zodiac: Cancer -Trivia- -Keeps her hair long despite the fact it's annoying to deal with sometimes. Purely for sentimental reasons. To her, it represents the growth she's had as a person. A far cry from the buzz-cut she was forced into when under someone else's control. So she refuses to cut it. -She will never use it, and she despises it, but she's semi-fluent in Russian. Being around it for so long made her pick it up. It works well if she needs to translate, but she'll be caught dead before she speaks Russian. -Honestly can't cook for shit. She doesn't know what the hell she's doing in the kitchen and basically relies on MREs or the skills of others. She's not a picky eater though, and she'll always finish what's put in front of her, even if she's not fond of it. Phobia: Agniophobia; fear of choking Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Konig✧

Age: 28 y.o Height: 6'10" Pronouns: He/They Sexuality: Bisexual Middle Name: Obercht (Bonus)Last Name: Badubrecht Likes: Making bracelets, boxing(watching or doing), soda, heavy metal, & fresh bread. Dislikes: Certain kinds of wool, small cars, low doorframes, having to go to the medic, & the smell of hay. Birthday: March 9th Zodiac: Pisces -Trivia- -Was bullied all through high school for various things. His demeanor, his size, his hair(which was long), his cleft lip scar, etc. It took until he hit the largest growth spurt he ever had in secondary school when people began to stop poking fun, but instead avoid him. He maybe had 2-3 actual friends in his entire life before the military. And even now he mostly has acquaintances, not friends. -Doesn't talk to his mother, she was overbearing and cruel, mostly because Konig looks a lot like his father. He doesn't really talk to his father much because the man is hard to talk to. He's not completely cut off, but they are estranged. Konig's grandma hears from him almost every day, sometimes twice a day. She's a badass in her 90s who has never done him wrong, and he would blow up the entire world if anything happened to her. -Sometimes Konig gets comments that say he's got multiple personalities. (By uneducated people, clearly) Because he seems to switch dramatically between modes depending on time, place, and circumstance. Sometimes he's childish and giggly, cute even. Sometimes he's silent, unreadable, and withdrawn. And on the battlefield he's...inhuman, terrifying, and nothing short of bloodthirsty. Phobia: Equinophobia; the fear of horses. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (autistic)

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #modern warfare #captain john price #john price #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #konig call of duty #farah karim #alex keller #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #valeria el sin nombre garza #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #soap x gaz #headcanons #call of duty headcanons

[absolutebl]

Hi.

I was watching TharnType for the first time. I started wondering why people have issues with gay for you and wifey and other things like that. From what I'm seeing it isn't intended in a harmful spirit. It's not received badly in the show in context. I'm not just specifically talking about TharnType but just these tropes in general. I was wondering if someone, the writer/screenwriter, director, any actor or someone else said that they'd intended it as demeaning or in a bad way... I don't know if I phrased that correctly. But I guess I'm wondering what people are basing this on. Even UWMA's Pharm's entire demeanor. Before I watched it I'd read that he is too feminine and damsel in distress-y. But watching the show made me realize that he is traumatized. I noticed similar patterns with other shows as well. Is it audience interpretations?

BL Is a Mess of Really Damaging Stuff & You Probably Shouldn't Just Accept it

Because, if you do just accept it without thought, you're also being damaged. If you're gay, you're being taught a type of gayness that doesn't exist and will fuck up your expectations. If you're straight you're misinterpreting what an entire group of people are like (that's prejudice, FYI). And if you're somewhere in between you're learning really bad behavior patterns for your coming out and self actualization journey.

And no, I don't think you're capable of distinguishing fiction from reality, because you've just asked a question that patently demonstrates a burgeoning parasocial tendency. (And yes, parasocial relationships can and do form with fictional characters. Why do you think I am so terrified by KinnPorsche fandom and shipper culture?)

Here have some education, first one is free:

Imaginary Friends & Real-World Consequences: Parasocial Relationships (YouTube video)

But also, if you don't want me to rant about this, and you just wanted to justify your questionable taste, you should stop reading right now. I get it, denial is great! Go sail that river.

Here I am talking about the good BL can do. That doesn't mean I'm blind to its flaws.

Still reading?

Okay, well, now you asked for it.

And guess what, I'm not gonna sugar lube coat it.

Consider yourself Drunk Type lying in a bed and I'm Tharn's c*** shoving some dry BL reality into your a******.

Oh, don't like that image, do you?

Tough nuts.

Put yourself in my position. I don't wanna have to do this either.

Consider this a "BL narratives made me do it" post.

I'm not responsible for anything, I'm just an archetype.

I'll be your seme for today and you were all just "too cute" for me to resist and now you have to take some tumblr dub con...

But first:

Seme uke when it specifically conflates seme with "the man" and uke with "the girl" is old fashioned, anti-feminist, and anti-queer. Here's some of where I talk about it, but I talk about it a lot. Too much, some might say.

Pharm is a blushing maiden archetype character, I talk about it and what that means here:

It's sex negative. And a lot of it stems from internalized misogyny and ties to something called benevolent sexism. It's pretty rampant in BL.

Yes I think Pharm's behavior can be perceived as traumatized, but that trauma is brought about by In's past actions and the fact that In was punished (BY THE NARRATIVE) not just for being gay but for being a self-actualized pro-sex uke character.

There is a distinction being made between critical discourse over narrative versus how the characters behavior makes an audience feel (within the immersive experience of the drama). Some viewers care about this distinction, others do not.

I very much get why someone might like TharnType (I did) but actually also, you might want to think about why you like it despite the messages the narrative is sending... You might want to think about not just the characters in their little perfect romance world together, but consider if you were in the position of either of those characters how you would feel or behave.

And NOW the Dub Con Portion of tonight's BL party

Okay I was trying to be my usual semiseme-welcoming snark self but ya know what, let's be VERY FUCKING CLEAR HERE because I am jet lagged and tetchy....

We (the collective of BL critics here on tumblr) aren't always talking about WHAT is depicted so much as HOW it's depicted, and whether that HOW allows the WHAT to skate by without encouraging the audience to reflect on the damage the WHAT does to their own perception of what is romantic. Or what is queer. Or what is morally acceptable for decent human interaction.

Like thinking, for example, that it's okay for Tharn to RAPE Type while he is drunk.

Why on earth is that okay? It's NOT OKAY. It's just NOT!!!!

Did Type ask for it?

Did he dress too sexy?

Was his skirt too short?

Was he too much of a jerk?

Did he want it anyway?

Did he not protest enough?

Did he protest too much?

You gonna make that call for him, are you? You read his mind (apparently the way Tharn can?)

But SERIOUSLY.

What if you were actually in Type's position? Roommates with someone you didn't like who molested you when you were drunk. At home. In your own bed. What if that roommate didn't look like Tharn? What if your roommate were the wrong gender or body type or age or familial relationship (!) for your preferences? How would you actually feel?

Because if you're okay with this, really okay for yourself, you have a strong kink and you need to seek out the appropriate community or you are signing up for a very abusive relationship and likely an early death.

Can't put yourself in Type's shoes/bed?

How about Tharn?

Are you the kind of human who would molest a drunk person just because you desired him? Her?

Because they're homophobic and you want to punish them with your queerness?

Because they were a jerk to you?

You always get back at people by raping them?

You an old white dude putting your hand down secretary's shirts because they're just "too cute to resist"?

Why should you have to resist taking what you want? Who cares that there is a whole other human involved?

Grabbing ladies by the pussy any chance you get and bragging about it, are ya? Or is it somehow different or less damaging because TT is dude on dude?

So, are you gonna justify taking what you want and violating another person because they're the same sex?

Now who's being "gay for you"? This is going all the way into DL closet case "it doesn't count if it's with a man" territory.

Because if you are any of the above 8, please block me right tf now. (And... do I have a world leader to recommend for YOU to get into a car with.)

GAH!

Fucking TharnType.

Anygay...

I talk about dub con here:

My initial post about TharnType is here, but more recently here's us having a whole ThanType discourse unpacking Mame among other things as part of the BL movement both as a genre and as a fandom:

and here's an important article on rape culture in Thailand

Gay for you talked about here:

Wife language talked about here:

I'm gonna go watch some BL trash that, hopefully, doesn't have any rape in it. (You never know tho...)

Fuck me (consensually) I am so tired.

I'd drink but I did too much of that already this week.

Maybe I need to eat something.

Don't troll m,e just block me.

For heaven's sake please.

(source)

#ABL goes on a rant #sorry not sorry #could we please stop having this conversion #just try putting yourself into these characters shoes #for me? #also ARRRGGHHHHHHHHHH #thai bl #rape culture and misogyny and benevolent sexism and .... #I don't wanna think about this anymore so I'm not entertaining anymore asks on these subjects I'm just pointing people at this rant FOREVER #I watch BL to forget about this stuff

[romeulusroy]

Good Mourning (Roman Roy Onesoht))

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Roman, Kendall, Shiv, Connor, Logan, Willa

Word Count: 1,621

Inspired By: I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Last nights episode was such a hard watch, it brought back deeply painful memories and the only way I know how to cope is to write. Omg Roman the entire episode. Omg that fucking recording Frank or whoever brought up, laughing at it. I know it's only fictional, but still. Omg the ending with Kendall and the running away. Omg this episode, I will never recover. I wanna go back to when he was telling Matsson to fuck off. I know I can make this better so I will lol. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You’ve talked about death, about the forever-ness of it. You’ve talked about what you want arranged once you’re gone. He was always hesitant, afraid, as if speaking about it would make it happen sooner, faster. As if Death herself were listening and waiting to strike for the right moment when he let down his guard and forgot all about her. As if Death were like the people in his life: cruel. Parts of you have been scared of her. She takes and she never gives back. She leaves a hole in your chest where something should be. She’s made you scream and cry in the past, leaving this gut-wrenching emptiness inside of you. Parts of you have admired her. When she loves someone, she loves deeply, effortlessly, showing affection to those who have never deserved it in their lifetime. She takes all, never discriminating. She takes fully, everything that they are and everything that they become. Death is not something you wish to be scared of for the rest of your life. People try to outrun her by denying their age, their time well spent, but you? You know you will welcome every gray, every wrinkly, every line and deep groove. It is a privilege to be able to see yourself live. It is a privilege to get old. You hope you can do so by his side, hand in wrinkled hand. 

Talking about it and coming face to face with it are two very different things, of course. You cannot take your eyes off it, the casket, heaving all the attention in the room. Inside is Logan Roy, the most powerful man you have ever met. The angriest man you have ever met. Gone. you knew there would be a crash. All his manic energy getting ready this morning, feeling on top of the world, pink cards in hand. You’d straightened his collar, smoothing his jacket, fearing the worst. You learned a long time ago that the Roy family burned as bright as the sun, hot and glowing, but they burned as bright as the sun, until there was nothing left of them. This morning he was the sun. He was confident, even joyous, but he was not feeling. He was not prepared for the reality of it all to smack him across the face as Logan used to do. There was nothing you could do to protect him from this, from them. This was not the funeral of a devoted, loving father, but of a monster. All his minions came to watch, to see if it was real. Was their leader really gone? It was a spectacle, another place of meeting. You were behind Kendall when Hugo started talking to him about Gojo. you shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, though you would have thought they would have had a little more class. The whole way up the steps and through the church your hand remained in his, squeezing it ever so lightly when his rose colored glasses began to slip. You don’t know if he even notices, busy directing friends and business partners and even his cousin, who is not at all disturbed by his own behavior. Mencken gives you a hug that makes your skin crawl, but you do not object. This day is not about you, about any of you, rather it is about them and their grief.

You watch the pink cards shake in his palm. It's too late to stop him, to drag him back with you, to shield him from Death and her icy grip. What you wouldn’t give to go back, turn back the clocks, save him from himself. Ewan is finally finished, so he stands, shuffling towards the podium. You have given up on God a long time ago. You and Him, you never got along. But you pray to him in this moment, you pray that your love will get through this in one piece, that for once He will be kind to him. You pray and you hold your breath as you do, watching his hands begin to shake. His voice catches in his throat, tears welling up in his eyes. Fuck, you begin to think. Not today, please not today, not now, not him. Anyone else but him. Kendall, Shiv, Connor, they stand. You want to run to him, to hold him, but Willa grabs your hand. She can see what you’re thinking. She can see how dangerous it would look. What would they say if you came running to his rescue? He would be ruined. You can hear him, his head bowed: I can’t, I can’t do this. He is crying now, panting, motioning at the coffin. Willas grip tightens. You want to scream. Tears begin to fall down your face. Not for that bastard, the man who hurt him so many times he began to think that’s what love is. No, for Roman. For all the versions of him before you. The scared little boy attending his fathers funeral. For the wounded puppy that just wants him back. For the abused man that you love, that you cherish, the grief he’s been putting off finally settling in. He finds his way back to you, to the pew, shaking. Finally, she lets go, your arms finding their way around him, his head falling on your shoulder. You take one look back behind you, towards Logan's minions, and they are smiling. You shush him, his cries, wiping his cheek with your hand. It’s okay Rome, it’s okay, you say over and over again. To him, to yourself. It’s okay, no one will hurt you again, though you know you cannot make that kind of grand promise. You know it’s already too late. 

Neither of you stay long. It is Kendall who thanks everyone for coming, shaking hands, giving hugs, until he too is tired of the charade. All the way there he sniffles beside you, his eyes red, his cheeks flushed. You want to stop the car, stop everything, give him all the time and room to cry as he needs, but you know better. This world is not made to accommodate. This life is not one you are free to express even at the loss of a parent. They expect you to be normal, not to inconvenience them with your grief, not to show it. You hold him, keeping him close, feeling his racing heartbeat. You couldn’t have protected him from this. There was no way. Not from the funeral, not from the “burial” , not from Death herself. How you wished you could wrap him up in a cocoon and save him from all the heartache. Instead the car stops in front of the mausoleum. It is giant and lacking life. Sterile. Monstrous. Roman does not go in like his siblings, instead lingering on the outside. You and Willa stand off to the side, understanding your place in all this. No one notices this, but you. The way he stands, hands in his pockets, hunched, as if he wants to curl into a ball. As if he wants to disappear. When they bring the coffin up, his leg begins to shake, then his whole body. Finally he stands, talking to himself, not waiting for it to be over, racing to the car. You know better than to follow. He needs his alone time, he needs the tinted windows, he needs to do what he needs to get through this. You hope against hope that he isn’t spiraling, heading towards self-destruction. He never learned that it wasn’t his fault. Everything, everything was because he messed up, because he did or said something, because he was a fuck up. Logan taught him this and you, very slowly, very patiently, were trying to get him to unlearn it. All of it. 

The reception is packed. Too many people, too many bodies, they put an ocean between you and him. Roman struggles to meet your eyes. He’s back to himself, kind of, recovered in the eyes of the public. Only you can see him struggling, only you can see the mask slipping. He leaves you to get a drink, mingle, following his brother obediently. You want to remind him that grief is an all encompassing thing. It is unpredictable and powerful and it’s okay. But he won’t listen, shaking off any comforts. He wants to be uncomfortable, he wants to be in pain, it's the only thing he knows. The only thing he can love at this moment. You shouldn’t be hurt by it, but you are. He thinks he should be more like Logan, but you believe the opposite. You love him as he is, not for who he should become. You watch him carefully, understanding he does not want you near, unable to let him go. You talk to no one, you can’t even stand to look at them. The way they smiled, mocking him in his time of grief, as if the loss of father from son is to be taken lightly. You only take your eyes off him for a moment, but he is gone. You go to Kendall, panicked, but all he can say is he left. You’re running after him, calling his name, but he is too quick. Beyond the barriers he jumps into the crowd. Someone punches him, over and over, and you cannot help but scream. He keeps moving though, keeps instigating fights. You try to call him, but he does not listen. That same, scared little boy is running towards what he’s always known: suffering. 

You’re not sure what to do, how to help. You’re not sure you can help. He's made his decision. It has always been too late.

#writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #succession spoilers

[eldritch-spouse]

Ik you like Dedan, but would you be willing to walk him on a leash before he inevitably beats your ass? I just wanna top him, pleaaase tell me I'm not alone....I'll die but like damn it'll be glorious!!

[Inevitably beats my ass? No no, as master of my own fiction I condemn this man to being a pathetic pervert loser who can be topped the same way he tops you.]

Dedan should be made to wait for it. So he can truly appreciate you, you know?

Think about it, he's repulsed by the elsen around him, seems to hate the way the other zone guardians are doing their job, and the only other woman around is the Queen, who he's not about to disrespect. So that leaves little old you as a candidate for his sexual frustrations, doesn't it? You're not royalty, you're not in charge of any zones (though given how weird you look, no one would blame him for assuming), and you're not one of those wimps sweating themselves into an anxiety attack at every second. You're even kind of easy on the eyes, on second thought. Dedan's laughing just thinking about how unlucky you are to have fallen into his zone.

His plan of action is to have you work for him, because you're not just going to freeload your way across his zone, and from then on he bets he can easily have you in the palm of his hand.

While you probably have no choice but to accept the job offer, you can passively resist his advances for a while. Shooting him down when he wants to talk to you outside of work hours, rejecting gifts and keeping your professional face on at all times.

He can't intimidate you, and he doesn't want to beat the only person he kind of respects to a bloody pulp to get this way, so Dedan just seethes. At the same time that he's upset you won't bend to his will he's also incredibly thrilled- It makes you more attractive to him.

He knows it's going to get ugly when Dedan gets boners after arguing with you. The bloodflow rushing to his cock won't let him think and he has to take care of it.

Jerking off to the thought of you becomes vividly stalking after you (harassing you) during work hours just so he can get a daily dose of excitement, a daily dose of his new fixation.

Blatant showing off doesn't work. Intimidation doesn't work. Making decisions for you doesn't work. Dedan grits his gruesome teeth as he ponders sweetening you up, bending over to get your favor...

It would take weeks, months maybe. A year even! He's a stubborn motherfucker and he'll fight the inevitable just because he can.

But one day he'll crack.

And he'll beg for it. Perhaps not a literal "please fuck me", but you can read between the lines.

And the first time you tell him that it'll only happen if he lets you walk him around on a leash, Dedan explodes. Calling you all manner of heinous names, and telling you to go fuck yourself in about thirty different ways.

Oh, but the thought lingers in his mind.

For way too long.

Are you even capable of such? The balls you must have to say this to him to begin with...

And then, one day-

Dedan shows up with his own leash.

He doesn't say a word, doesn't need to, he might as well be on his hands and knees waving his ass at you.

#unrelated⭐️

[babkaboy]

I’ve always been curious about Obikin, because it never felt right to me, but it isn’t exactly a pro-ship? I can never really tell. On one hand there’s the “you were my brother Anakin” on the other theres the headcanons. I just wanna know what the appeal is from someone who ships them. /gen

i’m not the best person to answer this bc i really don’t care at all if a ship is problematic or proshipper or whatever lol, i mean the first thing i did after watching the kenobi show was to look out for art and fics of vader nonconning obi-wan 🤪 and even if anakin and obiwan were siblings (which they aren’t let’s be real) i’m all for the dead dove ngl!! also it’s fiction… have a little more fun cuz this shouldn’t be that different than playing with our barbies when we were 4 and making them kill each other or have orgies together lol

but to answer your question, first i found their cat-and-mouse dynamic in kenobi really hot. vader obsessing diligently on his old master who he claims he doesn’t care about anymore was crazy. however, i think obikin is a beautifully complicated relationship. it’s canon that both anakin and obi-wan’s entire relationship is built on duality: master and apprentice, dark and light, love and hate, two halves of the same coin. this is some soulmatism shit that i fuck with and i was never into the whole soulmates tbh. i also think obi-wan is a heavily repressed man in terms of love and attachments and following the code to the core, and ofc struggles with his love for anakin: he cannot control him in any way for the force against humanity that anakin is (he’s such a momboy) plus he had the chance to kill him a couple of times and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it and finally free him from the misery of being darth vader, bc of his love for him. he even spent his life in exile and probably didn’t kill himself just for the sake of anakin’s children. it’s not a coincidence that he decided to finally die and join the force when luke and leia were reunited and he guaranteed their safety

and then you have anakin who is anything but someone who subdues his feelings: he thrives for love, love is was fuels him and the reason he Fell on the first place, he pushes and pushes like the way he did to get padme to love him. i simply love how their own approach to love complements each other so well and i cannot get enough of it, bc at the end of the day they are both each other’s most important person. like look at this extract of this novel where anakin finally joins the force after ROTJ and how obi-wan has his own whole sentence from the other ones (even from padme!!!! or shmi!!!!)

idk man i just love them so much

#obikin #also ppl need to stop calling incest whatever they don’t like #saying that their age difference is too big is one thing BUT INCEST??? 😭 #they are literally not siblings or neither grew up together in that way so that statement is just simply wrong #and feels like a lazy excuse idk… in any case they were “brother in arms” #but honestly? whatever like even if i they were i would still find it hot (or maybe even hotter) #i have literally drawn noncon obikin scenarios of anakin molesting a 12 y/o obi-wan or anakin fucking his biologic mother obiwan #do you think “you were my brother anakin” does face me 🤣