#i get that it's harder to write more realistically

[eetherealgoddess]

Can you make a fem reader whose is a martial artist with a yan bonten but she doesn’t let them get her easily

ik it's been a while y'all but don't worry bc i will be getting through your requests!!

idk much about martial arts so I’m just gonna do my best with the fighting scene. hope you enjoy!

also, why am i more inclined to write when i’m high 😩

ꨄFight For Your Lifeꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You’ve been on the run from your childhood friends❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Fight For Your Life

The platforms of your shoes slap against the wet concrete, puddles of water splashing as you ignore the rain falling on your skin. Your bloody clothes hugging against your body uncomfortably as the street lights glow amongst the dark sky, the empty buildings sitting under as you run past with squinted eyes. Your lips are apart as you take in quick breaths, though you tried to keep the panting steady. The adrenaline running through your veins made it easier to ignore the goosebumps caused by the cold air hitting your dermis and the red liquid running down your nose.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you ran from your totaled car. It was amazing how you slipped away, not expecting the driver of the car to have died on impact. You knew exactly who sent the sheep, snarling as you remember the men you couldn’t seem to escape for long. Although you made it far enough to stay in a motel a great distance away from Japan, you still had a long way to go.

I’m so tired of this shit.

It’s frustrating having to travel from place to place, continuously spending a limited amount of money just to be free from the grasp of the yakuza. If you would’ve known that you would be abducted as an adult by your childhood friends who disappeared without any warning, you wouldn’t have become close to them in the first place. To have been so devoted to them and the rest of the gang, only for them to abandon you and reappear without warning, snatching you up and treating you as property rather than a person, murdering most of your loved ones without a care of how that could affect you. Not only is the situation painful but demeaning. How could they treat you like that? No explanation for the disappearance nor the behavior, not that you needed it. Who they are now explains everything you need to know.

Ignoring the tightness of your chest became harder as you slowed your pace, halting your movements before bending over, hands on your knees. You gripped the fabric of your pants as your eyes closed, head dropping as you struggled to steady your breathing. Your tears of frustration mix with the droplets of rain, finally lifting your body and rubbing your sleeve against your eyes, only for the moisture to return.

Your eyes widen as bright lights flash behind you before you swiftly turn your body to face the car speeding toward you. The loud engine roars as the vehicle darts down the hill through the fog. You search around your surroundings for a good hiding spot amongst the empty stores. You huff before running behind a structure closest to you. You find a dumpster, cursing as you open it and climb in, ignoring your discomfort for bacteria as you cover your nose and close yourself into the darkness, praying to not feel anything crawling on you as you rub your face with both hands, smearing the blood from your nose.

You breathe in through your nose and release from your mouth, ignoring the overwhelming stench as you listen for anyone close. The pouring rain made it difficult to hear any footsteps if someone were to walk near. You closed your eyes as you pant into your cupped hands quietly. You patiently stay in your spot for what feels like a while, planning to hide in the dumpster all night long if you have to. The phone you bought when you ran from Bonten was lost in the wreck, hidden behind the broken machinery and shattered glass so you had no way to contact anyone to help, not that you knew anyone. You also didn’t know if the police would help you anyway considering Bonten has some of them wrapped around their fingers.

The top of the dumpster is snatched open, rain pouring as the sound of your screaming covers the droplets landing on the full sacks of trash. You struggle against the hold on your wrist as you’re yanked out of the hiding place, feet meeting the ground.

“The more you struggle the harder this will be for you!” The man growled, attempting to hold you in place. When he pulls you toward him with his grip tightening, you straighten your posture before pulling your head back and slamming it against his forehead causing him to release you as he grabs his head in pain. Running on nothing but adrenaline, you dash away from the man as you ignore the throbbing ache of your head, only to run in the direction of two more men speeding towards you.

“Shit!” You hiss before turning back around.

“Get her idiot or it’ll be our asses!” One of the men exclaimed on his way toward you as he faced the original male whose face is still scrunched in pain.

Just as you were about to pass the man who attacked you, he reached for you in which you dodged before continuing to make your escape. Before you could succeed, you are snatched by the collar of your top and yanked back. You gasp as you feel the sting from the sudden pressure on your neck, though your shock doesn’t last long.

“Gotcha you bit-!” He grunts and bends over, releasing you in the process when you elbow his stomach with as much strength as you could muster, so much so you release your own throated shriek. Before you could run the next man comes forth, pulling his arm back before landing a punch on your cheek. Your face hangs to the side in reflex as your palm immediately meets your cheek, eyes wide as you wince in pain.

Before he could make another move, you use your fist to back hand the man’s face before landing a punch on his cheek with the same arm, his body wobbling back as he tries to keep balance. You shove him just as the third male comes to ambush you from the side, both of you landing painfully on the ground with you at the bottom. The puddle of water mixed with dirt and grime splashes as you thrash in his hold as he grasps your wrists and forces them next to your head, squeezing as you howl in agony.

Seeing an opening all the while your face is scrunched with fresh blood oozing down your cheek, you take the opportunity to knee the man’s midsection. His eyes widen as his grip loosens, mouth hanging open with a silent scream. You make eye contact before shoving him off of you. Before you can pick yourself up, the original man places the platform of his shoe on your stomach before pressing down hard. Your nails claw at his covered ankles as he glares down at you with a smirk.

“Oh? What is this?” You watch as the color drains from the man’s face. Your own eyes widen at the realization that you had just been caught.

Your head slowly turns to the side, your own eyes meeting two pairs of purple orbs. A certain mullet haired man tsked as he stood in place, flicking the cigarette butt from his fingers before lifting the black gun held by his other hand. A blaring shot echoed in the air, your eyelids met just in time before the red liquid could splatter in your eyes.

As a result, a weight was lifted off of your stomach as you opened your eyes, watching as the other two men had an expression of bewilderment, freezing in their spots as they watched the bloody corpse drop to the ground, pieces of the brain and skull lying all around the wet ground. You stare at the situation with wide eyes as you slowly sit up, leaning on your trembling arms as you watch both males take a step back with their hands in surrender.

“Come on boys, don’t cower on us now.” The tall man says, running his fingers through his short streaked hair, a sly smile on his face as his other hand holds the black umbrella both him and his brother stood under.

“Pathetic.” Rin states before he turns on his heel, slowly walking away from the scene, Ran follows alongside. They don’t give you another glance.

Escaping your trance, you went to jump up, only for your arms to be grabbed by the two men. You thrash as your feet lifts from the ground, your biceps slightly sliding against their wet hands as the rain continues pouring. You didn’t stop your struggle even when nearing the familiar black suv that caused your heart beat to accelerate. Sweat mixed with the droplets sliding against your forehead as the pressure in your chest became more prominent the closer you got to your entrapment. You pull your arms with all your might against the growling males’ holds, attempting to use your feet to kick them, only for them to dodge and grips tighten.

“Don’t do this.” You plead, bargaining for your freedom.

“We got no choice, lady.” The guy on your left responded.

“You have to have a wife or daughter or something, guys! Please!” Your eyes burn with moisture caused by frustration, your eyebrows furrow as you glance between the men who hold you.

“Shut up!” The guy on your right hissed. “We’re doing this to keep them safe. Your well being is worth nothing to us so just accept your fate.”

Your head hangs low as you’re dragged to the car, the tinted window rolling down as a blur of white reaches your peripheral, right before the men holding you halt in front of the vehicle. You hear footsteps before a tight grip reaches your chin, forcing you to meet golden eyes that seem to glow through the rainy night. A blonde strand hanging on the left side of his face, the rest of his black locks pulled back in a messy ponytail. His empty orbs bore into you as you seem to internally cower from the strange expression.

Your discomfort increases as time goes on, the sound of the rain hitting the pavement masking the silence as you continue to hold eye contact. The corners of his lips curve upward before you can comprehend his next move. The tight grip released on your left arm before you hear a thud against the ground. Your eyes widened as you eye the injured male, turning your gaze back to the man who gives a sheepish smile, rubbing his bruised knuckles as he chuckled.

“You really know how to make a guy angry, Y/n.” He scratched the back of his neck before looking to the side as his smile dropped. “Running off like that wasn’t cool.”

You scoff before shaking your head angrily. You couldn’t believe his deflecting. They treat you like a pet. It’s degrading and abusive. The lack of respect as close as they were before is disgusting. Before you could respond, the cocking of a gun snatched your attention away from the tiger tattooed male in front of you and towards a certain pink haired man who now stood outside of the car. The barrel of his gun aimed right at your torso, your body tightening as you lose your breath.

His scars stretch as he snarls shifting his aim quickly before pulling the trigger. A loud shot rings out, echoing throughout the empty street. Your breathing slows down as the pounding of your heart is the only sound you can hear, followed by a ringing in your ears as the final grip releases you to the ground. The water pellets fall on your face as you feel pressure on your front as you stare at the sky, a warm liquid forming under your torso as your lips hang slightly apart.

You barely hear the car doors opening as your hearing goes in and out, five figures hovering over you as they observe your figure. Crouching down closest to your face, the platinum haired male who gives you an expression of emptiness uses a hand to caress the left side of your face, thumb tracing your temple. He leans over, his warm breath connecting with your ear.

“If you won’t let me have you, death will.”

As your hearing comes back and vision clears you watch as the men with solemn gazes turn and leave your vicinity. Mikey pulls back before picking himself up and following his men. You listen as you hear footsteps fade and the car doors open and close. The engine roars before they speed away, leaving you on the wet street.

You were in slight shock considering you couldn’t believe you had just been shot. You knew they were capable of it but the thought of yourself being murdered is unsettling. You stay on the ground for a moment, relieving yourself of the panic attack you just had before you slowly sit up and eye your surroundings. Seeing nobody in the area, you look down and pull your shirt up, grabbing the busted sack that once held fake blood from your cushioned vest. Staring at the sack you took a deep breath before releasing.

This is perfect because now they think I’m dead.

Although you were surprised about the gunshot, you wore a bulletproof vest, along with the fake blood sacks since you had escaped because you knew that there was a chance you might die trying to leave them. Your hands couldn’t help the trembling as you eyed the bloody puddle under you. Seeming to escape the trance, you hopped up from your seat and began to walk in the opposite direction from where you came.

The car’s atmosphere was thick with tension and grief. Although all the men held the same stoic and zoned out expression, their emotions were going haywire with their decision to kill you. Do they regret it? No. They don’t regret it as your punishment nor as a blockage for you to be able to move on without them. Do they wish you had just listened so it wouldn’t come to this? Indeed. Kazutora wipes the stray tear as his head turns to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he leans back in his seat with crossed arms and a crossed leg. Sanzu slowly cleans the gun used to take your life, wiping in slow yet rough strokes, all the while trying to focus on everything but the memory of your body landing on the ground. Now that his anger was gone, he lacked the adrenaline he had originally.

The Haitani brothers sit next to each other in the back of the black suv, Ran smoking a cigar with a tired expression as well as Rin removing a flask from his suit’s jacket and throwing his head back for a good sip. Mikey sat in the passenger’s seat, eyeing through the windshield with nothing but an empty void filling the inside of his chest. He feels nothing and everything at the same time. You used to be so close to all of them. It was a shame but he knew that he couldn’t allow you to live without him. You chose this. This is your fault.

A sudden ringing interrupts everyone as Mikey grabs the phone and hands it to Kakucho who uses one hand to direct the wheel.

“Hello?”

“You what?!”

Everyone’s eyebrows furrow at his reaction. He lowers the phone before handing it to Mikey with a concerned expression. Mikey sets the phone on his ear as he listens to the other person.

“Boss, her body is gone. She’s nowhere to be found.” Kokonoi says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the busted sack. Using a gloved hand to pick it up before it hangs from his fingers and the remaining liquid leaks.

“I have a feeling she faked her death and has escaped.”

Mikey stares ahead with a more focused expression, his eyes slightly wider than usual as he narrows his gaze.

“Find her, now.”

You eye the two lines with wide eyes. Your hands tremble as your fingers barely hold up the test.

“I-I’m pregnant?!” You hiss. You hop from the toilet and slam open the stall door, tossing it into the trash before walking to the sink and recollecting your memory as you try to search for how this could’ve happened because you genuinely had no remembrance of any sexual encounter in the last few months.

“I-I can’t feel…” The tingling in your limbs causes them to limp as you attempt to move your body around, though hands around your wrists prevent you from budging. Legs sit in between yours as the person on top of you leans over to your ear.

“How much of a dosage did you give her this time, Sanzu?” Kazutora asks before he licks a slow trail from your neck to your ear. You squirm under him as you try to find an escape before your body slightly shuts down and you become still as your eyes become heavier.

“G-guys…” You whisper, trying to come back to reality as you feel him adjust on top of you. Your mouth hangs open in a silent grunt as you feel a firm pressure enter your vagina.

“Enough.” The blue eyed male responds while rubbing his thumb along your forehead, taking in your scrunched nosed expression as Kazutora slowly thrusts into you.

“Fuck.” He whispers as he pressed his cock against your cervix, holding it there as his hands snake to the back of your head and neck, squeezing before he pulls his hips back to repeat the same process.

You shut your eyes tight as the girth stretches you, a stinging sensation surrounding your core before your pussy engulfs his cock perfectly. The pain switched to a conflicting pleasure that your own drugged body couldn’t handle. Your head falls back as Sanzu leans over and pulls you into a heated kiss, while Kazutora holds you tightly, his head on the other side of your neck as he accelerates his pace, hips rocking in a steady rhythm purposefully aiming deep against your g-spot.

Ran watched the display to the side with his brother, enjoying the show as they patiently waited for their turn with Bonten’s signature doll. He man - spreads while sitting with his arms resting against the top of the sofa, one arm slightly behind Rin who has his arms crossed. Both brothers ignore their erections as their pants become tighter, listening to the sounds you make as well as the juices colliding.

Mikey sits in a chair, similar to a throne next to the sofa, eyeing the session with his legs spread, leaning over to where his arms rest on his legs. From this angle, you both make eye contact when Sanzu pulls back.

“P-please stop!” You whine out as tears fall, hoping for Mikey to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, the only response you get are Sanzu’s thumbs smearing your tears and groaning from Kazutora in your ear.

Suddenly, he stops his thrusting and pulls back. He sets your legs on his shoulders as he looks down at you with a glazed over expression, red covering his face along with sweat as he repositions himself before leaning over your thighs and thrusting hard. His pace accelerates once more as he brings you both closer to your release. His forehead rests on yours as he thrusts his hips rhythmically against you. His cock slides in and nearly out of your walls as the head kisses your g-spot repeatedly.

“You're taking his cock so well, sweet girl.” The pink haired male whispers against your ear before nibbling the lobe, his hand sliding on your chest towards your neck before circling his fingers around the surface and slightly squeezing. The stimulation becomes too much, the sensation overwhelming as it mixes with the effects of the drug. Your hips meet his deep thrusts as you cry out.

“So. *thrust* Fucking. *thrust* Good, baby.” Kazutora’s raspy soft spoken words meet your ear as his eyes bore into yours. Biting his lip, he watches as your hands meet his chest as his grip tightens on your legs, along with the thrusts forcing you into having a violent orgasm along with sending him into his own as he moans out your name and his hips move sloppily, riding out both of your orgasms as sweat drips from your skin.

Your hand shakily reached your mouth as you recall when they would drug you up and proceed with sexual acts against your will. You have no clue which of them would even be the father. You knew you had to figure something out but you just didn’t know what. You quickly leave the public restroom and ask to use the cashier’s phone. Once you dial the number, you set it to your ear.

“Draken? C-can you please help me?”

“Ugh, girl come here!” You sigh as you eye the mess left from the little devil.

“What is this?” You question your child, eyeing her golden eyes as you point at the red paint that spilled all over your carpet.

“U-uh, I don’t know mama.” The eight year old responds with a cheeky smile. You shake your head, irritated because of the mess but you breathe out a sigh considering the paint is washable and will be able to be cleaned.

“Yeah, okay. You’re gonna help me clean this up.” You shake your head as your daughter nods. You chuckle to yourself before stating, “And don’t try to lie to me anymore, I can see right through you.”

Your daughter shrugs before leaving to grab some of the supplies. You couldn’t believe how much she grew to look like Kazutora. It was haunting and hard to deal with at times but she had nothing to do with it so the love for your child was enough distraction from how she was created. Before you could follow and help her, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting anyone to have appeared so you ignore it.

Once the knocks stop, the ringing of your phone catches your attention. You snatch the device from your pocket and lift it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say to the unknown number.

“You have something of mine, and I’ve come to get it.” Before you could react, your windows were shattered as you crouched down and covered yourself. Immediately going into action, you run to the storage closet in the hallway to grab your child.

“Mama?” She cries out in surprise at the commotion.

“We have to go now!” You snatched her with one hand and pressed a contact with another.

“D-Draken! They broke i-!” Before you could finish, the phone was knocked out of your hand and you were forced to the ground, releasing your child in the process as she’s snatched by a person you hadn’t wanted to see.

“Awe, you really do have my eyes.” Kazutora says warmly with a smile as he holds your child in his arms, the poor girl crying in confusion and fear.

You're cuffed before you’re forced to stand up and face five of the men you never wanted to see.

“M-Mikey, please! She needs me! Don’t t-take her from me!” You yell in hopelessness, the tears falling uncontrollably as you watch Kazutora caress your daughter’s hair. The leader only stares down at you before turning on his heel and walking away, motioning for the other men to snatch you and follow.

“Wow, Y/n. You know, you really had us fooled.” Rin says as he grabs one arm. Ran stands on the other side and mimics his brother’s hold on the opposite arm.

“It’s silly really. We knew only an hour after you escaped and followed you up until this point.”

“You should be thanking the king for not killing you on the spot.” Sanzu growls with his head turned slightly back to make eye contact with you.

“On the bright side we can all be a family, now.” Kazutora beamed.

Truth be told though they would never say it out loud, they were all thankful that you hadn’t actually died. They found it humorous that you thought you could escape their radar at all. Now having been caught, you could only stare ahead, in hopes that if you comply, you could possibly come up with a plan to safely take your child and completely leave your past behind.

#yandere tokyo revengers #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #bonten #bonten x reader #bonten x you #yandere bonten #bonten trio #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #rin haitani #rin x reader #manjiro x reader #manjiro x you #kazutora x you #sanzu x you #ran x you #rin x you

[anditendshowyoudexpect]

idk as far as revenge goes this is pretty mid. he's too young and impatient and a show off, he should have waited until she got attached to him. he should have waited for her to have/adopt another kid. and then run them over. he should have waited for that kid to have kids of their own. and then run them over. where is villainy where is grandeur

#wonderful world #hey you go makjang i go makjangier #i get that it's harder to write more realistically #without it being boring #but this output is 90% empty flash and bang at best #with life lessons scattered in a few lines #i can't blame the genre #just write better goddammit #just fucking write better

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know multiple of these are likely important to people, but I'm asking in terms of like - which of these do you tend to focus on the MOST, enjoy the most, that is most essential for you to actually care about the media, etc.?

(For example: someone finding "Relatability" most important would likely not enjoy a show much if they have trouble empathizing with the characters/relating to it, even if it were good otherwise. Or, someone might be able to overlook bad acting and ugly costumes, as long as the Character Dynamics are fun to them, because they value that more than Aesthetics- while for others, bad costumes would be a dealbreaker.)

Also feel free to reblog and explain your answer or more information in the tags- I've always been curious about people's relationships to media, how they conceptualize it/what they get out of it, how some people value some parts more than others, how that informs their overall taste and genres they may be more inclined towards, etc. :0c

#I was having a conversation with a friend about our favorite type of media and they said the reason they DON'T like historical or fantasy #media or etc. is because they can't imagine themselves being in those situations like it's too detached from anything that they can relate #to personally. they put themselves in the shoes of the characters and apparently like feel emotions while watching stuff and actually #get into the way the characters are feeling so they kind of judge how 'good' or 'bad' a show's writing/setting/etc. are by how it makes #them feel and if they think the characters reacted realistically based on what they were feeling in the moment/what in their head they #would be feeling if they were in the postion of the character. SO apparently the distance of it being in an unrelatable setting or too #detached from our reality makes it harder for them to relate to and less able to really engage with it on that level. WHEREAS I watch #things exclusively in a very like.. detached way?? I'm INTERESTED.. it's like im intellectually analyzing everyhting that's happening and #can be intrigued by events but it's not in an emotional way? More of like a distant 'intellectual curiosity'. Maybe the premise or the #aesthetics or something about it has piqued an interest for me to observe it. to see what it's like or how it plays out. how the idea #is executed or etc. But like.. I cannot remember EVER really relating to any character or situation or projecting onto a character #or having those sorts of feelings or investment in it. That is just not a central part of why/how I watch things or what I care about #BUT after this I was thinking maybe this is my disconnect? I do not seem to conceptualize media the way some other people do and I often #walk away with an entirely different take on things. etc. So I wonder if maybe it's part of how everyone values different things probably? #maybe I literally just watch stuff and percieve it from a different frame of mind that others. More of a like detached curiosity #vaguely bemused analysis mode. Instead of a 'I am deeply emotionally invested in this and am feeling for all the characters' mode #And also I bet people who care more about plot/story are also the people who mind spoilers. Whereas for me I literally seek out spoilers #intentionally because that element of 'suprise ooh what will happen next!' is not central at all to my enjoyment. I could know literally #everything that will happen and still can find it interesting to observe - since for me #that's not the point. I'd rather know the ending so I can determine whether I want to invest the time in it in the first place. etc. #ANYWAY!! If I had to choose - I would say I'm usually heavily focused on world details and aesthetics. With only a slight preference #towards characters individually being interesting. Group dynamics can sometimes be okay but I get tired of everything being about relations #hips and romance - especially when sometimes it seems to be like. people who could not stand on their own as a character/are fundamentally #boring otherwise lol. I would watch a series of just one guy locked in a closet talking to himself as long as he was interesting and saying #things that were amusing or notable for some reason lol. I actually tend to dislike plot because most 'plot heavy' things like action focus #ed shows ALWAYS feel to me like they're moving so fast just to get from one thing to another that I'm not getting enough details. Part of #why I tend to not like movies. the time limit makes them too quick. I need a 95 hour expostion dump of the history of the entire world #and a series of 17 episodes straight where a guy is trapped in a room & the audience is just psychoanalyzing him. hghj.. Maybe I find all #characters annoying/unrelatable bc people w my personality type make bad characters/are not often represented (or are done BADLY). so then #I'm just picking 'who is the LEAST insufferable? who could i study like a lab rat?' whilst my main focus is the worldbuilding&costumes lol

[ao3commentoftheday]

things you can say instead of "I'm bad at writing" or "my writing sucks"

What's wrong with saying those things? First of all, you're insulting yourself and you don't deserve that ❤️ Second of all, those statements aren't going to get you any kind of reassurance in response. The only thing anyone can really say is "no, you're/it's not" - and that will almost certainly just sound patronizing to you when you're in a funk.

Focus in on your actual feelings and thoughts instead of dumping it all under the umbrella of "bad." Even if you're only talking to yourself, you'll get a better understanding of what's actually happening and a more realistic impression of yourself and your work.

I'm not satisfied with how this story turned out.

I feel like the ending is kind of weak on this one.

I'm feeling really uncertain about my characterization in this story

Is this plot too simple? I'm worried no one will bother reading it.

Is this plot too complex? I'm worried it's meandering and that my readers will get lost or bored.

Reading my own story doesn't give me the same sense of awe that I feel when I read [another author]'s story.

I don't think I achieved what I was aiming for with this story.

I'm worried no one will like this story, so I want to tear it down preemptively before anyone else can do so.

I'm worried I'm going to disappoint the people who liked [another story I wrote]

This story is really difficult to write. It's so much harder than I thought it would be / than my last story was!

I don't seem to write stories in the same way or with the same speed or length as other writers.

I feel like no one pays attention to my writing.

Feel free to add more examples in the notes. And please remember that you don't suck at writing and your writing isn't bad. You're just being your own harshest critic. ❤️

#I got out of bed for this one #because I'm so much faster typing on my laptop #than I am on my phone #and this post wouldn't shut up and let me sleep lol

[luxbub]

oooo can you do Virgin!reader with experienced Finnick?

a/n hii, thank you for the request, this was definitely the best thing to begin writing finnick with and it may not be the best thing youve read cause i’m still kinda figuring out his character, but i still hope you like it<3

also this is the longest smut i’ve ever written

virgin!reader and experienced Finnick

minors DNI +18

not proofread!!

So i kinda imagines this as a relationship between a mentor finick and tribute or victor reader, cause i feel like thats the most realistic one. I imagine that they would already be in a relationship, definitely said i love you’s already and are going for the next step. And even if you’re moving slow and want to take your time, i think that finnick would understand especially having in mind what he snow made him do, he definitely understands where you come from and why you want to take your time.

At first it was just an innocent make out session. You were sprawled out on finnick’s lap, with your thighs on either side of his, as he held an iron grip on the fat of your hips. Your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging from time to time, causing soft whimpers to tumble from his lips.

Now Finnick knew that you were a virgin since the beginning of your relationship , it was obvious by the way you were messily humping his thigh. But the self control was getting harder and harder to keep. Your sweet whimpers he swallowed, your soft whines anytime that he disconnected from your lips.

It was obsessive, the way Finnick couldn’t stop thinking about you, your scent, your touch, your pussy.

The pussy that he could feel throbbing even through the thick material of his pants and your panties.

He started kissing his way down to your throat, nipping at the spot just below your ear, making you moan and tug at the already gripped strands of hair.

You were whispering his name, begging him to touch you, the friction from his jean-clad thigh wasn’t enough for your achy cunt. Finnick’s pupils were blown from focusing so hard on the little mewls you made as your grinding became more desperate.

Finnick slid one hand down to your crotch as his fingers danced along the lacy line of your panties. He pushed his way into your cunt as you squirmed at the feeling of his cold fingertips on your hardened clit.

“You sure you want that, sweetheart?” You responded with a nod, too busy taking in the bliss from the little friction his hand was giving you. “I need to hear you say it.”

You almost screamed “y-yes, i want to feel you, finnick.”, looking at his smug face. Your eyes were starting to fill with tears from the pressure he was putting on your clit.

Your head is thrown back, spft moan spilling from your lips, as finick continues oushing his fingers in and out of you.

It came too soon, too fast. Your orgasm came, before you could latch onto finnick’s hand and beg him for more, his mouth was clashing into yours, tongues intertwined as you started unbuckling his belt the best you could without looking.

Soon enough both of you were panting as Finnick looked at your eyes searching for a hint of doubt, finding only pleasure and reassurance. So he guides his cock between your lips and bottoms out with a single thrust.

The feeling of your maidenhood breaking makes more tears well-up in your eyes as Finnick freezes asking if you’re sure you wanna keep going, but you only nod, knowing that you’ve been ready to take Finnick for weeks now.

Finnick groans, leaning his head onto your shoulder, your cunt was too much, too tight, he doubted he would last much longer if you continued squeezing him like that.

He softly starts thrusting more steadily as the pain turns into a pleasure and soon enough both of you are trying to shuffle each other’s moans.

Your breathing turns shallow, sharp breaths coming out of your mouths as your eyes don’t dare to leave each other. Finnick watches the way you squeeze your eyes or furrow your brows when he delivers a bit too hard of a thrust, but he presses his lips to yours, soothing you.

Your walls are fluttering around his dick as his starts hutting your cervix a bit too fast, going in so deep you never thought anyone could reach, but there he was Finnick Odair, stealing your breath with every thrust as you could feel your second orgasm coming closer and closer.

You were babbling, spit, that you didn’t know if it was yours or Finnick’s was coming out of your mouth “I—“ .

“I know, baby, me too.” His hips shutter for a second and that was enough to make your legs twitch and your vision cloud as you came around his dick.

Your walls squeeze him for one last time, before he grunts, clenching his teeth, as he pulls out, spruting tick ropes of white all over your stomach.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick fanfic #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #finnick odair #finnick smut #finnick odair smut #finnick drabble #finnick odair drabble #finnick blurb #finnick odair blurb #hunger games smut #hunger games x reader #hunger games blurb #thg smut #thg fanfiction #thg x reader #the hunger games x reader #🫧bubbles writes

[iraprince]

i can't really afford to leave here. twitter used to be my main haunt — it's slowed down to a terrifying degree, to the point where i've felt immensely relieved that i never abandoned tumblr. despite mostly equal follower counts (though who knows how many are bots, on both sites), my stuff now gets like... easily 2-4x the traction on here as on twitter. and when i talk abt traction/engagement, please know i'm not talking about "my feelings get hurt if i don't get likes :(" i'm talking about like. ppl seeing my art, and especially seeing announcements about projects i'm working on etc, is how i get jobs and make enough money to support myself. including people who ALREADY FOLLOW ME and WANT to see the art, which is what has specifically been scuttled on twitter

but now, uh, lol. are we just going to keep getting kind of juggled back and forth between two slowly dying sites

i have a cohost that i haven't set up yet. i have a bluesky that i'm struggling to remember to use. it's already hard to keep up social media and realistically i don't think i can seamlessly just add two more on top, and like i said above i can't afford to abandon the existing audiences i've built up on tumblr and twitter, where all my work comes from, and Hope that enough ppl are going to follow me to new sites for me to keep going

i want to make a personal website. i want to make a mailing list/monthly newsletter. i should have been working harder on those things, we've been seeing the writing on the wall for years. but i am at the limits of my energy and ability just doing enough to make a living every day no matter how casual i am about it and the fact that all of this hard work can be destroyed just by websites deciding to blow themselves up is extremely exhausting

idk. i don't want to end this on a totally miserable note. thank you for being here and for supporting the artists you follow as everyone repeatedly tries to destroy our livelihoods, genuinely

[python333]

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.” 

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago. 

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late. 

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath. 

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left. 

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?” 

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening. 

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind. 

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me? 

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece. 

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking. 

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?” 

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment. 

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?” 

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you. 

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—” 

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.” 

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath. 

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again. 

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—” 

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear. 

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it. 

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.” 

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?” 

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?” 

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?” 

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.” 

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?” 

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.” 

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?” 

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?” 

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.” 

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?” 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?” 

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—” 

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too. 

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet. 

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?” 

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed. 

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…” 

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.” 

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.” 

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth. 

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?” 

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…” 

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.” 

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away. 

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before. 

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed. 

— 

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates. 

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows. 

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you. 

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly. 

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well. 

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one. 

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head. 

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more. 

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back. 

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.” 

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—” 

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together. 

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?” 

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin. 

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit. 

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.” 

“You had the right to.” 

“Sure I did.” 

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.” 

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.” 

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

#sorry that its kinda short #i started it at 12 am and nows its 3 :< #i write slow ok #and i was watching d:bh playthroughs at the same time #its not my faukt #anyway #TAGGING SPEEDRUN #cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #tf141 #captain john price #john soap mactavish #platonic taskforce141 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #platonic task force 141 #platonic task force 141 x reader #platonic cod #price #soap #ghost #gaz #they arent in this but im tagging them anyway #:3 #hurt/comfort #angst

[xo-cod]

Hi Lia! I was wondering if you could write something with Simon? I love the way you write him :) Maybe something with his nightmare and he needs the reader? 🤗

ah thank you baby! <33 i saw nightmare and just kinda wrote whatever :")

it might be ooc but i tried 😩 hope you enjoy! 🤍

anchor

it was just past 2am when simon woke up in cold sweats. gasps flying out of his mouth, his hands tangled in the bed sheets, perspiration glistening on his skin. they were getting bad again, the nightmares were becoming more consistent, more realistic and usually he would've been able to deal with them by himself.

it was just a bad dream, he tried to calm himself down but it doesn't work like usual. he's too panicked to think properly, no, he needs something.

someone

in his frenzied state however, simon doesn't feel you beside him and the familiar lump crawls to his throat. no, he couldn't have been imagining all those sweet memories could he?

had you left him, figuring his baggage was not worth staying around for? had someone taken you, killing you in the same brutal way his mother and his brother had been taken? did he imagine all those cherished moments he held so near and dear to his heart? every horrible situation his mind could possibly conjure up runs through his head and simon has no choice but to let each one play out. the tears were getting harder to hold back now, his head was in his hands begging his mind to stop.

before he could even hoarsely call out your name, you had turned in your sleep right next to him. relief practically floods in his veins and he dives closer to you with shuttered breaths. the tears were falling freely, like a barricade had broken inside of him.

"y/n, oh my lovie-" he babbled out snuggling deep into your neck, trying to calm his racing heart. usually he would never disrupt you but tonight he's not himself. his mind was cruel, unsure of what was real and what isn't. everything was unravelling and he begins to feel himself become undone along with it.

but all he knew, with surety lodged deep in his heart, was that you were his anchor in this turbulent treacherous sea. you were the thing keeping him grounded no matter where he was

you awoke in slight shock, confused on the pressure around your body. but the sleep disappears when you see the behemoth that was your boyfriend wrapped so tightly around you like a lifeline. it's not like him to be so terrified, to be so vulnerable and you worry for a second if something terrible had happen. but you take a breath, holding him as close as you can.

a nightmare, you deduce.

"bad dream?" you mumble into his soft hair, gently stroking his face. you feel his tears fall against your chest and it breaks your heart piece by piece. he nods into you and you give a kiss to his head, leaning a little back so you could see him clearly.

he's like a little boy in your arms and you want to hold him so tight until nothing bad could ever hurt him again. you didn't know the true extent of his pain, he hadn't told you everything but you knew it whatever it was completely had destroyed him.

"i-i'm sorry, i-" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, cursing at himself to have it together. these dreams never usually affected him this much and he was always good at having his feelings under control but tonight it was brutal.

he could feel your lifeless body, how his throat was raw screaming your name over and over, the tears that burned and blurred his vision, the crushing weight of losing you like everything good in his life had to come to an abrupt end.

you hold his sweet face between your hands, pressing your lips to his forehead for a tender kiss. the soft pads of your thumbs sweep the apples of his cheeks, a reassuring a smile pulled on your lips.

"go back to sleep, si. i'll be here. i'll always be here" you promised softly, laying the two of you back down on the bed again. he doesn't have the energy to say a word, his silence is all the answer you need. so he sleeps securely in your arms, the exhaustion taking him and you hold him close. running your fingers in his hair, your heartbeat a steady reminder in his ears that you were well and truly okay.

while he fought the demons during the day, you did your part and keep them well away at night

#asks #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley x reader fluff

[ze0re]

can you make a fic about choso fucking you in a scream mask for halloween it would mean so much i literally love your stories 😭🙏🏽

❝ 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 ! ❞ － 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊. 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓

⇨⚠︎︎ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 !¡⚠︎︎⇦ mask kink, knife play, rough sex, degradation?, top!choso, bottom!reader, black!reader

𝐀𝐍. SOOOO SOOOO SORRY THIS IS LATE, I’ve been working a lot and writing a lot so I just needed a tiny break but i am back now! I was meant for this to get done ON halloween but I didn’t have enough energy to do so but pretend this is on Halloween, BUT IM SO GLAD YOU LOVE MY STORIES 😙 enjoy my spooky ghost 👻.

𝐮𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬!! - once I hit 1,000 followers I will do a face reveal In one of stories 🙈, I will not be writing smut for awhile and gonna start writing more fluffy stories and maybe angst. LASTLY, the racer series will continue back up again but not till either December or January. THATS ALL!

WARNING IMPORTANT MESSAGE AT THE END OF STORY!!!.

— 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

When you told Choso about the idea he thought you went crazy. He knew your love for horror movies especially the Scream series, so does this surprise him? Kind of! But realistically no. It was obvious that you had a mask kink by the way you would giggle and kick your feet every-time Ghostface came onto screen ಠ_ಠ. So when you came to him about the Idea he was shocked at first but decided to desire your dirty little fantasies of him fucking you with the scream mask.

It’s been a good awhile since you came to Choso about the Idea, wondering when the day he would do It and well…he decided to do it halloween night. Honestly you’re a forgettable person so you forgot you even came to Choso about the Idea! Till he came out of nowhere behind you covering your mouth with a very sharp knife to your neck. Your eyes widened thinking It was someone robbing you till you felt those familiar muscles flex behind you, calming down a bit, you huffed but soon gasped feeling him pull your head back more against chest with the knife pressed up against your neck, not enough to hurt you of course but enough to make you intimidated. Your hands clenched around his bigger arms feeling his bulge press against your ass just aching to get released, you moaned softly into his hand feeling him buck against you, Choso had a small blush on his cheeks but luckily the mask covered it all giving him an advantage to do anything to you without your teasing.

“You like this?.” He whispered deep into your ear feeling you nod against his chest, but that wasn’t an answer. He groaned a bit pressing the knife against your throat a little harder with a tsk, “That’s not an answer baby..” Your eyes went wide feeling the tiny blades scratch against your neck whimpering from the hold he had on you, “Yes.” Your small little yes was muffled from his hand but he heard it, smirking underneath his mask. He kept a firm hold against you still having a tight hold on you. He hummed trailing the knife across your neck, “What should I do with you, huh?” He questioned tilting his head a little looking at you through the mask, “Should I make you beg for it? Scream for it?.” Your legs were getting weaker and weaker by the minute he kept whispering into your ear, you didn’t think he would take the role this seriously but you’re loving it..you couldn’t say a word except grumble into his hand, Choso smirked underneath the mask, “Hmmm..I have a better Idea.”

“I wanna hear you scream.”

And that’s what exactly what he did. The minute he dropped the knife, and dragging you to your guys shared room was the moment you realized you’re gonna lose walking privileges, when he threw you onto the bed he looked down at you like he was stalking..hunting. It scared you bit especially knowing his height. His height and muscles put everything together making him more intimidating than he already was, you moved up the bed as he moved closer stopping you Into your tracks as he gripped your ankles dragging you down the bed making you squeal. To make this more interesting, you fought against him kicking your legs to get out of his hold but the weight on your ankles increased practically pinning you to the bed. Choso took this as an advantage to crawl onto the bed getting on top of you, you looked so fucking cute underneath him.

By the way he was tilting his head you knew he had that cocky grin on his face. You moved your thighs together to get pleasure on your lower area, It’s been aching ever since you felt his bulge on your butt. You were soaking through your panties and you know Choso knew that too, he looked down to see you rubbing your legs together continuing to make eye contact with him with a bitten lip. Fuck. He clicked his tongue with a low hum trailing his hand to your pj pants putting his hand inside without a care in the world using his middle finger to feel how wet you are, you twitched feeling the single finger rub against your clit, moaning from the pleasure. Choso chuckled keeping his eyes on you as he continued to rub your clit nice and slow, you were already so wet. Choso staring at you with the scream mask on turned you on even more, your little mask kink was putting you to work.

Your back arched off the bed a little feeling him slide his middle inside you starting to thrust slowly. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, bucking your hips up against his finger, you whined. “I want more..please give me more.” Choso tilted his head at your widening with a small smirk, he loved the feeling of making you whine for more, “More? You sure you want more?” He asked and without hesitation you nodded your head not thinking about the consequences. Once he saw the nod of approval he removed his finger from your pussy, instantly ripping off your pants to expose your lower area, without a doubt he went to unbuckle his belt letting his pants drop to the floor along with his boxers taking his cock into his hand stroking it slowly, lining it up with your hole, he cursed underneath his breath feeling how warm you were as he slid into you.

“Fuck..” He mumbled thrusting at a slow pace to let you get used to it, Choso was a big guy which meant..his cock was also big making you hiss slightly feeling him slide himself all the way In. After a few seconds he started to thrust at a steady pace soon picking the pace up, gripping your hips Into his hands feeling how tight you were getting. Moans and skin slapping were the only things being heard throughout the room, by the way Choso kept looking down at you with the mask was gonna make you cum instantly. Your nails digged deep into the covers feeling his thrusts get more harsher and deeper making tears prick in the corner of your eyes, Choso tooo notice if this smirking behind the mask as he continued to slam his hips against yours, “You like this? You like getting turned on by a mask?.” He panted with a weary chuckle seeing how much of a mess you were becoming underneath him, you could barely keep your eyes open as you stared at up at him. The look you were giving him made himself go hard, growling as he thrusts harder and deeper, your eyes snapped open as more tears pricked in the corner of your eyes feeling him pick up the pace, “W-Wait!- Choso-.” You couldn’t finish your sentence before a loud moan interrupted feeling your knot start to form, the pleasure was turning into pain but It was good pain.

Choso didn’t care about your whines or begs for him to stop, he continued to thrust deeper and harder also feeling his knot, “M’finna cum..fuck. Is this what you wanted? Huh?.” He said breathlessly throwing his head back letting a moan fall, “Finna fucking breed you baby..oh f-fuck.” He groaned deeply feeling his orgasm hit filling you deep with his cum soon after hitting your own orgasm, you moaned loudly letting your eyes flutter close twitching from still feeling him cum inside you. After a few seconds and slow thrusts he pulled out, taking off the mask to look at you with a soft look, “Did I go too rough?” He asked , with a small chuckle you shook your head tiredly reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer to your face, “It was just how I imagined.” You replied, Choso sighed in relief leaning more into your touch, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Little freak.”

PLEASE READ!!

So I have recently discovered a very hateful message on my dashboard with one of my stories and I wanna say this is NOT okay. If anyone has a problem with me writing ONLY black readers please keep it to yourself, I’m not gonna show the screenshot because It’s really sickening and disgusting but please, I don’t want my tumblr space to be full of hate or rude comments. I want my community to feel more included In fanfics since there’s not that many which is WHY i’m only writing black readers, again my space is for anyone but PLEASE don’t say hurtful things.

#⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒁𝒆𝒓𝒐 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔 !¡ ✫彡 #jujustu kaisen #{ 🖋️} writings #black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #smut #jjk x black reader #jjk season 2 #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu choso #choso x black!reader #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader

[loaksky]

— 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴

the lowdown — the one where you’re madly in love but ao’nung doesn’t want a thing to do with you. 

the who — ao’nung x fem metkayina!reader 

the word count — 2.1k

the tags & warnings — language, angst, ao’nung is an asshole when his friends are around, all around shitshow lol, unrequited love

the notes — based on this request! was really excited to write more for ao’nung ! this probably won’t have a part 2 because i like the idea of leaving the ending open, so it’s up to you guys if ao’nung and reader end up together aheh. 

masterlist

You should’ve known better. Should’ve known better than to love harder than your fragile heart could take. Because now you’re hurting far more than you prepared for and the object of your affections is the cause of it all. 

Ao’nung had a way of brushing you off, of putting as much distance as he could between the two of you. And you’d run regardless, cross as much of that stretch if it meant a chance at capturing his heart. You were shameless, persistent, sweet on the boy who wouldn’t even bat an eye at you. 

Because at one point he had, when you two were little warriors growing into yourselves. But you can’t trace when things had soured, couldn’t understand why your heart grew fonder while your friendship fizzled like dissolving seafoam. 

“Look what I found,” you’d coo excitedly during excursions you’d tag along to, remnants of a scrounged shell thrust triumphantly in the air. 

You all hadn’t become teenagers yet, teetering over the fine line of figuring out what was blossoming in your heart. 

His friends couldn’t be bothered to hide their laughter, jostling the leader’s son as you swam nearer to close the fragment in his palm. It was like you were giving him pieces of yourself, happily, willingly.

It took you too long, his friends would argue, to realize that he was letting the fractals fall to the seabed once you turned your attention to something else, to anything bigger and better to signify the beating of your heart to him. 

When you had successfully completed your rite, had crawled from under your parents’ worried thumb, had started to become a woman, you pressed further. 

“Wanna go for a swim?” you’d ask him right after eclipse and the waters would glow something fierce. Almost as if the ocean was cheering you on. 

“Nope.” The answer’s always spoken without second thought, scoff following shortly after. 

And you’d hear him from your family’s marui, splashing and laughing with his friends late into the evening, a dull ache in your chest at being rebuffed so easily when all you wanted was to be seen by him. 

And it’d been like that for a while, chasing chasing chasing like you had the stamina of every little thing to grace the face of the moon, but he was always so out of reach. 

“He’ll come around,” the elder who’d taken you under her wing had said one evening when the cracks were becoming too much. 

“Hope so,” you whispered, watching as the stars twinkled something fierce against swathes of blue.

The final fissure was humiliating, made your cheeks burn unbearably. 

As a young woman, ready to spend forever, you’d gathered what was left of your courage. Had taken the plunge, and with your heart in your hands, you told him. 

“Since we were kids,” you say shakily. “It’s always been you.” 

Frankly, you catch him off guard. He didn’t think you had it in you, didn’t think you’d be able to get over your little crush and finally say something, but here you both are, standing a little ways from where his friends are watching with razor sharp eyes and pricked ears. 

Ao’nung doesn’t know what to say, watching as you fumble with something in your little bag. 

You continue, his silence making way for bubbling words. 

“You’re the only person I could ever see myself–” 

The laugh he scoffs out sends his friends tittering in the distance and the first crack is deadly. 

“Be realistic,” he says flatly. 

You try to mask the hurt that eclipses your features, a semblance of hope dancing in your chest that maybe he’d tell you he’s playing a cruel joke. That of course he sees you, of course he’d be with you. That after all these years of you chasing him, wanting him, loving him, he’d learned to do the same. 

“Did you really–” He can barely contain his amusement. “Did you really think I’d reciprocate?” 

“I- I mean–” you suck in a deep breath, throat thick with tears as you fiddle with the tie you’d made for his hair, corded with fragments of buffed shells and sanded beads. 

His eyes flit to your fidgeting and a protest dies on your tongue when he snatches it from your grasp and turns the dinky little thing over in his wide palms. 

“What’s this?” he asks. 

Fuck, you’re beyond embarrassed, breaths stuttering as the corner of your mouth twitches into a frown. 

You didn’t think Ao’nung could be this heartless. Thought that he’d be curt, quick when it came to turning you down, but this feels like an eternity and you want to disintegrate. 

“This supposed to be for me?” he snorts, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger like he can’t stand to hold it. 

“Yeah,” you whisper brokenly, after a moment of silence. “Made it for you.” 

“Yeah, no thanks,” he chuffs, and you’re scrambling to catch it before it hits the sand. 

You look up at him from where you kneel, eyes blurring as he stares down at you in contempt, like he can’t stomach the thought of you being in love with him. 

“You’d offer nothing to this village,” he says spitefully. “To any man. Don’t be ridiculous.” 

He leaves you there, kicking up sand as he rejoins his howling circle of friends. 

How pathetic, you hear them whisper. The olo’eyktan’s son, really? 

When you’re alone, when you hear them splashing through the waters like they hadn’t just shattered your heart, you shred the tie.

“You are unkind, Ao’nung,” Tsireya tells him a few eclipses later. 

His eyes swing from his catch, eyebrows furrowed. 

“What are you on about?” he asks flatly. 

“________,” she says simply, like he should know his atrocity. 

And maybe he does. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that night since. He’d barely given you a second thought all these years, but when he and his friends had returned the way they left you, he’d seen the tattered remains of the ocean weeds nearby. Seen the beads and shells from the tie scattered among the loam. They’d been smeared red. 

Had he been too harsh? Been too unforgiving under the gaze of his expectant friends? You’d always been easy to pick and prod, so soft and unrelenting in the way you pursued him. But that night, something had shifted. He’d felt it so, didn’t realize that others did too. 

After a moment too long in his head, all he manages is a shrug. 

“How would mother and father feel?” she asks, obviously far more annoyed with how flippant he is about the situation. 

“Why would they care?” he bites. “She’s a nobody.” 

The look his sister gives him makes his heart stutter and his stomach twist. 

“She is kind,” Tsireya says softly. “She is compassionate, skilled, strong. Her lack of status means nothing to mother and father if she is capable of leading with heart.” 

When he is silent, she continues. 

“You let your friends cloud your judgment,” she says. “You know better than anyone what’s right.” 

His throat bobs. 

“Apologize, Ao’nung,” she says fiercely. 

Ao’nung’s never had to search for you. You’d always been there, even when you were on the perimeter, waiting. But now it’s like you’re a mere thought that refuses to solidify. 

“Have you–” He scratches the back of his head. “Have you seen ________?” 

The elder you spent much of your time training under merely blinks at him. Tells him that she hasn’t seen much of you lately and he simply nods, bowing his head before taking his leave. 

It frustrates him, makes him want to scrap this entire endeavor, but his sister’s words are etched into his mind and the bits and pieces of the tie you’d made him weighs heavy in a small pouch tied around the band of his loincloth. 

He stumbles upon you purely by accident, near the edge of the reef. You’re all alone, a ball of weeds near as you weave quietly. It’s his chance, he realizes, just the two of you with no prying eyes and no pricked ears. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when his fingers close over your shoulder. 

Your expression softens and hardens in a matter of moments, standing so quickly you accidentally kick sand up into Ao’nung’s face. He splutters as he reaches blindly for you. 

“Wait, wait,” he pleads. “Don’t go–” 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hiss, lip trembling as you grab your materials quickly.

He shouldn’t be stunned. Shouldn’t be surprised that you’re upset, but he can’t help it. Not when you’ve been nothing but sweet to him, when all you’ve wanted was to be seen by him. 

He murmurs your name quietly, blinking quickly as he knuckles away the particulates in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to see you again, Ao’nung,” you hiss.

The words pierce him, brands him like hot iron when he sees clearly enough to make out the hurt painted all over your face. 

He’s after you in his next breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “I- I-” 

You deflect his reaching hands, shaking your head vehemently when he moves to take another step towards you. 

“I have loved you since before I even knew what love was,” you choke, unable to get a handle on all the emotions swarming beneath the surface. “All I have ever wanted was to love you and be loved by you, but all I receive in return is humiliation. Hurt.” 

You wipe the tears away angrily and Ao’nung is frozen as he watches you unravel, bears witness to every sentiment that you’ve kept a tight grip on. 

“So, no, Ao’nung, I’m sorry,” you spit, face aching as you shudder through your declaration. “I wish I could go back and tell myself that I was being fucking stupid for wanting you.” 

He flinches and you take one last look at him, like you’re committing him to an infalliable memory. 

Time lapses, no matter how long he yearns for it not to. 

Nights bleed into days, into weeks, into months, and you aren’t letting up. The taste of his own medicine is bitter, deserved, when he seeks you out at every turn and all you do is widen the gap. 

His agony is silent, consuming as he watches you grow from afar, sees what a wonderful woman you’ve become. Not that you hadn’t been before, but now he beholds you in all your glory and he is gutted. 

You are every bit the definition of incredible, makes something visceral claw at him every passing moment both near and far. Because you’re healing, moving past such an awful suffering being bound to Ao’nung by what was once your desperate heart. 

“This is your own doing,” Tsireya tells him one night, when the sting burns especially so. 

He can’t help but watch you across the fire, the way you smile at one of your friends gently. Can’t even bring himself to retort something snarky to his younger sister. 

Your eyes meet his from across the way, smile leaving your lips when you find his gaze already on you, and his heart sinks. 

Your parents have arranged your union with someone else, he hears. 

“Pity the poor soul,” one of his friends scoff when the whispers finally reach his circle. “Forever with her sounds like–” 

Ao’nung doesn’t know why, but it feels so right with his fist coated in his friend’s blood. Something like sick satisfaction curling through his veins when he clutches his nose in horror and asks what the fuck is wrong with him. 

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, your time, but he’s mapped the course to your family’s marui well enough and he’s rushing down the woven path. 

Your suitor looks happy, triumphant, as he stands before you and your family. 

It should be me, is the only thought that crosses his brain as he sees the way you shift in stance, the smile not quite reaching your eyes. And you clock him before he can draw nearer, eyes glazing over with tears before you let out a deep sigh. 

“Ao’nung,” your parents greet cordially, clearly unaware of the chaos brewing between the two of you the past few months. 

“Don’t be rude, Maite, say hello,” your mother prods after a moment of awkward silence. 

You bite the inside of your lip, toes curling as you give Ao��nung a curt nod. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” your father asks, turning all of the attention over to the olo’eyktan’s son. 

It’s his last shot at the two of you, at being able to make you his. His friends weren’t forever, but you were. 

His shoulders square and he steels his nerves, eyes never leaving yours as he speaks. 

“I’ve–” He takes a shuddering breath. “I’ve come to ask for her hand.” 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @neteyamo , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @theycallmesia , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon , @sanfransolomitatm , @lovedbychoi

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung imagine #ao'nung fic #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #atwow

[restinslices]

If Bi-Han Was A Sub

Let it be known I'm a Virgin. I'm Bisexual and Bi-myself. I get no bitches. Absolutely zero play. So take everything I say with a grain of salt.  No pronouns used. Mentions of sex from behind but that could be a dick or a strap on. Whatever fits your fantasy. And obviously MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SCHOOL IS IN SESSION. READ A BOOK.

I know the chances of Bi-Han being a sub are pretty low. I get that. I understand why people write him as a Dom… but if he wasn't-

I don't think he would come out and say this is what he wanted. Most likely it just kinda happened? You guys just kept having sex and you noticed he let you take the reins, and you just kept seeing how much you could get away with. 

When you do eventually bring this up he's like "what are you talking about? I'm not a fucking sub". Sir- 

I feel like you'd keep the same position and role, but it wouldn't actually have a label. It'd take awhile for him to actually say he takes the submissive role. 

I also don't think he'd make initiating sex a big deal. Some people try really hard to seduce their partner and I can see him just coming up to you and saying "I want you". 

Having this big man under you and listening to everything you say though? Heavenly. 

That's a fucking lie. Why? He's stubborn and disobedient 

Kuai Liang gives ready to serve, this MF gives off ready to get on your nerves 

What's wild is that he does this shit on purpose. 

This the same guy who keeps reminding Tomas he's an orphan. Trust me, this bitch is petty. Unnecessarily so. 

I feel like he'd do shit to piss you off because A) he's petty. B) he likes seeing you pissed off. And C) he's into punishments. 

We can all tell this man is not fragile. So roughhousing is definitely encouraged and appreciated. Realistically, there's a good chance he's stronger than you and could just flip shit if he wanted, but he doesn't. Honestly though, in my head that would add to the fun for both of you. The fact he could physically stop all this, but chooses not to. 

This concept would especially get milked if he was being punished. 

He would start mouthing off and you'd be like "if you hate this so much, why not stop me? You're strong enough to". He'd have no real response because he had no legitimate reason. 

"You know what I think? I think the Grandmaster is just like every other man; a slut who needs to be put in his place". 

However, if there is something he doesn't like, he has no problem with telling you. You wouldn't have to worry about secretly hurting him or making him feel like shit because he'd let you know immediately if you were taking it too far. Obviously you'd apologize, and he'd just tell you to make sure it didn't happen again. 

Things I'd think he'd be into is impact play, rough sex, dirty talk, restraints, temp play, overstimulation, masochism, and probably some more shit I can't think of. I feel like his kink list is like when someone pulls out a small scroll, then it turns out that bitch is long and hits the floor. I feel like he'd also enjoy humiliation to an extent. He doesn't want to be embarrassed in public, but if you made him beat off in front of a mirror while you watched, he wouldn't be against it. 

Idk why but he really gives me "hit me harder vibes". You'll think you're hitting him hard but then he'd ask you to hit him harder. 

"Harder" probably explains his entire vibe. He pisses you off to make your life harder. He wants you to hit him harder. Be harder on him when he breaks a rule. Fuck him harder. Just be harder. He's not easily breakable. He can handle it. 

I just really feel like he enjoys rough sex from behind. Probably finds that shit relaxing. 

I feel like the punishment he'd absolutely hate would be orgasm denial. One night is already tough but when you won't let him cum for an extended amount of time? Torture. 

He gives off the vibes of someone who wants constant sex, so cutting him off would be hard. I feel like this is the only rule he for sure wouldn't break because he knows you'd just reset the amount of days he can't cum for. 

Aftercare with him would probably be difficult because he wouldn't say what he needed. He's good at telling you when he's uncomfortable with something, but isn't good at saying exactly what he wants when you're done. He's just not used to being pampered and thinks asking you to do things like cuddle with him is embarrassing. 

It's obviously not though, so you make sure to take care of him. 

He appreciates it, even if he won't say he does. 

He makes sure to care for you as well. He's an asshole but he's not that big of an asshole. If you're warm from all the moving, he'd cool you down. He'd probably try to get up to run you a bath and you're like "sit the fuck down". 

Probably enjoys silence afterwards. I don't mean he doesn't wanna hear you or he wants to pretend you don't exist. He just enjoys feeling your presence there and the sound of whatever is outside. 

An afterthought I just had. Bi-Han grunts, Kuai Liang moans loudly, Tomas probably whines. 

I know I should be writing Liar pt 2, and I am. Unfortunately the voices have taken over so this came out first. Might make another part, maybe a short Drabble. Idk. I do know that I will make one of these for Kuai Liang and Tomas.

#bi han #bi han x reader #subzero #Subzero x reader #Bi han mk1 #Bi han smut #subzero smut #Sub subzero #Sub bi han #Mk1smut #mortal kombat smut #sub character #Fact he ain’t real is some bullshit because I need him #Mdni

[i-love-your-light]

too many thoughts on the new hbomberguy video not to put them anywhere so:

with every app trying to turn into the clock app these days by feeding you endless short form content, *how many* pieces of misinformation does the average person consume day to day?? thinking a lot about how tons of people on social media go largely unquestioned about the information they provide just because they speak confidently into the camera. if you're scrolling through hundreds of pieces of content a day, how many are you realistically going to have the time and will to check? i think there's an unfortunate subconscious bias in liberal and leftist spaces that misinformation is something that is done only by the right, but it's a bipartisan issue babey. everybody's got their own agendas, even if they're on "your side". *insert you are not immune to propaganda garfield meme*

and speaking of fact checking, can't help but think about how much the current state of search engines Sucks So Bad right now. not that this excuses ANY of the misinformation at all, but i think it provides further context as to why these things become so prevalent in creators who become quick-turnaround-content-farms and cut corners when it comes to researching. when i was in high school and learning how to research and cite sources, google was a whole different landscape that was relatively easy to navigate. nowadays a search might give you an ad, a fake news article, somebody's random blog, a quora question, and another ad before actually giving you a relevant verifiable source. i was googling a question about 1920s technology the other day (for a fanfiction im writing lmao) and the VERY FIRST RESULT google gave me was some random fifth grader's school assignment on the topic???? like?????? WHAT????? it just makes it even harder for people to fact-check misinformation too.

going off the point of cutting corners when it comes to creating content, i can't help but think about capitalism's looming influence over all of this too. again, not as an excuse at all but just as further environmental context (because i really believe the takeaway shouldn't be "wow look how bad this one individual guy is" but rather "wow this is one specific example of a much larger systemic issue that is more pervasive than we realize"). a natural consequence of the inhumanity of capitalism is that people feel as if they have to step on or over eachother to get to 'the top'. if everybody is on this individualistic american dream race to success, everyone else around you just looks like collateral. of course then you're going to take shortcuts, and you're going to swindle labor and intellectual property from others, because your primary motivation is accruing capital (financial or social) over ethics or actual labor.

i've been thinking about this in relation to AI as well, and the notion that some people want to Be Artists without Doing Art. they want to Have Done Art but not labor through the process. to present something shiny to the world and benefit off of it. they don't want to go through the actual process of creating, they just want a product. Easy money. Winning the game of capitalism.

i can't even fully fault this mentality- as someone who has been struggling making barely minimum wage from art in one of the most expensive cities in america for the past two years, i can't say that i haven't been tempted on really difficult occasions to act in ways that would be morally bad but would give me a reprieve from the constant stress cycle of "how am i going to pay for my own survival for another month". the difference is i don't give in to those impulses.

tl;dr i hope that people realize that instead of this just being a time to dogpile on one guy (or a few people), that it's actually about a larger systemic problem, and the perfect breeding grounds society has created for this kind of behavior to largely go unchecked!!!

#hbomberguy #james somerton #idk if any of this is coherent it just needed to get out of me #misinformation #capitalism is hell!

[ineffable-endearments]

Hello, everyone!

In light of Neil Gaiman's comment that Amazon is close to officially renewing Good Omens but hasn't done so yet, I think those of us who can should start sending physical postcards to Amazon Studios!

The TL;DR of this post is that you can easily send a postcard from MyPostcard.com for about $3 (USD, I'm sure other currencies can vary). The Web site will print and mail it for you, so you don't have to do any printing or mailing yourself. The postage is included in the $3.

If you don't already have an image or card you want to use, you can just use one of mine above. Some of them are small because of small source images, but the site seems to resize them appropriately for the card. There are bigger versions in a Google Drive folder that you shouldn't have to be logged in to see.

You can send the postcards asking for a third season of Good Omens addressed to Jennifer Salke and Vernon Sanders, co-heads of Amazon Studios, at:

AMAZON STUDIOS 1620 26TH STREET, SUITE 4000N SANTA MONICA, CA 90404 USA

@fuckyeahgoodomens was the first to post this contact information for Amazon, so thank you, Ixi.

If it's something you don't mind, I would very deeply appreciate reblogs on this, since it works better if lots of people see it! No pressure if you don't want to, though.

And if you have Questions, click through below for my reasoning on all this.

Why should we send postcards to Amazon Studios?

We've made lots of noise online about renewal, and we've done a lot of streaming Good Omens. But I haven't seen much discussion of sending physical mail or, specifically, postcards.

Mail takes up space in the real world. It's slightly harder to ignore than email. It's way more attention-grabbing than posts on X or Tumblr or any other social media site. Because postage is required, physical mail can also appear more "committed."

Postcards specifically are great because of their convenience for the recipient. No one has to open them to read them. All it takes is a quick glance to see what we're asking for, and realistically, a quick glance is the best we can ask for in a corporate office. That's why I'm emphasizing postcards over regular letters (although really, anything helps).

Is sending postcards really going to motivate Amazon to make more Good Omens?

Postcard and letter-writing campaigns have helped get shows renewed in the past. Star Trek: The Original Series is a good example of a series that got another season after a letter-writing campaign. This article has more examples.

We don't actually know what's going on in Good Omens's case. Maybe postcards would make a difference; maybe they wouldn't. We can only make our most determined effort at making sure we're heard, and sending mail is part of that.

The cost of sending a postcard is too much for me.

I understand that sending a postcard will not be an option for many of us. This post isn't intended to try to push you into spending money you don't have. If you still want to find a way to participate, you can also send an email to [email protected] with your comments about wanting Good Omens 3. It's not physical mail, but it is still a personal message from a customer.

In fact, people who are sending postcards might want to follow up with an email, too.

Do we have to use your postcard designs?

No! Not necessarily! You can use anything.

As long as the message you write includes how much you want Good Omens 3, your postcard's image doesn't necessarily have to relate. You could send a souvenir postcard that says "Greetings from Los Angeles, CA / Tadfield, England / etc" from your local post office and just write your message on the back.

Technically, even a plain index card should be thick enough to mail as a postcard, at least by USPS standards. Just write your desire for Good Omens 3 on it, put a stamp and Amazon's address on it, and make sure it's at least 90mm x 127mm (3.5in x 5in).

Isn't Amazon Studios going to notice a bunch of postcards being mailed from the same Web site?

I'm sure they will. But the messages will each be unique, and again, they'll know each card represents a person who had to order the card and postage themselves.

Speaking of unique messages, what should I write?

One sentence is enough. Definitely indicate that you want Season 3 of Good Omens. If you want to add more, you could also write a sentence or two about how much you love the series so far.

Above all, be polite and straightforward! Remember that sarcasm and jokes often do not come across well in print, so it may be best to stick with simple statements that can be taken at face value.

What address should the cards go to?

The co-heads of Amazon Studios appear to be Vernon Sanders and Jennifer Salke; you can address them by name, although I'm guessing it will be someone else who does the reading/glancing.

Amazon Studios's address is:

AMAZON STUDIOS 1620 26TH STREET, SUITE 4000N SANTA MONICA, CA 90404 USA

Where did you get these images?

The images for the nightingale postcard and the Crowley postcard are screencaps from directedbypiper.

The Please Do Not Lick the Walls and Fell the Marvelous posters were downloads from the Amazon X-Ray feature.

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies postcard was adapted from cover art I did for A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine. Most of it is my own, although the mottled background is an extremely blurred version of a free stock texture from Pixabay, users chrisfiedler and/or humusak.

The bookshop postcard is a promotional image from Amazon used in a Den of Geek article.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #renew good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

[novemberevenings]

somewhere between the stars | chapter 1

Azriel is your best friend. The best, most brilliant, and dearest friend you have ever known. It gets harder and harder to separate your platonic and romantic feelings for him.

A/N: first chapter of this series!!! honestly wanted to write my own rendition of an angsty, mutual pining fic w my azzy <3 anyways this first part isn’t the longest but i’m posting it to motivate myself to write the next part!! (btw italics indicate a flash back!)

The night sky seems peaceful tonight, almost as if it were at ease. A chill night breeze brushes past, swirling in the soft grass in greeting. The branches of a nearby tree sway, the only sound being the soft caress of leaves. Lying with your head laid back against the grass, eyes closed in a mix of exhaustion and ecstasy. 

At the feel of a soft, scarred hand brushing against your own, you open your eyes and tilt your head to the side. You’re greeted with a familiar and comforting sight. Your best friend's questioning gaze and furrowed brows make you quietly ask, “What's going on in that head of yours?” 

It’s a phrase that you both have claimed as yours. When either of you needs to be dragged out of your thoughts, the other won’t hesitate to ask to ground you back to the present. 

He’s quiet for a moment, trying to find the words that are jumbled up in his head. He turns to look at the sky once again before asking, “Do you think they’re watching us?” 

“Who?” His question puzzles you, not quite understanding where it's coming from. 

“The stars, the moon. I dunno, maybe the entire sky.” You’re used to his weird questions. It’s become a thing that you’ve got going on between the two of you. “If they are, I hope they don’t snitch on us.” 

This earns you a light chuckle, his head slightly shaking from laughter. Realistically, the sight of two younglings watching the stars at night shouldn’t be a problem. But for a boy who has to wake up for training early in the morning and a girl who has to continue with her apprenticeship, they could get punished for being out this late at night. 

“I like to think that they are. Watching over us, I mean.” 

“Az, that’s kinda really creepy.” 

He laughs indignantly, lightly shoving at your shoulder. It’s silent again, but you can tell he wants to say more, so you wait. “There’s just… so much out there, you know? It’s so big, and there’s so much we don’t know. I like thinking that, somewhere out there, someone’s looking out for us.” 

You take a second to just marvel at the way he thinks. A sudden feeling of gratitude and pride washes over you at being one of the few people who gets to see this side of him. The side of him that’s bright and curious, hopeful. 

You turn your head back towards the sky, looking at the stars and the empty spaces between them. Your best friend’s words are still in your head, trying to form an answer. 

When you look back at him, you find his gaze already on you. He looks at you just like how he looks at the night sky, with reverence and utter devotion. It compels you to reply, “Well, regardless of who’s out there, I’ll always look out for you.” 

He gives you a soft smile, the one that you’ve come to treasure and look forward to. “I’ll always look out for you, too.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tucked into a corner in the library at the House of Wind, your eyes roam over the page you’re reading. You were catching up on some old texts, brushing up on your knowledge of some spells. As the sorceress of the Inner Court, you always wanted to ensure you could protect your family. 

A clock nearby chimes, and you poke your head out to check the time. It was almost time for dinner, but you still wanted to finish the chapter you were reading. Going back to your book, it wasn’t long until the doors to the library slammed open, surprising a couple of priestesses nearby, an arrogant General waltzing in looking to find you. 

“You know, Cass, they expect silence in a library.” Closing the book with a resounding snap, you stand up from the cozy armchair you’d been sitting in, returning the book to its rightful place on a nearby shelf. “Lovely to see you too, my dearest Y/N.” 

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at him but take the arm he’s offering as he leads you out of the library. The two of you exchange stories of the day, Cassian recounting training with the Valkyries that morning. You listen to him intently, but you stop in your tracks when he says, “Az is coming home tonight.”  

“He is?” Your eyes widen as relief washes over you, not realizing how worried and tense you have been throughout the past week since Azriel was gone on a mission. 

“Yeah, sent Rhys a message ‘bout an hour ago.” 

At your look of shock and surprise, Cassian follows up with, “He didn’t tell you?” 

You softly shake your head, dismissing him. “I’m sure he was just really busy with work. It’s fine, Cass. Nothing to worry about.” 

Your soft, encouraging smile did nothing to ease Cassian’s worry, but he didn’t push on the subject. 

There had been this rift growing between you and Az. Both of you had been quite busy with your duties, Az especially. But you can’t help but feel there’s something else that’s causing this, and you hate it. Your friendship with him is one of the best things in your life, and the idea of losing him was… devastating. You don’t think you would be able to survive it. 

But you plan on fixing it as soon as he gets back. A simple conversation will fix this, you’re sure. 

“Alright, come on then.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was a calm night in the House of Wind. Everyone had gathered for weekly family dinner, and all was well. Everyone except for Azriel, that is. 

To say you were tense and anxious would be an understatement. Even a blind man could see just how worried you were. While everyone else was lounging in their seats and sipping their glasses of wine, you sat with your back straight, hands fiddling with each other nervously. 

“Loosen up a little, Y/N! Cauldron, you look like someone just killed your puppy.” You roll your eyes at Cassian’s teasing. Sometimes, you worry your eyes would be stuck at the back of your head whenever you’re with him. 

“Oh, give her a break, Cass. We all know why she’s acting this way.” Mor says, trying to lighten your mood. 

And it’s true. Everyone gathered around you knows exactly why you were so tense and worried. Despite Azriel sending you a message that he would be back tonight, your worry would not disappear until you saw him with your own two eyes, safe and unharmed. 

It was no secret to anyone how close the two of you were. Best friends ever since you met each other in Windhaven. Your friendship was one of the constants in your life, forever a source of comfort. He was your closest confidant, the shoulder you could always lean on, the first person you celebrate the good news with, and the first person to wipe your tears away when you cry. 

He wasn’t just your best friend. He was… your best everything. 

You tried your best to enjoy the night, joking with your family and catching up on each other’s day. Although your worry wasn’t completely gone, the presence of your family always put you at ease, love pouring through every interaction. 

“As I was saying, wing-warmers should totally be a thing. You don’t know just how much the cold affects our wings. I feel like an oversized icicle flying around the–”

Cassian stops mid-rant as a figure appears in the doorway. Everyone follows his line of sight at his silence, your head quickly snapping towards the doorway. 

And just like that, a week’s worth of worry and anxiety melts from your body. The sight of Azriel in his leathers, all seven siphons gleaming, is one you’ve longed for. 

“Az,” you sigh softly in relief. 

“Hi,” he replies. That soft smile you think is reserved just for you spreads across his face, eyes crinkling a little at the edges. 

That one word was all it took for you to fly out of your seat, running towards him at full speed. He catches you, bringing you into his warm embrace immediately. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms as tight as you can around his neck. In response, Azriel buries his nose into your hair, tightening his grip around your waist. 

You pull back slightly, your arms holding his shoulders so you can better scan his body for any injuries. 

At the worry in your face, Azriel asks, “What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

You notice his attempt to lighten your mood and snark right back at him. “Nothing, just thinking about how much you stink.”

He lets out a chuckle, and you can feel his chest vibrate from your proximity. “And here I thought you missed me.” 

You stay in his embrace for a little longer, feeling grateful that he’s returned unharmed, and take a moment to just look at him, reminding yourself that he’s back. A cough sounds from somewhere behind you. “Hello? Care to share him with the rest of us?” 

Rhys’ impatient yet teasing tone makes you and Azriel laugh, pulling apart to let the other members of your family greet him. 

You stand back, watching him embrace everyone else. Finally, you feel settled, like a part of you was missing, and now you’re whole again. You try your best not to think too much about what that might mean, wanting just to enjoy the fact that your best friend is back.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#azriel/reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader

[mangekyuou]

Hi. If you're comfortable with writing this ( if not, please feel free to ignore, no pressure on you, I really really appreciate your hardwork & I love your writing thank you so much for all of this amazing fanfics you keep bringing!! 💗💗💗💗 ), may i request some angst where Zoro & gn!reader gets into a heated argument with each other which leads to reader wanting to break up with him?

★ WHAT ONCE WAS! roronoa zoro ★

── pairing. zoro x gn!reader.

── summary. change was something you feared. but it had happened before your very eyes as you watched your long-term boyfriend train to take on unknown dangers out on the sea. you can’t even recognize him anymore.

── cw(s). angst. gn!reader. no pronouns used. shitty summary. reader says something kinda mean. zoro being kind of a jerk. takes place pre-timeskip before zoro leaves the shimotsuki village. mentions of kuina.

── wc. 1.2k.

── notepad. i actually been so long since i’ve written something angsty that just stayed angsty. it hurt my soul just enough. so thank you so much for this !! i know the rq says that the reader wants to break up, but this one is kind of a mutual break up

things just kind of happen, don’t they? everything feels fine one moment, but the next moment not so much. people change all the time, even when you don’t want them to. maybe, you were afraid of change. maybe, you were just afraid of him changing.

he didn’t hold you anymore. when the sun had fallen to rest, and the moon had taken its place to shine silvery blue in the cool night sky. not once had his arms draped over your body like they used to. he hadn’t even faced you, as he drifted into the world of dreams. most nights, he did not even come to bed.

instead of lying beside you until sunrise, he found himself striking a dummy a hundred times with the same attacks to perfect them. instead of breathing in your cozy scent, he had pushed his mortal body way beyond its limits.

he didn’t kiss you like he did before, full of passion and love. his strong hands cradled your face as he kissed like every time would be the last one. instead, he had settled for quick pecks to the side of your temple, as he muttered “love you” against your warm skin. hardly even a moment later, he would be out the door. he didn’t even give you a chance to say it back. he never even said ‘i love you’ anymore.

maybe it was a minor thing to gripe about for some people, for it to be those special three words instead of the two. but it meant a lot to you, and he knew that. or at least you thought your boyfriend of several years would have known that.

you made up excuses, anything to keep you from believing that the man you loved more than anything was changing before your very eyes more and more every day. you found yourself thinking questions you never wanted to think about.

does he care anymore? was he no longer attracted to you? did he even love you anymore? had he ever even loved you?

it filled you with so much dread, to the point it was overwhelming. it was getting harder and harder to keep how you were feeling behind the closed door of your, well once shared bedroom.

you couldn’t keep going on like this. going on like everything was fine when it wasn’t. pretending to be fine, as you watched your neglectful boyfriend exert himself to near injury in the name of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman.

now he was talking about leaving the village to challenge dracule mihawk to a duel? you loved him dearly, but you heard one too many stories about “hawk-eyes”, none of them were good. allowing your boyfriend to even set foot off this island was sending him to an early grave.

you believed in him, sure. one day he would be the greatest swordsman. but for once, you just wanted him to be realistic and realize that that day will not be tomorrow, it won’t be next week, it won’t be next month.

why doesn’t he understand you feel this way because you care about him?

“zoro…” you say gently, standing at the door frame of the dojo.

the swordsman was still swinging away at the wooden dummy that was a few swings away from falling apart. of course, he didn’t hear you the first time. he never did.

“zoro” your voice was much louder this time, finally grabbing his attention. “huh?” was all he even said before he went back to swinging at the dummy. he didn’t even spare you a glance.

“can we talk, please? it’s important.”

“just say what you’re going to say, ( y/n )”

“WILL YOU PUT DOWN THOSE LOUSY SWORDS AND LOOK AT ME!”

you didn’t mean that. you knew just how much his swords meant to him, especially the one dawning a pure white hilt. you knew what his dream meant to him. you were just angry. frustrated. tired.

you watched as he sheathed the swords, and did as you said. his expression was stone cold. it was like looking at a whole new man. never had he ever looked at you like that. you knew what you said hurt his feelings.

“if you’re still trying to talk me out of leaving, forget it. if i don’t do it now then…”

“THEN WHAT?! you’ve never been out of the east blue! and you’ll be a DEAD MAN if you challenge a shichibukai!” you couldn’t stop yourself from yelling. “you don’t know what lies ahead of you in the other seas, zoro! i’m just trying to help you!”

“i never ASKED for your help!” he retorted, clenching his fist around the hilt of one of his swords. he continued, “i never WANTED your help! i never NEEDED your help!”

a silence filled the room, as your face dropped and your heart sank into the dark void of your body. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even form the words you wanted to. you weren’t even exactly sure what those words were.

“if i don’t do this now…then i may never have a chance to do it again. i have to do this, I thought you understood that.” his voice was full of disappointment, as he turned his back to you, as if you had meant nothing, as if this has all meant NOTHING.

you balled your fists, “i do understand that! but i also understand that there are battles that we are not prepared for just yet! kuina meant a lot to you, zoro. her dream has become yours, and you want nothing more than to achieve that for her. but you are not ready. letting you go would be suicide! kuina would not want that!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED! YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER!” he snapped at you.

“YOU’RE RIGHT! I DIDN’T! BUT I KNEW SHE WOULDN’T WANT HER FRIEND DEAD! AND I’M NOT GOING TO SIT BACK AND LET THAT HAPPEN TO YOU!”

“then don’t. leave.”

“…what?”

just like that, you felt everything crash around you. leave? what did he mean 'leave'? leave and go where? how could you leave when this was all you knew? HE was all you knew. you were each other’s firsts. how….could you just leave?

how could he throw everything away? everything you were willing to stay and fix.

“leave! you don’t want to be here then go. nobody’s stopping you.”

he made it clear.

it couldn’t be any clearer than that.

with shaking hands, you slowly turned on your heel, putting one foot in front of the other, walking out of the dojo, walking away from your first love, walking away from the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

you had hoped, he would have stopped you. that he would drop his swords and chase after you, pull you into a hug, and apologize for what he said. you had hoped you just start over, like none of this ever happened. that he would see that you meant well, that you just wanted to keep him safe, that he would stay here with you.

but that didn’t happen. tears flooded your cheeks, as you continued to walk home without him.

it was over, wasn’t it?

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE. #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro oneshots #zoro scenarios #zoro imagines #zoro headcanons #zoro angst #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #one piece angst

[digenerate-trash]

Outta town freaks just as promised!!! Yandare head cannons. (Blackwolf and great hawk be harder to write for because animals are weird and obsessive anyway)

amab. again. Easier to write for

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Eden:

Eden is definitely one of those mother fuckers whose whole thing is "If I can't have you no one can".

big possessive man with an insecurity complex the size of the moon

but since no one can get to you Eden feels pretty secure in you loving him back eventually

if you're sold to him by Bailey a couple weeks in eden tells Bailey you died. You couldn't handle the cold out in the woods.

if he captures you there's no need for him to lie to anyone. He keeps you trapped in the cabin till you love him back.

prefers to use leashes cages and locks to keep you in place. He's very realistic about you not wanting to be there at first but he thinks with training and a strict routine you'll just fall in line. No matter how defiant.

will absolutely Break your leg to keep you in the cabin.

is fine with blood. But doesn't want to cut off your leg or arms to keep you in place because he's not confident you'll stay alive. He's a butcher, not a surgeon.

really wants you to fall in line. He gets desperate the more defiant you stay as the weeks go on. Harsher punishments, more broken bones. Starvation. Anything to keep you down and weak.

if you give In to the hunter immediately he's suspicious but happy. He watches you carefully. Every movement you make is watched carefully. You can tell he's studying you.

once Eden is fully comfortable with you being in his home he really starts to get possessive. Spouses are supposed to stay home after all. Take care of things for him while he works out in the dangerous woods

you're not allowed past the clearing. Even washing clothes in the spring isn't supposed to be done when Eden isn't home.

absolutely no going to town. The town is dangerous and dirty and gross. Freaks live there. Freaks that could hurt his spouse and it's his job to keep you safe.

he brings you gifts from the woods. Sometimes they're things that remind him of you and sometimes it's barries or flowers. Something he thinks you'll like. He never offers an explanation he just thrusts it in your hands.

when wolves (or even people) get too close to the cabin it's shoot first for Eden. He'll drag the carcass on the porch if you're still defiant when this happens. He might even brag about how he's a perfect shot. So it's just best for everyone if you listen.

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Remy:

Remy honestly would rather not have feelings for you but now they can't stop it. You're their favorite little riding student after all.

Remy is pretty body-focused and that's mainly what he likes about you. He thinks your body is perfect.

very touchy, Feels you up as he rides with you on horseback. He digs his nails into your wrist when you tell him you have to leave.

he's enamored with you. The only problem is when you start to talk with Alex you get it in your head that he's the enemy.

he knows he could just convince you otherwise but it's much more fun to watch you fight with him. (He knows you're not serious you're just playing)

talking with Remy is like talking to a brick folksy wall. Witty banter. Coy remarks. He takes all your insults with a smug grin.

getting on his bad side is a hell of its own making though because no questions asked you're going to the underground farm.

You are separate from the other animals though. Too precious to Remy to be with the others. But he makes sure you understand what kind of person he can be when you refuse to behave.

you will absolutely never meet harper even if Remey has subjected you to living as livestock. Remy knows how much of a freak that dude is.

he still loves you and your body even though the changes it goes through. When you can't speak words anymore he sees it as a win. He doesn't need to have an intelligent partner. He just needs you to be here. Under his control. That way he can at least convince himself that you're happy here.

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Alex:

He is mostly just a big puppy. He wants you around always and will never take no for an answer.

the only dude who's more family-focused than Alex is probably Kylar.

determined to breed you. Dude will never quit. Wants a picture-perfect household and a barefoot spouse to boot

wants to lay in bed all day with you but since he's got work to do he's dragging you along with him.

will never leave your side. He's keeping you company always. Dude is clingy.

obsessed with making you. Bites hickies bruises. Whatever he can get away with. Even when you tell him it's too much hell always say next time he'll be more careful. But he isn't.

it only gets bad when you say you don't love him or that you can't be with him. sends him into hysterics.

he says it's fine. It's not. The first few days apart from you are fine. But eventually, he gets too worked up.

hell track you down. Whether you are in serious danger or just returned to town. He'll tell you all about how he misses you and he can't take it and how his heart breaks when you're not there.

guilt trip to the extreme until you come back home with him.

if that doesn't work hell just overpower you. Hell, justify it by telling himself it's just a temporary measure. That you really want a life with him but other people are holding you back. And once you are back at the farm Alex is happy to dote on you again. More than before. He is extra sweet as well. Your favorite meals are served up he lets you take breaks from farm work when you like. He carves you little trinkets and gifts. Anything to make you forget about a life outside of him.

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Blackwolf:

an actual dog. Separation anxiety to the max.

bites, marks, saliva, blood, piss, he marks you with everything he can. He needs you to smell like him so much that you two are inseparable

not gonna tolerate you leaving. Grabs you by the scruff and drags you back to the cave.

hunts with Blackwolf are the most annoying because he's too focused on you staying safe than hunting and the pack blames you for Meger return and distracting the best hunter. (Blackwolf prefers you stay back in the cave anyway. Safer there)

has killed other wolves for sniffing around you.

will absolutely start fights for no reason if you've been away or not giving him enough attention.

will always bring you the best parts of the carcass for you to gnaw on. (He doesn't know or care if it's bad for people)

constantly licking you everywhere he can spend hours doing it.

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Great hawk:

is so spouse-focused but doesn't know what it means in human terms.

birds get jealous and crazy so easily so probably that as well.

puffs up feathers and chest when he sees a "threat" could be anything from a small animal to an actual monster.

will bite. Doesn't mean to hurt you it's just to get your attention

wants to make you happy performs mating dances then gets frustrated when you don't seem to reciprocate.

takes his time grabbing shiny things that you'll like. Gets way more frustrated and bird-like when you refuse his gifts.

prefers to hunt at dusk and dawn so that the days are spent nesting and the nights are spent sleeping

all food he brings you is either shredded terribly or is coughed up for you.

he's a little gross but he's got the spirit.

trying to escape Great Hawk is..... difficult. You'll need some help

#eden the hunter #remy the farmer #alex the farmhand #black wolf #great hawk #degrees of lewdity #dol #trash headcannons #trash thoughts #tw blood #tw yandare #tw implied rape #tw rape #yan dol #yandere #tw yandere #yandere tropes #gn reader #x reader