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#jesus fucking christ this dude is a sadist
hellfirecvnt · 2 years
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Perv Eddie smut please!
You and the hellfire gang are playing truth or dare. Eddie teases you that you can’t turn him on, you are one of the guys so it won’t work. When you whisper the dirtiest things in his hear his mind is changed officially. Everyday after that he can’t look at you the same way. You’ve turned him into a huge pervert, stealing your panties and thinking degrading feral thoughts.
WOW OKAY. PERV!EDDIE HAS BEEN ON MY LIST I JUST COULDN'T THINK OF A GOOD PROMPT AND THIS IS PERFECT!!!
Finish What You Started
Perv!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
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Warning: Smut near the end (+18 minors DNI), perv!eddie, peeping tom, Somnophilia, unprotected sex, more?
[I take requests]
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Another thrilling campaign was concluded tonight. Eddie was feeling particularly on top of the world having outsmarted the entire Hellfire Club, leading to their unfortunate (character) demise.
"Better luck next time, gentlemen... Y/N." He adds you at the last second, a testament to his "gentlemanly" ways.
"You knew what you were doing with that banshee, Munson." You huff, recalling the way you forgot they can sense life from five miles away, eliminating any chance you had for a surprise attack.
"Of course I did, dude. That's the point." He laughs, lightly punching you in the shoulder. "Now, don't be a sore loser. We're all going back to my place to celebrate my awesome campaign."
It was common for Eddie to host a "party" for the club at the end of a campaign. This time differed only in his ego being as big as the building tonight, having won and all. You and the rest of the guys give a cheer in confirmation, already prepared to get tore up from the floor up.
The group files outside, and you catch a ride with Eddie as you have a million times before. Jeff hops in his car and Gareth drives Dustin and Mike in his.
"You have fun tonight?" You laugh in Eddie's van as it smoothly coasts to his nearby trailer.
"Oh, sure. My favorite part was you, Y/N knower of all monsters and spells, insufferable know-it-all DnD extraordinaire, forgetting the one thing that makes a banshee, a banshee." He taunts, earning a playful scowl from you.
You arrive at the trailer within minutes, the rest of the club close behind. Everyone gathers in the empty living room as they have time and time before. Eddie tosses a bottle of beer to everyone except Mike and Dustin, but they don't mind. They're just happy to be here.
"Next week, prepare yourselves for perhaps my most sadistic adventure to date!" Eddie, buzzed, displays grand showmanship as he describes next week's sneak peek. The hang out shifts from DnD talk, to sporadic jam sessions, to crazy stories, until finally Dustin suggests Truth or Dare.
"What are we, five?" Gareth teases.
"No, no. This could be fun. Start us off, Henderson." A drunken Eddie hands Dustin the floor.
"Uh, okay. Jeff, truth or dare?" Dustin looks at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Huh, I guess dare." Jeff isn't the confessing type.
"I dare you to take a shot of the hottest hot sauce Eddie has in his house." Dustin looks at an elated Eddie. He scurries back to his room and comes back with a black glass bottle.
"Turn it up, Jeff." Eddie snickers.
"What is this? Is this even hot sauce? Is this drugs?" Jeff opens the small lid and sniffs.
"No, dumbass. It's ghost pepper extract. My uncle bought it as a gag gift for me one Christmas. It feels like tongue fucking a stove eye." Eddie slouches into the couch, watching for Jeff's reaction. He turns the small bottle up, one big gulp, and he looks at the rest of us.
"It's not really that bad." His lisp is multiplied by 7 and his eyes are steadily pouring tears, but other than that, he doesn't waver.
"Jesus Christ." Dustin marvels, laughing as Jeff's tears soak his shirt. "You're turn, Jeff."
"Eddie, you son of a bitch. Truth or dare?" Jeff laughs through deep breaths.
"Hey man, all I did was supply the sauce. Henderson's the one who dared you. But, truth." Eddie smirks, certain there's nothing he'd be too scared to admit.
"Why do all the models in the Playboys you buy look like Mike's mom?" Jeff asks smugly. The entire room erupts into laughter, except for Mike.
"Come on, guys," Mike groans.
"To be fair, Mrs. Wheeler is a dime." You add, fueling Mike's discomfort.
"I'm gonna claim it's completely coincidental." Eddie chuckles.
"Yeah, right. We've all seen Mike's mom," Gareth starts, causing Mike to groan yet again. "It doesn't really take much to set you off, man."
"Yeah honestly anything with a pussy and a pulse could probably find a way into Eddie's bed." Jeff laughs.
"That's a lie. Y/N has a pussy probably and I've never wanted to fuck her. She's one of the guys, it just can't happen." He sits with a proud look on his face as if he proved anything.
"Probably?" You repeat to yourself as you lift your waistband, making sure she's still down there. Eddie picks Gareth and dares him to call his mom posing as a toaster repair service. It goes to hell and she hangs up furiously. The trailer nearly shakes with drunken laughter.
"Y/N, truth or dare?" Gareth points to you across the living room.
"Uh, dare, I guess." You chuckle, eager to see what bullshit they're gonna have you attempt.
"I dare you to turn Eddie on." Gareth grins wickedly, aware that Eddie just said it couldn't be done.
"Good luck, bud. It's gonna be like having Jeff try to get in my pants." Eddie jokes.
"Alright, lemme give it a try." You lean over to Eddie, cupping your hand around his ear as you begin to whisper.
"You have no idea how many times I've touched myself while imagining you throat fucking me as hard as you can, forcing yourself into my throat while tears fall down my face." You start. "I think about the way your cock would twitch inside me while you came in my tight, little pussy. And then I'd finger myself afterward, just to taste us mixed together." You let your breath wash over Eddie's neck before you pulled away.
Eddie's eyes widen in shock. The room fills with boyish giggles as his cheeks become a rosy color.
"Jesus, Y/N. What'd you say to him?" Gareth slaps his hands together once, laughing with everyone else. Eddie is stunned, unable to look at you for a moment, and unable to speak.
"I dunno, but I don't need to see him pitch a tent to know I did it." You smirk proudly, relishing in the buzzed confidence.
Jesus Christ Eddie thinks to himself. He racks his brain for a single memory that could be warned him you'd never be capable of saying something like that.
"Mike, truth or dare?" You somewhat slur.
"Please don't make it about my mom," He begs.
"Truth or dare, Wheeler? C'mon." You bypass his request, gesturing for him to give you an answer.
"Ugh, truth."
"Does your mom still have that necklace? The golden charm with a strangely placed pearl?" You fight to contain your laughter.
"Yeah, I think so. Why?" Mike furrows his brow.
"You guys, Mike's mom has one of those pussy necklaces. It's like fancy, but it's meant to look like a vag. I swear to God." You describe it to them, and they all confirm they've seen it.
"Guys, seriously?" Mike whines.
"Your mom fucks, Mike. Get over it. Don't dull her shine." You turn up your beer as punctuation on your sentence.
"I'm not dulling her shine, I just don't want to hear about it!" He throws a pillow at you, laughing. "And she's married! I have a dad!"
"Show off." Gareth jokes. The rest of the night is full of laughter and more Mike's Mom Jokes than anyone could've really prepared for. Eddie stays much quieter, eventually excusing himself to the bathroom.
The second the door was shut, a deep, desperate sigh escaped his mouth. Drunk and hornier than he thought possible, he splashes water in his face a few times before finally giving in and fucking his fist in the bathroom. He replays your breathy whispers over and over, cumming faster than he ever has.
A wave of shame washes over him as he reassesses what just happened. He chocks it up to being drunk, and you being pretty. Sure, she's always been hot. We're still just pals, though. I'm just a horny drunk. He reasons with himself.
The next day, Eddie wakes up with morning wood. His dreams were consumed by thoughts of your soft lips brushing against his ear as you spoke. He covers his eyes with his hands and groans. Something in him wants to be ashamed of how perverted he's being, but it's your fault, right? He strokes himself until he finishes, quietly mumbling your name as he does.
Usually, when Eddie was feeling particularly pervy, he could satiate the thoughts by cumming. But it wasn't working this time. Desperate just to hear your voice, he calls you.
"C'mon. Pick up, pick up..." He twirls the spiral phone cord around his finger, but your phone goes to voicemail. You got pretty drunk, it's no wonder you're still asleep at- he checks the clock- 6 AM?! No wonder it's still dark outside. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth, hatching an idea.
On the weekends, your parents go out of town for business. Because of this, Eddie knows various ways of entering your house, for friendly reasons, of course. Until now. He gets dressed and heads out his trailer door to his van. He's speeding, actually speeding to get to you faster.
Your front door is locked, as he would expect. So he treks around the side of your one-story house to your bedroom window. He reaches his ring-clad fingers to the window pane, carefully drawing closer, face stiff with focus.
The lamp next to your bed is still on, a clear indication of how drunk you were when you went to bed. The dim light illuminates Eddie's dark figure outside the glass. He reaches to open the window, as he had plenty of times before regardless of you being asleep or awake, but then he stops.
He notices the way you're laying in your bed. Face down, one leg straight and the other bent and hiked up next to you. Your arms wrap around the pillow under your head. His eyes fix on your sleep shorts, the way they've ridden up, exposing the entire bottom half of your ass cheeks.
"Jesus Christ, Y/N. What did you do to me?" He grunts, palming himself through his jeans. He finally reaches for the window and slides it open, not caring if you wake up or not. It wouldn't be the first time you woke up to him in your room. It would, however, be the first time Eddie rummaged through your panty drawer.
He cataloged every fabric and style in his mind, imagining the way each pair would look on your round hips. He then spots a pair sitting at the top of your laundry hamper. A sexy silk thong with embroidered text that reads "Eat Me." He already knows exactly which sex shop you got them from.
Without thought or reservation, he lifts the underwear to his face, inhaling your scent. He tangles his fingers in the smooth fabric as his jeans tighten. He's brutally shaken from his lustful trance when he hears you shift on the bed. He shoves the panties into his back pocket and adjusts himself the best he can.
"Mmm, hey man. What time is it?" You mumble in a raspy voice that makes Eddie's cock twitch.
"I uh, I'm not sure." He scratches his neck nervously, hoping you don't check the clock right next to you.
"Hell yeah." You reply, as if to the wrong conversation. You're back asleep not long after. A sigh of relief falls over Eddie. He gently creeps up to you in your bed, placing a light-as-a-feather hand over your skin where your skimpy shorts didn't cover. Goosebumps flood your skin under his gentle grazes.
He grips his bulge, desperate to calm the raging erection in his pants. He imagines waking you up by slipping his throbbing cock inside you. The way you'd moan and clench around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside you with every full-force thrust. Drool threatens to fall from his lips before he snaps out of it, and steps away.
As many weird kinks and fantasies as he has, he's never felt this out of control. He bites his fist, searching for any sensation besides the burning need to fuck you while you sleep. He shakes the thoughts from his mind the best he can before collapsing in your giant bean bag chair, falling back asleep.
Eddie wakes up to the sound of you clinking around in your bathroom. Doing your make-up and brushing your teeth. He can't recall his dream, but glued to the inside of his eyelids is the image of you looking up at him with his dick in your mouth.
"Fuuuuuck." He groans aloud.
"You okay?" You pop your head out the door. Eddie stares at you for a moment, unable to reply. "Eddie?"
"Yeah, haha. Sorry, hungover." He throws on a convincing nonchalant smirk. You're none the wiser.
"I'll be ready in just a second. Hope I haven't made you wait too long!" You call from the bathroom. Eddie stands from the comfy bean bag and stretches. He idly slides his hands in his back pockets, rediscovering the panties he's "borrowing" from you. He stuffs them deeper into his pocket when he hears you coming.
You emerge from the bathroom, a trail of light floral, expensive-smelling perfume in your wake. The scent fills Eddie's senses, causing his eyelashes to flutter.
"What's the plan for today, dude?" You ask innocently.
"I dunno. I figured we could play it by ear." He shrugs.
"Is it hot outside today?" You ask, holding up a pair of the shortest cut-offs Eddie has ever seen. Without missing a beat, he replies.
"Yup. High 90s I've heard." He doesn't watch the weather channel. You huff and disappear to the bathroom once again to change. It never occurred to Eddie how slutty you dress outside of school until now. You were notorious for tiny skirts and mesh body suits. The thought of any of your previous "going out" outfits that he once looked over makes him nearly jizz in his pants.
You emerge again from the bathroom, long legs fully on display. Eddie can't help but imagine how well they'd fit over his shoulders. He shakes his head, expelling his thoughts, or at least trying to.
"Oh! We should go to this new little ice cream shop downtown." You suggest, knowing Eddie would never turn down food after he smokes. You spark up a joint and pass it to him, his hand shakes as he grazes against your fingers. "You sure you're okay, man?"
"I'm fine, just waiting for you all morning." He quickly attempts to cover up his anxious horniness. "But ice cream sounds awesome, let's go." The two of you take a couple more hits off the joint and you tap the roach out into your ashtray.
In his van, Eddie can't help but watch the way your chest bounces with every bump and pothole he hits. He nonchalantly begins swerving into them, hoping for bigger potholes to shake you more.
"Jeez, they let this road go to hell, didn't they?" You criticize.
"Right? What are we even paying taxes for?" He jokes. You're the only person in the group with a job and it's only 2 days a week for 4 hours per shift at the arcade. Eddie continues to stare at your chest, side eyeing every jiggle. He imagines how they'd bounce while he's shoving his cock into you.
He quickly shakes his thoughts away, just barely missing a curb as he pulled into the ice cream shop parking lot.
"This place better be delicious or I'm never trusting you to pick breakfast again." His voice is playful and he seems to be a bit more handsy than usual. He's no stranger to physical contact with his pals, but he can't help himself with you. Poking and teasing you as much as he can, just to feel your soft skin.
"Oh man, I didn't realize this is kinda breakfast for us." You giggle.
You order your ice creams, you pick your trusty favorite flavor and Eddie tries something that looks like it should've never been frozen, let alone scooped.
"Oh my God, it tastes like grass." Your face scrunches in disgust.
"Yeah, I don't know why I thought something this dark green would taste good." Eddie digs through his cup of strange frozen dairy attempting to distract himself from the way your pierced, pink tongue travels from the cone to the tip of your ice cream.
Suppressing a moan, he reaches into his pocket, running his rough, calloused fingers over the soft silk of your panties.
"Y/N, about um, yesterday. What you said during truth or dare." Eddie starts.
"Oh shit, sorry man. I was getting super buzzed by that point. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything." You reach a hand out to his, hoping you didn't cross a line last night.
"Oh God, no. You didn't do anything. I uh, I was just wondering if," he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "If you meant it."
Your cheeks flash hot as you remember exactly what you whispered to him. None of it was a lie or even an exaggeration, but you couldn't read his tone well enough to admit it.
"Oh, God no. We're like best buds." Now you're the nervous one.
"Right, yeah. Of course." He chuckles, fixing his eyes on his green frozen treat. The ride back to your house is awkward and sexually tense, but you can't tell if it's you or him. The tension evaporates slowly throughout the day until Eddie is once again alone in his trailer.
He lays in his bed, stroking himself with your panties pressed firmly against his nose. Vulgarly, he moans your name into the silk as he cums.
"Fuck." He groans as more as more images of you cloud his mind. Every time you've ever bent over to grab something. Every time you've had to readjust your tiny, barely-there tube top. Finally, he can't take it anymore, and he stalks to the house phone to call you, hoping you're still awake.
The second his fingers graze the phone, it rings.
"Hello?" Eddie rubs the sleep from his eyes.
"Hey." It's you.
"Woah, I was just about to call you." He laughs, relieved just to hear your voice.
"Yeah? What for?" You stall.
"We'll get to that when you tell me what you called for." Eddie smirks.
"Oh, I uh... I couldn't sleep so I was wondering if you'd come smoke with me."
"Wow, calling me for free weed? Low." He jokes before agreeing and hanging up.
Back at your house, you find yourself becoming nervous. You really did call because you couldn't sleep, but like the whore you are, the real reason was just hoping to be around Eddie for a little longer.
"Knock, knock." He vocalizes while knocking on your window. He climbs through and passes you an already lit joint. You take it graciously and take a long drag, hoping to calm your nerves. "Can't sleep, huh?"
"Nah. You too?" You pass the joint back to him.
"No, I just- I was working on the next campaign." He's lying. He has at least two adventures queued up at all times.
"No banshees, I hope." You eyeball him, taking the joint from his hands.
"No, no banshees this time." He smiles, enveloping you in his shining, dark brown eyes. He paces around your room, scanning your knick knacks as he usually did before sitting on the side of your bed with you.
You're so close to him, your soft thigh nearly brushes against his. You pass him the joint, but his distracted hands fumble and drop it on your carpeted floor.
"Shit," he snaps as he quickly leans down to grab the burning joint. You notice something in his pocket, aside from his regular bandanna. It's a familiar black silk with red lettering. Your underwear.
"Eddie," you furrowed your brow, still staring at the cloth in his pocket. "Are those my panties?" His face instantly turns red. He quickly straightens back up on the bed, wide eyed, unable to find an excuse.
"I uh, I-" he stutters, certain you'll never talk to him again after this.
"Have you been... carrying these around?" You question. Eddie raises an eyebrow noticing the tone if your voice sounds excited, not accusatory.
"I just-" he starts, but you cut him off.
"Have you been touching yourself, holding my panties?" A wicked grin spreads across your face. You begin to lean forward, confidently. Eddie's breathing gets heavier as you draw closer, filling his nostrils with the sickly sweet scent of your perfume.
"I don't know what you did to me the other night, Y/N. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about it." He huffs, inches away from your lips.
"Good, because I fucking meant it." You tease in a whisper before connecting your lips to his. A desperate moan vibrates against your mouth as Eddie firmly wraps his arms around you. His fingertips dig into any skin they find. He clings to you, pulling you closer and closer until you're in his lap, grinding against his bulge.
"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" He questions you between kisses.
"I dunno, I was fine with my fantasies. You're the one that couldn't help himself, you fucking pervert." You moan the last word against his lips, causing his eyes to roll back. He knew you were right.
He slips his hands under your shirt, sliding them up your back. He brings them to your breasts, running his thumbs over your hard nipples.
"No bra?" He licks his lips, focusing on the movements of his hands over your skin. Soft moans fly from your lips as his hands get rougher and rougher the longer he toys with you. He suddenly shifts and throws you back into your pillows. "I am going to fucking ruin you." Eddie grins.
He swiftly and easily swipes your shorts and panties off in one go, stuffing the new pair of underwear in his pocket proudly. Without much warning, he dives his tongue directly into your dripping cunt. You both moan on contact, your eyes rolling back as his tongue found every single angle that made you want to scream.
He digs his nails into your thighs, pulling you more and more into him. He eats you out until you're almost literally seeing stars. Having came at least twice since he started.
"Eddie, please!" You yelp as you pull at his frizzy hair, desperate to be fucked.
"Shhh, doll." He coos from between your legs. His lips and chin are glossy from your arousal. "I want you to show me what your mouth can do, first."
Eddie withdraws from you, leaving your cunt begging for contact. Whiney moans escape you as you buck your hips against nothing. He stands and pulls his pants down to his knees before sitting back down on the bed. Instinctively, you slid into the floor on your knees in front of where he sits. The perfect height for your mouth to wrap around his cock.
You playfully refuse to open your mouth at first, but Eddie grips the hair on the back of your head and your bottom jaw, forcing your lips open for him. His grip remains on your hair, guiding your head up and down his shaft. You meticulously work your aforementioned tongue ring against his flesh, earning loud, vulgar moans.
"Jesus, fuck Y/N." He breathes as you hollow your cheeks around him, pulling your mouth off with a pop. You rub his head back and forth across the ball of your piercing, watching him squirm as you stimulate the sensitive skin. With one more loud growl, Eddie tugs your hair, signaling you to stand.
He switches your places, shoving you against the bed, ass up with your head shoved into the sheets. He pumps his middle finger into your on-display pussy. The cold of his rings biting against your entrance. You can't help but moan loudly, almost screaming just from his fingers.
"We can't have all that." Eddie chuckles as he reaches into his pocket and retrieves the underwear you were wearing not long ago. He balls them up and stuffs them into your whining mouth, muffling your moans. "That's better."
He strokes himself a few times before lining himself up and sinking into you slowly. Long, breathy moans emit from his chest as he thrusts over and over. By now, you're screaming into the wad of fabric in your mouth, drool pooling at your lips as you let the lust envelope your entire body.
You've had fantasies, of course. But nothing could've prepared you for the real thing. He continues to thrust into you, gently playing with your clit until you're squirming so much, that he can't hold you still.
He promptly removes himself from you, flipping you on your back. He reaches for the hem of your shirt, tearing it away from you.
"You are un-fucking-real." Eddie smirks as he marvels over your fully exposed body waiting, legs spread, just for him. In the blink of an eye, he's back inside you. Thrusting as hard as he can to make your tits bounce like they did in the van. You claw and grip at the sheets, eventually spitting the panties from your mouth to beg.
"Eddie, please, I'm- I'm gonna-"
"Not yet." He snaps.
"Eddie!"
"Not. Fucking. Yet." Each word punctuated by another hard thrust. His thrusts slowly became sloppy and offbeat. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a loud cry as you finish, flooding his cock and pelvis. Eddie follows suit, throwing his head back as his dick twitches inside you, warmth flooding in your lower abdomen as he fills you with cum.
"E-Eddie..." You stutter as he's still fucking you, slowly riding out his orgasm. He collapses on top of you, still inside. His heavy breathing in sync with yours.
"God damn, dude." He gasps before slipping out of you. You close your eyes, relishing in the relief when he plummets another finger in your throbbing hole.
"Eddie!" You yelp, arching your back at the sudden contact. He chuckles, bringing the finger to your mouth, coated in each of your cum. You sensually lick his finger clean, watching as his eyes roll back.
"C'mere. Let me help you get cleaned up." Eddie extends a hand to you. You take it and stand on two wobbly legs as you attempt to make it to your bathroom. Cum leaks down your struggling legs with each step. Eddie helps you draw a bath and clean up before you both collapse on your bed.
"Here," you huff, passing him another joint.
"I think you're my dream girl." Eddie stares at you with his big, puppy dog eyes. "Seriously."
"About time you noticed, Munson."
The next Friday rolls around and the club torments you both relentlessly.
"Oh, don't worry. We know Y/N completed her dare." Gareth snorts.
"What does that mean?" You question, already blushing.
"I mean my house is right across from yours and I could see Eddie watching you through your window. Didn't look like his hands were praying." The curly headed guy laughs.
"Watching me?" You furrow your brow, growing slightly wet at the thought.
"Never mind that, it's time for Dungeons and Dragons. Bow to your Dungeon Master and kiss the rings." Eddie announces.
"No way, those have probably been inside Y/N's pussy." Jeff laughs, earning a playful arm punch from you.
"They have been in her pussy, that's what makes it oh so cool to kiss them." He winks at you, kissing the ring on his middle finger. The rest of the club groans and rolls their eyes.
(Bonus points if you got that Righteous Gemstones reference.)
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punkascas · 2 months
Text
okay, so i don't want to, like, Start Something or whatever so we're doing a barely-tagged, separate post. i also realise this is mostly pointless because others have already said what i'm going to say, and did it better, with far more grace, and sound less like an asshole than i do.
but jesus louise helen christ, the weird fucked up ideas people have around abuse and personal responsibility and the effect of trauma. like as an abuse and csa survivor, it genuinely alarms me to read posts that use arguments i remember my dad making. like, i'm assuming most of this rhetoric comes from gen z — maybe that's inaccurate; maybe that's unfair. but right now i'm very much Having A Moment Here that the kids aren't alright.
no 22-year-old should be repeating the same awful, manipulative, logically and morally bankrupt justifications for violence and torture my dad says. like literally what's in the first two episodes of ofmd s2 is torture.
i love ed; he's an amazing character. taika is hella wowza top marks acting him. but like.
like.
torture, my dude. physical and psychological. trauma. harassment. that we see the lasting effects of through s2.
just. i. what??
so here we go, okay. have too many, zealously highlighted screenshots so i can dig into details.
cut to save your dashes. content warning for discussions of abuse and trauma (if that wasn't obvious), as well as spoilers for ofmd s2.
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re: ed knew what he was doing was wrong and felt guilty about it at the time:
we have no on-screen, textual examples of this. not in the dialogue; not in the acting; not in the blocking; not in the cinematography or music. nothing.
knowing the crew are overworked and kind of traumatised by all the violence, ed bribes them with cake. because, as we know, cake like tea fixes everything. only ed wasn't even with them to share in the eating of the cake. he made izzy responsible for that. he doesn't give the crew a break; he doesn't choose less ethically-fraught prizes to hunt. there is not one scene of ed talking directly to the crew — until he points a gun at each of them.
we see ed crying (and drinking, and rhino horn-ing [way to help further extinction, man]) but it's always paired with shots or flashbacks that reference stede. ed is still all up in his feelings about stede, and ed confirms this when he tells frenchie the myth about albatrosses never needing to return to land. ed cannot go back, does not want to go back, because he was rejected. (like, stede is literally landed gentry, come on!) all he wants to do instead is stay at sea committing to this unhinged version of unstable, sadistic piracy.
but okay, okay. say we ignore all of that. let's say ed does feel sorry and guilty and ashamed of his actions. he knows what he's doing is wrong and unfair and cruel. that it's harming others. that it's particularly harming the dude that ed has, for better or worse, basically spent his life with (izzy; i mean izzy). ed… still continues to do the things! how far off are we at this point from the definition of malicious? you know action x hurts person b and then you do it anyway. is that honestly a better, happier, more ethically defensible reading of the character?
re: the crew didn't mutiny because they love ed despite his violent, sadistic actions.
mutinies were a thing, yes. but both historically and in the world rules established by the show, mutiny is disincentivised through threats, distraction via extra work, and corporeal punishment. we see both ed and izzy use all three of these to try to prevent the crew from disobeying orders. they didn't wait until the storm and izzy shooting ed to mutiny because they understood or sympathised with ed; they took the chance to kill him then because that was the first real opportunity they'd had. the reward finally out-weighed the risk given that ed was going to kill them all that night anyway.
again, we have no scenes, no dialogue, no visual or audio cues to tell us that the crew understands or loves ed — excluding izzy, obviously. fang could also be on that list, if you take into account his personality and his behaviour both in s1 and later in s2 in the fishing boat scene. but in the first two episodes, we only see the crew show trauma responses around ed. they talk about him but almost never to him. and when they do have a direct conversation with ed, it is either confrontation or head down, submissive, "of course, blackbeard; anything you say" placating. i'm so baffled where the show points to any sign of love from the crew towards ed before his "death".
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re: ed can't be held responsible because he was suicidal.
uhm. no. hard no. a harder no than stede's brazilian cherry wood mast. fucked up people do fucked up things but part of being an adult is owning your fucked-upped-ness and not fucking up others while you work on unfucking yourself. children, children are not fully responsible for the impact of their actions on others when they're deep in their feelings, especially if they're feeling their feelings as a trauma response. this is because literally their brain cannot do that kind of control. it doesn't have that software pack installed yet. ed does have all the adult updates installed, even if he isn't running them at that moment. he has no right to take out his feelings on other people: to maim them, to psychologically torture them, to abuse them, to work them to exhaustion. to kill them. he does not get a free pass to do suicide by abused employees. (like suicide by cop but more indirect and passive and harmful.) talk about passive aggressive.
secondly, ed is not just passively suicidal and happy to find new risks that might end his life. he is very purposefully taking izzy with him (see: literally removing the bits of izzy that would help let him walk away from ed; the fact that ed becomes actively suicidal only once he thinks izzy is dead; the whole keeping izzy's corpse in front of his and stede's beach shack i mean inn — the codependence, she runs deep). ed is also putting the crew through the same risks, the same isolation, the same danger. both stede and izzy agreed that ed had gone full scorched earth policy. you don't get forgiven for the murder part of a murder-suicide pact just because of the suicide part. not to mention that no one (once again, you could potentially argue izzy as an exception) was good on a murder-suicide pact with blackbeard.
and then to say the crew felt guilty? i assume i'm misreading that. the crew. felt guilty. for ed's actions. that is, if not victim blaming and if not darvo, a very close inbred cousin of them. like hapsburg jaw inbred close.
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re: ed healing and his view of himself as a monster.
to heal means, in part, to accept responsibility for the harm you've caused, whether it was intentional or not. it means making amends. it means building or rebuilding relationships where possible. it means putting the other person or persons' feelings and boundaries and need for safety above your desire for absolution or forgiveness. it means working through your own guilt and shame and anger (or whatever drove you to act the way you did) in a separate space, not with the people you hurt, but someone who can be a step removed, more impersonal and objective to help you reflect and face hard truths as needed. i say this as both someone involved in activism and community reparations and as an abuse survivor who has done nearly 30 years of therapy learning this in order to not hurt people. it's not ed's fault he's fucked up just like it isn't my fault i am. but it is on me, like it is on anyone, to make sure i limited as much as possible the harm i can cause to others because i learned some awful but very effective tricks at a young age to survive.
ed does not really do any of the above. he doesn't say "sorry". he speaks in generalised language. he complains about the cat bell (which he seems to wear only for one day, given the implied timeline with lucius and pete's engagement). i have a model ship on a stand that says "this is a safe space ship" as a joke because i work for the government and have written press releases that sound just like ed's "apology". where you take no responsibility and encourage "the culture" to move on.
so, really, my question becomes: ed sees himself as a monster. in s1, we had enough balance between ed's current actions and his referenced past actions to see this belief as likely untrue. in s2 though — i mean, is it? is that an unfair or inaccurate belief? i can understand how carrying that belief can get in the way of ed's growth and eventual healing but like. from an outside perspective of ed-the-fictional-character. he's not a "good" person. he's capable of and has done and continued to do horrible, cruel things. ethically, can you argue with that statement about him?
re: ed trying to destroy relationships because of his self-worth issues and instead the consequences of his actions proving that he's loved.
this is the point that made me go: right, no, i need to respond. i need to say my piece about this. izzy and the crew suffering ed's violent tyranny and then sticking around on the revenge anyway afterwards is not a sign of love. it is not showing love to bear pain for someone. it not showing love to let someone mistreat you, threaten you, hurt you, maim you. their actions are selfish and done to give them feelings of power and control over you. lying back and thinking of england to get through it is not love. it is absolutely a survival technique. but it is not love when you do it at the expense of yourself or others.
i also disagree that ed was trying to push people away or break his relationships with others. we know from s1 that ed is fairly blasé about whether crew members die. again, we don't see any friendly or intimate exchanges between ed and any of the crew to imply any kind of relationship there beyond "tools who accomplish ed's goals". the one exception, as always, is izzy. and as previously stated, ed seems bound and determined, in a very conscious way, to bring izzy into death with him. ed does everything in his power to make izzy want to kill ed, or at least agree that it's best if ed dies, and to want to kill himself so ed doesn't have to die alone. that isn't ed breaking that relationship; it's making it permanent in a really fucked up shakespearian way. the only relationship we see ed waffle between wanting to keep and wanting to push away is stede. after his corporate "apology" and the fishing trip with fang, all of ed's dialogue is with stede and a little bit with zheng until izzy's death scene. the crew loving ed just isn't a thing, at least not one we're shown. not from either side. ed's relationships are with stede and kind of, sort of with izzy (because he does manage to, if not fully break, do some major damage to that).
love did not save ed. ed wanting to live, because stede came back, because he didn't want to jump off hornigold's cliff in the first place, saved ed. izzy saved everyone else.
so yeah: that's it; that's the post. the rhetoric that abuse is love or that abuse can be "cured" with love or that trauma isn't lasting and serious and has impacts on people's daily lives is just. wild. wild.
and terrifying.
my dad was born in the 40s. why is anyone born in the 80s or later still defending this mindset? it honestly, truly freaks me out.
guess it's good i have a fucking therapy appointment on monday.
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whoretan · 1 year
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ARK 45 | 02
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Summary: After what turned out to be an unsuccessful night, Jimin invites you over to his apartment where things certainly go in another direction.
WC: 3.5k
Play me while you read.
Pairing: Club Owner/Mafia!Jungkook, Hitman!Reader (ft. Jimin)
tags: um, so reader n jimin, yeah, fuckin against a window, slapping, dirty talk, murder and torture, possessive jimin???, jimin is a sadist, im sorry for what ive done, theres like 10% plot, 90% porn, reader will smash jk soon i swear
Chapters: 1 | 2 (ur here)
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The screams of ache bouncing across the wooden walls are only driving your frustration further. 
You enjoy hurting people, but tonight, you have no patience for the whiny asshole Jimin left you to deal with. 
And typically, you have the patience of a fucking saint. 
About fifteen minutes after you left ARK, Jimin texted you the geo-coordinates to a random location that won’t show up on any Google searches. 
Jimin doesn’t trust anyone but you to do his dirty work. So while he gets to pounce around the city like an angel in a suit, you’re stuck dealing with the tedious and messy portion of the job. Then again, it pays well, so, there’s no room for complaining.
“I’m about three seconds away from slicing your tongue off,” you warn. “And I don’t plan on being nice about it either, John.” 
“Jesus fuckin’ christ lady,” he cries like a little bitch. “Jungkook don’t tell us which warehouse he keeps the shipments in, that’s for the upper guys.” 
 John has about five seconds left before he goes knocking on God’s door. 
“So what you’re telling me is that you’re useless?” You deduce, grabbing his chin roughly to part his saliva-covered lips. 
“No, no, no,” he pleads. “There’s someone at ARK that can get you the information you want.” 
Sweat drips down his nose, mixing with the blood riddling his face. John’s bald, somewhere in his late thirties, and a whiner. He has a wedding band on his left hand, probably some kids too, not that any of it’s your concern. 
You’d already cut off two of his fingers, stabbed his Achilles heel, and are coming close to slicing his tongue off. Normally, you like to play this thing slowly. The slower the better, the more likely the chance of getting whatever unfortunate fucker landed in your hands to spill the information you need.
John cringes away from the knife, tears bubbling out from beneath his lashes. 
“Dude name is Tony. H-he’s one of the security guards. B-big n’ tall, huge snake tattoo on his face.”
You roll your neck, groaning as the muscles pop. It’s been a long fucking day, and you’re still wearing the damned hooker dress that Jimin had dropped off for you.
“Great, thanks,” you say casually as if you haven’t spent the past hour torturing him. 
His breathing calms, and he looks up at you through his dull, ugly eyes and hope radiates from them. You almost laugh.
“So, y-you’ll let me go, right?” he asks, staring up at you like a little kid begging for a toy. 
“Sure,” you say. 
“Are you serious?” he pleads. 
“No, John,” you grin. “I’m not.”
You swing your arm back and plunge the entirety of your knife through his temple. 
He dies instantly, slumping forward against the rope that bonded him to the chair. 
You slide your knife from his skull, the noise threatening to ruin your dinner plans. This is unfortunate because you’re really fucking hungry. 
The knife squelches against the skin, taunting and unwilling to leave the flesh. And sure, while you enjoy a good torture session, you don’t get off on the sounds that accompany it.
Typically on a night like this, you’d dismember poor little John and then dump his remains into the cremator you and Jimin keep at a warehouse off the grid. 
But, not tonight. 
You weren’t even supposed to be on the clock, besides the obvious shit show that happened at ARK. 
You sigh, pulling out your phone from your bra, and cringe at the sight of blood smudging onto the screen. It’ll be a bitch to clean later, so you wipe it down on your matching red dress. 
going home. going to light a cig first.
Light a cig being code for burning down whatever building you’re in. 
Shoving the phone back into your bra, you bend down to John’s level, searching through his pockets. Dude’s like him almost always have a smoking problem, and besides, the fucker smells like it too. Mixed with his own piss that is of course. 
Your hand lands on the familiar plastic and you sigh thankfully, one less headache for you.
There’s a vibration against the shell of your tit and you straighten your back, pulling out the device again. Jimin’s name is written in bold letters atop your notification center.
good. come by my apartment.  
Something inexplicably dark arises in your chest.
 Jimin never asks you to come over. 
You suck in your bottom lip, biting back a groan. Goodbye dinner it is.
Sure, why the hell not?
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A ping sounds, and the doors to Jimin’s penthouse apartment open. 
He lives fifteen or so minutes away from your own apartment, but on top of the already fifty-minute drive home from the barn— you’re not exactly thrilled by any account to be here.
He stands by the door, gaze entirely locked on yours and you can’t help but scowl. So what? It’s four in the damn morning and no human being should look this well put together at this hour. 
Jimin wears black lounge trousers, a low-cut robe with embroidered flowering, and that damned rosary he can’t seem to ever take off. 
“Come in,” he motions his head toward the inside of his apartment. 
You nod, locking in your bottom lip as you slip past your boss. A sliver of something that shouldn’t be so pleasant curls in your stomach— the smell of the deep and citrus oceanic cologne he always has on invades your senses. 
Jesus. 
The feeling is so strong and sudden that you exhale a breath to try and push it away. 
He steps into the apartment after you, and with a click, locks the door. This feels all too intimate. 
“So?” 
You blink.
“So?”
He sighs. “Jungkook.” 
Fuck. 
The chance of you admitting you performed a lap dance for Jeon Jungkook is zero. You’d cut your own tongue off before you ever admit that you might’ve slightly enjoyed it. 
You sigh. “He wasn’t in. I’m going to call the front desk tomorrow.” 
Jimin quirks a brow, and the playful tug to the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. He doesn’t believe a single word you just said. 
You groan and turn around, making a beeline to the cloud couch he had you order last year. You sink into the white cushion and moan at the softness that envelopes your frame, it feels like heaven on Earth. Soft as hell and a hundred times better than the one in your own home.
“Where’s the dress?” Jimin appears from behind you, the hint of that smirk still remaining on his face— just the slightest curl in his lips. His eyes travel over your body, and you feel the intrusion. 
You roll your eyes. You’ve changed into a skirt and long sleeve shirt. Not your best look, but it’s better than what Jimin deemed to be a dress. “I gave it to the hooker outside.” 
He chuckles and the sofa beside you dips.
A beat passes and then Jimin says, “I’m going to have to fuck the information out of Miranda.” 
You release a heavy breath at the sudden change of atmosphere. What the fuck is going on with him tonight? 
Turning your head to face your boss, you watch his tongue travel over his bottom lip. His gaze drops to your exposed legs, and you subconsciously clench your thighs in response. 
It’s too hot in here. Way too fucking hot. You have to divert the conversation somewhere else, somewhere where he isn’t devouring your skin like it’ll be his last meal.
“Jimin, is everything okay?” 
He doesn’t break eye contact but the darkness envelops his eyes. 
“No ___, it’s not.” He looks away momentarily to sigh, then meets your gaze again. “Jungkook wants me dead, and once he finds out about you he’ll kill you too. I just found out that he’s already on Hobi’s trail and now I’m gonna have to spend almost all my time playing prince charming for his annoying fucking sister when I just really want to spend my time fucking you.” 
Your breath hitches and you have to look away from the fiery gaze. Diverge. Don’t think.
Not once in your career has Jimin made any moves on you. Hell, before tonight you hadn’t even stepped foot into his apartment. The thought of having sex with your boss had been only a mere daydream on your first night on the job, never again.
“Jimin, I don’t think that’s a good idea.“
Without hesitation, he shifts closer to you, hand touching the bare skin of your lower thigh. “Why not? I’ve had people breathing down my fucking neck every day all week. I can’t even fuck anymore because I’m too paranoid they’re a spy Jungkook’s sent on me.” 
The confession has you blinking, shell-shocked. Since when has Jimin become this paranoid about Jungkook?
His body presses against yours, sandwiching you between him and the cushion. You stifle a gasp when he leans in and the warmness of his breath courses your lobe. “He knew who you were tonight.”
Everything stills, one second Jimin’s hovering over you, warm breath tickling your skin as your stomach does laps. The next, you’re pushing him off of you, sending him hurling off of the couch and backward. He regains his composure and inches forward again, like a predator about to devour its prey. He grabs both of your wrists to prevent you from clawing his eyes out of their sockets.
Your heart pounds in your chest. Jimin sent you into ARK when Jungkook knew what you looked like?
Holy shit.
Jungkook knows what you look like. 
He knew tonight and still had you grinding on his hard cock. 
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the hurricane brewing in your chest. 
Fuck, fuck. You’re going to lose your shit and possibly strangle your boss.
“I need you to calm down,” he grits against your hold, pushing his body completely onto yours, leaving you limp in his hold. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to see what his reaction would be.” 
You lock your gaze with his, anger dancing in all the curvatures of your face. You feel tiny and helpless encased in his hold. Even more, you’re surprised he has the strength to hold you like this, unmoving, unfaltering like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
What if Jungkook decided to kill you?  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 
He leans in, warm breath caressing your lobe. “Doesn’t it excite you? That he played along with your little game, Joanna?” 
“Jimin, I’m fucking serious, I—“ 
He’s so heavy on top of you, his chest moves rapidly as he presses further into you. You feel the apples of his cheeks rise against your neck, “Did you fuck him?” 
This is too much. Too much all at once. You’re suffocating in Jimin’s scent, his breath, his voice. 
You shake your head and close your eyes. 
“You wanted to though, right?” He whispers amusingly. 
He’s enjoying this. He’s bathing in your discomfort, the way your twitching against him, withering away from his hold, pushing your neck away, he basks in it. This should be wrong, it should terrify you. 
Yet, it doesn’t. His weight feels good, it feels exhilarating to lose control for once. To be the given instead of the giver, to have your freedom stripped bare. 
So, instead of screaming you confess, “Y-yes.” 
Jimin hums, sending a wave of vibration through your neck. He licks a strip from the bottom to the shell of your lobe, “And do you want me to fuck you, too?” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your mind draws a blank and the only thing that pounds through it is, yes, yes, yes. 
“Yes.” 
“What’d he tell you?” Jimin asks as he releases your wrists from his grip. You let them drop to the cushion without a fight. 
He doesn’t stand from the couch, instead, he digs his knee further into the space between your opened legs and straightens his back. When your eyes meet, his eyes are dark, low, and filled with an intimacy you’ve never seen before from him. 
“He said he doesn’t hire whores,” you sigh at the recollecting memory. The sounds of Jungkook’s laughter as he walked out of his office to call the guards fills your mind. 
It’s Jimin’s very own laughter that drags you back to the present. 
“How ironic,” He muses.
He’s terrifying like this, dominating you in every way possible as he looms above you. He undoes the piece of fabric keeping his robe pieced together and lets the sides fall. You flinch subconsciously when he raises his hand to grab your chin.
“Do you want me to fuck you like a whore, ___?” 
You catch your breath at the monster before you. It’s not the words that leave you breathless, it’s the sweet smile accompanying them. The same one he gives you when he walks into the building in the afternoon, or when he hands you a check after a mission saying you’ve done a great. It’s welcoming, friendly, and utterly fucking terrifying. 
This is a horrible idea. Slowly, you nod. 
“Good.” 
The sound comes first, then the realization. You blink repeatedly as your vision blurs, the impact so brutal it’s left you looking in the other direction. Then, the pain. Sizzling, stinging, and painfully hot. Your cheek will bruise, without a doubt. You moan. 
When you turn your head around to face Jimin his smile only grows, wider and wider. He pushes his knee further into your cunt, the friction bringing it alive.  “Again.”
This time, he hits the other cheek. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins, it pulses in every one of your nerves, and it sends your body ablaze along with it. The pain feels so fucking good. 
You want him to cut you open and eat you alive. 
Without another word, Jimin pushes his knee off of the couch, cracks his neck, and points toward the exposed windows, “Strip.” 
You oblige, following the command like a lost puppy. He backs away, giving you space as you push off of the couch and toss your clothes. Avoiding the intruding stare, you turn around and walk to where you know he wants you.  The air in his apartment is freezing, leaving you with hard nipples and goosebumps.
The windows are completely open to the world. 
Anyone in the other high rises will be able to see you. They can see you.  
The city’s beautiful, shimmering lights keep it alive in the darkness. In the reflection of the glass, you see Jimin stalking toward you as if he has all the time in the world. 
He stares at your legs, ass, and back, then he meets your gaze in the reflection. When he reaches your heel, his hands graze your stomach, and his lips meet the back of your neck in soft slow kisses. It’s when his hand pushes past your stomach and below your underwear that the ecstasy hits you.
He’s slow, painfully so, his middle finger slides through your folds and you feel teeth etch themselves into your shoulder. The cold metal of the ring grazing your clit finger sends a shiver down your spine, you release a groan and he bites harder on the flesh. 
He rubs your clit with two fingers, allowing you to savor in the warming pulses rippling through your cunt. Through the pleasure, you feel him pushing his hard cock into your ass, grinding onto the exposed flesh. 
You’re moaning like hell, unable to contain how good it feels to have someone dominating you, relishing in your body. He releases your clit and moves his fingers downward, instantly sticking two digits in your hole. The pain from how hard he’s biting into your shoulder, undoubtedly drawing blood, with how fast his fingers pulse in and out of you sends you into another dimension.
In the back of your mind, you hear the slow rhythm of The Weeknd’s song filling the air, transcending you back in time. Jungkook’s low growl and how hard his dick felt on your ass as you danced for him. 
The fact that you made him hard even though he knew who you are.
The fact that he wanted to fuck you regardless of the idea that you possibly murdered his father.  
He let you grind on him, feel all of him. 
He wanted you. 
You want him right now. Want to feel the swell of his cock again, hear him say those nasty arrogant words, and steal them from his lips. 
“Just like that,” Jungkook growls against your ear.
You open your eyes, panting hard, it’s Jimin who stares back into the reflection, smirking at your battered form. You’re spasming all over his fingers, pussy pulsing in a rhythmic beat as you orgasm. You’re moaning, hands pressed flat against the glass. 
Jimin doesn’t wait for you to finish riding the waves of your orgasm. He takes his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt clenching against nothing. You’re too occupied with calming your breaths to hear the fabric of his trousers tossing, to hear him his as he hisses when he uses the same fingers he used in you to wet his cock. 
You do, however, feel him push your thong to the side and the swell of his cock at your entrance. You’re so ready, you’ve never been more ready for anything else. It’s been two fucking years. God, you can’t fucking think straight.
“Fuck me al—“
The words are stolen from you when Jimin pushes himself into you completely, he doesn’t let you catch your breath, doesn’t give you time to formulate any words, he just goes. 
With one hand, he grabs the back of your neck and slams your face into the glass. The coldness of it feels good on your cheek, the mixture of the hard surface and the pounding has you grinding through your teeth, it’s too much. It encompasses you, filling you like nothing else in the world can.
Jimin fucks you relentlessly, pounding in you at light speed. He’s breathing hard, but he doesn’t stutter. The sound of flesh colliding with flesh fills the quietness of his apartment, you can’t help but moan. 
“The world’s watching you.” He releases your neck, quickly switching over to grab a bundle of your hair and yank your head toward the flashing city.  
It’s blurry, all over the place, and you moan like a whore for it. 
“Watch them,” Jimin growls. 
He’s fucking you faster than before, your stomach bubbles with the formation of a second orgasm. You can’t think, can’t breathe, you’re just taking. Taking Jimin’s cock as he gives it to you, as he takes everythingfrom you.
You close your eyes, and your head falls limp. Everything feels so slick, so wet. Jimin’s cock is easing in and out of you, his free hand grips your exposed boob, massaging it. 
“Open your fucking eyes,” He releases your tit, slapping it before grabbing your chin to face the world before you. “Watch them as I fuck you.” 
A muffled sound escapes you, he’s let go of your hair, exposed chest flat against your back as he continues thrusting. 
“You’ll kill anyone for me,” He says, voice wavering in pleasure, “I just need to say the name.” 
Your heart and head pound because he’s right. The second he says a name, the life has already been taken from them. They’ve been handed over to the Grim Reaper, and fuck, does Park Jimin own you. 
Every command is his, and every action of yours is done by his accord.  
Jimin’s hips are stuttering now, he’s mumbling something but you can’t get the thought out of your head, can’t hear the words.
You’ll do anything to fulfill his command. Anything. 
Your stomach coils, and your pussy pulses faster than before. You feel Jimin’s falls hitting your cunt with each thrust and it feels too good. It’s too good, too overwhelming. 
“Mine,” he moans, and then he’s stuttering, sloppily thrusting until he stops. He allows the milky liquid to spill into your cunt.
He continues to slowly thrust in you, pushing his cum further and further back into you. He’s claiming you. He’s fucking claiming you. 
Your head falls limp, forehead against the glass and you breathe hard. 
Jimin pulls out of you, hissing as the cold air envelops his dick. He slaps your ass and tugs his cock back into his trousers. 
You can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think.
Mine, mine, mine. 
Jimin’s words replay in your mind on an endless loop. His.
If you’re supposed to be his, then why can’t you seem to get a certain arrogant son-of-a-bitch’s face out of your head?
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Reply 2 be added. Ty for reading.
@callmejimmeo @jasminperez18 @yoon2jk @jungkookminthairwhen @emogyus @nochuntae @hopesflwr @jmnrl @dracujin @bbyjmmns @virgojimi @jikukker @dollbabyg @ieonkrive @iholdkoo @namaslaylife @mini-mouser22 @greetieweetie @ohyeakjk @sugatalus @kooikk @vanteskku @duskvk @ggukssluvrr @sweetempathprunetree @monilyv @jkoomimi @jessieeq1986 @koozip @jjkuteu @naaktj @kooliv @yourslut16 @luvrkoo @jamlesstars @purrbangtann @scientisterror @darkuni63 @prudyhoo @nochubabystarcandy @wonieeee @st3ft0n3s @manjir0 @mdibby
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devilishdelights · 5 months
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🌹
just a sentence is too boring so im giving a snippet <3 have some mean mammon ->
“Oi! It’s me! Th’ hell ya locked the door for?! Open up!” Mammon, your supposed guide to all things Devildom, shouts at the top of his lungs. You wince. 
Oh. 
You scramble to your feet, interrupting the beginnings of a new assault on your door handle by opening it a smidge. Only half of your face shows, and you squint at the onslaught of light. 
Mammon’s attention seems to perk, his head pushing forward, slouch straightening, and he gestures his hand at you. “Are ya tellin’ me ya ain’t even dressed yet?! Lords, Lucifer’s gonna kill me! Ya humans are so incompetent, I swear!”
You glare at him, then promptly shut the door in his face. 
Basked in the darkness of your room again, you head towards your bed – and jump when the door slams open behind you. 
“What the fu–” you begin, but Mammon interrupts you.
“Ohh-hohoho, ya gotta lotta nerve, human! Who d’ya think you are?” He snaps, and you turn to face him – but he’s already plopped his dandy ass at the end of your bed.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” you mimic. Immediately, you regret your words, remembering he’s a demon, he could kill you in two seconds flat, but he just lets out a snort.
The room is still relatively dark, and when you squint to focus on him, his eyes seem to have a hazy golden glow. Eerie.
Cool, but eerie.
“Ya blind or somethin’? Dumb too? Ya need me ‘ta help ya waddle ‘round on yer two feet?” His grin isn’t kind. It’s nearing sadistic, bullyish. 
“Jesus fucking Christ, dude,” you mutter in disbelief.
// not sure if i'll ever finish this wip, even though i have a lot of it done!! WIP is from a piece where MC/you decide not to go up the attic stairs! It's horror<3
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Text
Whoops Game Grumps quotes
Crash: Inside, we're all a bunch of sadists.
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Bob: No matter how hard you work and how big a celebrity you become, you'll never be as famous as cheese.
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Lily: And then.. *pulls the cord on the Beyblade* ..you let it rip!
Lil Coding: I got it! *tries to catch it as it spins off the table* OWW!!!
Lily: Why would you try and catch the spinning metal blade from another country?!
LC: I thought it was like a dredel— Yeah, I really should disinfect this cut..
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Mia, to Tulip: Wouldn't it be funny if you... lose a family member? Maybe two?
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Mario: I'm the video game boy! I'm the one who wins!
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Laharl: You can't open up the story of my life and just go to page 738 and think you know me.
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Bob: I've got.. no money.
Lily: Why?
Bob, muffling his voice: Because I spent it all on gambling...
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SMG3: You've gotta draw the line somewhere, you've gotta draw a fucking line in the sand, dude! You gotta make a statement! You gotta look inside yourself and say, "What am I willing to put up with today?
SMG3: NOT FUCKIN' THIS!!
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Zack: Listen to your elders or whatever.
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Abyssal: I'm making lemonade out of a bad situation. You know what I'm saying, ohh gotta add the sugar. Gotta add the goddamn ice cubes!
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LC: Dremind me to get my bag then.
Cody: Dremind you?
LC: Yeah, dremind me.
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Tartarus, showing Olypmus around TOTK: I just like walking through the world, man.
Olympus: I love it too.
Tartarus: Look at all this stuff we're explorning! *seeing something move out of the corner of his eye* What was that?
Olypmus: Explorning?
Tatarus, leading him over to what sees to be a deactivated Captain Construct: See, I wouldn't-
Tartarus, as the Captain Construct snaps and locks onto them: OH GOD ITS ALIVE!!!
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Ash: You speak Fran-ques! (Français)
Tulip, as she laughs: What????
----
Shantae: Okay, so. Tulip, can I share something with you from earlier today?
Tulip: What is it?
Shantae, pulling up a chat box: Well, I sent you a text early in the morning.
Tulip: Yeah?
Shantae: Because we needed to figure out some stuff for the upcoming meetups, what we're going to do, and all that. And so, I was so, I was like, "Do you have any preference whether we do it this meetup or the next meetup?"
Tulip: Mhm.
Shantae: Your response..
Tulip: *already laughing*
Shantae, trying not to laugh: At 9:30 in the morning; "Motherfucking Jesse Eisenberg Jesus Christ fuck dude motherfuckin Facebook movie bullshit Jesus can you fucking believe this shit"
Shantae: No punctuation. Random capitalization. So I respond, "I have no idea what we're talking about right now"
Shantae: 45 minutes pass, I get a text from you; "God damn created Facebook then fucking lawyers and shit right fucking Winklevoss twins god damn rowing the boat fuck yo shit I can't even fucking believe this shit have you seen this shit fuck I just watched this shit fuck Jesse Eisenberg man"
Shantae, as Tulip is on the floor, laughing: I respond, "Tulip, you're scaring me." An hour passes.
Shantae: You respond; "Motherfucking Spider-man Spider-man you put in the time fuck put in the time motherfucking built shit with this bare hands fucking best friend shit Jesse Eisenberg I'm very tired"
Tulip: *losing her shit laughing*
Shantae: So I'm just like, "No problem, Tutu. I'll let Ash know, and we'll do most of the talking for you today."
Shantae: Immediate response. I'm talkin' like 5 seconds later.
Shantae, barely containing her laughter: "No man I'll just talk about the Facebook movie all day shit man you have to be so interested in the shit I have to say about the Facebook movie fuck dude I just watched it a year and a half ago fuck Jesse Eisenberg man he fucked over Spider-man crazy Winklevoss twins rowing Trent Resin or did the soundtrack fuck this guy who invented Facebook I don't like dying I can't think of who the fuck invented Facebook All I can think is who played the guy who invented Facebook who the fuck invented Facebook"
Shantae: And then, in all capital letters, two hours later;
"MARK ZUCKERBURG."
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thatpunkmaximoff · 7 months
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Story: 5 out of 5 Smut: 5 out of 5
This is my first Harley Laroux book… and I LOVED it! It was interesting to see how the dynamic between Manson, Lucas, Vincent, and Jason worked, and I kind of regret not reading “The Dare” beforehand, but I think this book answers any questions you might have about that night.
I liked that these young men have had a crush on Jessica all these years, and vice versa, and that Jessica is finally letting her guard down and doing what she wants. Because seriously, that revenge scene against Alex, Danielle, Nate and all those other backstabbing jerks… perfection!
The cliffhanger wasn’t too bad, but I’m anxious to know how they’re going to deal with Manson’s violent father being back, and what exactly is going to go down when Jessica doesn’t owe them a debt anymore.
I need to crack open book two asap.
Now enjoy my thoughts throughout the book...
* So the cheerleader made out with the freak. I’m getting Eddie/Chrissy vibes lol
* Kyle is also giving Jason vibes. Fuck this dude already. I don’t like that he’s setting up Manson to be jumped.
* Oh so we started in high school for the first chapter and then jumped to after high school in chapter two..? Okay then.
* Another two year time jump for chapter three.. I like that the characters are being aged up haha.
* Lmao. Jessica would run into two of the boys while washing cars for a church. Oh god, yes! At least they know she’s back in town now.
* Lmao. They got the best car wash they ever could have hoped for 😂
* Goddamn. Vincent and Jason… okayyyy, I see you 😏
* Ugh. Seriously? Kyle’s buddies still act like they’re in high school? Gross.
* The tension between Jessica, Manson, Vincent, Jason, and Lucas. Holy hell.
* So the girl Jessica’s ex cheated on her with is now into bad boys and interested in Lucas? Let the girl drama begin.
* Oh I’m so glad Lucas won that race.
* Alex is a little bitch boy. They should have shot him. And Jessica!! You’re a goddamn fool.
* Wow. Fuck Jessica for going along with those “friends” of hers. I hope the boys make her grovel for what they did to the cars.
* Dammnnnnn. These boys are the “fuck around and find out” type 😏
* Uh oh. Using her body to pay off the debt she owes them for fixing her car… this isn’t going to end well.
* Jesus… Lucas making her give him a show with her vibrator.. 🥵
* Omg. Lucas and Manson were fucking around when they “broke into” Jessica’s place. Holy shit.. that entire scene..
* lmao. Lucas is not an aftercare dude. He was so awkward before settling in.
* So Manson’s dad is back in town? This isn’t going to go well, is it?
* Jesus Christ, Vincent! I’m with Jessica. I thought you were the sweet one 😂 You little fucking sadist.
* Cat girls lmfao. I can’t with Jason right now.
* They got her cum-drunk. Holy shit. What even is this book?! And now Jason and Manson are totally fucked. They’re in deep.
* Damn. Manson found out his dad was back in town on his own. He’s really spooked by that asshole, huh?
* Road head 😏
* Jesus… this book is pure filth. I love it.
* Manson’s dad is freaking me out- the way he grabbed Jessica? Oh hell no.
* Lmfaoooo. Yessss! Jason fucking Jessica while Alex could hear..? That’s my new favorite scene 😂
* Damn, Manson. You really cut your name into her ass cheek, huh? 😏
* Oh I’m so glad she finally stood up to Danielle! Fuck that backstabbing bitch. And the boys got their revenge!!!
* Lmfao. She took out Lucas first in paintball and now he’s pissed. He’s definitely gonna fuck her, I just hope he pulls in his temper.
* Bent over the school desk. I’m here for it lol.
* God. Manson’s dad is a dick. Can he just die if alcohol poisoning or something?
* Goddamn. I’m not normally a fan of MM scenes, but there’s just something about Manson and Lucas getting it on that is.. 🥵
* Oohhhhh. They plan to kidnap Jess and bring her fantasy to life..? WHERE’S BOOK 2?!
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lammfleisch · 11 months
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I just finished Mr. Sunshine and i feel sad and empty now.
What an ending. You are literally not human to me if you didnt cry at all the deathscenes. Jesus Christ.
I mean I expected the Yakuza? To kill Goo Dong-mae, but it made me cry anyways. Poor dude never had a chance in life. All he got was death at the end.
Kim Hee-sung had the worst death. You could see his head still shaking of all the braindamage. Fuck that japanese Soldier.
And omg Eugene ... that was so heartbreaking. He said he would do everything to save his love and he did. Can we please acknowledge that this was Lee Byung Huns best role EVER? Yes? Thank you!
And about this disgusting mofo:
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Mori Takashi is probably the most evil bad guy ever. That dude is everything you read about the imperialistic army of Japan combined in one person. He is sadistic, racist af, cruel ... the worst of the worst. The episodes with him were INSANE. The tension between Eugene and him was incredible strong? (Not sure if this is the right Word tho)
He went completely nuts. He IS completely nuts and obsessed with his power fantasy with Japan. That dude left an impression. I still cant believe they made him "crazy laughing" above a woman he killed, hanging in the middle of freaking Seoul.
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Easy the best Show i have ever watched in my entire life. It deserved every award it got and more
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nekropsii · 2 years
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hey wait a second thomas hewitt is a valid troll name
Yup!! He’s also literally the most Vriska-type Slasher to ever exist. It’s actually pretty interesting. I’m going to infodump about Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies largely unprompted, now. Should this be put on my literal dedicated Horror blog instead? Yes. But for now, it’s a relevant topic to this blog, so who cares.
Content Warning: References to/Conversation About Violence, Gore, Self Harm, and Cannibalism.
Ok. Nerd rant time.
His life sucks so fucking bad that you can really see how and why he got to where he is now, and you really want to root for him, but… He descends into doing some things that are so sadistic that you really get emotionally torn between whether or not you should like him, lol. Personally, I love him to pieces. He’s prime Leatherface. They really nailed down the core of what makes Leatherface such an interesting character, while also getting super dark, violent, and serious with it. I recommend his Timeline if you can stomach some pretty gnarly gore. And when I say pretty gnarly, I mean it’s really fucking gnarly. They went a lot farther with it than the Original Timeline, and the name Texas Chainsaw Massacre fits here more than ever.
I think the really heavy gore and violence suits it, though. The change from the Sawyers to the Hewitts definitely did the story well- the Sawyers are kind of hard to take seriously, they’re really goofy, and the bulk of their strengths as individual characters and as a family lie in comedy. This is why Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 is the best movie in the fucking world.
The Hewitts, though…? Jesus fucking Christ. Not only is taking them seriously not a challenge, they’re downright terrifying. Their shared overt sadism goes above and beyond whatever was going on with the Sawyers, and that sadism takes itself much more seriously. This shift in tone is best shown by comparing both of these Timelines’s versions of Leatherface.
Fun fact, for the uninitiated. Leatherface is often touted as the “Big Bad” of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. He is the iconic Slasher to come out of the franchise.
Now, what if I told you Leatherface isn’t who you should really be afraid of? Because Leatherface isn’t a “Big Bad” or anything. Yes, he’s definitely large- consistently clocking at over 6 feet tall, and built like a literal god damn fridge- and he’s definitely… Well, trying to kill and eat people, but he’s not at all the scariest person in the franchise by any means. Leatherface is designed to be kind of a sympathetic character, actually. He’s consistently a troubled disabled man who gets pushed around and bullied/abused by his family members constantly. He usually kills because he’s either scared, or ordered to do it.
You can see this the most in the first iteration of Leatherface, named Bubba Sawyer. Bubba is genuinely… Really fun to watch. I say this in the least infantilizing way possible, but he’s kind of adorable. He’s the softest one in the family, and acts as a “Mother Hen” type character. Despite his staunch loyalty to the family, they still really treat him like shit. He’s afraid of the outside world, because he’s been locked away from it his entire life. Threats to the family drive him into a panic, and if he fails to protect them, he spirals into a breakdown. He’s a sweetheart, if you ignore the whole “Murder and Cannibalism” thing!! I couldn’t fix him and I don’t want to, but god knows he’s a neat little dude.
Thomas Hewitt, on the other hand? He’s a different case entirely.
His backstory is fucked up, but very sympathetic. Mother died in childbirth, and he was thrown in a dumpster and left to die. He was then found by the Hewitts, who adopted him and raised him as their own. He has a pretty severe skin condition that led to him getting bullied really, really badly growing up, and now he has such a high level of self hatred that he’s noted to have a “penchant for self mutilation.” You can see his self harm scars in TCM: The Beginning, if you look. Him getting treated so horribly by everyone around him, as well as his family being… Well, the Hewitts, led him to develop a rather interesting trait for a Leatherface- actual real Sadism. He is so, so interesting to watch.
Sympathy is at the heart of Leatherface as a character. He’s never the worst person in the family by a long shot, and oftentimes is intentionally written in a way where if you take a moment to try to view the movie from his own perspective, he’s just terrified and trying to protect himself and his family. He’s desperately, horribly afraid of losing everything he’s ever known. He’s the only Slasher I’m aware of that acts not out of Malice, but out of Fear.
Tommy really likes to test that notion of Sympathy, and that’s why he’s so god damn fun to think about for me. Every element for a perfect Leatherface portrayal is there, they just took the aspect of Sadism in the entire family and cranked it up to fucking 100. I love this bitch so much. He does some severely fucked up things, but you almost want to root for him? They level the playing field really well by making the Victim Cast consist of genuinely pretty mean and intolerable people.
You want to root for the Final Girl, because the situation she’s in is genuinely fucked up to hell and back, but you also want to root for Tommy, because he’s been through the god damn meat grinder and you can tell he’s got no other choice… You don’t want to root for the Final Girl, because the Victim Cast consists of insufferable people, but you don’t want to root for Tommy, because holy shit some of the stuff he does is unnecessary. But also you do, because his design is so kickass it makes up for everything, but also you don’t, because his family sucks and doesn’t deserve to win, but also you do, because you want him and him alone to win. It’s complicated!! I’m absolutely obsessed with it.
Another Slasher with a valid Troll name is Leslie Vernon. I fucking love Leslie Vernon. Do not ask me about Leslie Vernon. Do not ask me about Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon in general. We will be here for several hours, and I’ve already reached my maximum amount of Horror Movie Autism for the day on this blog.
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jackals-ships · 13 days
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squishes vokun bc he actually appears in the main verse as well. similar vibes in both verses also
he's an argonian, any pronouns in a kind of "my brother in akatosh you will not live long enough for me to explain Argonian Gender to you. so I shant" type way which like mood. vampire also
him being the original vokun would Absolutely Fuck but i don't think it quite fits unfortunately in the Bigger Timeline? but he's like. second or third an the longest lived dragon priest by far. Legally Can't Die. he's just built different <3
mmmm swings him around. casual sadist energy. it's about the Vibes. the Energy. kind of? headstrong? stubborn? his way or the highway except it Will be his way or he's shoving you out the nearest window he doesn't have Time for your Fuckery !! he's got Shit To Do !!
leads to a lot of friction with the other priests? you kinda gotta learn to deal with him tho bc. Fucker Will Not Die. also unfortunately he's good at his job >:/ he has had A Lot Of Practice
mmmmmMMM not well Liked but Very Respected? his people won't rise against him bc there's no guarantee that the next priest won't be worse but that's not stoping them from going "Jesus Christ this dude? again???"
i like to imagine. he's not good at the whole. emotions and seeing ppl as ppl thing. he can halfway fake it but after awhile he's awkwardly peeling you off him like "okay that's enough crying you're getting annoying low-key. so just. stop -gestures vaguely- all of that :) pls and thank you." this is equal parts a vampire thing and a him thing imo
hmmmMM like Vicente he hasn't fed in Ages so he's like. i need to figure out how to draw it right. but he's giving off a vaguely mummified vibe? very "oh! that is a Literal Corpse!!" energy
he hangs out tho w the other vampires in the like. vampire bar,,, there's an area where you can go to Vibe and Feed that i also need to design. it's like. Not A Brothel Probably but also. similar energy- [I am taken off stage]
generally tho i feel he's very? isolated? he doesn't play well with others and Prefers it that way? but he also has a couple ppl that dote on and praise him bc gestures vaguely. dragon priest superiority complex. you gotta have some dudes to just sit there and tell you how smart you are
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icharchivist · 1 year
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what is even up with Hecate? jesus christ that profile
I KNOOOW it's genuinely embarrassing to read 😭😭
GBF is taking advantage of the fact the game is M+ rating now, i guess???? So far they mostly experimented what it meant with gore, heavy storyline, and sexy dude showing their balls and asses, and i'd argue whatever is going on with Narmaya's Light uncap, but that was it. Gore + heavy stuff + sexualization of already known (and loved by the fandom) characters.
But i guess it's another level of "well we can go full on sexual now" and this is what they came up with. It's so. It's so....
I've seen screenshots of how her character talk and by god. This is awful. I hate it 😭
i mean i guess it's a win for people who likes big boobs lady being sadistic and horny at the same time but i'm not vibing with it at all 😭
+ she's not even a primal??? She's classified as Others which. kinda raise even more question about what the fuck is her deal.
I guess i'll learn once i read her FE but i really don't want to 😭😭
@ Gbf bring back the balls i can't do it
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ravenwolfie97 · 3 years
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“Don’t close your eyes, you’ll miss it!”
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“Terror is such a thrilling ride.”
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“You should savor every second.”
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Stars Around My Scars
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*gif: not mine
Summary: The incident with Hotch and the hostage brings up some bad memories for Spencer, but sometimes you fate has a funnily little way of showing you the people that will draw stars around your scars.
Content Warning: Bullying (flashback scene), talk of Spencer's physical and emotional abuse from classmates, physical injuries, cursing
Word Count: 3,028
Author's Note: This idea just came to me! It's more on the angsty side, with a comforting/hopeful ending. This is also for Emily's 2K Challenge. You are an amazing writer and truly have a talent for crafting beautiful worlds. I hope this does your challenge justice. I love you to the moon and to Saturn @boldlyvoid
Stars Around My Scars
Spencer tries to forget the way his side aches as he not-so-nonchalantly limps to his car. He holds his side where Hotch kicked him. He might not have gone to medical school, but he’s read enough textbooks to know that he’s going to be bruised.
He’s used to his skin being covered in dark purples that morph into sickly green yellows. It’s been years, but those are the kinds of wounds that stick around for decades to come. But when they fade all that’s left is thicker skin and a tendency to walk around anticipating when the next hit is going to come. You don’t get used to your skin being a twisted tapestry for the sadistic. You don’t get used to the callus bullies and their vindictive taunts that become sharp punches. And you never get used to the lifelong trauma and the invisible wounds and those-- those are the loudest of them all.
Yet, his feet keep treading on the pavement. They keep moving despite the ache in his side and the gnawing in his heart. He tells himself to get home because it’s already pathetic enough being Spencer Reid, but being the FBI that cries in his car— he can’t go there.
So he goes home, alone.
Spencer hates the crowded hallways. They are loud and sweaty. He’s so much shorter than everyone that if he doesn’t walk fast enough the tide of long legs will carry him away. You’d think that being shorter would make you invisible, but in reality it only makes you a bigger target.
If Spencer had a magic lamp, he’d wish he was invisible. Maybe if he was invisible, his dad would have stayed. Or maybe his mom would suffer so much. After all, you can’t believe your delusions about your son if you can’t see him. And the bullies. If he was invisible, then they couldn’t hurt him.
If he was invisible than would be the bruises too.
But he’s very much not invisible. He walks down the hallway with his head low, trying to predict where the next taunt or punch might come from. But a punch, nor a taunt comes, but a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re that little twerp, right?” the boy says. He looks older than Spencer, which of course he is because everyone here is older than him. He has a wispy mustache that resembles leftover dirt more than it does hair. But that’s something Spencer decides to keep to himself.
He also decides that it’s better not to answer his question. It’s always better not to answer their questions, because he learned early on that everything comes at a price.
“I’m talking to you, you little shit” the boy says, practically grabbing Spencer by the shoulder and dragging him over the empty corridor.
Spencer doesn’t say anything, because he’s learned that it’s better to say nothing.
To be seen and not heard.
“Alexa’s asking for you,” the boy tells him, “she told me to tell you that she’ll be waiting for you by the goalposts,”
“What?” Spencer asks, unsure if he actually heard the boy correctly.
“Jesus Christ, they said you were like a fucking genius or whatever,” he curses, the words making Spencer’s eyes go wide.
“Look dude,” he tells Spencer, “I’m going to be straight with you, a pretty girl says she wants to see you alone, you go. You hear me?” the boy finishes, running off into the now empty hallway.
Maybe for once in his life Spencer can be seen and heard.
***
As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t want to be heard. Or seen.
His arms arch and he knows that the rope that’s tightly wrapped around his hands will leave marks. He can’t tell what time it is because they put a blindfold over him. If he’s honest with himself, he’s grateful for the blindfold. It’s dark underneath it — like nighttime. He can pretend that this is all a horrible dream. He can pretend that his mom will hear him whimper out for her and maybe she’ll hold him as he falls asleep. He can pretend, if it’s dark enough, that this isn’t happening.
But no amount of make-believe will make him forget this. He’ll always remember Alexa’s merciless laughter when he realized she didn’t want to see him. Or the boy’s taunt once they saw him walking across the football field. Their glee when they ripped off his button up shirt, the one that Spencer mended himself, will be imprinted in his mind, even though he couldn’t see it.
“Look at him, he’s even skinnier than we thought”
“Are you sure you’re a dude?”
“I almost feel bad, I mean look at him?”
“Fucking freak”
“Weirdo”
“Just leave him. He’s not even worth the trouble”
Spencer wished that he didn’t have a perfect memory. If he didn’t have a perfect memory then maybe this day would fade with the other bad days until it was nothing but a fuzzy hum of his past. But it will forever be as sharp as any of his memories. The good and the bad. For a second, as he’s strung up on the goalpost freezing cold, he lets himself pity himself because the bad memories outweigh the good.
The worst part is, when he finally gets himself down, he has to keep on pretending that he’s not hanging by a thread.
On the way home, Spencer stops at the mini-mart a couple blocks from his house. He gets two things: a pack of chocolate donuts that were going stale so they were on sale and a calendar. He eats the stale donuts in the safety of his bed while he marks the calendar, desperately hoping that when he can leave this awful place will come.
***
His apartment is always quiet and dark, but it’s just like he left it. Whether it’s dirty dishes in the sink, books cluttered on side tables, or week-old laundry in the bathroom, everything looks the same.
Spencer always tries to be quiet when he walks up the creaky staircase. The fourth step makes a ear splitting sound that’s sure to wake up even Mr. Stevens. It’s the one thing that’s stuck with him into adulthood: been seen, not heard.
He can see that, even now, in the way that he stops himself before he gives his input on the profile. All he does is try, he tries to be good at his job without causing too much trouble. But he’s waiting for the day when they tell him he’s too much. Maybe that’s why he pretended that Hotch kicking him didn’t hurt him as much as it did.
He’s never been a natural, but damn does he try.
Spencer turns on the kitchen light, before looking into his microwave for his stash of chocolate donuts. He sits at his small table, which is hardly enough room for two people, and eats his donuts. It’s too late for coffee, but he knows that he probably won’t be sleeping tonight anyway. He convinces himself to try at least, but then the doorbell rings.
He walks slowly to the door, thinking that it’s going to be Mr. Stevens complaining that he walked up the stairs too loudly. Or Mrs. Patel telling him she watered his plants while he was gone. Either way, he doesn’t expect to find Y/N standing out in the hallway when he peers through the peephole.
Throwing caution to the wind, he opens the door. Y/N looks just as tired as he does, which Spencer supposes makes sense. They did just spend the whole day chasing down a serial killer hellbent on making himself infamous. The adrenaline rush can only last for so long. It’s easier if you don’t go home to a dark apartment and stale food.
“Y/N, did I forget something at work? I mean I’d get it another day. It’s fine, really—”
“You didn’t forget anything, Spencer,” she says, shouldering her go bag. It looks like she came here directly after leaving work.
“No,” Spencer responds, knowing that he didn’t leave anything at work, “I didn’t,”
“I didn’t think you should be alone. Not after today,” Y/N says quietly, standing still in Spencer’s doorway, “no one does, Spence,”
“I don’t know what to say?” Spencer says, unsure of what to say. He hates that he can feel his hands shake with nerves, but it’s impossible when she’s so close.
“Let me in, Spence. Please just trust me,” she asks him, taking the step forward into the entryway. She might be taking a step toward, but Spencer knows she’s practically leaping into his heart and he’ll try his best not to fuck it up.
“Okay,” he says in a breathless breath. It takes a lot to trust someone, especially when that someone is the someone you desperately want to trust.
“Good,” she says, slipping her shoes off and plopping her bag down on his floor as easy as if this is actually her home too.
“I- uh, Y/N you know you don’t have to be here, right? I mean, what I’m trying to say is that I uh, I-I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here with me because—”
“Because we’re almost-kinda dating?” she finishes with a smile that can only be described as wry, “Spence, I’m here because I want to be here. And I want to be here, because I like you, a lot,” she answers, kissing his cheek as she ducks down into the hallway.
Spencer touches his cheek, wanting to feel her in its wake. But he knows kisses don’t work that way. His breath is shaky, just like his hands and knees as he walks into the kitchen. Y/N is there, looking glowy and bright even in the horrible kitchen lighting. She moves around his kitchen easily, some home knowing exactly where everything is. It would be so easy, so easy to have her fit into his life and watch it become their life. It would be so easy if he wasn’t Spencer Reid with a nasty habit of messing good things up.
“Yeah, I mean I like you too, so much,” Spencer whispers, matching her tone. He sits down at the table, that’s now somehow perfect for two. Y/N sits down next to him, reaching her arm out hers is twisted around with Spencer’s. They’re intertwined in the silence with only the hum of the refrigerator to fill the void. The quiet isn’t lonely with her though, it’s comforting. His apartment isn’t dark and empty with someone else by his side.
“How’d you know I’d need you, Y/N,” Spencer asks, rubbing his thumb along the bumps of her knuckles. Her skin is soft, Spencer wonders if she’ll let him use her lotion. He washes his hands so much that his skin is cracked and dry, begging for moisture, “how’d you know that I needed help?”
“First of all Spence, I know you better than you think. And second, give me some credit, we have the same job,” she answers, leaning her head against his chest. He can feel the vibrations from her voice as she speaks, beckoning him to her shores, to her safe harbors.
“Am I that transparent?” Spencer asks, feeling his face flush as he realizes that the rest of the team must know he’s hurting, if Y/N knows. Yet they're not here, and she is.
“No, you’re. But there’s only something that you can see if you’re looking,” Y/N says, kissing his clothing-covered shoulder, “I know Hotch hurt you, Spence. And I know it’s not the first time something like that happened to you,”
“But it’s the job, it’s my job,” Spencer tells her, gripping her hand tighter, “and I’m not a natural at this Y/N. I’m not like you or Derek. I can’t apprehend an unsub, I can hardly use a gun, and have you seen me run? This is my job, Y/N. And I have to try. I have to belong here because if I don’t, I’m not really sure who I am,” Spencer rushes out, saying the words he vowed to never say before he gets too scared to never say them again.
“You’re more than your job, Spencer. And just because it’s your job doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt,” Y/N says, breaking his grip on her hand to rub his back gently. He winces as she touches him, his back and sides tender from getting kicked.
“Sorry,” Spencer says, closing eyes as the pain from his side shoots up around him. She lets go of him, dropping her hand to her side, “It never gets easier,” he mumbles.
“What never gets easier?” Y/N asks, reaching out again to hold his hand.
“Getting hit or kicked,” Spencer answers, “and I know Hotch didn’t mean it. I mean, we had to get out of there but—”
“It still hurts” Y/N answers, filling in the gaps in his sentences just as if they shared the same wavelength, “I don’t need to be a profiler to know that it hurt you, Spence. I just have to pay attention to you,”
A new sensation spreads through Spencer. It crawls up his face and weaves down his chest. It festers inside him and he suspects it’s always been there, waiting to be ignited. He feels Y/N’s hand on his shoulder, yet he doesn’t flinch. He knows that this touch won’t hurt. This touch just might heal.
So he lets it heal. He lets his cheek touch the back of her hand that rests gently on his shoulder. He lets her wrap her arms around his body and hug him. He lets her hold him like he’s never been held before.
“Can I tell you something? I've never told anyone this before. Not even my mom knows,” Spencer says, he can feel his cheeks flame at the thought of rejection. Of all the times he’s tried to make connections with strangers, all end up with him pouring his heart out in a faithless endeavor.
“Of course, Spence,” she says, quietly threading her fingers through his hair. The ease he feels from his head to his toes contrasts the heaviness in his heart.
“I got bullied in high school,” Spencer says, “I mean I got bullied in college and even at the Academy but they were all adults so is it even bullying or is it just me at that point? Anyway, it was really bad in high school. I was only there for 2 years, but being that young in a public school. It was hell, Y/N”
“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m so sorry that kids can be terrible,” Y/N says, rubbing tenderly on the nape of his neck. Her hands give goosebumps in the wake of her touch. The goosebumps is something that doesn’t leave scars on his skin, “and you were a little kid,”
“One day, uh this older boy, a senior, I think. He came up to me in the hallway, and everyone knew who I was. I mean, how couldn’t they. But, anyway. He told me that Alexa, she was the prettiest girl in the whole school, wanted to see me. I was 12, Y/N. I thought that she liked me. I know it’s pathetic-”
“Oh, Spencer,” Y/N says, placing the tiniest kiss on his neck. He feels tingly on his neck, all the way down to his fingertips, he wants to give into the sensation, but he continues.
“Uh, she didn’t like me. None of them liked me, but what they did like was laughing at me,” Spencer says, he pushes through, despite the crack in his voice, despite the lump in his throat, and the stingy salty tears in his eyes, “they, uh, undressed and tied me to the goalpost,”
Spencer stops, letting his words fester in the silence. He’s never said this aloud, maybe out of fear that if he says it, it means it actually happened. Spencer hasn’t had someone who he can trust this with, until now. Y/N doesn’t say anything for a second, like somehow she knows it’s what he needs.
“Thank you, for trusting me, Spencer. That’s terrible what happened to you, and those kids. There’s a special place in hell for people that get pleasure and kick out of tormenting little kids. I care so much about you, Spencer,”
“I don’t believe in a god, Y/N, but god, what good have I done in the world that led me to you?” Spencer whispers, thinking that some omnipotent being has to be controlling fate because no one could be this lucky.
“You’re a sweet, kind man. You’ve my hero and I know that one day, I’ll love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” Y/N says, wiping the corners of his eyes.
“You...you make me feel special and good and all these things that I still don't have the words for yet— good things… things I never thought I deserved to feel.” Spencer says, turning around so his head rests against Y/N’s chest and his arms wrap around her waist.
They stand like that, her holding him close as he breathes in deeply. Y/N caresses his head, her fingertips pushing his stray hairs from his forehead. She lets him hold her tightly with his fingertips brushing against her back. Y/N holds Spencer like he wanted to be held all those years ago.
“I think that uh, what happened today, it brought up those bad memories,” Spencer says, hating that he feels guilty for being reminded of a past he’s tried so hard to run from, “and I don’t like thinking of my past,”
“It’s a good thing then, Spence,” Y/N tells him, sitting down on the chair next to him, but not letting go of him yet, “it’s good that we have all the time in the world and that you have a perfect memory. Because, that my dear, is a recipe for a life filled with the best memories to even out, the bad ones,”
***
Taglist (link to be tagged)
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248 notes · View notes
rizubaby · 3 years
Text
Danganronpa V2 Kinks & Headcanons | males.
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genre ; nsfw headcanons.
summary ; my interpretations / headcanons for the boys from SDR2; what they're like in bed and what I think their kinks are.
tags ; mentions of various kinks / vulgar language.
note ; these are just my personal interpretations of the characters. Some may not agree or have other headcanons, which is fine. To each their own. ♡
This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.
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Hajime Hinata
Hajime would definitely be a bit of a wild card. He's open to almost anything. Whatever you're into, he's willing to try it out. You pretty much never know what kind of mood he's in.
While he certainly likes slow and sensual sex, he does also like to be rougher, especially when he's irritated or in a bad mood. He would just pin you down onto the bed or against the wall and fuck your brains out. When he needs to blow off some steam, you're always willing to let him take it out on you.
He likes receiving head, but loves giving head as well. Just having you tremble beneath him from all the orgasms he's given you right before he'll blow your back is just *chef's kiss*
He's not one to talk much during sex, but he adores your sweet moans and when you beg for him. When he's in a really bad mood though, he'll call you degrading names and throw some swears in here and there, just because he can't fathom how good you make him feel.
Kazuichi Souda
He loves being praised. He'll do anything to make you feel good. Can be kind of goofy, but takes pleasuring you very seriously. He likes when you take control, but only because he's high-key a simp for you. He can dom too, but he's a gentle dom.
Also really into voyeurism. He loves watching you pleasure yourself. He thinks you're SO beautiful. Your ass is probably his favourite body part. Slapping it, squishing it, anything. Teasing him would result in him turning as red as a tomato, probably. Just know that all that built up sexual frustration will come out later.
Would probably die from a nosebleed if he saw you walking around in just your panties or in his clothes.
Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu
Loves to be in control. Adores it when you give him head and swallow his cum or lick it off of yourself when he cums on your face or your tits.
I imagine him to be very into dd/lg stuff too. He'd call you "baby" or "my kitten" a lot. He loves it when you call him "master", for obvious reasons.
Swears a lot when fucking you. If you were being a brat, he'd punish you for it in all sorts of ways (and secretly loves it, though he has to pretend he doesn't). Whatever he's in the mood for, really; putting a collar and leash on you and drag you around, make you sit on his dick without allowing you to move, edging you, etc.
He would feel comfortable letting his guard down around you. While he likes having rough sex, he loves it when you're good to him and show him that you love him. Little kisses, playing with his hair, caressing his face... He'd melt.
Gundham Tanaka
Oooh, this man.
He's such a good lover. He'll make sure you feel comfortable and loved, and he'll call you sweet names like "my queen", "sweetheart" and "darling". Tells you you're beautiful a lot. Sensual sex is the way to go, no matter what pace.
Even if he's fucking you into oblivion (or into hell in his case), he'll still ask if you're okay and he'll praise you so much. Things like "you're doing wonderful, my love" and "hold on just a little bit longer sweetheart". He loves marking you, showing everyone that you're his beautiful queen.
This man definitely has a breeding kink. They call him the Ultimate Breeder for a reason.
Nekomaru Nidai
I'm not even going to lie to you, this man is A BEAST. Jesus Christ, the stamina on this dude.
With his height and physique, there's bound to be some size difference. And he LOVES it. He loves seeing you struggle to fit all of him inside you, it all adds to his ego.
He's VERY loud, and loves to hear you moan and scream too. While he's not even that rough in bed, because of the size difference and how big he is, it might as well seem that way. His stamina is through the roof, so you'd eventually have to call it quits yourself before you literally pass out.
Being the Ultimate Team Manager, he knows how to praise and encourage you. He'd have to be extra careful not to literally crush you sometimes, which is why he prefers positions in which you are on top. Again, being able to see you struggle really does it for him.
This may not come as a surprise, but he definitely has the biggest dick out of everyone. I mean, look at him. Come on now.
Nagito Komaeda
Definitely a sadist, like I don't know what to tell you.
He'd be sweet one second and a fucking asshole the next. He gets off of humiliating you and calling you names. Loves tying you up too, often using either rope or handcuffs.
This guy doesn't have a limit when it comes to kinks. Toys, edging, degradation, bdsm, torture, you name it. He loves it when you grab him by his hair too.
He wouldn't be one to top much, instead letting you take the lead. Sit on him, step on him all you want, he doesn't mind (in fact, he loves it). Masochist much?
Nagito would absolutely be into breath-play. Letting you ride his dick but simultaneously holding you by your throat would literally make him go crazy.
494 notes · View notes
bruhstories · 3 years
Text
Burnt Toast
Summary: You and Eren started on the wrong foot.
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Historia x Ymir
Warnings & Content: enemies to friends to lovers, language, fingering, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, sadist!Eren, a lot of dirty talk, corruption kink, weed, hate fucking, loss of virginity
Word Count: 4.6 k
A/N: This was not supposed to be a smut. I swear it wasn't supposed to be one.
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"Jesus Christ!" You jolted up from your bed, the excruciating sound of the fire alarm waking you up from your tranquil sleep. Hastily, you grabbed a hoodie, key card and phone, and walked out, joined by fellow students on the same floor as you. The procedure was simple — evacuation, even if it was a false alarm. And so, you evacuated, finding yourself in front of the building along with some fifteen other people, waiting for the security guards to stop the hideous sound that pierced through your eardrums and into your brain. Your legs shivered in the cold, early November wind as you looked at your phone. Three in the fucking morning.
"Honestly, if I catch whoever woke me up, I'll kill them." You said, mostly to yourself, hands in pockets, gritting your teeth.
"Um, that might've been me."
You almost got whiplash from turning your neck at the culprit. Next to you stood some dude, his man bun and handsome features contrasting with the pink fuzzy slippers in his feet. He was most definitely a stoner by the looks of it, or just a very odd person.
"You triggered the alarm?" Your voice resentful and annoyed.
"Yeah, sorry about that." He rubbed the back of his head with a nervous smile. "I accidentally burned my toast. I'm Eren, by the way. Eren Jaeger." The man extended his arm.
"Eren, huh? Fuck you and your toast, Eren." You slapped his hand and stomped back inside now that the alarm stopped ringing. The bed was welcoming and you sank into the mattress, quickly drifting back to sleep, despite the little incident that ticked your nerves.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
You tossed and turned in your bed, under the soft red blanket, desperately trying to fall asleep. It wasn't the fire alarm this time, but some shitty party thrown by some shitty person who completely disregarded the concept of silent hours during working days. Surely, they could've waited until Friday. You threw the covers off of you, shoving your feet into some boots, unaware of the location of your flip-flops, and walked out. No wonder it was so loud, the party was literally across your door. You knocked. Nothing. With a deep breath you kicked the door three times until finally someone opened it.
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me."
"Hellooo!" Eren sang, the skunky smell of weed filling your nostrils. "Came to join the party?"
"You really like pissing me off, don't you, Jaeger?"
"Ah, you remember my name! Please don't snitch." He pouted, reddish eyes and turquoise irises looking back at you. You scoffed at his face, nose scrunching.
"I don't care if you hotbox yourself, but, please, turn the music down."
"You got it, babe." He flashed you a wink and a shit-eating grin and you rolled your eyes as a response. "G'night!"
"Fuck off." You slammed the door of your bedroom, grateful that your accommodation didn't have sharing kitchens and bathrooms, otherwise you'd turn yourself over to the police after murdering Eren. You mulled over his fascinating eyes and handsome features and slowly, the music dissipated. Huh, maybe he wasn't such a dick after all.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
Or was he?
"Not again..." You groaned, exiting the dorm. Luckily, this time you were prepared, barely arriving home after a night out with Historia, literally the only person you befriended since October. The alarm rang continuously as you climbed down the stairs of your building, impatiently waiting for it to stop so you could take a shower and relax. Lo and behold, Eren popped out, sweatpants and an unzipped hoodie over his bare chest.
"Let me guess, you forgot to close the bathroom door." You concluded, arms folded across your chest and not even bothering to spare him a glance.
"Yep." He made a popping sound at the last letter, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Naturally. I'm seriously starting to think you're doing this on purpose." You mused.
"And what if I am?" Eren shrugged.
"Then we'll meet in Hell, it'll be my turn to torment you."
"And what if I'm doing it just to see your cute face?" He asked, and you couldn't do anything about the blood that rushed in your cheeks. "You gotta give it me, that was smooth."
"Is this all you do? Smoke weed, trigger the alarm and pick up chicks?" You walked back into the building and he followed you like a puppy.
"Did it work, though?" Eren elbowed you, proud of his little compliment.
"Really, it would be so much easier if you just knocked on my door rather than pissing the entire floor off."
"I never liked the easy way, but I might give it a shot some time." He told you right before you closed the door to your bedroom.
Knock. Knockknockknockknock.
"What is it now?" You tried to hide a pathetic smile behind the door.
"Hi, stranger. I'm Eren and I'm trying the easy way."
"God, you're unbelievable-" A finger creeped over your imaginary boundaries and pressed onto your lips, stopping you from talking.
"Shhh, play along." He sneered. You sighed.
"Hi, Eren, I'm Y/N Y/L/N." You playfully rolled your eyes. Ugh, why did he have to be so annoying and adorable at the same time? Unfortunately, you weren't here to mingle with other students, you were here to study, get a degree, make your parents proud and go back to your hometown. The only reason you befriended Historia was because you didn't want to be completely lonely and the two of you instantly clicked. But guys? They were off the list.
"Can I get your number?"
"Good night, Eren." You closed the door, locking it. It wasn't that you didn't like him, but he'd most definitely be a distraction and you needed to be a bitch to keep distractions at bay. Besides, your parents would never agree with you hanging out with someone like him.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
(1) New message from Historia:
Hey, girl. Are you free to grab a coffee in an hour?
Thumbs hovered over the keyboard and you pondered the question, still in your pyjamas. You really needed to finish an essay, but... a coffee wouldn't hurt.
Only if we go to the library after that.
You sent the text and got up, following your usual routine of brushing your teeth, splashing cold water on your face and putting some mascara on. It was darn cold outside, the freezing December gust hitting your cheeks the moment you stepped outside. Fortunately, you were smart enough to layer up and walked to the Stone Roses cafe, where Historia was already seated. You queued up, only a couple more customers in front of you, and bought yourself a nice, warming toffee latte.
"You look like you haven't slept in a year." The blonde pushed the chair next to her for you to sit.
"Yeah, well, remember that guy who triggered the fire alarm?"
"What did he do this time?" Historia asked as you sipped your beverage, careful not to burn your tongue.
"He triggered the fire alarm. Again." You chuckled.
"My goodness, he's either too high or doing it on purpose." She remarked and your cheeks flushed crimson, hoping your friend wouldn't notice. Too late. "Y/N... What happened last night?"
"Nothing happened! Really, nothing happened, we just... talked."
"Uh-huh, sure. You talked. Come on Y/N, you're almost 20 years old. Don't you think it's time you got a boyfriend?"
"Me? What about you?"
Historia's smile faded as quickly as it appeared, her eyes drifting away from you and to her mug.
"That's actually why I wanted to talk to you. I'm starting to like someone."
"Oooooh, who's the lucky guy?"
"Girl." She blankly corrected you and your heart sank. Not because Historia just came out, but because you knew how difficult her parents were. "I like a girl. And you know my family... you're the only one who can relate. Everyone has such cool parents, but ours are just so..."
"Uptight?" You quirked your brow and sipped some of your latte.
"I was gonna say backwards but I guess that works, too." The blonde smiled bitterly. "I'm just so tired of being the perfect daughter, you know?"
"Oh, I know. But screw them, tell me about her!"
Ymir was the complete opposite of you and Historia — she was fiercely independent and a fighter, she didn't take shit from anyone, and she was ready to throw hands with whoever disagreed with her. Kind of like Eren, you couldn't help but think.
"She wants to take me to the movies and I wanna confess, Y/N, I really do, but I'm scared."
"For what it's worth, we'll be spending the next three years here. Don't waste this opportunity. Besides, it's your damn life!" You encouraged your friend, hoping that your words mattered. "Oh, no, he's here." You ducked your head.
"Wait, Eren? Eren's your crush?!" Historia exclaimed, a sheepish smile creeping up her face.
"He's not my fucking crush." You turned to your friend, palm not so subtly hiding your face. "How do you even know him?"
"He's friends with Ymir! Hey, Eren! Come sit with us!" She waved the man and your eyes widened.
"You little... bitch."
"Morning, ladies."
"Hi!" You spoke a little too eager and too quick.
"What's up?" He sat down, eyes scanning the rectangular menu on the table.
"Not much, but honestly you stopped by at the perfect moment." Historia sweetly smiled, but you knew what she hid behind her innocence. "I gotta dash and I didn't want to leave Y/N alone. Byeeee!"
The incoherent sound that came out of your mouth as your friend left was enough for people to turn their heads at you, further embarrassing you. The desire of never answering Historia's text consumed you. But you stayed.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
The campus was empty during Christmas break, but you decided not to visit your parents, despite being lonely. They were pleased with your choice, as always, only focused on your grades and never on your wellbeing. Head buried in between books, you were somewhat content with your choice. The library was never this deserted during the semester and you made use of the plenitude of books that haven't been borrowed, zealously finishing essays and doing extra work. It was getting dark outside, and with stacks of books in your arms, someone bumped into you, the impact making you fall on your ass, papers flying everywhere.
"I'm sorry!" You mumbled, mad at yourself for not paying attention.
"No, it was my fault." The stranger told you. "Oh, Y/N! I didn't think you stayed here during winter break." Eren crouched and helped you pick your books up.
"Oh, well, my parents didn't want their biggest disappointment to come home." You shrugged.
"Yeah, same." He scrunched his nose and you chewed your lip, slightly heartbroken at his words. "Hey, do you, like, wanna spend Christmas Eve together? Most of my friends are gone, and I know Historia's gone, too. We could watch Home Alone." Eren elbowed you, almost making you drop the freshly stacked books.
"It depends, do I have to get you a gift?"
"Well, duh! What's Christmas without gifts?"
"Fair enough. You better get me something nice then, Jaeger." You smiled, turning on your heels and leaving.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
"I hope you like your present." Eren winked, handing you a poorly wrapped box. God, you were worried about its contents. "Go on, open it!"
"It's so nicely... packed. I wouldn't wanna ruin it."
"You're a terrible liar, you know?"
"I know." Fingers tore at the festive wrapper, smile plastered on your lips. "Holy shit, Eren, I can't accept this." You bluntly told him, eyes glued to the limited edition tarot pack in your hands.
"No refunds."
"How did you know?"
"Historia told me you've been eyeing it for a while." He plopped on his bed.
"Great, now I feel an idiot with my stupid gift."
"Bullshit, I'll be the judge of that."
You handed him the gift bag that rested on the floor. Eren took it with shiny eyes, like an eager child, and pulled out a leather jacket with his favourite band on the back.
"Do you... like it?"
"Like it? Y/N, I fucking love it!" He jumped up from the bed to try it on. "And it fits like a glove, too!" An arm looped around you, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Can't- breathe-"
"Shut up, you love it."
And you did, you really did. But it was just a friendly hug, nothing more, nothing less, you lied to yourself.
"Can we watch the movie now?" You pulled back.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it right here." Eren handed you his laptop and the familiar logo of the porn website you'd so religiously use to disconnect from reality hit you in the face.
"Um... weren't we supposed to watch Home Alone?" You asked with rose-tinted cheeks.
"That is Home Alone." He told you almost confused.
"No, that's the porn parody."
"Wait, there's an actual movie called Home Alone?"
You erupted into laughter, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Eren was completely oblivious to the real Christmas movie and you would remember and cherish this moment forever.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
Exams were a bummer, but you pulled through. You haven't seen or heard from Eren since everyone came back from winter break, the reality that he only needed you when he was lonely hitting you like a brick to the head. You were pissed, but you couldn't afford being distracted and decided to confront him after your final exam, at the middle of January. You'd occasionally hear his door open and close — he was alive, that much you knew. Historia told you he'd been hanging with Armin and Mikasa, his two best friends since childhood and you knew you couldn't compare to that, but once the exam was over you practically rushed back to your accommodation to talk some sense into him. The closer you got to his door, the louder the moans of some girl became.
"Oh."
Defeated, you walked back into your dorm making sure the door was locked before you stripped and blasted the hot water over your body.
"I don't like you. I don't!"
Knuckles met with the tiles in the shower.
"Ow."
How stupid were you to believe he gave two shits about you platonically, let alone romantically? Petty, bitter and naked, you turned your laptop on and blasted the angriest music in your playlist, music your parents loathed, music that represented to you.
"Go ahead and fuck her now." You told yourself and pulled out a notebook from your drawer where you'd written a pathetic bucket list for your time in university. Fuck Eren. Fuck your parents. Fuck whoever questioned the real you.
"Let's see." Your eyes scanned the list. Number 1 — get an industrial piercing. Number 2 — get a tattoo. You turned the volume down and called Historia.
"Hey, is Ymir still working at that tattoo parlour? She is? Great."
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
Valentine's Day was close and you had to stop yourself from throwing up whenever you passed by anything pink or heart-shaped. Your exam results came back and you were more than pleased with them, even your parents praised you, surprisingly. Your tattoo and piercing healed up nicely. Everything was going great, except for one little thing. Eren fucking Jaeger. You stumbled across his Instagram one night and, lucky you, it was public. You obsessively scrolled through the tens of pictures before locking your phone and slamming it onto the mattress. Ever since then, you'd sometimes snoop through his photos, looking at his stupid face. Tonight was no different, headphones over your ears, you scrolled and scrolled until that shitty I Wanna Be Yours song started playing.
"Nope!" You skipped the song.
Somebody to Love.
"Hell no!" Skip.
Wicked Game.
"Nah, fuck this."
Out of bed, you thought about going downstairs for some fresh air and with a nod, you grabbed your jacket and got out. From the corners of your eyes you saw a tipsy Eren stumbling down the hallway to his room. Shit. You couldn't go back inside.
"Hi, Y/N-"
"Fuck off." You walked right past him and headed straight to the staircase. You didn't spend much time outside as you didn't want to freeze to death and when you reached your floor, he was still there, back leaned against the off-white wall of the hallway.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Oh, now you wanna talk." You snapped back, fingers gripping the doorknob.
"Look–" Eren hiccuped.
"No, no, you don't need to justify yourself in front of me."
"But-"
"Silly me, thinking we could be friends."
"I-"
"I'm just a nobody who happened to be lonely during Christmas-"
"Y/N, would you just listen?" He grabbed you by the shoulder, giving you a small shake. "I wanted to talk but I got caught up with my exams-"
"What, you study?" You mocked the man and he seemed to wake up from his inebriation.
"Is that really so surprising?"
"...no." Now you just felt stupid.
"I wanna make it up to you."
"How?"
"Do you like board games?" Eren mused. You nodded. "Great! How does Friday night sound?"
"Sounds good."
"Perfect. Historia's gonna be there too, along with some of my friends."
"Um, be where exactly?" You trailed off.
"Probably Armin's." He replied, and you only knew him from from Eren's Instagram. "I'll pick you up at 7?"
"We literally live across each other."
"Play along, Y/N." And you smiled, unable to hide it this time.
"Alright, pick me up at 7."
"It's a date, then!" But before you could say anything, he was already inside.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
March was close to an end and you'd spent an enormous amount with Eren in February, either going at Armin's for board games, pulling all-nighters at the library, texting each other late at night or just walking together for your lectures, his chemistry ones, your linguistic ones. But come March and he started avoiding you again, despite your petty tries to text him. It was unbearable, the hot and cold friendship you two had. This time, though, you needed to confront him. Swinging the door open, you heard it again — the moans and dirty talk, and it infuriated you to the point you were ready to kick the fucking door down and wrestle that bitch. Were you going to do it? No. You were better than that. When he first texted you after a period of ignoring you, you were eager to respond. You didn't. When he knocked at your door at 1 am asking you to talk to him, you didn't open up. When he called you twenty times in a row, wanting to hear your voice, you didn't answer. When Historia wanted to convince to give him another chance, you dismissed the offer. You were done with this bullshit. You were done with him.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
It's been a long time since someone accidentally triggered the fire alarm. It was only natural it had to happen again. This time you didn't even flinch at the sound, idly rolling off the bed and stomping outside, hoodie over your silk camisole. He was already there, you'd seen him before your eyes drifted somewhere else. Eren approached you, seeing as you had nowhere to go, and you pretended he didn't exist.
"Talk to me."
Nothing.
"Please."
Nothing.
The alarm stopped ringing and you walked back inside with him following close behind. You unlocked the door, walked inside and slammed the door, only for it to be stopped by Eren's foot.
"Get out, Jaeger!" You threw your hands at him, wanting to beat the living shit out of the man, but he easily caught your slender wrists.
"Killer tattoo." He snickered, his thumb gently rubbing the inky marking on your skin which you haven't shown anyone other than Historia and Ymir.
"Are you deaf?" You growled at him like a rabid dog. "I said get out!"
"Not until you listen to what I have to say." Eren brought your wrists to your sides, but it only made your anger worse.
"Why?" The question was coated in sorrow. "So you can shit on the third, fourth, fifth chance I'm giving you?"
"Y/N, just shut up and listen!"
"No! No, Eren! I don't understand you and I don't think I want to anymore." You pushed him, rage giving you more strength.
"For fuck's sake, just listen!" The brunette leaped forward and crushed your lips into a kiss. You could feel a blood vessel bursting on your forehead and raised your arm, pushing him again.
"Are you seriously losing it?"
"I fucking am! Why do you think I've been avoiding you?" Eren's fist connected with the wall, the fairy lights above the impact zone dangling from the swift movement.
"Excuse you?"
"You heard me. I've been avoiding you because you're driving me nuts! I wanna be with you but I know how destructive that would be for you!"
"Fuck off with your bullshit!" You spat at him before he pulled you back into a hungry kiss. Slowly, you were beginning to feel overpowered and defeated, yet you still fought back, slapping Eren across his cheek. "I'm so sick and tired of your shenanigans, Jaeger!"
"That makes two of us." Calloused fingertips grabbed your chin, digging into your soft skin and squishing your lips. "God, you're beautiful."
"Oh, pweesh!" Your palm tried to meet with his face again, but he dodged it, tilting his head backwards and then bringing your face closer to his.
"I wanna ruin your goodie two-shoes reputation." Eren's tongue brushed over your lips and you were melting in front of him. He released the grasp of your chin, his hand lowering and hovering over your neck.
"Why did you avoid me, then?" You jabbed your fist into his abdomen and he backed off with a groan. "And I want a proper answer this time."
"I fucking told you, Y/N! I like you but I know I'd be bad for you!" Eren explained himself.
"I can decide for myself if you're bad for me or not!" You forcefully poked your index finger into his chest. "But you could've just told me, talk to me!"
"Didn't I try, you crazy fucking woman?" He pinned you to a wall, hand roaming your body.
"Oh, so it's my fault now?" Your hands started moving on their own, desperately tangling in his locks.
"I never said it's your fault!" His hand snaked under your white camisole, cupping your breast.
"You fucking implied it!" Manicured fingernails dragged down his nape, goosebumps dotting Eren's skin.
"You're crazy." The man whispered into your pierced ear, sucking at your earlobe.
"And I despise you..." Your voice trailed off, weakly moaning under his touch.
"Good, because I'm sick and tired of you creeping into my head." And he knew the only way to solve this was to have you all to himself.
"That makes two of us." You mocked him, your hands now at his belt, hastily undoing it. Eren wasted no time in taking his shirt off. Still mad at him, you pushed the brunette onto the bed and clumsily, rapidly climbed on top of him, starving to feel him inside of you. "I hate your fucking face."
"Is that all you've got?" He cooed at you, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he pushed his sweatpants and boxers down, displaying what you so passionately yearned. His strong hand grabbed you by the neck and turned you over, his body hovering over yours. "You're such a pain, Y/N."
"You're an asshole!" You cried out, your fingers tugging at the waistband of your white panties which Eren practically ripped off of you.
"I know." The brunette hungrily bit into your thigh, bruising it in the process. You both fought for dominance, both wanting to be in control, but he was just so fucking stubborn that you gave up when two fingers entered your soaking cunt. "I knew that would tame you." Eren sneered, his fingers dancing between your slick folds, pumping in and out of you. "Filthy slut."
You completely submitted to him. Mind, body and soul, you yielded, eagerly fucking yourself on his fingers.
"Greedy fucking bitch." He added another finger, stretching your silken walls and earning a lustful moan from you.
"F-fuck me! Please, fuck me like you hate me!" You asked — no, you begged.
"I do hate you." He lied.
"Then do it, please!"
His hard cock, glistening with precum, slowly entered you and pain instantly shot through your body, unaccustomed to the feeling. In his frenzy, Eren disregarded the fact that you were a virgin, only thrusting deeper until your teeth dug into his shoulder, drawing blood.
"Shit, I forgot-"
"Don't fucking stop!! Do NOT!" You demanded, tears in your eyes as he pounded into you. You were in pure bliss, the pain only making you want more.
"You little masochist." He sneered, pleased with the new information. "You like pain, huh?"
"Yes! God, yes!"
"Good." His hand squeezed your neck harder. "Because I love inflicting it."
You didn't know exactly how much time passed, and frankly you didn't really care at this point. All you cared about was him rearranging your insides with passion.
"T-take-"
"What's that?"
"F-from b-behiiiind-"
"You want me to fuck you from behind?"
"P-please!"
Eren pulled out of you to grant you your wish. Turning you over, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up.
"Look at yourself." He thrusted back into your cunt. "The perfect, innocent, hard-working daughter taking my cock like a bitch in heat."
With droopy eyelids you glanced in the mirror and, embarrassingly, you loved what you saw. You loved the way your tits jiggled with every movement, you loved the way your mouth slightly opened in extasy, you loved the way he fucked you silly, you loved him.
"Harder, p-please!" Eren removed his hand from your hair and gripped your hips harder, thrusting with so much force you thought his dick would obliterate your uterus.
"You're a whore."
"I'm a w-whore!" You repeated absentmindedly.
"You're my whore. Say it!"
"I'm y-your whore!"
"Good. Now rub that pink clit of yours. I want you to cream on my cock."
Obediently, your shaky fingers reached the oversensitive area. The friction was immeasurable, the release was even better. Every inch if your body hurt like a motherfucker and Eren pulled out. He didn't let you catch your breath, also longing for his sweet release.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and help me finish?" He asked but you knew it was an order. You nodded and spread on the bed, face up at the edge of the mattress. The brunette quirked a brow at your position and shoved his hot cock down your throat. Knowing you've never done this before, he allowed you to use your hands. Just this once. You sloppily sucked, clueless as to what you were doing, and he was so close just by your innocence. And you felt it — his pulsating cock. Your hands milked him and the hot white liquid covered your palms, lips and chin. Curious, you licked it, nose scrunching at the bitter yet salty taste.
"You'll learn to like it." Eren promised between chuckles.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
You absentmindedly scrolled through your playlist trying to find the perfect song when you inhaled the smell of burnt toast.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You darted to the kitchenette, quickly pulling the plug out and desperately trying to get the bread out of the toaster, eventually succeeding. The fire alarm started, and you were ready for the walk of shame you so strongly refused to take. You found Eren outside in the crowd of neighbours, eyes glued the ground, too embarrassed to look at him.
"It wasn't me this time, I swear." He lifted your chin up and kissed you on the forehead.
"It was me." You admitted with a whisper.
"Babe, really?"
"...yes..."
"Burnt toast?"
"Burnt toast."
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coweggomelet · 3 years
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i apparently enjoy putting down my thoughts on the off chance someone will read it and enjoy it so here’s rwby rewatch vol 3. i’m ready to be sad!!
(note: it’s long i’m sorry, i have many thoughts and i tried to narrow it down but oh boy do i think im funny)
- the SOUND DESIGN. AGAIN
- ruby you’re so precious. so sweet. so eager. so earnest. c’mere and i’ll protect you from all the bad shit that happens to you later
- hi cardboard cutout tai
- i keep getting an ad for a rooster teeth show called camp betrayal and the way this man says “hoo hoo hoo” will haunt me for the rest of time
- oh shit the fact that it’s called amity has such insane implications for what it’s used for later. jesus.
- “bffs!” “No.” “…/yessss/” love them
- yeet the yang
- god ruby’s admiration of emerald is so sad in retrospect like… oh boy ruby you’re in for it
- PYRRHAAAAA I LOVE YOU DONT LEAVE ME
- “even if you know how a story ends, that doesn’t make it any less fun to watch” wow cinder are you psychic
- ummmm they’re having a talk can you please respect their privacy
- thor whomst??? i only know nora valkyrie
- BROODY MAN
- hiiiii gavin
- so much mid battle banter. in the middle of a big important fight they just have to make jokes and argue. i love teenagers
- SILENCE YOU BOOB
- awww winter you’re a disaster and you’re horribly emotionally repressed because of your bitch ass dad but jesus christ you care about your little sister and you wanna know she’s doing okay and i’m emotional about it
- PENNYYYYY my love just keep being you
- jeez i forgot how early on ironwood was talking his shit about being “someone who will act”, the “only person” who will do what needs to be done, as if his course of action is what needs to be done
- every single person who underestimates emerald and mercury gets so fucked up. like so many people look at these youngerish teenagers with some funny one liners and banter and go “oh they seem capable and they’re confident and funny so i like em but i can take em” and then absolutely get the shit kicked out of them. and i think that’s why they’ve been so successful, cause nobody takes them seriously enough to consider them a threat.
- see this is why i love rwby. coco just turned her handbag into a gatling gun and cut down a field of grass with it
- god the way they hint at emerald’s semblance before fully showing what it is. *chef’s kiss*
- winter marry me
- we love an uncle who absolutely destroys his nieces at video games
- “they do and they’re called silver!” ruby i love you
- top heavy. heheh
- this dude’s weapon is a trumpet!! she’s got glowing nunchucks!! i love this show!!
- this battle music is AMAZING what the FUCK they’re fighting to JAZZ
- cinder if you keep having vague ominous dialogue people are gonna get the wrong idea
- oh yeah great idea asking a child to take on immense power which sends her into a stressed out panicky spiral and alienates her from the people she finally feels legitimately connected to and for once didn’t feel alienated from
- oh fuck. oh fuck the finals. oh god. oh no.
- she’s so happy. she’s so ready to have a good fight. i’m gonna cry
- FUCK
- and with one moment, the entire show flipped on its head
- god when i watched that the first time i fuckin freaked. i was not prepared man. i was warned. but i was not prepared for this much of a fucking tone change man. that quickly. like tone changes (in my experience) normally happen gradually, but this one happened in, what? 30 seconds?
- fuck
- god this is so bad
- and it GETS WORSE i can’t do this
- love that we can see yang’s distraught eyebrows through her bangs
- after this episode was the first time my friend asked me “how we doing buddy?” and i’ve only wanted to kill her more since then
- oh god emerald’s backstory. this poor child. she was so alone and cinder was there and said i can give you a place i can give you a purpose i can give you security and emerald latched on so hard.
- hiiiii laura bailey i wish you had more than a lil baby line and some sounds of effort
- god that little anklet
- god what a fuckin backstory episode man. backstory? evil plan explanation? idk but it was good
- great parent move. telling your kid you’ll only save them once.
- jaune you sweet good boy. what a good boy. i love him
- god this poor child. she doesn’t deserve this. FUCK i’m so sad. is that the last conversation they have?
- oooooh shit this song is so good. what the fuck i have chills it’s so fitting
- god everyone else is so happy and excited and then there’s ruby who is one of the very few people who knows how bad a fight between penny and pyrrha could be and pyrrha who’s got to decide if she wants someone else’s aura smushed with hers, which could turn her into a different person. FUCK
- peeeennyyyyy “salutations!! it’s an honor to meet you!” it huuuurts
- it makes me so sad but damn was this a good diabolical plan
- god im so sad. penny is so good. and pyrrha’s fuckin eyes. and ruby just collapsing. jesus christ. it’s all fuckin falling apart
- oh fuck here we go. those klaxons are so terrifying
- it makes me so happy that torchwick gets rescued and then like maybe a couple episodes later just gets swallowed
- the fuckin adam fight is coming up too. jesus. really piling on here
- RUBY IS USING ONE OF PENNY’S SWORDS IM GONNA CRYYY
- and she doesn’t even hesitate to save pyrrha
- the one and only time (to my memory) that ironwood is gentle is when he says no one would blame the students if they left. that might be the last time he actually remembers that they’re all teenagers and feels sympathy for these children with all this pressure on them
- oh yeah the big boy
- the first time i watched this i was LOSING MY MIND this whole time. like yang attacked mercury and from then on man. just freaking out.
- eurgh grimm juice
- c’mon blake you got this. i mean. technically you don’t. the fight goes poorly. but you fuckin try and you’re so brave about it and i love youuu
- shut the FUCK up adam you GROOMED her you ASSHOLE
- aahhhh i love velvet!!! her semblance and her whole fighting style is so goddamn cool and has such interesting implications for using weapons and powers of people who are dead
- OH SHIT SHE DOES SUMMON HERE DOESNT SHE. partly but still
- get fucked, torchwick. GET FUCKED. get fuckin chomped
- a backhanded slap feels so much more violent than any fighting with weapons
- uh oh evil katniss
- god. the fucking blood splatter turning the whole shot red. just their silhouettes. the slow motion. the arm slowly separating.
- my friend was also a big fan of “how we feeling?”
- bad. the answer is bad you fuckin sadist
- oz is… a lot of things, and one of them is a goddamn good fighter
- oh god oh noooo she’s gonna kiss & yeet AWWWW FUCK this is heartbreaking
- pyrrha i love you
- if i don’t look it’s not real
- oh pyrrha my love
- awww hey tai. what a good dad. love tai
- i’m so sad. everyone’s so sad. and then salem just has to do an ominous lil monologue where she lays out her whole plan to divide them and makes a fuckin semblance pun. she’s such a good villain
- jacque you stiff bitch
- they’re all fuckin scattered and depressed
- love team rnjr tho
- there she is. god what an ending
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dumbgothbunny · 2 years
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Ya know one thing I dont understand is why people on the internet see something that they don’t like and just blow up about it.
Like I’m sorry dude but if you see someone say something you dislike or don’t agree with or ain’t your kink, then like- fuck off? Don’t say anything? Ignore it and move on? Why waste energy on it. Idk if it’s because the fan base is younger, or just more immature.
I’m going to tell you guys something you ain’t gonna like.
People are going to say/do/thing/enjoy whatever they want to. It’s also important to remember that the world of fiction is fiction. It’s not real. And ALSO you should really learn that if someone online says something you don’t agree with it’s okay. Instead of blowing it out of the water and create this whole issue that now I have to be forced to see because some randoms got pissed off at a joke or whatever is just like, stupid and annoying.
Like legit go on with your life because why does it matter. Stop junking up what I see with bullshit posts and share some actual content for the love of Jesus Christ of Nazareth
Also, and this is the biggest thing-
Why is a fandom of people who play a romance game about sadistic vampires who, do way worse things than make a joke about calling someone big brother :v
Like bro. If THAT is what triggers you than you shouldn’t be in the fandom because you obviously know nothing about the content lol
Any asks about this will probably be ignored ngl I get I’m kinda doing the thing I said not to do but y’all it’s just so annoying to see over and over
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