#like just 'he would not fucking say that' on repeat

[queer-n-here]

Omg imagine Chuuya using his ability to ride you harder

Oh my fucking god, what writer's block?

This just blew me away for no reason at all, bro what?

Contents: Chuuya using his ability while riding you.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, marking, riding, daddy kink.

Chuuya was far from satiated.

He had been riding you for a while now, back dripping sweat as he grinded down on your cock for the nth time, breath uneven and sped up, eyes filled with tears that had not yet fallen.

His naked body was moving in a way so slutty you had to grip his waist and leave marks on his skin to remind yourself that he was real, here, and not a dream.

His dishevelled hair stuck to his sweat-covered forehead, his lips chapped and bloody from your rough kisses and his own teeth. There were bite marks all over his neck, chest, torso; you hadn't left a single inch of his pale skin untouched.

You were sitting back against the headboard of your shared bed, Chuuya in your lap as he bounced wildly on your cock, loud ah-ah-ahs echoing around the room as sounds of skin slapping skin almost drowned them out. His fingers were gripping onto your shoulders for balance, gripping so hard you knew he'd drawn blood with his blunt nails without needing to look.

But it wasn't enough, wasn't enough, just WASN'T.

Chuuya suddenly glowed black, his trembling thighs outlined by the glow that seemed to come from every inch of his skin. You felt the weight on your thighs increase suddenly, and he sunk down so low on your dick that even your balls were embedded into him.

"Fuck, Chuuya," You gasped, fingers digging even deeper into his skin as he grinded down on your cock again, using his ability to take you even further.

"Ngh!" Finally, your tip hit that spot that you could find so easily in him.

Ecstatic, he did it again, hips eager and wanting, eyes finally dripping tears. He cried out as he sped up, his movements somehow even wilder, the only thoughts in his head ways on how to chase that pleasure.

"F-fuck yeah," Chuuya gasped, jaw loose. "Ah, feels so good, [Name]!"

You hardly had the breath in your to speak, what with him going to town on your cock like it was his last day on earth, clenching so hard around your cock you saw stars.

"Such a little slut, Chuuya," You managed to say somehow. "Using your ability like this, heh, who would have thought? You like it that much?"

And he nodded in response, eyes glazed over. "Daddy's little slut. Only yours."

Your eyes widened, and then you chuckled, pulling Chuuya close and letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck as he continued assaulting your cock. You knew full well he would rather admit to being short than repeat his words once he could think again, but the moment was raw, and so you decided to push him a little more.

"Daddy's slut, huh?" You murmured into his ears, your hips rising to meet his half-way through. "Such a good slut, taking all of my cock so well. You sure know how to please daddy, don't you, Chuuya?"

He nodded, arms wrapped around you so tight it was as if he was afraid you'd leave without cumming in him.

He was trembling all over now, and even with the assistance of his ability, his movements had gotten sloppier. You knew he was close, so you reached forwards, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.

When he came, ropes of come shooting out of his dick, he collapsed almost immediately against your chest, panting. You kept going, thrusting up into him for your own orgasm, and he let you.

Once you'd painted his walls white, you slowed down to a stop.

Chuuya refused to get off of you, so you let him lay on you, cock still buried deep into him, even though his ability had withdrawn.

A moment passed, and you let him catch his breath.

You planted chaste kisses all over his face, making him smile softly, eyes closed. There was a big mess where you two met that you knew you had to take care of, so you carried him to the bathtub. Even when you sat down in the water, holding Chuuya in your lap, he hadn't let you pull out of him.

For a while, there was a comfortable silence.

Then, "So... Daddy, huh?"

As you burst into laughter, Chuuya smacked your shoulder weakly, ears red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Fuck off," He mumbled, burying his head deeper into your shoulder.

"On a more serious note, though," Your smirk faded into a soft smile, and you peeled him off of you just enough to look him in the face. "If you're into that just tell me, hmm? I don't mind."

Your voice was so quiet, and your expression so gentle that even Chuuya couldn't bring himself to deny it. Yes, he was into it. And yes, he was very, very embarrassed about it.

So he said nothing, choosing to return to the crook of your neck instead, and you let him. It was a silent conformation, the best you could get out of him.

#dom male reader #top male reader #bungou stray dogs #dom reader #sub bsd #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub character #sub character x you #sub chuuya x you #sub chuuya

[kafkasmuses]

KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago. 

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 

ahem. 

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 

you blink at him, once, twice. 

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything. 

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right? 

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 

“whatever helps,” you remark. 

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 

“with tennis?” 

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 

“like your wife?” 

“like you.” 

art corrected you. 

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 

“what?” you frown, confused. 

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 

“what do you mean?” 

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 

“ready?” he hushes out. 

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 

#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson challengers #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist smut #mike faist challengers

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You think you remember. Or at least you’ve convinced yourself that you do.

You go through the painstaking steps as the dark presence looms across the counter. The man walks along, just on the other side of the machines as you steam the milk. Toffee nut, yes, you’re pretty sure that was it.

You put it all together, step by step, hands shaking. Your lips move as you talk yourself through your work silently. You can do this. You still feel how the man scratched you through your shirt when he grabbed you, your skin fiery.

You give one last look to the foam and send a prayer up to whatever deity will hear it. You slowly move to the till and place the cup down. You wet your lips and clear your throat.

“Almond, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” you declare, voice quavering as you stare at the bristle across the man’s upper lip. “Mr. Hansen.”

He clucks and leans on the counter, hooking one foot behind the other. He wraps his hand around the cup and slides it closer to himself. He stares down into as you fidget. You glance around at the baked goods.

“And a cinnamon bun?” You suggest but before you can carry through on the offer, a splash of liquid washes over you, hot despite the layer of steamed milk.

“Oat milk,” he crushes the empty cup in his large hand and throws it at your face. You sputter and blink as the foam drips down your cheeks.

“Sorry, sir, I’ll make it again.”

“Fucking right, you will, sweet lips,” he growls and stands straight, crossing his arms.

You pull the bottom of your apron up and wipe your face. You bend to pick up the empty cup and turn away. Your eyes sting and you wiggle your tingling nose. It’s fine. You can do this.

Oat, half blond, half regular, toffee nut, cinnamon on top. The smell of espresso and syrup clings to you as you make the death march back to the till. You set the cup down without a word.

Mr. Hansen, Lloyd, the boss, whatever he is, considers you as he lifts the drink and examines the careful leafy art in the foam. He turns it and inhales the scent, some of the foam catching in his mustache. He takes a breath as if about to dive into water and has a taste. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. He hums. Does he like it?

Splash.

Another searing dousing and you stand there with a gasp, shaking off the dredge of his displeasure.

“Mr. Hansen, I--”

“First thing’s first. Shut the fuck up. You talk too much,” he tosses the cup. Bonk, right off your forehead. “Second, I changed my mind. Get me a mocha. Extra whip.”

You nod and keep your head down. You pick up the cup and stand, nearly slipping in the puddle around your feet. You dispose of the empty cup and go to the coffee machine. You begin your new task, hands clumsy and trembling. You add the whipped cream and return to the till. You put the cup down and grab onto the counter to keep from sliding through the liquid at your soles.

He lifts it and you wince, bracing for another deluge. He repeats the same deliberate examination. You swallow tightly as he samples your work. This time he doesn’t make a noise. As he lowers the cup, you flinch and take a step back.

He cackles, “relax, cupcake.”

You stare at him grimly. You flick your lashes and blow out your nerves. You hide your shaking hands behind you.

“Now you know who the fuck I am,” he says, “clean yourself up and get back to work.”

He grabs a package of the cookies along the small shelf beside the till then turns on his heel and struts to the door. You watch after him, damp and dripping. As the door opens and closes, you turn to face the mess. You sigh and go to grab the mop; you can clean the floor but you can’t do much for yourself.

You work at soaking up the excess then spray cleaner on the floor and wipe with paper towel to prevent it from getting sticky. As you work at sopping up the errant droplets from the counter, the door behind you swings open. You glance over your shoulder as Bre sweeps through.

“Alright, your turn--” She stops short as you face her. “What happened?” Her face slackens with dread and shock, “what did you do?”

“It was Mr. Jansen—Hansen,” you correct yourself, “he came by and--”

“I told you not to talk to him,” she hisses.

“I... I didn’t have a choice. He wanted a drink and--”

“Fuck. Fuck! What did he say? What did he do?” She snaps.

You recoil at her accusatory tone, “he... he threw coffee in my face? He took some cookies? I don’t know? He just... said now I know who he is. I didn’t really understand--”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”

You frown and cross your arms, “I’m sorry, Bre, I did my best--”

“Not good enough. You think it’s all fun and games. It’s not. That man is dangerous. Not just here, everywhere,” she shakes her head, “you’ll see. Out there, on your own. Give me your apron.”

“What?” You murmur.

“Get out. I’ll call Maurice and let him know it didn’t work out.”

“What? No, you can’t--”

“I am. Give me your apron. Now.”

You pout and sniffle. You reach back behind you and unlace the apron and lift it over your head. You hold it out to her, “it’s wet--”

“Just go.”

You hang your head and turn away. Your eyes begin to stream before you even get through the door. You grab your stuff from the backroom and give one last look around. You got fired. What are you going to do?

You fold your jacket over your arm and sling your bag from your shoulder. You let yourself out into the alley and head down to the street. You stop at the end and cover your face, sniveling behind your hands as you lean on the brick. You don’t want to go back home. You only just got there.

“Whatsa matter, sweet lips?” The low drawl is followed by a loud slurp, “bad day?”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the man #au #drabble #mob au #series

[sl0t4matt]

Marc Guiu and reader making up after an argument pls

m. guiu | into it

ik hector doesn’t have his license yet but here he does ok?! also sorry i got carried away and wrote smut :o

warnings: toxic relationship, smut, not proof read

“are you actually fucking kidding me, marc?” you scoff, grabbing your things ready to leave. you were sick of his shit. sick of him taking his anger out on you when you did nothing but support and be there for him. how could be so mean? you understand that him loosing a game would get him upset, but making it seem like it’s your fault, when he should’ve been the one to kick the ball in the net is just not fair.

“yeah run away, like you always do when it gets tough.” he walks after you, shrugging his shoulders. “marc, don’t you take your shit out on me, because the both of us know it’s literally not on me you can’t kick a ball.” you shake your head, clearly having enough of your boyfriends whining. “fuck you can be such a-.” he stops himself before saying something stupid. “yeah, no we’re done. don’t even try to call me because i won’t come back. i mean it this time.”

you walk out the house, catching marc’s sister on the way. “hey, what happened, i heard yelling, are you guys okay?” she gives you an concerned look, probably noticing the tears that have been building up in the corner of your eyes.

before you completely break down in front of her, you decide to give her a nod, before leaving. you couldn’t believe marc. he has gotten mad about his team losing many times, but it has never been this bad. sure you would fight, it’s just something that was part of your relationship, but maybe that isn’t so normal after all.

you were both toxic playing stupid games with each other like how to make the other jealous. you loved it, the fights, the trouble. it’s what kept your relationship entertaining, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.

just fucking great! now you have to walk home. you go to walk on the other side of the street, when you suddenly hear a honk, making you jump. you turn to see hectors car stopping beside you. “shit, you scared me! what the hell are you doing here.” you sigh, shaking your head. “came to take you home.” he answers. “i’m f-.” “just get in the damn car, y/n.” hector interrupts you. you roll your eyes, walking to the passenger seat.

you wouldn’t have needed him to drive you if it wasn’t so dark out. “did marc tell you to drive me?” you ask, looking over at him. he doesn’t reply, instead he keeps looking at the road not giving a reaction, so you must take his silence as an answer. “what happened?” you can’t help but scoff. “as if marc didn’t tell you already.” he shakes his head. “he didn’t. he just told me he fucked up again and that i should pick you up.”

“we’ll at least he knows he did.” you breathe out a laugh. “seriously, what happened?” he repeats. “he’s just bitching about the lose of the game and literally behaves like a child, acting like it’s my fault. he also almost called me a bitch… so told him we’re done.” hectors eyes widen, looking like they are about to pop out. “wait what? you broke up with him, like for real this time.”

you giggle, nodding. “i’m just done with all the fights, you know.” you look out the window watching the peaceful road, with almost no cars to be seen. “but you guys love it.” he furrows. “i’m just tired lf it, you know?” he nods. “that’s fair, he’s dumb for treating you like that.” hector says, before shutting the motor down, because you arrived home. “what are you doing right now?” you ask hector, since you guys haven’t talked much previously. “nothing, why?” you smirk. “you have to stay with me! we haven’t had our gossip sessions in so long.” you nudge him. “yeah, if that makes you feel better.” he smiles shrugging. “definitely. god, there’s so much tea!!” you walk over to your house

…

“i still love him, even if he does stupid shit like that you know.” you tell hector, while stuffing the chips in your mouth. you would probably die if anyone saw you like this, but it’s only hector, he’s seen you your worst times. even though he’s marc’s best friend, he never told him anything when you would talk about him. that’s why you can talk so openly with him about anything, he just won’t tell anyone. “then why don’t you get back with him?” hector asks. a knock on the door cuts in your conversation. “y/n?” you hear marc’s voice, making hectors mouth drop in a gasp.

shit, this looks so wrong right now, with hector laying in your bed as well as yourself. you walk over to the door, opening it a tiny bit to see his sad looking face. he genuinely looks like he’s sorry. you look back to hector that sits dumbfound in your bed. “who’s in there?” marc asks. you shake your head. “no one.” you answer way too quick. he pushes open your door, revealing hector that is sat on your bed. you look him in the eyes to see an hint of reaction, but he doesn’t show any.

“why is he here?” marc asks, way too calm, it’s almost scaring you. “we just talked.” you say your eyes meeting with the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the yelling. “okay.” he just nods. you look up at him, a furrow on your face. have you heard that right? “can i talk to you..alone?” marc scratches the back of his head, nervously. you nod following him out.

“did you fuck him?” woah straight to it marc! also what the fuck? “what the fuck, no!” you exclaim. “okay.” he nods. “marc, can you explain yourself other than replying with an “okay”. why are you here?” he just keeps head low. he almost looks like.. he’s intimidated by you.

“i wanted to apologise.” he finally looks at you. suddenly hector comes out of your room. he points to the door awkwardly, mentioning he’s gonna leave. you give him a smile before looking back at marc.

“marc..” you start. “no please, don’t say anything, just hear me out. i shouldn’t have talked to you the way that i did. it was stupid of me to take everything out on you, because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and i would never want you to feel guilty of something that i did. i understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again, but i just need to make sure that despite what i said, you know that i love you.” something in the way he’s saying it makes you believe him, but you’re not sure if you can forgive him so soon.

but fuck, he has no right to look this good right now, you’re supposed to be mad at him! his lips plump and red from the way he’s been biting on them nervously, his biceps broad and strong as he crosses his arms and his eyes looking lowly down on you. how can you be mad at him, when he looks like that? “you’re on probation, i guess.” marc’s eyes light up. “what’s that supposed to mean? please. are you ever going to forgive me?” he asks, needing to know. “like i said, you’re on probation.” you reply, getting closer to him. “that isn’t a yes, y/n. do i need to get on my knees and beg for you?” you can’t help but smirk. “getting on your knees wouldn’t be such a bad idea, actually.”

“fucking hell, well we can always make that happen, ma.” his hand makes its way to your waist, pulling you onto him. in a matter of seconds his lips are on your’s. he tightens his hands on your waist and runs the other up your back, pressing you harder into his chest. your hands move in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s even possible. he parts your lips with his tongue, to deepen the kiss. his hand on your waist loosens and trails down the side of your body, until he turns it to grab your ass. he lets out a low groan, bringing his other hand also down on your ass. you pull on his bottom lip slightly, making him smile in the kiss before reconnecting them again.

he squeezes your butt, muttering a quick “jump.” before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. he sits down, your legs each spread as you straddle him. he grips your hips, moving them back and forth so you’ll grind on him.

he groans as you feel his dick twitching under your cunt. he unbuttons his pants, making you slide your hand in them to feel his hard and veiny dick. you always forget how big he is.

he groans, taking your hand out of his boxers. “i want to make you feel good.” can he get any hotter? you smile at him, while dropping beside him on the bed. he lifts your arms before taking off your top and throwing it on the ground. he begins sucking and kissing your neck, most likely in order to cause hicky’s so everyone knows who you belong to, but it feels too good right now, to care about. his hand slides down to your loose pyjama shorts, touching your clit. you let out a whimper. you forgot how well he knew what you liked. “you look so good, ma.” he now kisses your tits also sucking on them like a newborn.

his mouth moves back on your’s, when he slides his cold fingers into your shorts, forming goosebumps on your skin. he immediately finds your hole pushing his fingers inside of you without an warning. he keeps stretching your walls, causing you to moan in his mouth. you part your mouth in the kiss, marc taking the opportunity to bite on your button lip, tasting your cherry flavoured lipgloss. he plumps his fingers in and out of you, whispering sweet words in your ear, in order to show his love for you.

his mouth moves from your face, down to your body, where you need him the most. he starts eating you out like his live depends on it licking and sucking in all your juices. you push his head deeper in your cunt, needing to feel him deeper. “marc i need your dick, please.” you moan. he looks up to you, eyes glistening, having waited for you to say that. as soon as the words left your mouth, he instantly turns you around, having your face meet with the pillow. he pulls your pants down, following with his own. you turn your head to watch him pull out his dick. lord, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to his size.

he stretches your cunt as he slides into you, having you bite in the pillow in order to not let embarrassing sounds out of you. he fills you up moving, his dick in and out of you. your eyes almost fall to the back of your head, from rolling them as he fucks into you relentlessly. “fuck, so tight, ma.” he groans. you move your ass up, for yourself to feel him deeper, according to the fact he isn’t fully in you yet. “fuck, y/n. if you do that one more time i’m gonna come.” he curses.

he buries his dick deeper inside of you, his balls hitting your butt, making you whine of pleasure. he spanks your ass, fastening his peace. “marc!” you cry, as you feel him hitting your g spot. he moves rapidly, squeezing your waist. your legs begin shaking, signalling marc that, you’re gonna come. “do it.” he demands. with a cry, you cum around his cock, making him twist inside of you and pull out, coming on your belly.

he breathes heavily, his sweaty chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. “fuck.” he mutters before getting up to take a towel from your bathroom. you look on your cum covered stomach, then back at marc that’s coming back with the towel. he smiles slightly, as he wipes it all off of you. “how are you?” he goes to lay beside you, his arms naturally finding their way to your waist, hugging you. “for a person that won’t be able to walk for the next hours, i’m doing great actually.” he laughs, pecking your shoulder.

#barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #joao felix #fermin lopez #hector fort #marc guiu #pau cubarsi #marcgui

[laiqualaurelote]

Ok but for the file thing, I'm DYING to know more about "The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign" pls <3

thank you for this ask for the WIP game! this is an extremely cracky AU in which the Richmond Players all start manifesting superpowers.

The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign. The second was Zoreaux.

To be fair to Isaac, he had failed to chop Jamie in half. (More on this later.) Thus, while Jamie went off to sulk and Zoreaux ambled up to poke at the broken sign saying, “Maybe we can make a new one?” Isaac thought nothing of clapping him on the back and replying, “Sure thing, bruv.”

His hand went through Zoreaux like a hot knife through butter. Zoreaux didn’t exactly fall apart, but he did sort of peel away in two halves like a melted clock in a Dalí painting. He was screaming the whole time. It was the modern art mash-up nobody wanted to see.

Isaac gaped at him in horror. The other players were yelling. “Bro! What did you do!”

“I didn’t – ” began Isaac. 

Zoreaux was still screaming. Weirdly, there was no blood or anything. The edges of him seemed to have been pinched off, like Play-doh.

“We must put him back together!” shouted Dani. He and Richard were on their knees, trying to jam the two halves of Zoreaux back together, only Zoreaux seemed to be drooping and stretching through their fingers. “Mon dieu,” gasped Richard. “He is like cheese! But not good cheese! Like the cheap mozzarella from Pizza Express!”

“Osti de tabarnak de sacrament!” shrieked Zoreaux. “What the fuck is happening!”

“I got the duct tape!” called Will, rushing in. He tossed the roll to Sam, who began trying to tape Zoreaux back together as the rest of the players rushed in to try and help. 

“Wait, wait.” Something was happening as Sam’s hands brushed against the halves of Zoreaux. They seemed to be melding back together. “Sam!” cried Dani. “It’s you! You are healing him!”

“Wow,” said Sam, staring at his hands as they knit Zoreaux back together. “Wait, I need to make sure he’s aligned properly. Can I get more light?”

Everyone was temporarily blinded as Dani burst into a blazing ball of brilliance.

“...okay,” said Sam after some time, “way more light than I needed, but thank you.”

“De nada, Sam!” 

It was at this point that Trent Crimm walked into the room. He stopped and put on his glasses, as if that would clarify the tableau of the AFC Richmond team duct-taping their cloven goalkeeper together while one of their strikers was blazing like a lighthouse beacon and their captain stood in the corner with his hands apologetically raised in the air. 

“What,” said Trent, “the actual fuck?”

*

Trent’s first thought was that he would have to re-pitch his book as a fantasy novel, because nobody was going to take it seriously as non-fiction any more.

“So you’ve got healing hands,” he repeated to Sam.

“I think so?” Sam stared at his hands. “Or maybe I just have the ability to stick things back together. I don’t know. Perhaps I should test it on another injury?”

Across the locker room, O’Brien cleared his throat. “Sam? Can you touch my butt?”

Trent and the players turned to stare at him. 

“Not for gay reasons,” O’Brien clarified. “For science.”

“Both of those are valid,” said Sam. “I would be happy to touch your butt for you.”

Trying to ignore O’Brien casually dropping trou in the corner, Trent removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dani’s brightness was giving him a migraine. “I’m sorry, bruv,” said Isaac to Zoreaux for the thousandth time.

“It’s okay,” said Zoreaux. They had yet to remove the duct tape, just in case, so he looked like a very poorly-wrapped package. “It didn’t actually hurt. I was just freaking out, bro.”

Babatunde was holding on to Zoreaux’s little finger and walking across the room while Bumbercatch followed him with a measuring tape to see how far the finger could stretch. “Three metres!” yelled Bumbercatch as Richard tried to cross the room to his locker and ended up having to do the limbo under the finger. “Okay, take it around the corner!”

“I just thought,” went on Isaac, “‘cos I touched Jamie, and I didn’t chop him in half…” He trails off.

“What?” said Jamie. And then, as Isaac made a move towards him, “Whoa! Are you fucking mental?”

“Sorry.” Isaac backed off. 

“Could I test a theory?” ventured Trent. “Bearing in mind that I mean this as a purely scientific inquiry.”

“Sure,” said Jamie. “Whatev – oi!” he yelled as Trent stabbed him in the hand with his pen.

The pen snapped in two. Ink splattered over Jamie’s hand, the skin of which remained unbroken. Jamie screwed up his nose. “That’s disgusting, man.”

“I think you’re invulnerable, Jamie,” said Trent.

Jamie considered this. “That mean I can’t be hurt?”

“I believe so, yes. We’ll have to run more tests to be sure.”

“Huh,” said Jamie. “Sick.”

“It worked!” O’Brien yelled from across the room. “It’s a miracle! I’m healed!”

“Okay,” said Trent wearily, “so we’ve got…five superpowers that have manifested so far. Anybody else feel a superpower coming on?”

“I got one,” called out Jan Maas. “I’m always right.”

The locker room erupted in laughter. “Shut the fuck up, Jan Maas,” they chorused.

Jan shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

#wip ask game #procrasktination #ted lasso #isaac mcadoo #thierry zoreaux #jamie tartt #sam obisanya #dani rojas #jan maas #trent crimm

[keirawantstocry]

Would a prompt for Tubbo to show up at Fit an Pac's doorstep absolutely fuming work? Like maybe it isn't Tubbo in control it's Tommy here to give the 2 an ear full because Tubbo has been a mess, months of miscommunication building to thinking they have been left behind, months of Tommy hoping he was right not to jump in cause it meant his husband paid attention to him. But Tubbo's a wreck heartbroken it can't be ignored anymore, how could they just drop him like that weren't they steps away from all 3 of them dating? Was that not worth fighting for?

Sorry if it's too detailed prompts are not my specialty it seems 9 w 9;;

I thought maybe a prompt of how left out Tubbo felt would be nice something that gave Fit and Pac pause to see that the hostility Tubbo shows at times to their relationship was because of that but also thought Tubbo would never say it or open up to anyone but I know you also subscribe to Tommy possessing his husband sometimes... I'm going to flee now I'm rambling too much ...

Have a lovely day!

it's been a while but you have a lovely day!

Tommy was mad. Tommy was furious. 

Tubbo was in the back of the mind they were currently sharing, sulking. He was so upset and it made Tommy furious. So he took over. Grabbed the reins of Tubbo's body and took control. 

Tommy stomped their body right over to Pac and Fit's house while Tubbo was too busy keeping his tears at bay to protest. 

“Hey!” 

Pac looked confused when he opened the door. “Ola?” 

Tommy huffed, crossing his arms firmly. “Listen to me, man.” 

Fit appeared behind him with a cautious look. “Hey, Tubbo. What's up?” 

“Listen to me!” Tommy repeated. “You guys are assholes. He's not perfect, okay? He pulls away from affection and he's a little bitch half the time. But he's my best friend. He's an amazing person and he would rather choke than say it but he fucking loves you two. He's been moping in our fucking mind for ages. He won't stop crying and as soon as he figures out I'm saying this he's gonna take over this vessel and I won't be able to tell you. So fucking listen.” 

They both stared at him with wide eyes as he drove his finger forward to drive them further back into their own house. 

“He loves you both. Not the deep platonic bond he has with me. Because trust me,” Tommy scoffed. “What I have with him will last beyond your lifetimes. Completely and utterly. But he fucking loves you guys. I mean the way he talks about you two. The way he thinks about you two. God. It's so fucking annoying. He's mentally collapsing over how attractive he thinks you two are. It's so ridiculous.” 

Tommy took a deep breath. Pac tried to cut in but he made sure he couldn't. 

“No. Let me finish. Right now he's starting to stir in our consciousness. When he takes over I need you to kiss him and make up. Fuck, it's gonna be disgusting and I'm going to hate it but its better then having to see… the most important fucking person in my fucking life… having to be hurt over and over again by people he loves. So do your cringe ass lovey dovey shit and make sure he feels loved. For the love of-” 

He was cut off. Snapped back into the back of Tubbo's mind. Fuck, he swore to himself. Please let those idiots understand me.

Through Tubbo's eyes he watched. Watched as Pac took Tubbo's face as soon as his own words slipped out of his lips and kissed him. Murmured the sappiest shit he had ever heard in his ears while Fit hesitantly took him by the hand.

And Tommy was right. It was gross and he hated it. But the joy that flooded through Tubbo's body was undeniable and calmed his spirit. He could finally rest. 

#my writing #fanfiction #q!tommy #q!tubbo #q!pac #q!fit #poly morning crew #fitpacbo #eeee lets go!!!! #fic requests

[ryuichirou]

Do you think any of the NRC students slept with someone that you wouldn't expect in a heat of the moment situation and never talked about it again? For example people you normally wouldn't ship together or don't see having much interaction but maybe they slept together since they were both in the mood and knew since they don't interact they wouldn't have to worry about bumping into the other and feeling awkward, maybe even multiple times since it's an easy no strings attached

Anon, it’s been days and every time I think about your ask, I focus my entire being on activating 100% of my brain and opening the third eye. A part of me is saying “I don’t know, I think we already ship everyone who could bang even if it’s just for once”, but another part of me is saying “but imagine the juicy gossip?” lol

To be honest, I ended up with a lot of possible options. Not all of them have to happen in the same universe because some of the boys ended up being more promiscuous than they probably would be LOL Also, we do ship some of these couples, to be completely fair.

Ace and Riddle – an accidental hookup, a classic “instant regret” situation. Argued for a long time, got super heated, and then boom, it happened. They didn’t say anything to each other afterwards and started avoiding each other for some time.

Jade and Riddle – I guess this is another accidental hookup? Riddle isn’t sure if this actually happened or Jade is just messing with him. But he is very flustered, confused and isn’t sure if it happened (did it?) because Jade is Floyd’s twin. Would that make things better or much, much worse? In any case, it was a momentary weakness… maybe induces with something that he shouldn’t have drunk.

The devil on my shoulder whispers “Rook and Leona”… And I’m not sure whether I should listen to him or not. The fact that Rook is still very obsessed with Leona suggest that he didn’t get any… But the possibility is never zero. I feel like Rook would.

Jamil could fully go around having sex with random people with 0 strings attached with his unique magic, to be honest LOL But it’s probably too troublesome because it would require him explaining to the hypnotised person what to do. I feel like we talk a lot about Jamil having these arrangements now that I think about it… while someone like Azul would be a regrettable long-term arrangement, someone like Floyd could be a one-time thing. Initially. But then both of them would kind of want to repeat it, so I guess it doesn’t count lol

Oh! Ruggie and Jamil! This would have the most perfect “one-time sex no strings attached” situation in NRC. Both of them are such no bullshit people lol

Epel and Ace both are horny-but-no-homo enough to end up with an arrangement where they would try to hook up once just as a training of sorts (if Ace doesn’t want to go for Deuce for some typical Ace reason). The main reason why it didn’t continue was because both of them were crushing on other people, and this coping situation just didn’t really work for them lol But whatever happened between them is a huge secret.

I can’t think of anything specific for Idia but it would be silly to leave him out, so let’s imagine him somehow getting Kalim’d because he got invited to his dinner party and then the whole thing was a blur. Kalim doesn’t strike me as someone who would have sex with a lot of people, but Idia was so cute that night! He kept saying that he really had to get back home, but his body was saying other things! <3

Sebek is a huge one when it comes to accidental heat-of-the-moment fucks, but he is very bad at never-talking-about it part, so Sebek/Idia wouldn’t work here (he won’t leave poor Idia alone after that lol). Sebek/Jamil would though, as well as Sebek/Leona… in every scenario Sebek is very confused though and is having a hard time keeping it together lol

Malleus is a wild card because I can see him somehow hooking up with Trey; it’s Trey’s energy of a regular guy who ends up fucking the most gorgeous people, I guess. Trey has no idea how and why it happened: was this a blessing? Should he be grateful? I mean, it was very good, but… should he be concerned about the fact that he fucked the future king? Malleus is perfectly satisfied and pleased though, so maybe Trey should be okay…

I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT AZUL AND MALLEUS, these two fucked during the Glorious Masquerade event, this is just a fact. But also it could've happened at any other point, but only once, either as a result of Azul being a total suck-up who really really badly wants to get on Malleus' good side (and what better way to make connections than by fucking a person I guess)...or as a result of Malleus being adventurous and flirty, once again.

I could also see Malleus hooking up with Floyd, and in that case it would be the perfect storm of Malleus feeling adventurous and a bit petty at people who didn’t pay attention to him + Floyd feeling in the mood for some dangerous games. Both of them would be very aware of what’s going on and would go all-out. It was the first time in Floyd’s life his partner didn’t ask him to be slower or gentler, only asked provoking questions, as if to piss him off.

Another person Floyd could end up hooking up with is Vil, but in that case it would be a result of their unresolved sexual tension that’s been building up overtime. Vil could end up hooking up with Jade for the same reason actually, but it would be more of a calculated thing in that case, in a “I know what you’re playing” sense. 

Bonus: Trey has slept with multiple random students on his campus during his first year, but he stopped doing that when Riddle enrolled. With some of them it was Trey’s first time talking to them, and he wasn’t really able to continue the relationship since then, so I guess it kind of counts?? He doesn’t like talking about it though, it ruins his image a little bit lol

#replies #headcanons

[sleepygaymerdisease]

Does anyone else think about how Shinji said this twice...

The first time was somewhat innocent, because he didnt believe in the idea of fate. He refused the idea outright because it was just too bleak. He wanted to think that there was a way for everyone to live, so why believe in something like destiny or predetermination?

And yet... He likely said this out loud to comfort Tezuka, to motivate him, to keep him from giving into despair. Shinji does not believe in fate, but the person he is dragging out of the battle field does, and he wants Tezuka to borrow his own feelings of determination and passion for just a moment, so they can both live to see the next day.

But what Shinji doesnt understand is that Tezuka did this sacrifice precisely because of Shinji's passion. Shinji has nothing to offer to this man because Tezuka has already made the choice to purposely refuse the benefits of Shinji's savior complex. He make his choice the moment that he walked out the door of Atori, and purposely distanced himself so Shinji wouldn't try to die for someone else. Tezuka explains that he changed fate for Shinji to live. Tezuka explains that he took this man's place so that Shinji can fight in this war, so that Shinji can find an end to the violence. Tezuka wants him to continue where he would fail, where he would have blamed himself for the death of another friend and never gotten back up.

Shinji wishes there was another option, that he could have somehow seen this coming and stopped Tezuka and figured out a way to live too... But what can he really do? Tezuka's last words left such an impact on him, and while Shinji originally didn't believe in fate, he could not help but lean into the idea after Tezuka's death. He tends to weigh other people's ideas more than his own in his head, so when Tezuka dies because he followed his principles to the end like this... He just can't deny it as much as before. Denying that fate exists would be spitting on the face of his friend's choice, right?

So the idea sits with him. The idea that fate was already changed... He's not sure if he can believe it, but he can't not believe it, either. There had to have been another way that things have gone, right? That's what he wants to think, but he cannot deny the weight of Tezuka's ultimate choice. He has to learn to accept this, somehow, but it's hard for him, it's hard to remember which thoughts are his own and which thoughts are borrowed from his memories of Tezuka. Shinji slowly becomes burdened by the idea of fate. Believing in Tezuka's last hope is the only way for him to continue, it's the only way for him to cope.

And that's when the narrative throws a fucking curveball. This character, wrattled with grief, finally trying to move on from that horrible moment of senseless violence, is forcibly dragged backwards. Six months. Six entire months happening all over again right before his eyes. Shinji gets an impossible second chance to fix what never should have happened. He knows who is going to die and he has the time to prevent it. He can change it.

But he discovers that he cannot change himself. He watches everything in horror as it happens all over again because he cannot break out of his own skin. He can't change his habits, he can't think different thoughts or change his actions, he can't seem to remember the details of that future that has not happened yet. His future self, and his future grief, is buried deep inside of him. He tries to claw his way out in any way he can, but he is trapped in the prison that is himself. He can only catch the smallest glimpses of clarity through the bars of his cell, and by then it is often too late.

When Shinji finally gets back here, to this moment, he must have repeated these words. He cannot change his thoughts, after all. So he says it and it means the same thing as before; he wants to comfort Tezuka and lend him his own determination and will to live. But there is now an additional meaning to it, isn't there? There is now a layer of despair. A part of Shinji is so, so desperate for things to change. A part of him knows that Tezuka diverted fate for his sake, and isn't that diversion a part of fate now too? Can't we change that too? Do not die when fate tells you to die. Don't do this, don't leave me again.

#i wrote this in some tags a while back but im crazy and needed to elaborate and make my own post so hi whats up im normal about tv #anis gaymer moments #kamen rider #kamen rider ryuki #kamen rider ryuki spoilers #ryuki spoilers #tezushin #long post #<- SORRY JUS TREALIZED HOW LONG THE WALL OF TEXT IS

[giannasturn]

༊*·˚ the cut that always bleeds.. 🩸🩹 M.S

W A R N I N G S: angst, situationship, sex, alcohol, smoking, kinda toxic Matt?, fighting, swearing, no happy ending

S U M M A R Y: friends with benefits with Matt turns into the biggest heartbreak you’ve ever experienced when you catch feelings but he doesn’t.

THIS IS MY WORK, MY IDEA, NO STEALING !!

4 months ago..

“that was fucking amazing” Matt, your best friends brother says. “Yeah it was” you say.

It just kept happening, you would find yourself in his bed almost every night, and you would find yourselves hooking up at every party you showed up to together.

One night, after you guys had hooked up, he asked you if you wanted to be “friends with benefits” you agreed, with no strings attached and the cycle just kept repeating.

Now..

Matt cleans you up with the rag that was already laying on his floor from yesterday, “I think I’m gonna go” you say, as he stands up and throws the rag in the laundry.

“Why?” He asks. Deep down in your head you know why. You cannot lay on his chest while he plays with your hair again, you cannot go on another late drive to get food and have a deep talk together again, you just can’t.

Your heart falls in love with him a little more every time you spend time with him, “i just need to leave” you say.

“Well okay, bye y/n.” He says while kissing your cheek.

You let out a quick “bye” while tying on your shoes and heading out the door.

You get in your car and start heading towards your apartment which you shared with your best friend Ava.

Ava was the only one who knew about your feelings for Matt, and it was gonna stay that way. Right..?

🎶 I can’t be your lover on a leash, every other week when you please. 🎶

“I just can’t do it anymore Ava” you say while eating ice cream sitting on your shared couch. “I wanted nothing more but to just hold him and kiss him but I know if I would, it would just kill me even more.”

“You have to let him go” Ava says, “no no, I can get over these stupid feelings I know I can.” “I just can’t let him go” you say.

You feel a buzz in the pocket of your baggy sweatpants, you grab your phone to see it’s Matt.

“You have to ignore him girl” Ava says. “I know” you say.

No matter how much it pained you you know Ava is right. So you do just that, you ignore him.

Next thing you know you hear your phone start buzzing again, this time Matt is calling you.

You cant help yourself so you pick up.

“Hello?” Matt says with a confused tone in his voice

“Hey” you say.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” Matt says, sounding almost concerned.

“I just didn’t, why do you care so much” I say.

I dont wanna be rude, but if I wasn’t then I know I would end up just acting like his little side hoe again, and I couldn’t keep doing that.

“Wow someone’s grouchy” he says.

“Matt what do you want, why did you call”

“Why are you getting so upset with me?” Matt says.

“Did I do something”

“Matt just leave me alone.” I say while hanging up.

- - -

🎶 cause you keep me on a rope, and tied a noose around my throat. 🎶

Fuck me. I think to myself, as I stand in this random persons house, at a party I was invited too last minute.

“Cmonnn, you gotta loosen up a bit” Madi says. I know she’s right, but all I wanna do is look for Matt and lay on his chest while his soft gentle fingers run through my hair.

“Maybe you could find someone else to hook up with even” Ava says. “Okay..fineee” I say.

While glancing around the room trying to find someone at least a little attractive, I see Matt with a random blonde tracing his tattoos and giving him “fuck me” eyes.

I move my eyes down a little bit and see his hand on her ass. Fuck, I think to myself.

As the tears start forming at my eyes, I feel my chest start to tighten.

I run through the crowd trying not to make it obvious that I’m upset, until I find a door and open it, only to find 2 random people fucking each other. “Sorry!” I say while storming out.

I find another door and open it, thank god nobody’s in this one. My back hits the door and I slide down it while heavy sobs escape my mouth.

I hear a knock at the door, “hey y/n you in there?” I hear from a familiar voice, Matt’s voice.

I try to stay silent but then once I feel the door push my back foward, I realize that I forgot to lock the door.

“What’s wrong, baby?” The words escape his mouth so easily, yet effect me so much.

“I’m fine, Matt really just leave me alone” I say.

“No, what is wrong? It’s obvious I did something.” He says.

I’m in love with you Matt. I wanna say, but of course, I don’t.

“Did you not fin- fuck y/n you didn’t finish did you.” He says.

“Oh my god Matt yes I fucking finished dumbass” I say.

“I think you just need to loosen up” he says, picking me off the ground gently

Before I know it, he turns me around an slams me against the door

He slowly lifts up my dress with his hands, and moves my underwear to the side.

Without a warning, he inserts 2 fingers into me. “Fuck matt” I say.

“Now.. you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He says.

“It’s nothing I’m just going through a tough time right now” I say, breathing heavily and trying not to moan.

- - -

🎶you know what your doing when your coming back, and I don’t wanna have another heart attack🎶

He puts my clothing back on, kissing all over my body. “So pretty” he says. “And your all mine” he says. Killing me

“fuck I love you” he says. Killing me.

I agree to go back to his house and hangout for a bit. I knew I shouldn’t, but at the end of the day he is also my best friend and I just missed it.

“you know, i enjoy fucking, but I also just enjoy your presence and hanging out with you.” He says while rubbing my thigh. Killing me.

“Yeah me too” I say. “Then why have you been so distant?” He says. I know I shouldn’t admit anything, but maybe he deserves to know something at least.

“Well when we were at the party earlier, and I saw your hand on that girls ass” “I kinda got upset and I-“ I say before he cuts me off

“Y/n, we never agreed to not seeing other people.” “We are just friends with benefits right?” He says.

“Right.” I say. Killing me

- - -

🎶 but even though your killing me, yeah 🎶

Everything he is doing is killing me. The kisses and praises he leaves all over my body after sex killed me.

Every time I seen him go on a date, or dancing with another girl at a party killed me.

But most importantly, every time he has to remind me that we are just friends kills me.

I know this is not good, I know leaving his house bawling my eyes out was not good for me.

Everyone tells me I need to tell him. My therapist, my friends, even his brothers, which now know about my feelings because I mean come on it’s pretty obvious.

It could be the fact that it’s midnight, or the fact that that I smoked 2 j’s, but i think its time to tell him.

I get into my car, put some music on and before I can think I start driving.

- - -

I arrive at his door, and immediately knock. Nick & Chris don’t stay up that late but Matt does so Matt answers the door.

“Hey y/n, you didn’t tell me you were coming”

“I know” I say. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah sure” he says. Opening the door wider for me to come in.

We arrive to his room, and the tension is high. He can tell something’s off, and my heart is pounding out of my chest.

“Y/n what the fuck is wrong?” “You ignore me, and then we have sex and you don’t let me even hold you!”

“I don’t fucking understand, you say your going through a tough time but you don’t tell me anything!” He says.

“Matt it’s cause I’m fucking in love with you.” I say.

…. The silence is a unbearable amount of loud and the air becomes even more tense if that’s possible

“Every time you kiss me it kills me because I know we won’t ever be able to do that without fucking.”

“Every time you hold me, it kills me because I know your just doing it because you just nearly took my ability to walk away.”

“Every time you call me yours it kills me because I know that I’m not, and I never will be”

“I thought maybe if I ignored you it would get better and these feelings would pass but the more I ignored you the more it hurt and I couldn’t take it anymore” I say.

“I can’t just fucking be your lover when you want me to be, and then see you eye fucking a ton of other girls at parties” I say

“You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve me. I caught feelings and this is all my fault.”

“But I also don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to feel like I’m getting stabbed anytime I come near you.” I say while leaving his room and slamming the door on my way out.

My chest feels tighter then it ever has, but I also somehow feel relieved. I finally let it out, I don’t feel so locked up anymore.

I run out of the house ignoring all of the “y/n wait!” “Y/n comeback” s that come out of his mouth.

- - -

🎶 beat my heart to black and blue 🎶

When I arrive home, I walk in sobbing and Immediately drop to the floor.

“Oh my god y/n what happened” Ava says.

I am on the verge of passing out, everything around me is tuned out and my eyes are blurry, quite frankly I don’t know how I survived the drive home. I felt light headed and like I was about to puke.

“Y/n stay with me, everything’s going to be okay” Ava says.

- - -

Everything from that night is a blur. I know what happened and I know what I did, but all the details are erased from my brain.

My room reeks of alcohol, weed, and just disgustingness considering I haven’t cleaned my room, nor got out of my bed for 4 days.

I haven’t gotten any messages from Matt, he hasn’t came here, he’s just gone.

There’s been music blaring in my room for 3 hours straight, the songs going from sad, to chill, to hype music where I start convincing myself I’m over it until it turns back into sad music again.

“The cut that always bleeds” by Conan Grey turns on, and I immediately turn it all the way up.

This song can explain me and Matt’s relationship more then I can, and I can’t listen to it without bawling my eyes out.

“Oooh, oooh, but even though your killing me” I sing while my head lays back on my headboard

Tears start streaming down my face, Matt’s shirt I haven’t token off for 4 days getting soaked from my tears.

“I need you like the air I breath”

“I need, I need you more than me.”

No matter how much I don’t wanna admit it, I need Matt more then anything. I need his hands rubbing all over me, i need his lips against mine, I need our hands interlinked. I need him………

…. The end.

A/N, this is my 2nd fic ever, I think this fic is way better then my 1st one, but I still don’t know if I would consider it good, anywho I love the cut that always bleeds but I can’t listen to it without crying so I thought why not make a fic about it!! I love angst and couldn’t wait to write it so I did just that. Hope you enjoyed!! 😋😋

TAGLIST:

@bernardsbendystraws comment if u wanna be added !!

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fandom #fanfic #tumblr fyp #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #conan grey #sturniolo fanfic #giannasturn

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Ok regarding that “can i make Yves do my homework if I give him my childhood pictures” ask, exactly how much access does Yves have to our lives? Does he have images or videos from when we were still a baby or would they be new information to him?

A bunch of my baby pictures and videos are lost because my dad lost the computer that had them but we recently found my aunt’s old camera filled with our childhood pictures, it was a pleasant surprise for us but would it be for Yves too?

It absolutely is. If Yves was there with you while your aunt showed you the photo gallery of her old camera, Yves would momentarily lose a bit of inhibition and let his pupils dilate to a maddening degree before instantly constricting it back to appear normal. It's a rare, super deluxe edition photos of you, there isn't anything else like it out there as they're most likely not uploaded to the internet or a cloud based service, where he could easily hack.

Him coming across media from your childhood or at least during those early days where people still go to and get their photos developed, is like winning the lottery for him. Because, although he tries to collect everything relating to your existence, there is only so much he can do in a day. He rather prioritizes the present and the future, as the past is the past; neither you nor him can change it, he can only understand or connect it to your current behaviours or thought patterns.

He does have some information about you as a baby or a child, but that is if they're "readily available" to him. (I.e., it can be found in predictable places like in your childhood home.), that is why, Yves would try to build a good relationship with people you grew up with, to extract information.

Despite being reclusive as he is, Yves would never fail to attend every and any family gathering he is invited to or expected to come. Encouraging that drunk uncle to drink more if he knew he has something to say about you, bribing your relatives with gifts and career opportunities, perhaps even drugging that really difficult and combative cousin to make them more bearable to interrogate.

As soon as he knew your aunt could be another goldmine of your data, he would get to work. Wasting no time building a rapport with her, it's a piece of cake given how obsessive and manipulative his nature is.

Inevitably, your aunt will come to love him and see Yves as family. By extension, her relationship with you will skyrocket too, she will invite you to her place much more often even though she might not be the most sociable person in the first place. Yves will find a way to make her bend to his whims.

The majority of their conversations would be about you, only sometimes Yves would talk about something else if it meant he could keep the drive to spill more about your lore going. His sharp ears and mind will pick up on clues as to where he might find more pictures or writings about you. He would then break into your aunt's home to give it a thorough shakedown and leave without a trace. Yves would repeat this process until he's positive that she has nothing left to offer. That camera is getting fucking stolen and replaced with a duplicate.

It didn't matter if your aunt was a minimalist or a severe hoarder, he would go through all her things just to try and find pieces of your puzzle. He would wade through cobwebs, dust piles, rat droppings and mould if he had to, Yves isn't scared to get dirty to obtain what he wants, "squeamish" isn't in his vocabulary.

When she is robbed of all your essence, Yves would become distant. Not hostile towards her, just cold and indifferent. He would still maintain some sort of relationship with her though, in case she becomes useful again later. As of now, he either puts his entire focus on your current peripheral and direct life, or start to hunt other members down- from his snooping, he had learned of other people who may have valuable input about your childhood.

All of this is happening in the background. You wouldn't suspect a thing, there wasn't a dip in his attention for you. In fact, he may have gotten a lot more smothering, as Yves would be shaking at the thought of testing out his new theories and hypothesis that were birthed from his new knowledge.

He just loves you so much that he couldn't help himself but to get greedy. Yves wants all of you; past, present and future. And any version of you that could have been.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

[fandomunsexyman]

SVSSS is a novel with a fandom.

[ID: A Scum Villain edit of the "missing the point" meme. A bullet arcs from velinxi art of child Shen Jiu kneeling while furiously glaring. The bullet says, "People are not entirely one thing or the other and holding them to these extremes ignores the complexities that come with their humanity." It arcs over the head of a person across from it, who ignores the bullet and exclaims: "Wow!! Shen Jiu's only crime was being mean and was wrongly hated!" End ID]

#i have so many thoughts about him but he is SO mischaracterized in a lot of fics #like just 'he would not fucking say that' on repeat #because shen jiu's entire thing is that he was CANONICALLY a terrible person #yes his backstory was sad but that doesn't make him Suddenly Good #shen qingqiu is an incredibly complex character but can y'all not pretend that his only flaw is being mean #like shen jiu failed original luo binghe in every way #as his caretaker as an adult in his life on EVERY level #'the tea had healing medicine in it!!' no it did not #shen jiu poured boiling hot tea on a child as a grown man because he was jealous. of said child. #like the entire POINT of his secret backstory was to showcase his complexity!! #and to see so much fandom stuff that's just Shen Yuan in the Opposite Direction is Hm #like he's fun to analyze but let's not pretend that he wasn't a terrible fucking person #while I'm ranting shen jiu would not casually talk about his trauma either #shen jiu's entire thing WAS appearances and even post character arc i think he'd struggle to open up to others #so like NOOOO he would not just tell someone something terrible that happened to him in his past #he'd rather die #okay rant over but this phenomenon is just SO frustrating to me #svsss #shen jiu #scum villian's self saving system #original shen qingqiu

[realbeefman]

robert chase one of the characters of all time. hes blonde. he went to seminary school. he purposefully murdered a patient. he’s a vapid slut. allergic to strawberries. was caption of his college bowling team. desperately needs to be on antidepressants. he’s divorced. his ex-wife was/is in love with his dadboss. it’s heavily implied that this is part of why he married her to begin with. he’s been fired multiple times but he keeps coming back like a fucked-up obedient boomerang. he’s the best surgeon in the hospital. all this while having the personality of a sopping wet cardboard box of corn flakes that somebody poured milk into and let mildew.

#the concept for chase was #‘what if house had like. a surrogate son. and he kind of wanted to fuck him and also hes like catholic’ #‘ohhh and he can be australian!’ #‘why would he be australian?’ #‘just cuz’ #house md #robert chase #beautiful loser very virgin mary coded man #i do like chase but i find it amusing that i also find him boring #bc objectively theres no reason he should be? #hes a great character i love his story arcs i love how sarcastic he is i love how hes doomed to repeat houses fate #but compared to say. foreman? there is NOTHING #im very sure ill manage to gaslight myself into loving him later #dr robert chase #i didnt actually fact check the bowling thing. dont quote me its late

[herlockslimbo]

anyone else feel a little nuts about this scene

#ch6 curtain call ruined my life actually #i remember reading this shit at 2am in disbelief at what was before my eyes #HES HORRIBLE #uagah….nene’s words to him also fuck me up #i love ruinene #they’re gonna always be there for eachother here on out 🥹🥹🥹 #also can i just say reading this chapter initially without any visuals to help me was terrifying #like that one line where rui starts repeating himself. was terrified what his face would be #rui #rui kamishiro #project sekai #wonderlands x showtime

[dysaniadisorder]

i hate how normalized military is in the us im gonna rip my hair out

#i just. was talking w friends today #one of them was talking abt how he was almost convinced by the recruitment lady to join the navy and i was like. dude #and i was talking about how messed up it is that they send in people like that and catch kids like him #and my friends were like. you cant really blame her for doing her job. its her JOB like yes. it is her job. its fucking Bad #my best friend got all angry cuz his dad was in the navy. babe idc if he didnt actually fight he shouldnt have done it ♡ #''people get drafted'' you have to dodge the draft. #''thats illegal'' yes. this is a requirement for if you are drafted. you Have to just not. #no one said action would be comfortable nor convenient. in fact it is going to be almost none of either #you are gonna have to face that the military murders human beings and your dad is not any better #and people who its ''just their job'' to do it chose that job. and they know #''you cant get mad at the worker woman; you have to get mad at the institution'' no im mad at the individual woman too #just because its your job to manipulate kids and kill Arab people doesnt mean its okay #''not everyone in the military is actively fighting'' no! they arent. but they are helping those that are. #they are not complicit but actively helping. you have to do anything and everything you can to just Not Fucking do that #ANYONE in the military has failed being a decent human 101. being in any part of the military means you are okay with centuries of genocide #and encourage even more. its not 'just your job' you are OK and more for relentless murder and i wish you harm #anyways. sometimes repeating & internalizing the things ur parents say means watch our for road traps and the beatles are good. #sometimes it is US propaganda and just because it is in your own house and coming from a loved one doesnt mean you cant not fall for it #edit not to mention him saying this the day after aaron bushnell died. dude #unethical jobs exist. it is everyones job to bring them down #''its just her job'' was Bushnells sacrifice not fucking enough for you??? and the millions of dead Palestinians????? christ

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

BoCo and Bear have this unique look they exchange. Not every day but like once every month or so—whenever there is extremely predictable drama going down at Tidmouth.

It's a wordless "Can you believe this shit?" / "No, somehow, even after forty years, I cannot quite believe this shit."

#i was going to call it 'omfg more steam engine shit' look but that's not fair #because this exchange of glances gets an extra-vigorous workout every time a Rude Visiting Diesel is about #but to be fair it's time to shine is *also* when everyone is singing the tunnel song or joking about backing signals or somethin #i say 40 years because it took them a while to realize it's always just the same ten arguments rehashed #and it took 'em *even longer* to realize that although *they* were now tired of it #the famous eight *still* weren't and they NEVER WOULD BE #ttte #the railway series #ttte boco #ttte bear #ttte headcanon #i excluded oliver because he doesn't repeat himself #like he fucks up and causes drama frequently but the boy keeps it fresh #and donald and douglas are usually givin' each other the same look asdfkl;dfs;l (but they are MUCH less subtle about it lol) #sometimes the caledonians and the diesels can even mix-and-match in a pinch! #(you know what that is? GROWTH 💚)

[kn11ves]

emotional support group for autistics who got called condescending and rude as kids just for responding to things directly and still not knowing how they were being mean

#what did i do #i got constantly told by my mother and step father (and his family) that i always talked like i knew better than they did or that i was #just as mature. i was just fuckjng talking what the hell did you want me to do #why do you feel attacked when a 10 year old speaks to you as an adult????? literally what #i dont know on that note sometimes its just like i dont even feel like ive aged at all #sure i have a giant explosion of time in my head just Gone from my memory because i was getting abused but like i dont feel like ive aged #or really matured ive felt like ive alwats felt #i cant relate when epople are like me when i feel all my ages or i wish i could go back to being x age or being x age everything felt so #different..like no it didnt. or im missing something? #i have never in my life felt like anything has changed. ive always been this old. there is no ''inner child'' and ive never had childhood #innocence or a nostalgia or childhood to go back to. i have no idea what any of you are talking about ever👍 #ugh jst rmemebred skmething that happened with my white step dad's mother #we visited her house and she literally fucking didnt let me go (not physically) until i replied to her with Correct Granmar. what was i #doing? i was reaponding to her by saying ''yeah'' and she kept repeating ''yes'' like telling me to say yes instead of yeah and i didnt #Fucking Get It because guess what you old white cracker i barely fucking speak english and you are just saying things in an aggressive tone #like thats gonna make me get it. and i Didnt i just kept replying yrah to her yes's and then she got tired of it and we left out the door #and theeeeen i got yelled at in the car by being called disrespectful and rude by my parents. WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO????????? #those crackers never liked me LOL i literally know they didnt #ugh i rmemeber this one time my step dads father was like trying to show me some dumb boxing or karate or something punching move and he #told my mother that i was good at it because he felt i had a lot of aggression and then NY MOTHER YELLED AT ME IN THE CAR FOR IT?????? #oh fucking wonder why te kid being abused mighthave aggression but she didnt Know (apart from what She was doing to me) like why would it #be my fucking fault if he thought i had aggression in me HOW IS THAT MY FAULT WHAT DIDBI DO I WAS JUST TRYING TO DO THE MOVE BECAUSE WELL #I WAS TRYING TO GET ALONG BECAUSE THATS WHAT THEY WANTED ME TO DO #she was like do you know how much that embarassed me and WHAT THE HELL HE SAID IT I DIDNT I WAS LIKE #8??? OR SOMETHING???? I DONT FUCKING KNOW!!! I DIDNT KNOW WOMAN WHAT DID YOU WANT FROM ME #mothers when they mother👍