#between constructive comments and just being a dick

[victusinveritas]

Comic by Shami Stovall on Twitter.

[creamedpied]

“ lean onto me ”

pairing : gojo x f!reader

word count : 833

tags/warnings : noncon, aphrodisiac, piv, creampie, baby trapping, oral (f! receiving), he calls you “love”, gojo mayhaps afraid of abandonment, terrible writing at 3am, no beta we ball

synopsis : why can’t you just forget about the world and rely onto him? he’ll make sure you won’t have to think about anything but his cock.

likes, reblogs and comments/constructive criticism are always appreciated <3 happy reading !!

gojo was the definition of “perfect boyfriend”. He always respected your boundaries, understood your choices, and supported you. so why did you try to leave him?

all he ever wanted was you to be dependent on him, need him. he wanted his presence to be as important as oxygen, his absence to be the equivalent as death to you.

so where did it all go wrong? he made sure to play all the right cards. asking to take a break because of work-stress? utter bullshit. you shouldn’t have to even care about such issues since he should be your first priority.

he sure was sick and tired of playing the good guy. if you wanted to leave him, shouldn’t he atleast show you how much he wanted you to stay?

your body was on fire, every touch of his was like gasoline- igniting into bigger flames.

what was in that pill he made you swallow?

“n- no!” you whimpered, your fingers interlocking into his white hair as he enjoyed his “dinner” between your thighs. with your hands tied together, resistance was futile.

you could feel him, feel his tongue, his breath, everything. you mewled at every contact he made with your pussy, when he circled around your entrance, when his tongue swirled against your clit, when he slurped and licked your fluid up.

you tried your hardest to push his head away from in between your thighs, but to no avail, you were just far too weak. he invited himself further in and pushed your thighs open wider, while shoving his face deeper into you.

“stop it ..!” you squealed, feeling his tongue entering you. he hummed in response, making you squeeze on him at the sudden vibration. you could tell he was savoring this, his “meal”. your core was on fire, you could feel yourself getting close, and he knew that too.

he was always kind to you, didn’t do anything you didn’t like, and listened to what you wanted. you couldn’t comprehend how someone like him could immediately turn 180 on you.

he stopped before you could climax, leaving you hanging. your hips unconsciously scooting towards him when you no longer felt him. he grinned at the sight of you being needy, no matter how much you plead for him to stop, it was evident you were enjoying it too.

he licked his 2 fingers and plunged them into you, curling them and repeating the same motion over and over again. your inner walls clenched around his finger as his pace quickened. the constant fiery of pleasure built up within you and with on final thrust, you came on his fingers and spasming uncontrollably.

your body was already exhausted, trembling. your hole twitching as his finger left. “why’d you try to leave, love? just stay by me..” he mumbles

the bulge in his pants was obvious. He could feel his cock throbbing and cramping inside his pants, and when taking it out, the tip shone with precum.

he placed his hands on your hips and positioned it directly at the entrance, teasing you by sliding it up and down. you whimper, grinding against his dick. your body was in heat, although you already had an orgasm, it still yearned for more. he was pleased by your involuntary begging, the moment he thrusted it into you, you let out a squeal and tightened around his cock, perfectly shaping into his size.

he slowly pulled his cock out, letting you feel every inch and immediately slamming it back in, your body jolting at his sudden movements. his cock constantly hitting the entrance of your womb that was desperately sucking down on his cock for his seed.

the room was filled with the wet slaps of your pussy being fucked and the sounds of your moans ounced off the walls.

“your pussy is so tight,” he groaned, “everytime time i pull away,” his thrusts getting rougher and harder, “your pussy clamps tighter onto my dick like it wants my child. ”

he grabbed your waist towards him, ensuring that there were no spot in your pussy that his cock hadn’t reached- you let out a whine of pleasure as

“i’m not on the pill-” you cried out as he mercilessly ravished your insides, “please don’t come inside-”

you heard him let out a chuckle, his hips not taking a single second to break the rhythm, “don’t worry about trivial problems. just take this as a safety measure to ensure you won’t ever think of leaving me again.” and with a final thrust, he coated your inner walls with his semen, filling you up. your womb happily opening itself to receive it and your walls clamping on his dick, trying to wring all of the remaining cum out.

“now all you have in your mind is us, right love? don’t ever try to leave me again.” he says as he snuggles beside you, not pulling out to ensure you're fully inseminated and impregnated with his child.

now you’ll finally lean onto him.

[totallynotshine]

Mad at Me - Joel Miller x Reader

You get on Joel's last nerve.

warnings: no ellie au, established partnership, unspecified age gap (reader is legal, Joel is in his 50s), brat taming, light choking, dubcon but both parties are enthusiastic, unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap folks), dirty talk, spit kink, praise kink, bondage, fingering, oral (f! receiving), rough sex, mean!Joel, dom!Joel, pussy pronouns, softdom!Joel, aftercare. Reader is unspecified but has afab anatomy and uses she/her pronouns. wc: 4.1K notes: first piece for the blog and i went a little crazy. i just want Joel to manhandle me. enjoy, you little freaks. 18+ UNDER THE CUT: MDNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You might just throw yourself into the next group of infected you come across. Or take your pistol, put it to your head, and blow your brains out. You‘re miserable; and Joel is making damn sure you stay that way.

Everything you’ve done has elicited a comment from the grouchy older man - you were being too loud, you weren’t sweeping the room properly, you were being careless; and, your personal favorite, ‘M’not yer fuckin’ babysitter. Quit bein’ a pain in my ass and take care of yourself.’ Actually, scratch the suicide plans. You’ll just shoot Joel instead.

You’ve settled for glaring daggers at the back of his head as you trudge along behind him, feet screaming for a break from walking. It’s been hours; Joel’s insisted you both keep going until sundown, despite your remark that ‘Wyoming isn’t going to grow legs and walk away if we stop’. He’d called you a smartass and you’d called him a dick, and now the silence is tense and suffocating. It’s been hours since you’ve said anything to each other that wasn’t something like ‘watch your step’.

“Quit draggin’ yer fuckin’ feet.”

You’re surprised you don’t crack a tooth with how hard you grit your teeth.

“I’m not dragging my fuckin’ feet. This-” You scuff and kick at the ground really hard a couple times, sending leaves and dirt flying. “-is dragging my feet.”

The look Joel gives you over his shoulder is venomous, but one you return with equal ire. His jaw tics as he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, forearm flexing as his grip tightens on the strap of his backpack. He looks ready to take your head off. The feeling is mutual. You think, holding his gaze.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He grumbles, stalking ahead. “On my last fuckin’ nerve.”

“I’m not a ‘fuckin’ brat’.” You mock his deep southern drawl, temper flaring. “I’m tired and hungry and you’re being shit company.”

“Tough shit. I’m keeping you alive.”

“The only thing you’re keeping is my blood pressure up.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll have a heart attack and I’ll get some peace and quiet.”

“From my understanding, heart attacks are usually more of a concern for people your age.”

Joel stops so suddenly you nearly run into his broad back. He whirls around to face you and you can’t scramble back quick enough; he snags the front of your shirt, bunching it in one large hand to keep you rooted in place. Fear and adrenaline jolts through your body as the dark look on his face reminds you exactly who he is and what he’s capable of. After all - there’s a reason you picked him, of all people, to partner up with back in the QZ.

“I’m sick of yer lip.” He snarls, paying no mind to your nails digging into his wrist as you struggle to free yourself from his grip. “All day in my fuckin’ ear. We’re going till sundown. If you don’t got somethin’ constructive to say, keep yer damn mouth shut.”

The second his grip loosens you’re tearing yourself away from him, heart pounding and blood rushing in your ears. There’s a flash of something in his expression when you put distance between the two of you, but it’s gone when you blink. He just turns and keeps walking like nothing happened. You follow, quietly, still coming down from your brief moment of panic.

Yeah, you were probably gonna kill him.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Sundown brings relief from the walking, but not from the tense atmosphere between you and Joel. Shelter for the night comes in the form of a shack in the woods; Joel makes a comment about how it was probably a hunting cabin in the past, but you ignore him. You’ve been giving him the silent treatment for the last few hours, your fear having dissipated back into anger and annoyance and another feeling you’re too stubborn to name.

“It’s a piece of shit, but it’ll do for the night.” He says, giving the interior a once over. “Find somethin’ to block that door while I get the fire started.”

You don’t answer. You can feel his eyes on you from the fireplace as you drag a dilapidated bookshelf in front of the door, his gaze burning into your back. Was this petty? Maybe. But he wanted so bad for you to be quiet - you’re just giving him what he asked for.

Another uncomfortable silence falls, Joel coaxing the growing flames to life as you set up shop in the corner, rolling out your sleeping bag and digging through your pack for your rations. Stale bread and beef jerky. A five star meal if you’ve ever had one (spoiler alert: you haven’t). You take off your holster, plant your ass on the sleeping bag and finally stretch out your tired legs. God, it feels so good to be off your feet. You’re not moving until morning; Joel can kiss your ass.

“No, I don’t need any help. Thanks fer askin’.”

Jesus Christ. You can’t catch a fucking break, can you? No, you can’t - not with Joel Miller skulking around. God forbid he catches even a whiff of rest and relaxation.

“You’re a grown man.” You snap, unable to help yourself. “Can’t handle building a little fire by yourself? Need me to babysit you? Give me a fucking break, Joel.”

“Here we go again with that smart ass mouth.” He growls, slamming his bag down on the ground. The force of it makes your heart skip a beat. “Always got somethin’ to say when ya need to be pullin’ yer own weight around here. I can’t do everythin’ fer ya, brat.”

“I don’t want you to do things for me.” Your rations sit in the wrapper on your bedroll, forgotten. “I pull my weight just fine. I can take care of myself; I don’t need you, Joel.”

“What you need is a fuckin’ attitude adjustment.” You really want to know what crawled up his ass and died today. “And some goddamn gratitude.”

You don’t have the energy for this anymore. You’re not sure what the fuck his problem’s been for the last few days, but you’re sick of it. “Whatever.”

His eyebrows shoot up towards his unruly salt and pepper curls. “Whatever?”

“Yeah, whatever.” There’s a little voice in your head telling you to stop talking, but you really can’t help but poke the bear. It causes a sick sense of satisfaction and excitement to curl in your gut as you watch the shock, annoyance, and frustration play out on his usually stoic face. “Whatever as in I don’t care, I’m tired, and you’re being a real dick.”

“Yer bein’ awful rude, darlin’.” Darlin’? Where the hell did that come from? And why do you kinda like it? “You better watch that goddamn mouth.”

“Yeah? How about you fuckin’ make me.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it. “You ain’t my daddy. I don’t have to listen to you.”

The silence that follows your statement is so still - so charged - that you can’t hear anything but your heart pounding in your ears. Joel’s brown eyes are dark and locked onto you; there’s an unreadable expression on his face, his breathing heavy with something more than just frustration. Something that has your insides twisting and heat pooling low in your gut.

“You wanna try again?” His voice is a low, deceptively calm rumble. It feels like he’s giving you an out; a chance to back out of this, whatever this is. Too bad for him your horny cavewoman brain has the reins now, and she’s more concerned with the way it looks like the fabric of his jeans is starting to tent.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’, crossing your arms over your chest and watching as his eyes follow the movement. They stay glued to your chest for a moment as he swallows. You nearly jump when they snap back to yours, but you manage to keep the defiant scowl on your face. He crosses the room, his footsteps heavy on the old wooden floor and you suddenly feel very small when he comes to a stop in front of your sitting form. He’s towering over you now, his eyes darkened with the unmistakable shadow of lust. He crosses those strong arms over his broad chest and it takes everything in you not to glance at the way his biceps strain in that damn flannel.

“Get up.” The words come out as a growl, a warning. A tone that suggests it’s in your best interest to comply. But where’s the fun in that?

“Kiss my ass.” 

Before you can blink, he’s snatching you up by one of your arms like you weigh nothing, his grip like a vice even as you struggle and squirm. The ease with which he moves you as he wants shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, and yet you can feel the dampness in your underwear already. “Get the fuck off me, Joel.”

“Oh no, sweetheart. You wanna act like a fuckin’ brat, yer gonna get treated like a fuckin’ brat.”

Oh. The way he’s talking to you while effortlessly dragging you over to his sleeping bag should not be making you as horny as it is. You should be furious. Smack him for talking to you like that. Instead, you’re fanning the flames. “Maybe if you weren’t such an uptight asshole I wouldn’t feel the need to act like a fucking brat.”

You make sure to really enunciate the last couple of words as he brings you both to a halt in front of his sleeping bag. Joel glowers down at you and you glare right back - the tension of the day is boiling over, morphing into a desire so smoldering it nearly has you sweating just standing there. You open your mouth to goad him further, but he doesn’t give you the chance - a second later his lips are crashing into yours. There’s nothing romantic about it - it’s a frustrated, sloppy mess of tongues and teeth as he crushes you against him.

His hands are rough as they roam your body, greedily feeling as much of you as he can. It doesn’t take long for your shirt to be yanked up and off; your bra joins it a second later. Your own hands have taken to roaming the expanse of his chest, but the second you hook your fingers in the collar of his flannel, intending to rip the buttons open down the middle, one of his big hands slides to your throat and puts just enough pressure to give you pause.

“Don’t.” He warns, pulling away just enough for you to see his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, that scowl still in place. “Hands off and get on the fuckin’ ground.”

The smile that splits your face is equally humorous and defiant. You’re not sure where this confidence is coming from, but he’s hard as a rock in his jeans and you kinda like the way he’s snapping at you. “What if I don’t want to?”

Your answer comes in the form of Joel grabbing you and quite literally tossing you down onto his sleeping bag. You’re not particularly proud of the noise that leaves your mouth when he does, but you don’t have time to think about that when he’s falling to his knees onto the bedroll right after you. You try to prop up on your elbows but he’s already got your biceps in his hands, unceremoniously rolling you onto your stomach and bracketing your body with his thighs.

“Quit fuckin’ squirmin’.” He snarls, using his weight to keep you in place. You hear the clink of his belt buckle as he works it loose. “You were askin’ for this, darlin’. Gratin’ on my goddamn nerves all day.”

“Fuck you.” You spit back, face hot and stomach full of butterflies. You continue to try and buck him off you, though your attempts are half hearted at best. “Eat shit and die, Miller.”

The dark chuckle that rumbles his chest sends a shiver down your spine. Your hands are suddenly snatched up, arms folded behind your back. Your pulse jumps when you feel him cinch his belt around your wrists; and just like that, you can’t use your hands.

“Oh, I’ll fix your fuckin’ wagon.” He rumbles, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades to keep you down as the other slips beneath you to pop the button on your jeans. “Just you wait, sweetheart.”

“Joel, what the fuck does that even mean?” He’s not listening to you, too preoccupied with yanking both your jeans and your underwear down to your knees. The amused huff that leaves him tells you he’s seen how embarrassingly wet your panties are.

“Told ya.” He purrs, leaning over you just to talk in your ear. “You been askin’ for it. You might think ya can lie to me darlin’, but she can’t.”

He sits back up; one of his knees pops when he situates himself, and you have half a mind to comment on it.

The smack he delivers to the skin of your ass chases that thought from your mind immediately.

“Joel!” You can’t believe this shit; he’s fucking spanking you? Seriously? The sting of another smack jolts you from your disbelief. “What the fuck-“

“Zip it.” Another hard smack. Your skin is red and stinging. “Had enough of your fuckin’ mouth today. Enough, y’hear?”

“Too fucking bad.” You just can’t stop. “I’ve had enough of you being a fuckin’-“ smack! “-bossy piece of shit!”

He grabs your hips and forces you to prop yourself up on your knees, ass up and back arched; your cheek is digging into his sleeping bag as you wriggle and cuss, unable to slip your wrists from the makeshift restraint. One of his hands moves from your hip to dip between your thighs, and your breath hitches when he drags his fingers through the wet mess your pussy’s become.

“Fuck.” He hisses, taking the liberty of spreading your arousal around, his thick fingers making a couple teasing swipes at your clit. “M’gonna set that attitude straight, pretty girl. Gonna make it all better. Don’t you worry.”

Do the words coming out of his mouth make you clench around nothing? Yes, but you’re a stubborn bitch. You’ve come this far, you can’t give up yet. So, despite the way his fingers are teasing your entrance, despite the desperate burn of want gripping you, you find the strength to mouth off again.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” You’re proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady, even as he slides two fingers inside you. You can’t quite hide the hitch in your breath at the stretch; his fingers are much bigger than yours, and he’s hitting places you never have while jerking off on your own.

“So damn mouthy.” He pumps his fingers in and out rather harshly, and you grit your teeth to fight the noises threatening to tumble from your lips. “You’re gonna eat those words, babygirl.”

He pulls his fingers away and you nearly whine; you were just starting to get into it. Then you hear him suck them clean with a low groan and you wish you could look past your fucking shoulder to see his face. His hands land on your sore ass and make you jump, face burning as he slides them down so he can spread apart your pussy with his thumbs.

“Christ. What a fuckin’ sight, darlin’. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Then that motherfucker spits right onto your cunt, taking the longest second of your life to watch it mix with the mess he made before. “She’s cryin’ for me, sweetheart.”

“You’re fucking gross.” Even as the words leave your mouth you know your body is betraying you, so eager for his attention it’s nearly embarrassing.

“Maybe.” You can hear the grin in his voice without even seeing his face. He shifts behind you, lowering himself. “But ya love it, dontcha baby?”

You don’t get the chance to answer before he’s pressing his face between your thighs, licking a long stripe through your folds that has you gasping for air. The first little noise leaves your lips as his tongue gets to work. You can feel him smiling against you. Then he’s focused on eating you out like it’s an olympic sport and he’s out for gold. It’s sloppy, it’s desperate, and it’s hot.

“Oh my god, Joel.” His hands are digging into the meat of your thighs to keep you still as you try to push back against his face, his beard burning your skin in a delicious way.. “N-No, I don’t love it, I don’t-“

You’re a fucking liar, if the obscene sounds coming from between your legs say anything. You know it, he knows it, and he’s reveling in it. His tongue circles your clit and you feel that familiar coil in your gut, that tension indicative of your impending orgasm; but right before you can crest that ridge he’s pulling off you.

“Asshole!” You can’t be bothered to care if you sound whiny, too devastated over being left on the cusp of release. “You’re…you’re a fucking dick!”

Smack!

That slap on your ass nearly does you in, and the way he’s soothing the stinging skin with his palm certainly isn’t helping.

“Brats don’t get to come.” He barks, his voice a harsh contrast to the gentle rubbing of his hand. “You lay here and take what I give ya. Yer lucky yer gettin’ any at all.”

If you could flip him off, you would. He moves away from you and you can hear him unbuttoning his shirt. You’re frustrated you didn’t finish, mad you can’t see him, and even more mad that he’s winning whatever little pissing match you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Fucking prick.” Your mouth just keeps running, and you try your best to look at him over your shoulder as you hurl insults at him. “Piece of shit. You been nothing but a dick all day, should’ve known you’d be just as bad in bed-“

Your rambling tapers off into a rough hiss when he suddenly notches the head of his cock inside of you, one hand on your hip to keep you still. You can tell just from the tip that he’s fucking huge. He starts fucking himself into you a couple inches at a time, the constant pulling back and pressing in drawing a new noise from you with each motion. The stretch burns at first, but it gradually melts into a pleasant pressure; and suddenly, you can’t find the words you were so eager to spit at him.

“What was that?” He grunts, his hand squeezing your hip hard as he fights to keep his pace slow. “Couldn’t quite hear ya down there. Hearin’ ain’t what it used ta be, sweetheart, you’ll have to speak up.”

You can’t form words. Your brain is pleasantly empty, senses overwhelmed by the drag of his thick cock against your innermost walls. You let out a quiet moan when he finally bottoms out.

“What happened, babygirl?” He taunts, pulling back only to snap his hips against yours, thrusting back into you roughly. You let out a louder cry; he’s hitting so deep, and you’re already a mess because of him denying you an orgasm. “Where’d that smart mouth go, huh? Ya had so much t’say earlier today.”

His pace is rough and harsh and you can do nothing but lay there and take it; your knees are hurting, your ass stings, his sleeping bag is chafing your nipples, and your face is going numb from being pressed against the floor, but goddamn does he feel good. Your vocabulary has been reduced to moans and whimpers as he rails you into the sleeping bag and runs his filthy mouth.

“Coulda made this easy, darlin’.” He’s gritting his teeth, his words caught in a groan. “Woulda been nice to ya if ya just fuckin’ listened. But ya had to be a god. damn. brat. Fuck, baby, yer squeezing me tight.”

You want to hold out for the sake of your pride, but the need to come overrides it. Your cunt is aching and drooling all over him, your clit neglected and throbbing with your heartbeat. You finally break.

“I’m sorry.” You practically sob, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m sorry Joel, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

He shushes you, mercifully slowing his overwhelming pace and smoothing a hand around your waist to your poor, neglected clit. “I know ya are, honey, I know. Not so fun anymore, is it? Told ya, all ya needed was a little adjustment.”

He presses his fingers against that bundle of nerves and you jolt; the pressure is both too much and not enough. He uses his other hand to keep you from pressing against him and chasing your release. You let out a frustrated groan and the bastard huffs out a laugh.

“What’d I say? Brats don’t get to come. Ya done being a brat?” You nod quickly and eagerly. “Ya gonna be good for me now, darlin’? Got it all outta yer system?” Another quick nod from you. “Good girl.”

Joel pulls his fingers away and you nearly cry until you feel him loosening the belt holding your wrists behind your back. He frees your hands and pulls out of you completely, turning you over on your back. Now you can see him, blinking up with teary eyes, and fuck - he’s shirtless, sweat clinging to his tanned skin. Your eyes follow the trail of greying hair from his chest down to his soft stomach and finally his dick, which is so hard it looks painful. His eyes are wild but soft at the same time, the firelight catching the brown and turning it to liquid gold.

One of his hands cups your face and he wipes your tears away with his thumb, his voice dropping to a low croon as he guides himself back inside of you. You can’t stop the whimper that catches in your throat at the feeling.

“I know, sweet thing, I know.” He helps you wrap your legs around his waist, then leans down and braces his forearms on either side of your head. His lips ghost over yours as he starts to rock into you again. “S’lot, baby, but you can take it. I know you can. Thaaat’s it, there she is. Good girl.”

Joel’s thumb finds your clit and your back arches, legs locking around his hips as he fucks you a little harder. “Joel..!”

“Shhhh, I know.” His cheek is pressed to yours, his voice husky in your ear. “Poor pussy’s taken a beatin’, huh? I know I was rough with her earlier. M’sorry, pretty girl.”

His words are going straight to your throbbing cunt; your nails dig into his shoulders as he grinds his cock into you, so deep you can feel him against your cervix. You’re moving your hips with him, so, so close, but your release stays frustratingly out of reach.

“Gonna come for me, babygirl?” He presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are lidded, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. “Gonna make a mess on my cock? Can feel her squeezin’ me.”

“I-I can’t.” You sniffle, voice cracking with frustration. “Joel, i can’t-“

“Yes, you can.” His thumb draws tighter circles on your clit and he changes his thrusts to a firm, rolling grind that has your toes curling. “C’mon, darlin’. Ya been good; you deserve it. I gotcha, sweet thing, I gotcha. Just let go f’me.”

Finally, with a broken moan of his name, you come undone around him, clenching down on his dick like a vice as stars dance in your vision. He fucks you through it until you’re shaking with overstimulation; then he pulls out, cursing, fisting his cock until he’s spilling himself all over your stomach. The space is quiet other than the fire and your mingled, panting breaths.

“Feel better? Done bein’ a brat?” He grunts, a smile tugging at his lips. He reaches over to his pack, grabbing a cloth to wipe his spend off your stomach. You lay boneless against the sleeping bag, mind blissfully empty as he cleans you both up.

“Mhm.” You hum, a small smile stretching across your lips. He tosses the rag aside, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before his lips trail lower. You shudder when he takes his time to lave his tongue over each of your sore nipples in silent apology before kissing his way back to your lips. You tangle your fingers in his sweaty curls and hold him close, smirking against his mouth. “For now.”

[boopiemadz]

HIII saw your post abt travis x reader so PLSSSSS literally anything w him, maybe s2 timeline when Javi is missing like sitting by the fire with him in the middle of the night, or being like the only one he opens up to???? I just want to give him a hug oml 🙏

OML yes! This came out more angsty then I intended but thats okay, still has a happy ending for reader and travis dont worry. Also I wrote this as a !Fem reader btw.

If youd like I love when ppl leave comments on my stuff, it js makes me feel happy so feel free! But yeah heres the little oneshot I wrote based on this prompt.

WARNINGS!

Suicide, Death, Cannibalism (this is yellowjackets...), Loss, Grief, Kissing 🤭, and basic yellowjackets topics.

[Guilt ridden scars]

---

Time is a weird construct. Especially when stranded in the Canadian wilderness for an unknown amount of time. Ever since the crash you had kept tally marks in your journal, unfortunately you lost your notebook somewhere between the 21st and 26th day. So you had to restart. This time you kept time on the wall of the cabin, in the small corner you slept in next to coach Ben's room. You started this tally the day Javi went missing, the day of doomcoming. 

Doomcoming was a mess. 

Nothing about that night should've happened, it was the catalyst for everything. Though you never participated in the hallucinogenic chase that went down, there was still a deep pang of guilt that you didn't get to him sooner. You had been wandering around high on mushrooms far away from the group, but when you returned, the sight of Travis pinned against that tree, knife to his throat put a knot in your stomach.

It wasn't your fault.

What happened to Javi was not your fault.

What happened to Travis was not your fault.

What happened to Jackie was not your fault.

Yet it still felt like your fault.

---

It had been around 59 days since Javis disappearance, according to the tally marks. 59 days spent everyone out, 59 days since you felt anything at all. 

You'd spent the first few months staying close to the friends you were close to on the team, you loved the yellowjackets, those girls were a lifeline, a source of belonging. But something shifted somewhere between finding the cabin and doomcoming, the cabin was hot, and cramped, to be honest it made you infuriated. So to combat the overwhelming crowd you started to occasionally take a walk down to the lake to sit and think. This became a regular thing for you. Eventually someone found your spot.

“So this is where you go when you disappear”

Says Travis slowly approaching you. “Please don't be a dick and tell everyone” It's not that you didn't like Travis, he was just, abrasive. His demeanor was cold and snappy, but you couldn't blame him, he had lost his dad and wasn't exactly in the right state of mind. But you never really paid much attention to him either. 

“Nah” He says kicking the pebbles lining the shore. “I get it” He sits down next to you giving some room for space as you continue dipping your feet in the cold water. “Aren't you supposed to be out hunting with Nat?” You question “Not today, she went alone. I decided to come here instead of slowly dying of heat stroke in the cabin” You let out a giggle. 

That day marked the start of your friendship with Travis, he went from a rude and annoying boy to a close friend you'd sit with at the lake to escape from the fact that your friends are changing and everything that came with being stuck in such a place. 

---

When doomcoming happened it's like everything was flipped upside down. Talking to him felt too much, your routine lake chats stopped, eventually he went back to being the boy you'd never pay attention to, the boy who sat quietly by himself, except this time he didn't have his brother, he didn't have you.

---

The sun was setting over the snowy landscape of the forest. You'd sat yourself in front of the attic window watching it go down, yet another day without game, without peace, without javi. Ever since winter hit it's been maggots, leather belt soup and rationed meat. To say you were hungry was an understatement. Hell, a few weeks later you and the team would partake in cannibalizing your teammate Jackie (oop). 

Going back downstairs after sulking in the attic you got changed and started to settle down on your spot on the floor. Laying on your side looking at those tally marks that showed how long it had been since Javi disappeared, 59 days.

Just before you were about to close your eyes a figure walked through the dark and stopped at the door to open it and sneak outside. Everyone had already been asleep when you were up in the attic watching the sun get lower as due to the lack of food everyone had become increasingly low energy. 

You get up slowly so as to not disturb Akilah who was asleep peacefully beside you. As you crept up to the door and opened it, wrapped in your blanket, you squinted in the dark to see the person who’d left the cabin chopping wood. 

“Hey” You whispered, walking closer to the figure. “Why are you out here?” You questioned

As soon as the person turned around to face you, you finally recognized who it was, Travis. 

“I could ask you the same thing” He says, continuing to swing the axe breaking wood into smaller pieces.

“I came out here because I saw someone sneak out of the cabin, not because I wanted to stand in the cold” You retorted, giving him a sarcastic tone. He scoffs and throws some wood down on the fire pit leaning down to light the pile then sitting down in front of it hands out. In that moment, in the firelight you see it, a tear drifting down his cheek, eyes red and nose running. He'd been crying. 

In that moment you sit down next to him in silence, you hadn't had a real conversation for a long time, but something in you told you he shouldn't be alone right now.

---

After a minute of awkward silence a shift in the air starts to happen. You don't know why but for some reason the silence shifts from awkward and uncomfortable to a warm knowing embrace. It takes another second before he speaks up. 

“I- Im scared”

He says eyes are still focused on the fire in front of him. “Im so fucking scared Y/N” 

A tear falls down his cheek as he speaks, the heaviness of his statement hanging in the air. “I know” You say sliding your hand over his, something in you sparks when you finally touch. Then he turns to you, tears in his eyes, cheeks red and chin quivering. 

“I need you.”

And with that he lets out a sob, not just a tear or a cry but a gutoral sob laced with vulnerability and emotion. He buries himself in your shoulder quaking while you hold him. Holding him. 

“I'm here… Im here Travis” You mutter stroking his hair as a tear simultaneously escapes your eye. 

“I don't know what to do” He says, releasing from the embrace and wiping off his nose with the back of his sleeve. “I have no one left, what if Javi is…” You stop him “You have me” His attention softens as he shakes his head.

“Shit this is embarrassing” He chuckles softly trying to avoid eye contact. “I've never cried in front of anyone before” You speak up “It's about time you let it all go” 

“What do you mean?”

“You've been holding back this… grief, for javi. Sure we had talks at the lake but… ever since, its just been this quiet resentment. This needed to happen.”

He looks at you for a second before looking down to speak. “You know why I came out here?” 

“No”

“I've been coming out here every night. To leave food out for Javi. I knew you guys would yell at me if you knew… cuz of animals or something. But if there's a chance he's still alive, I need him to be.”

“Travis..” He cuts you off.

“But this night was different.” He takes a deep breath

“If hadn't… if we…”

You see the struggle in his eyes, the words he's saying he can't form.

“I was planning on killing myself” 

He finally spits out.

---

“Travis” Is all you manage to say as your throat dries up and your eyes water once more. You gently put your hand on his shoulder before you say another word. “Stay with me” He tilts his head to look at you, with an almost confused look “What do you mean by that. Why shouldn't I just try again tomorrow night.” 

“Because I need you” All you can hear is the wind, and your own racing thoughts. Your heart bounds across your chest as you think about him, about life and about this situation.

“I will come out here every night. I will stay by your side to make sure you stay alive.” You're not finished yet “Because I need you. I can't survive without you.” You take a breath “Everything in me says give up. Every bone in my body wants to jump off a cliff and just die. But when I look at you… When we would spend our evenings together by the lake. A tiny voice in me wants to live just one more day. With you.” 

You blurt this out without thinking, just a mash of thoughts and feelings you'd buried somewhere deep down. After another pause he doesn't speak, instead he cups your face with his hand, searching your face with his deep brown eyes until the land on your lips and he asks;

“Can I kiss you?”

And all you can do is nod before he comes closer and presses his lips on yours. They aren't tough, not like you'd expect but soft and gentle and patient. Peace fills your head and passion floods your mind as you kiss him softly but with a desire thats been brewing for a long time. After you both pull away a small smile forms on his face. 

“I guess I'm staying around.”

[n0tsketchyy]

Guys I need you to hear me out right now. Bruce Wayne and Matt Murdock friendship.

The type of friendship that has anyone who knows them side-eyeing because neither of these emotionally-stunted men are the type to really do “friends.”

———

Bruce Wayne first met Matt Murdock at a charity gala in New York. Initially he approached Matt as another simple, powerful attorney to network with:

What he didn’t anticipate was Matt immediately seeing through his carefully constructed public persona. Something about the way Matt tilted his head while they spoke—as if listening to something far beyond Bruce’s words—unsettled him. Bruce Wayne did not do “unsettled.”

Over the following months, Batman had several encounters with Daredevil while investigating a human trafficking ring operating between Gotham and Hell’s Kitchen. Their initial team-up was tense at best and downright hostile at worst, with Daredevil bristling at Batman’s commanding presence and Batman frustrated at the other vigilante’s refusal to share information. Eventually (way longer than it should’ve taken, they’re both stubborn as hell) they developed a mutual respect for each other’s methods.

It wasn’t until a year later that the connection clicked for Bruce. During a pro bono consultation where Wayne Enterprises had brought in Nelson & Murdock, Bruce noticed Matt’s body language seemed to perfectly mimic Dare Devil’s. That evening, when Matt returned to his apartment, he found Batman sitting silently by his window.

“We should talk, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt just raised a brow, “I was wondering when you’d say that, Mr. Wayne.”

Anyways, post-discovery created an unusual bond, since neither of them had peers who truly understood their dual lives or methods. What began as occasional case consultations evolved into something resembling friendship. Matt was able to work the legal system in ways Bruce couldn’t, and Matt appreciated having someone who understood the burden of operating a city that needed constant protection.

Alfred has noted with amusement that Bruce seems almost relaxed during Matt's rare visits to Wayne Manor, the two men spending hours in quiet conversation in the study. Especially since both of them share a dark sense of humor they don’t express publicly.

When Matt is dealing with particularly difficult cases involving children, he sometimes calls Bruce, not for assistance, but simply because Bruce understands the specific anguish of being unable to save everyone (cough cough Jason Todd). Similarly, on the anniversaries of his parents' deaths, Bruce occasionally finds himself in Hell's Kitchen, where Matt knows exactly when to speak and when silence is needed.

Dick Grayson once commented that Matt might be Bruce's only true friend outside the "family," the only person Bruce interacts with who isn't either a surrogate family member or a means to an end. Bruce didn't deny it.

Their friendship remains largely private—a connection between two men who recognize in each other the same obsessive drive for justice and the same struggle to maintain humanity behind their respective masks. They don't need to meet often; the understanding between them runs deeper than regular contact would require.

(Dick finds the whole situation hilarious—watching Bruce pretend not to know Matt is Daredevil while Matt pretends not to know Bruce is Batman during their awkward "civilian" interactions at public events. He's made it his personal mission to drop increasingly obvious hints whenever they're all together, much to Bruce's carefully concealed annoyance.)

[bidisasterevankinard]

Do you have deja vu?

Buck becomes captain. Not everyone supports or rescpect it not Eddie friendly, so don't like don't read (I'm pretty sure it's Eddie bashing fic but I'm still not sure where the line betwen not friendly and bashing/ also bc of the good headcanon about Sal in the bucktommy fandom you can see it as hopeful ending for Eddie)

Taking the role of a captain was a hard decision. Getting to be a captain of a team that is 99% older than you was even harder. 

How the fuck he should make them all respect him than so many of them saw him as a hot-headed probie? But Buck never thought that the hardest person would be his best friend. 

The only one not to congratulate him. The one who constantly makes comments. The one who put his authority under question worse than Hen or Chim ever tried. And Buck is done with him. Especially after what man did today.

The fire was all around the house, devouring everything on its way with loud sounds of destruction. Not possible to save the construction. Just a quick move to try and save the family inside. 

Making commands, Buck orders Eddie, Ravi and Rose to check and get the family out from the second floor, taking first and basement himself with Alex and Alvara. 

Everyone moves in quick succession, getting parents and two young kids out. He takes a deep breath outside, when Ravi confirms everything is clear. No people on the second floor. 

“118, stay out of the house now. Structure is unstable. We’ll fight it from spreading only.”

The worst happens next. 

The piercing, loud, making blood get cold in veins, scream spreads around, when the mother wakes up and starts crying her son’s name, screaming that he’s not here.

“Maybe he left? We checked everything,” Buck comes closest to the woman, kindly talking to her, trying to calm her and talk to him. Teenager might not even be there. He knows his team checked everything. 

With his peripheral vision he sees turn out move, not having time to repates the order to stay outside. He has time to see the name when he disappears in the fire. DIAZ.

Buck nods to Hen to try and calm the woman.

“Firefighter Diaz, you had no c-command to get back, the structure is unstable! Get out!” Buck barks in his radio, but no answer.

Piece of shit.

“Diaz, Get. Out,” Buck roars so disturbingly normal that Ravi looks scared at him. 

The fire intensifies. 

Eddie is not out.

“Mom! Dad!” The voice screams and the frightened teen runs to his parents. 

“Diaz, the kid is out. He was not at home. Get out!”

Surely, he does. Buck comes close to him not to make a scene in front of a poor family, hissing like a snake.

“In the fire truck. Now. You’re s-suspended.”

“Buck, c'mon,” Chim and Eddie say in unison. Buck just glares, “you want to be suspended and possibly fired too, Han? I-if not, I advise you to shut up and let me and Diaz decide it between us.”

Chim swallows and steps back.

The way to the firehouse was silent. Tensed. Buck was looking only in front of him, not reacting to Hen’s and Chim’s two weak attempts to make a conversation between everyone. 

He was thinking about the last night before shift, when he had the same question weighing on his mind and heart.

What should he do with Eddie?

Buck can’t sleep. Not without an answer. 

“Why are you not in bed?” Tommy mumbles behind him, “It’s almost midnight, Evan.”

“I know,” looking in his herbal no caffeine tea Buck searches for answers. Or drowning himself maybe.

Drowning sounds even more appealing. He just hates to leave Tommy hot-not-even-a-widower’ for young hot gays and bis out there for grabbing. Over his dead body.

Tommy sits near him, taking his face carefully in his hands. Buck hopes man would hide him in Tommy’s chest forever and Buck wouldn't need to face the world ever again.

“He’s still being a dick?”

Buck just makes a face. ‘Being a dick’ is not even putting it mildly.

“M-maybe I’m not what the station needs? Maybe he’s right in not trusting me?”

“Bobby trusted you, Evan. LAFD trusts you. Ravi does. Just because Eddie doesn’t, it means nothing.”

Buck wants to say that Eddie has his reasons. But a voice that sounds like Dr. Coupland is screaming about no bad self-talk and boundaries with toxic people.

“What sh-should I do then?”

Tommy kisses his birthmark. “Sleep now. And you’ll know what to do with Eddie when time comes. I know you will.”

Buck made up his mind. Diaz got it on himself.

The second they are all out of the showers and back in uniforms and cleaning, he gets closer to his ex-best friend.

He can’t even say hi to Tommy, because he’s so angry and he wants his anger to the person who deserves it.

“Firefighter Diaz,” he calls with his best captain voice, “come here and explain yourself about the last call.”

He wants it to be in the center of the station. Some lessons for everyone to learn.

“I tried to save the kid. What if it was Chris?”

Buck shakes his head. Of course he tries to play this card. 

Not today though. Buck won’t let him.

“But it wasn’t. You should h-have stayed outside till we could have more information about if the kid was actually inside. You, Ravi, Rose, Alex, Alvara and I checked the house. It was clear,” Buck gestures and tries his hardest to talk in a normal voice. To keep his cool like Bobby did. How man tried hard to do it from time to time too.

“What does it mean? What teen decided to go AWOL because he's a teen and it’s Friday summer night. And look at that, that is exactly it. Guy ran to get drunk with his friends. And you,” Buck points to Eddie, remembering to keep a long distance. He's not him. “You might have killed yourself and the team members, who’d tried to save you. You could’ve killed all of us."

“Oh yeah, because you know how to save people? Or how not to get your team not killed? Do you have skills to be a captain? Unlikely,” Eddie comes closer and Buck sees fire in his eyes. 

Ablaze in his heart loves the opponent.

“And you do? Have skills? To think on y-your legs? Leader skill? You don’t even have the temper to be a captain.”

Eddie basically runs on him, losing his shirt he still hasn’t put on on the way, but Chim comes in front of him.

“Okay, okay we got it. You’re angry because Buck was right to order us to stay outside,” then he adds in a smaller voice, “now say sorry and let’s forget about it.”

“What? Apologize to him? To the most selfish captain we can ever have? Never gonna happen.”

Buck can’t believe it was his best friend. Did Eddie ever like him at all? 

Well, at least one good thing from Bobby’s death. Cleaning of the space around him from people like Diaz. 

Buck stops Chim with his hand on his shoulder. It’s his fight. And he will fight and win it. With his words. And power.

“You’re gonna l-learn to respect the chain of command, Diaz or you’re not gonna work here anymore.”

“Screw you,” Eddie rolls his eyes, trying to smirk at Ravi and Alex. 

Both probie and Ravi get behind him. 

Buck smirks. Take it, Diaz.

“I guess it’s your answer,” Buck nods, then straightens and loudly pronouns, “you’re relieved of duty,” Buck looks around to make sure they all hear, “you’re not part of 118 anymore, Diaz.”

Eddie gets into his face like that night in the kitchen. Buck doesn’t flinch. People like Eddie don’t strike in public. If they are not paid anyway. 

“You can fire me! Who do you think you are?”

“Full fire captain who passed the exam, s-several training and interviews, and was appointed here by the fire Chief Simpson. As well as I had a recommendation written in my file by Captain Robert Nash,” Buck straightens in his whole height, but takes a step back from Eddie. He's not him, not going to intimidate someone with it. But show himself proudly anyway. “Unlike you, who had several remarks about you not showing the best leadership skill. More likely always stay a follower,” Buck loves who Eddie gets redder in anger. 

He can be a petty bitch. He knows.

“I don’t want you in my station. Pack your stuff. Get out.”

“Treat all your friends like this and you will have not even one!”

“I took lessons from you, Diaz. For years I was looking up at you. So look close to it.”

When Eddie is out of the doors, Buck turns away to Tommy, Chim, Hen and Ravi.

Ravi tries to smile, but gives up. “Are you sure it’s not too hard, Buck? To fire him?”

Buck softly smiles at him, “I will call Chief Sinpson about the suspension for at least six weeks and then transfer to another station, don’t worry, Ravi. I-I know Eddie is a capable firefighter and can be a good man. But he wasn't one here or with me for a while. Maybe at another station he’d get luckier.” 

Buck puts his hand softly on the young man's shoulder, smiling. 

“I’m trying to be a fair captain, Ravi. Like Bobby was. Respect you all and treat you right. But I demand the same and I will not tolerate the attitude like Diaz was showing.”

Everyone nods with smiles.

Tommy turns to Hen and Chim, leaning to them, “so do you two have some deja vu vibes too or?”

Hen and Chim nod with a scared face. 

“Do you think Bobby possessed him or what? Should we call a hot priest for exorcism?” Chim whispers and Buck just shakes his head. 

“118, clean everything, w-while I’ll cook dinner. I want the truck and engine to look like new ones.”

Everyone runs to do the job. Tommy smiles at him.

“Hello, captain.”

Buck smiles, exhaling all the anger and the weight on his shoulders. “Hi, Tommy. What’s this about deja vu?”

Tommy kisses his cheek, “have you ever heard about how Bobby fired Sal, but actually transferred him?”

[inkpotsprite]

Okay, so, I've noticed a lot of discourse between canon and fanon for the DC fandom (particularly the Batfam) and I agree with elements of both sides, disagree with some too, and understand but don't necessarily agree with certain things.

Like Romani Dick Grayson for instance. I agree that the canon portrayal of it was utterly appalling, mostly because it was written by someone (Devin Grayson, if I'm remembering correctly) with clear biases who had done very little research, as what was written was almost completely based on harmful stereotypes.

As someone who's not white (or straight), I know what it's like to be misrepresented in media like this, how confusing and hurtful it can be. So what I'm writing next isn't coming from a privileged place of 'suck it up and stop being a snowflake.' It's just my perspective which may be flawed and I'm open to being corrected if I'm missing anything.

Also, disclaimer, while I'm not white, I'm also not Romani, so I'm definitely not an authority on any of this.

So, let's get started:

A lot of people say that fanon shouldn't make works with Romani Dick Grayson due to it's origins. While I understand that, I also disagree.

Because most works I've read where Dick is Romani tend to be well researched and coming from a place of love and respect, unlike canon. They also do what they can to avoid falling into tired tropes or harmful stereotypes, again, unlike canon.

Of course, any work where the person who's creating it isn't the race/ethnicity that they're representing may not be perfect, because respect and understanding don't always go hand in hand. But I think that so long as they're willing to listen to constructive criticism on the issue from those with the perspective they lack, then it shouldn't be too much of an issue?

If fanon were doing the same thing as canon did with this representation, then I'd be against it. But instead, they're trying to make something good out of canon's mess. Though I could be missing something so please feel free to comment or message me if I am.

To me, fanon presenting Dick's Romani heritage with the love and respect the original author should have is similar to when fanon explores the sexual assault storylines that occurred in DC with the gravity and care the original writers failed to.

Now, in cases where they write Cass as a glorified prop, Duke as a generic background character, or Damian as a feral creature in need of "domestication," I totally get where people are coming from with wanting to shut that down. It's lazy, harmful, racist and gross as hell. I don't fuck with any of that.

But with Romani Dick I don't see (again I could be missing something so please tell me) many, if any, harmful stereotypes in the majority of fanon works.

Which is why I think Romani Dick Grayson can be a good thing when in the right hands. But, as someone who's not Romani it's hardly my place to say what the right hands are, this is just me saying what I've seen, if I'm wrong, then that truly is my bad and I apologise in advance.

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Triage

I am extraordinarily late to this party but I am here to scream about Triage, a show which I started on a whim after a stray comment from @incandescentflower and subsequently finished in two sittings. This drama has been on my list forever (I didn't watch it live because the distribution was wacky) and then it just kept getting overlooked as I fought to keep up with the deluge of Thai BL coming at us at all times. But I am very glad I finally hunted it down and made the time and I would like to tell you why!

Hello Again, Dr. Sammon

I am on record as a Sammon fan. She is one of the best writers working in Thai BL and she has a knack for mystery and suspense. Her narratives are always really well constructed with tight plotting and smart character work, and Triage is no exception. This story feels confident, steady, and complete in a way few Thai BLs do.

The time travel rules are blessedly consistent

Part of what makes the story sing is it's a time travel plot that actually gets the particulars right. In a time loop, the details are everything, and this show understands that. The series of events are consistent, the rules of the time travel mechanics are clearly explained, and when our protagonists learn something new, it always lines up with something we'd gotten hints about before or gives us new context for old information. There are no loose threads in this show.

My boy Tin is going through it

Tin is a fantastic protagonist. He starts the show disillusioned with his work and hilariously grumpy about this time loop situation--he is a busy ER doctor and he does not have time for this--but as he starts to piece together how the loop works he gets more methodical in his approach, and eventually becomes emotionally invested in his mission to save Tol. Tin felt really well-calibrated in that he was smart and he tried all the things you would be shouting at the screen for him to try, but he's still a human being with flaws and insecurities and so he makes mistakes, learns, and has to try again. The show really successfully put us in the frustration with him.

Tol makes for an interesting damsel

Because he's kind of an asshole! Tol is rude and disrespectful when he first meets Tin, he hangs around with some truly awful bullies, he treats Rit like garbage, and he's all around an arrogant dick. Until he isn't. I like the choice to make the focus of our mission such a difficult character, not only because it makes Tin's challenge that much harder, but also because it invites us to consider the reasons why someone might be behaving the way he is and whether they can be redeemed.

This show has everything: action, romance, and agony

It's truly an emotional rollercoaster all the way through, and you can't relax for a moment. The pacing is relentless through most of the show, and even as a bond develops between Tin and Tol and they begin a tentative romance, danger is lurking around every corner. As soon as these boys started making out in episode 9 I knew something awful was coming for me and IT SURE DID.

Jinta, the ultimate frenemy

On that note let's talk about Jinta, my nemesis!! Jinta is some kind of unspecified deity/whimsical god and the one who appears to be responsible for putting Tin and Tol in this loop. Is he trying to help them? Is he trying to torture them? I definitely think it's both! He seems to delight in showing up to taunt Tin as he struggles to figure out how to get through to Tol, and when it's Tol's turn on the merry-go-round he sends him to the darkest timeline for his high stakes final attempt to save Tin just because he can. I love/hate you, sir!

Sing and Gap and the darkest timeline

Speaking of which, can we talk about how appropriate it is that Sing and Gap are a couple only in the darkest timeline? I don't know if people were shipping this for real during the live watch, but I definitely was not and so I started cackling when we got to the worst possible timeline and Sing was suddenly calling Gap his boyfriend. Sammon, you are hilarious and I salute you.

Fantastic side characters

Let's talk about the sides I did love. First of all, aside from his weird aggressive flirting/not flirting thing with Gap, I actually did like Sing's friendship with Tin a lot. I also loved the hospital gang who were around to alternately tease and help Tin, most especially Toy and Fang. Toy is a sweetheart and a gossip who never misses a trick, and Fang is an actual badass who first cracked the case with that evil doctor and saved Tin's life. They are fabulous. Rit was also an excellent character with a lot of complexity and he added some much needed depth to the school storyline (does anyone else think he was basically the proto-DFF Non?). And while Mai and Heart were not my favorite people, I did appreciate that the show gave them a sympathetic portrayal instead of making them evil villains (we had the organ harvesters for that).

That beautiful clocktower

I must give a shoutout to this gorgeous clocktower featured in several important scenes. I got so excited every time it showed up. Fun fact: in the first clocktower scene I was like oh hey I recognize that from gifs, but it can't be that scene because it's too early for a kis--TIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING! (I was right, it was too early for a kiss and Tol was Big Mad but bless you for going for it anyway, Tin).

The romance is balanced and rootable

And on that note, let me give a shoutout to the romance part of this story for actually feeling balanced. This is not an epic swoony love affair, but more a story of two people putting in the time to understand and empathize with each other. Sometimes in these kind of time loop stories the romance can end up feeling very one-sided because one character is holding all the knowledge and all the cards. But in this show we have the neat trick of Tol taking over the loop to try to save Tin in the final arc, which means he got to go through a similar process of getting to know the darkest version of his lover and figuring out how to get through to him. I was delighted by all the events of the long loop playing out again, but this time with Tin being the obstinate one. Tol got a taste of his own medicine and it left me feeling like they were both equally invested in this relationship.

TL;DR: If you haven't watched this yet, you really should! It's a fast binge and a great time with some Thai BL favorites. It's unfortunately still not available for international streaming, but it's very easy to find grey now and it's worth the effort. Go forth!

[k-hotchoisan]

Congrats on the 500!!!!! Sooo….. thoughts on number 12? 👀

12. Threesome with Yungi with woosan watching or Threesome with Seongjoong with Jongsang filming you?

Sorry it’s the size kink for me with Yungi 😃😃😃

Warnings: smut, pwp, threesome, being pinned in between yungi 🤤, voyeurism, unprotected sex

Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @minkysmilk (saw your req LOL)

K’s 500: this or that?

You let out a shaky breath as you watch Yunho’s cock pull out of you, and you’re creaming all over him again, mixed with pathetic whines that obviously came from no one else but you. Yunho looks sickeningly satisfied, watching you unravel like that in front of him. His cock pops out of you and you groan at the emptiness. Mingi has decorated your neck and shoulder blades with pretty marks.

You feel your cunt convulse once more, spitting more cream. Fuck, it’s not enough. You needed more. You shift and give your attention to the male behind you, squeezing his arm. Mingi plants more kisses on your temple.

“Use your words, princess”, Mingi reminds you as he strokes your hair back as you fully face him now.

“Need you to fill me”, you barely manage out, and the prospect of being filled up by another huge cock was starting to melt any ounce of rationale you had left.

Mingi chuckles as he turns your around again, and you’re facing Yunho. You’re watching him fuck his hand as Mingi sits on you on his cock, making you gasp when you’re filled up to the brim once again. Your eyes roll back, soaking in the feeling of your cunt being used once more, and Mingi has your arms held behind your back as he begins fucking you from below. Your breaths turn shaky once again, as your cunt tries to accommodate Mingi’s girth every time you sink down onto him.

“Adorable. So fucking adorable”, Yunho sighs, stroking your slackened jaw before eating up all your whimpers and moans with his lips. “I love it when she’s like that, so fucked out and dumb, just there to take whoever’s dick is available to her.” You pussy squeezes Mingi at that comment, and Mingi groans, giving you a slap on your ass.

“And I think we’ve got company”, Mingi comments, nodding to the door left ajar. The two males caught red handed stare at three of you, like deers in headlights.

“Come in, Wooyoung, San”, the elder male calls out. San curses as he pushes Wooyoung in.

“Fucking told you we should have just left”, San chides, despite himself, growing hard as a rock. He’s barely keeping his eyes off you—sucked into a trance whenever your ass bounces off Mingi’s hips.

“Mmm, it’s San and Woo”, you giggle, only to sob when Mingi’s cock hits your cervix once more.

“I can’t tell who’s the bigger pervert—them or you—getting off being caught fucking by your favourite boys”, Mingi teases as he gives your nipples another roll, and you bite your lip, your eyes never leaving the two males seated before you. It was so fucking humiliating to be seen like this—your cunt being pounded by Mingi while Wooyoung and San stare on, periodically licking their lips and swallowing hard, with their cocks forming a thick bulge against their sweats, and you have a sense of pride that swells up in you that you know that you’re the reason why they’re like this. It’s the way their attention is all on you, watching you pant and cry while Yunho fucks your mouth, fluids dripping from both sides of your holes.

“Fuck! You’re squeezing me again, princess. You’re really such a slut for getting all wet again just from being watched. You adore all of this attention, don’t you?”

Another palm lands on your ass, and you jolt forward, unintentionally taking in more of Yunho in front of you, who is also gradually losing his mind from the way your throat is constructing his dick. Muffled groans are the only thing you can manage out until Yunho suddenly pulls out of your mouth and his cocks slaps your cheek. He pumps his cock and by instinct, you stick your tongue out. You make the mistake to glance over at the two perverts and you see them palming their erections as their eyelids grow heavier.

Your head is forced to face up to Yunho as he fingers curl around your jaw to shift your gaze upwards and you look up at him through your lashes. “Attention here, princess”, he reminds you with a smile. “I’m gonna make you so pretty.” He barely holds back his grunts as his cock paints your face and lips with his cum. Yunho bites the inside of his cheek, watching the way you look so glazed out and pretty while taking his cum onto your face. He thinks you look so fucking stunning.

Mingi doesn’t give you any warning when his cock twitches in you before he tightens his grip on your hips as he pushes himself all the way in, causing you to fall front a little bit but Yunho catches you in time, and your cunt flutters on Mingi’s cock as ropes of cum decorate your walls. You’re crying. You’re crying because it feels so fucking heavenly, and Yunho is wiping your cum and tear stained cheeks, but he never lets you get up, making sure Mingi empties everything he has inside of you.

“That’s a good girl”, Yunho hums as he wipes the fluids off your face with a towel from the bed. You’re staring him with such a fucked out expression that you don’t even process what Mingi is saying behind you. Mingi groans as he pulls out of you, watching the way his cum pulls a thick string from your cunt before he pushes it all back into your pussy with his fingers, soaking in more whimpers from you.

San and Wooyoung are almost forgotten, their sweats are fucking soaked as they watch the scene unfold right before them. Mingi catches their gaze as he sits you onto his and Yunho’s lap, spreading your legs wide fucking open for both boys before them.

San tries his best to control his breathing and Wooyoung swallows hard, looking at the way your cunt releases small loads of your cream and Mingi’s cum out, accompanied by your pathetic whines.

“Do you think they should fuck you?” Yunho asks, drawing small circles around your clit before using his index and middle fingers to tug your abused hole open, your cunt clenching uselessly at the air.

You look up at the pent up boys, head woozy from pleasure, barely recovering from the round you had with Yunho and Mingi.

“Why the fuck not?” You reply with a pretty smile.

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 - Relapse | Chapter 7

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word Count: 4.1k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

You awoke with the King’s arms wrapped around you. His head rested above yours and his abdomen cradled your back. You slowly shuffled until you were facing him. All of his eyes still hid away in slumber as his mouth laid gently parted to release unfettered breaths. You smiled at how cute he looked. So peacefully sleeping and completely unaware of his surroundings. A dark thought of how easy it’d be to end him, the way his eyes would look when he realized his mistake of trusting you crossed your mind. You reached your hand up and caressed his face, pushing the thought away. After a few passes of your hand you felt him lean into your touch, face turning slightly to kiss your hand.

“G’morning brat”, he mumbled through groggy lips. His eyes peaked open at you, a smile constructing itself on his lips as he took your groggy features in. He reached one of his hands up to tuck your hair behind your ear and smooth your morning flyaways.

“Good morning Lord Spooky”, you said as you smiled back. You could genuinely say you were happy to wake up in his arms this morning. Last night, he was so caring with you. He kept you held in his lap while he cleaned you of your mixed cum, kissing you gently while he did. And then he helped you dry off before dressing you in his clothes and making sure you ate enough dinner. That was just the kind of night you needed after your nightmare. If he had tried to dominate you last night, you might’ve broken and killed him. The visits of your past had become more frequent since you came here. The feeling of being trapped taking you back to when you actually were. But right now, all that weight felt gone. Here in his arms, you felt untouchable.

He chuckled at his new nickname before pulling you into his chest. He hugged you tight, hand still smoothing your hair. He couldn’t help but keep beaming as he felt peace for the first time in a long time. The energy between you two wasn’t feral or explosive right now. No, it was calming. It felt like you two were finally on the same wavelength. Neither of you were mad at each other, both of you were just enjoying each other’s company. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he had been having nightmares of your lifeless body. The moment your head fell into the water playing over and over in his mind. The memory of how much you hated him, the way he could feel how you felt about him. You were filled with such anger and disgust towards him. It brought long thought dead parts of his psyche back to life just to bring all consuming pain to the rest of him. He was used to just killing people or having subservient subordinates, but those weren’t options with you. In all his years, this was the first time he has been forced to face a situation like this— forced to feel like this.

“Kuna”, you called out. His name muffled from how he had buried you into his chest.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Are you hungry”, you asked as you managed to pull your head back and look at him.

A fox’s smile frolicked upon his face as one of his hands caressed along your jaw. “Hmm I would say I am hungry for many things, what are you offering”. His hand softly marked ownership of your face with his thumb as he awaited your answer.

You chuckled a little and broke his gaze which prompted him to lift your chin. For some stupid childish reason your cheeks were growing hot as he stared at you. “I- uhm well I suppose I am open to anything if you ask very nicely”, you stuttered out. Usually you were great at flirting and being a cocky little shit about it, but usually you didn’t feel anything for the other person. Usually you knew that relationships like this were not a long term option for you, but this time was different. He wouldn’t find something out that would scare or disgust him so much he would run away. You wouldn’t ever have to hide your thoughts because you knew his were just as fucked up and demented. Not to mention he is the King which would make you a Queen and you weren’t against that title. It had a nice ring to it. It was strange though. Scary even. You had never considered what it would feel like to find someone who mirrored you. How vulnerable and sometimes gruelling it was to look at your reflection. You internally roasted yourself for having such feelings as you watched his smile grow from your inability to properly construct words.

He drew his face closer to yours. “Anything I want? And all I have to do is ask nicely”, he asked as he started leaving light kisses along your face. He gripped your hips and pulled you close to his hardening cocks, his lips greeting your neck with suckling. Purple promises bloomed across your skin like unspoken bonds sealed within. His teeth grazed over each spot as if begging to sign them in blood and be forever intertwined with you. Request for permission to claim your blood as his once more was interrupted with a knock.

“Who in the hell is it”, he said while lifting his head, one hand covering your ear so the shout wouldn’t hurt it. You smiled to yourself from the show of affection. You kissed and sucked on his exposed neck muscles while he waited for the door’s assailant to reveal themselves. Hands teasingly ghosting over the top of his pubic bone.

“It’s Uruame, my King”, the voice declared.

A smile made its way onto your face as you felt the affects your actions were having. You could hear his breath get lost in his throat as the instinct to pull you closer and grind himself in between your legs took over. You allowed your teeth to continue their assault on the promises you gave him. One assault led to the breaking of skin and the way he twitched against you as his hips bucked slightly made your core ache. Your tongue lapped at his skin in fervent apologies and taunting. He let out a low groan before asking, “And what in the hell possessed you to interrupt my morning, Uruame?”

“The Lord of Kurashiki is here for his meeting with you, my King. Would you like me to reschedule?”

Yes, actually he would like to reschedule and spend the morning with his cocks buried inside you instead. He pulled you off his neck and kissed you, his mouth reclaiming some of his blood off your tongue before pulling away with a displeased sigh. “No, I will meet him in the throne room in 20 minutes”, he said with lack of enthusiasm.

“Yes, my King, I shall notify him.”

“Do you want me to go with you”, you asked as you stretched your limbs and yawned.

“No, there’s not a need. His mind is disgusting and he wouldn’t benefit from crossing me, so I'll save you the sight of his thoughts”, he said while pulling his arms away from you and sitting up. He threw the blanket off of himself and got out of bed. You rolled onto your stomach, propped yourself up on your elbows, and drank in the sight of him in all his glory. Tattoos running over honed muscles, hair still messy from sleep, and both of his cocks standing upright against his lower abdomen. You bit your bottom lip and your thighs involuntarily clenched together at the dirty thoughts flooding your body.

He looked down at how you ogled him and smirked. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be back to spread those holes wide open soon enough. Until then, you have the morning to yourself”, he said as he started dressing. After staying a few nights with him, you learned that he did most things himself when in his room. You were actually the only other person allowed in here.

You pouted a little as you got up from the bed. “Hmm, okay. I guess I can let you go for now”, you said as you walked towards him. You put yourself in front of him in the mirror as you leaned against him. You grabbed one of your boobs as you lifted a leg and spread your bottom lips with your fingers. In the mirror you could clearly see that you were dripping, little trails trickling down your thighs. You locked eyes with him in the mirror before leaning your head back to look up at him. You put your now wet fingers in front of his lips, his mouth immediately opening to take them in. He sucked your cum off of them while you smiled. “Just be sure you keep your word”, you said before pulling away from him. You walked over to the folded clothes he left for you and started dressing. His eyes followed your figure and he genuinely considered blowing off all his duties for the day and becoming a mess of limbs with you instead. A dissatisfied growl sounded from him as he finished getting ready and realized he was actually choosing his duties over you. If the Lord of Kurashiki wasn’t such a powerful connection he would’ve, but instead he was turning you around to kiss you goodbye before leaving.

You had decided to use your day off to train seeing as it was the most productive way to pass time. You dragged your feet to the training grounds, wishing you were still in bed with Sukuna instead. You cursed Uruame for interrupting you two and the Lord of whatever for having an appointment. It was selfish, but you wanted the King all to yourself today. Things had been different between the two of you– better. You wanted to milk every last drop of it. But instead, you were turning the corner of the training grounds. Flashes of Uruame attacking you flooded your mind. You laughed at the thought of him believing he could take you on. And you laughed harder at the punishment he received for it.

“Woah, careful there. With that kind of laugh you’re starting to look crazy”, Suguru said from where he stood on the training grounds.

You looked over at him and your eyes lit up. It had been so long since you had seen him and he would make time pass quickly for sure. “Suguru! You’re here”, you shouted as you ran over to him. “Thank the gods, I thought I was going to be bored out of my mind training alone. Have you just started? Or are you finishing”, you asked.

He held up his hands as if fending off your excitement and barrage of questions. “Uhm, I guess somewhere in the middle”, he answered as if he was unsure.

“Oh, okay good. We can train together then. I thought I was going to have to train with Miro again”, you answered as you started stretching.

“Miro”, Suguru questioned.

You looked over to him and realized he didn’t know about him. You smiled real big as you summoned him. Geto jumped back as a circle of mist formed on the ground and out crawled Miro. “You can summon curses too?”

You looked at him and blinked. “You can summon curses?”

“Yes, dumbass that’s why I said “too "", he retorted.

“Yeah well you’re the dumbass if all you can do is just summon them”, you shot back while crossing your arms. Miro smiled and also crossed his arms as he nodded along.

“Yes, my Lady created me. If all you can do is summon regular curses then you are indeed a dumbass”, Miro backed up.

Suguru just blinked at Miro. “Woah, he talks so well. You really made him”, he asked. He walked up close to him and started examining him. Miro began strutting his stuff, lifting his arms and contorting his legs into different poses. You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked.

“What are his powers”, Suguru asked.

“He can reanimate the dead and store them. Oftentimes he modifies them to be stronger or just look how he thinks they should be”, you responded.

“Oooh my Lady speaks so fondly of me but I am only made in her image. Only operating with a fraction of her power. All in her name hehehe all for her”, he began rambling on about your greatness and before long he was bowing at your feet. His mouth foamed from heavy breathed laughter as he begged you to bless him with a show of your strength.

You and Geto watched him with growing disgust before exchanging looks between each other. “Yea, it makes sense that you made him now”, he said as he disregarded him and went back to training his energy..

“Wow, and just like that you’re back to being uninterested, huh”, you asked.

He looked over at you and smirked. “Well, you see, I was going to have you make one for me but seeing how he turned out… I think I am good”, he relayed nonchalantly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “So you look down on him for being a little crazy when he would hand you your ass in a fight”, you taunted.

“First of all, he is way more than a little crazy. Second of all, your little pet doesn’t stand a chance against me”, he argued.

“Wanna bet?”

He stopped what he was doing and turned towards you, eyebrows piqued with interest. “Depends, what are the stakes?”

“Hmm, I’ll be nice and let you decide what you want if I lose. However, if you lose, you have to bow before me and admit that you were unworthy of challenging my creations”, you explained.

Geto stared at you before releasing a scoffing chuckle, “Fine, fine, I’ll accept that. But when I win, you will not only create me a powerful curse of my choosing, you will also stand in as one of my servants for a whole day”, he solidified.

Your jaw dropped. “Wooww. Actually, I want to add that to mine. I recently lost two servants, so you can fill in for a day”, you amended while nodding.

“How did you lose two servants? Are they hiding from you?”

“Uhmm not exactly. I am pretty sure Sukuna killed them because they were close to me”, you explained.

Geto stared at you for a few minutes before taking a few steps back from you. “Noted”, he said with a nod. You offered an awkward laugh before clearing your throat.

“Miro, you better win. If you lose you are dead to me and not getting summoned again”, you childishly said while walking to the side of the training grounds.

Miro’s face lost its twisted delight and was replaced with a seriousness he was not known to possess. He walked to the center of the court until he was standing a few feet in front of Suguru. The air became thick as languid power gushed from Miro. A smile grew onto his lips, abandoning the rest of his serious facade. Four chained coffins bloomed from black pools opening in the ground. As they fully emerged, the black sank away along with the chains. All four doors swing open at once. In unison, Miro’s creations stepped from their confines and revealed their forms.

The smug air that surrounded Geto turned against him and began to suffocate him as he recognized the four. They were all from the once renowned Zenin clan. He had heard that they all went silent and hadn’t been heard from in a while. Geto let out a chuckle as he began to understand their absence. Fuck me man. Those assholes were notorious when alive. As a beefed up zombie? I can only imagine what they’re like. Dread wound its way up Geto’s body, ready to go in for the constricting slaughter, but with the raise of Geto’s hands, its hold was dispelled. His own dark blotches polluted the earth and within an instant a white dragon charged forward straight towards Miro. The dragon’s jaw surrounded his abdomen, biting down. Miro’s body was dragged backwards with the dragon until his skin and bones lost their connections and his body dropped on two sides of the dragon as it continued in its path.

“Looks like your little pet wasn’t quite up to par, huh (Y/N)?” Suguru’s face lit up with a shit eating grin as his dragon returned to his side. His untamed smugness was reigned in when the sides of his dragon’s abdomen began to protrude oddly. The affected areas stretched until you could see the imprint of hands pushing and tearing within the beast. A painful roar ripped throughout the arena as the dragon lost control of its body. Without command, it flopped on its side and repeatedly bashed itself into the ground in an attempt to stop the onslaught being bared by its insides. Just when the hands were ready to bore through, the dragon heaved forth the contents of its stomach. Covered in bile stood Miro’s missing torso, hands and other deformed limbs bubbled from it as it skittered towards its missing pieces. Miro’s head laid smiling as his feet approached him. His abdomen jumped on top of his hips and his shoulders climbed up the body until he was standing just like before.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that Miro’s body holds no vitality? Destroying him will be a little more complex than tearing him apart”, you said while smirking.

In the middle of your sentence, the head of Geto’s dragon began to tilt oddly before slowly slipping across its freshly revealed flesh onto the ground. Blood began to spew in lines from all over its body until it collapsed in pieces. In the middle of the gore stood a tall muscular man wrapped in a tight black shirt and flowing pants. He held onto a sword and dagger, both drenched in the rainbow dragon’s blood. A smirk grew upon his lifeless face, a face that was once equally feared and revered— Toji Fushiguro’s face. “I guess yours don’t put themselves back together”, Miro taunted through Toji’s body.

Geto raised his hand to summon another spirit but as soon as he did he screamed out in pain. It appeared as if the cause was invisible but in the wind you could see thread faintly glisten. Miro had taken advantage of Geto’s attention being on his dead companion and trapped him. Each of his limbs was now tightly bound and ready to be puppeteered. If he followed along, there would be no pain, but if he resisted even slightly it would cut through his bones.

You watched as Miro drew closer to Suguru until they were face to face. “Is this all you have? I thought I was mad and incapable of holding a light to your battle prowess. What happened? Where’s all that bravado you had before”, he taunted with a smile. On the edge of his words were pure spite. To him, he not only offended his capabilities, but yours. He was made in your image, your favorite toy and most loyal servant. If he was not capable then that would be calling you incapable.

Anger flickered across Sugeru’s features for half a second before he smiled with Miro. He could throw out more, but it was clear this wasn’t a battle where he would come out unscathed. In the interest of not feeling pain, he looked at you. “Uncle?”

You laughed at his pitiful forfeit and Miro’s shock from how quickly he gave up. He wanted to punish him further for his transgressions. “No, he can’t be done, we barely fought”, he protested.

“Release him Miro”, you ordered. You expected about as much. You didn’t figure Suguru to be the type to keep pushing into a fight he wasn’t absolutely certain he could dominate if he didn’t have to.

Miro glared at Suguru as he dispelled his threads and used them to pull Toji back into his box. He stomped back to the coffins fuming. This was his chance to show off, but he didn’t even get to showcase 3 of out 4 of his favorite toys and he barely got to showcase one. He let out a disgruntled rant under his breath as he sank with them into the in between.

You walked to Geto and grabbed his hand, an action that took him by surprise. He tried to pull it back but you held firm. “Relax, you’re not going to get killed for this”, you assured him. You allowed your power to seep into him to mend his hand and he could feel it. When he spoke to Uruame after the incident, he said your healing felt strange. Like you were going inside of them and merging for a second. He could feel your power hum through his veins, feel every emotion you felt at that moment. For Uruame, it was hate and enjoyment, but for him it was happiness, care, and of course, lots of unrelenting cockiness. It felt like a warm, safe blanket enveloping him from the inside. If he felt like this, he could only imagine what Sukuna felt. He merged with you in more ways than one. He didn’t buy Sukuna being nice or wanting to change for you but this feeling made everything a little more clear. He was sure he would do unheard of things if given the opportunity to feel more of it.

You looked up at Geto who you noticed had been staring at you for quite some time. You had set and reconnected his bones and tissue, so at first you thought he was staring at you to not look at his hand or in amazement. But now you were done and he was still looking. It happened the first time you healed any of your friends. Nanami had actually pinned you against the counter of the closed bar and taken you right then and there.

Knowing that scenario was absolutely not an option here, you cleared your throat. His gaze widened slightly as he zoned back in and then he returned your throat clearing as he withdrew his hand. “I better not get killed for you healing me, I will haunt your ass”.

You laughed and promised him that you wouldn’t let that happen. You sighed and stretched before using your senses to reach out for Sukuna. You found him not super far away, he actually seemed to be approaching the training grounds accompanied with another. The presence felt familiar, but also completely unfamiliar to you. Maybe you had met a relative of the visitor you thought. You might’ve pondered longer if giddiness wasn’t blanketing your senses in a mind numbing need to see Sukuna. You started towards the gate they were coming to but stopped in your tracks as they came around the corner.

His companion smiled widely as he looked you up and down, “Long time, no see, Little Dove”.

You froze as the smell of musty pine filled your senses. Bile rose in your throat and your body temperature dropped. Your limbs felt like stone as you simply stared at him with wide eyes. Just being in his presence had your mind being overridden by anxiety and fear. Sukuna and Geto looked between the two of you, not oblivious to the fact you were not okay. Sukuna could feel the jumbled up emotions ricocheting inside you as your body seemed to have shut down. Geto reached out for you, but you didn’t feel his touch. You didn’t feel anything. Sukuna’s mouth moved but all you could hear right now was your own heartbeat. Your gaze found imprisonment to the man’s face. That smile brought forth memories of the laugh behind it, you could feel it curl against your skin. The present seemed to constantly glitch back to the past, the scenery of the palace changing to the darkness of your cell. Black grew from the border of your vision until it covered your eyes completely. You felt your consciousness fade as the power within you took over.

Sukuna grabbed you and tried to get you to calm down as Geto set his power to the man who seemed to set you off. He wasn’t sure why he did, but he for sure didn’t want to see what scared you. None of it mattered though. With her in control, none of them would be left when you came back. Maybe nothing at all would be left.

Notes: I am mentally ill again which means I am creative once again hehe. Next chapter later this week. Extras below

- Miro is literally still in the in between screaming and rolling on the floor. Geto ruined everything for him. He had so much more to show you. He wanted to make you proud and have you know that he would forever take care of you. Man is seriously yandere for you and doesn’t even try to hide it. He just wants you to be happy and pay attention to him in any way

- Geto obviously has some feelings for the reader but doesnt have a death wish so he would never act on them. If Sukuna found out he wouldn’t kill him though. Instead, he would constantly flaunt you in front of him and how he was allowed to touch you. If he was really feeling it he might even let him touch you, but that would mean Geto would be in more danger cause Kuna would kill him if he overstepped in any way. Or at least make him wish he was dead since he knows you value his companionship.

- Nanami got pretty cut up in a fight when you guys were younger. When you were healing him he started silently crying while staring at you. He never felt so warm and whole inside. He started kissing you and one thing led to another next thing you know you guys fucked in the once abandoned bar he now runs. The sex was very good. The kinda dorky loner you had grown up with was slowly turning into a man with smoldering intensity and authoritative features. You really considered a life with him. But the life you considered was selfish. Nanami would be kept under lock and key so that no one could take him from you too early. He was so fragile and weak compared to what you knew was out there after all. You would give him everything he ever wanted in return. It all genuinely seemed like a viable plan to you and that’s what made you pull away. You never wanted to own another human like that.

Taglist: @missroro @roxytheimmortal @reneki

[gumnut-logic]

Thoughts on Tracys

Well, I did dig into my fic folder and did find the ‘Thoughts on Tracy brothers’ fic and yeah, I left it at just Scott. Sorry. Must see if I can continue that one at some point now that I even know it exists.

But I did find something else. This is me in early 2020, before Covid hit, fortunately, as I had an infected foot at the time and could barely walk.

-o-o-o-

I was re-reading part of my Kermadec fic and encountered the bit where Scott comes across the hot spring and it occurred to me the difference between Scott and Virgil as to how they interpret their environment. This led me to thinking about characterisation and point of view and how you write a character to sound like themselves. Then, because I’m lying idle around the house with a mild headache and a bung foot, I pondered how each of the five brothers might interpret the same scene. I sat their idly constructing scenes in my head and how this might illustrate how a character thinks.

So, now because I’m still sitting around the house with a mild headache and a bung foot, I thought I’d give this exercise a go...cos actually writing one of my many wips would be far too logical ::headdesk::

Anyways, five brothers, same beach, same time of day. Let’s see if I can make them sound like themselves....and not end up writing another wip :D Note: these scenes are separate and unrelated to each other...just flotsam my brain threw up. Guess which brother is which?

-o-o-o-

His running shoes hit the sand hard, gouging holes in the pristine surface. The air was still and clear, the ocean quiet, his breathing drowning out the sound of the waves. This was his third lap, but his first step onto this beach. He usually avoided this patch of sand because it was Virgil’s favourite and often the place his brother came to be alone. But today was a day that wouldn’t see Virgil outside the villa. Not today, not tomorrow, not for some time at all.

His breathing lost its regular pace and he had to force himself to concentrate harder on his rhythm.

His feet hit the sand and he kept on running.

-o-o-o-

There were times being a brother of the commander of this outfit really sucked.

One foot after the other. Scott may feel exuberant at this time of the morning, but honestly, this time should not exist.

He was only awake because the smart ass had called a drill. God. He ran a hand through his hair and guzzled the coffee that was automatically poured into his face.

He swore Scott did it because of his comment about Thunderbird One’s erotic symbolism yesterday. But hey, he was the one who had compared Two to a pregnant turtle.

Turtles lay eggs, you idiot.

But that hadn’t been enough, so he’d resorted to a dick joke.

And had been dragged out of bed at 5am.

Ergh.

His staggering finally led him to the beach and the moment he stepped onto the sand, the breeze caught him and brushed away his frown.

A sigh fell from his lips and he closed his eyes.

The sounds of the ocean caressed his ears and washed away the aggravation. The calm seeped into his bones and his shoulders dropped.

But he kept his grip on his mug of coffee.

Another sip.

Another grateful sigh.

And a plan began to form.

-o-o-o-

Before he knew it the sun was peeking over the edge of the planet and the stars were fading.

His butt and back were damp from lying on the sand.

There was dry seaweed in his hair.

He reached up and untangled the mess, frowning as it caught and pulled. Ow.

It wasn’t often he used a beach for stargazing, but he hadn’t had the energy to climb the stairs to the observatory and to be honest, he wasn’t looking for a specific event, more just comfort in the familiar.

He had come out here in the early hours, his circadian rhythm still slightly off and done his best to connect with what he loved.

He had forgotten the inconveniences of sand, mosquitoes and was that a crab?

He shifted his leg out of reach and clambered to his feet.

The sun flashed everything gold, including him.

A sigh and he turned to walk back to the house.

-o-o-o-

One of the advantages of living on your own secret tropical island is that he could run around in whatever clothes he wanted and not have to worry about what the public might think.

A pair of flip flops and his swimwear, mostly because it was just after his morning laps. Specimen bags in hand, he headed down to the beach to check on the morning’s finds.

The ocean was still puking up stuff from the storm that passed to the south of the Island two weeks ago and he was making sure to check the beaches every morning to see what treasures might surface. One of the things about cyclones is that they churned the ocean as much as the land and often interesting things appeared with the tide as a result.

Fortunately the storm hadn’t actually hit the Island itself and the beach was on the protected side, otherwise there may have been no beach left to comb. This time the conditions were perfect and he wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity.

Clambering around the Island in flip flops would probably earn him several frowns from several quarters, but to be honest he didn’t care.

From the moment his feet hit the sand, he was discovering and cataloguing. Three different types of sponge all seen before. A nasty chunk of the rare kelp from that isolated patch to the south, damn. An array of shells of which one he was unable to identify. He grabbed that one for identification purposes and one other simply because it was pretty and he knew a brother who might like it.

He found the waves tossing about a large chunk of broken coral and he swore. Damn. Cyclones were nasty to reefs and they took eons to repair.

The worst find was a relatively small mola mola. The young sunfish looked like it had been caught up in an argument between the surf and the volcanic rocks of the island.

He carefully picked it up and placed it in a bag, commemorative words for a life lost passing through his mind as he sealed it tight. Size and details would be sent to the NZ DoC south of their island for research purposes.

Reaching the end of the beach he turned back and trailed his feet in the water. A glance at the rising sun and he headed back.

-o-o-o-

He bounded onto the beach and kicked the sand with his foot. This was so unfair! Why couldn’t he do what everyone else was doing?

He stomped his feet into the sand and took some satisfaction in the deep divots his feet left behind.

The water was whispering as if to herald the rise of the sun.

He didn’t like it.

It mocked him.

Why? Why? Why?

The question bounced around his head and just fuelled his anger.

There was a roar and the island shook as behind him Thunderbird One leapt into the air. Further in the distance he heard the deeper rumble as Two ignited her rear thrusters and a moment later the great green ‘bird appeared over the palm trees and shot off into the distance, Thunderbird One darting down to escort her.

Both were lit up by the sun.

His heart was caught between pride at the sight, and the anger that he wasn’t with them.

As they disappeared in the sunrise, he glared after them.

-o-o-o-

Okay, that exercise did not go exactly the way I had planned, but I hope you enjoyed these little snippets. I hope you can tell which bro is which. I haven’t really gone to any effort to hide them and I’m kinda hoping it is obvious. Maybe take note of the bits of information that give it away?

Or which bros I’m better at writing, maybe :D

Fun to write. I hope they are fun to read.

::hugs you all::

Nutty

(Yeah, well, my brain is weird, I can’t help myself)

[tigerincahoots]

closed starter for: @dethenryquinn

IT WAS HALLOWEEN NIGHT. That one time of the year when all the fucking psychos would go even more psycho than usual and end up making a mess of things. Just ask Michael Meyers and Art, the Clown in that department. And Kevin HATED Halloween with a burning passion. He respected the whole spun tales on how the veil between the dead and the living became thinner that day – he had seen some shit – but he absolutely despised the insurmountable number of brats running around and ringing bells asking for a trick or treat. The only good thing about that was that he was working that night. Not that detective work was for him but new assignments required new rules and he had to pose as a damn homicide detective to track down the monster he was supposed to neutralize. His background had been flawlessly constructed to fit the bill and now...? Now he was just playing the waiting game in his office alongside his new-but-maybe-not-that-much partner.

HE FUCKING HATED BEING SOCIAL.

”HOW TYPICAL IS IT FOR A MURDER TO HAPPEN TONIGHT?” His question is carefree. His glance turns to the other detective – Henry Quinn - as Kevin tosses random coloured gummy bears into the air to catch them with an open mouth. He would much rather be out there. Hunting. That’s what he was good at. Tracking people down and bringing them back dead or alive. The waiting game was not for him. Being idle drove him insane, which could be reflected in the occasional grumpy comment addressed to no one. “Like, are we just supposed to stay here? Sitting down, scratching our balls and comparing dick sizes while waiting for someone to just call us?” Gods, that shit was tedious. “We hit the road back on my old precinct.” A lie but he needed to play his role as a detective. “Fuck knows how many psychos are going out tonight. And I am not talking about the brats…”

[mrsportgas]

Ghost Ridders Cap.2

#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with  him on a visit to a New World´s  island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All  while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.

This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabondy for the first time.

The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡

Feel free to interact, likes and comments are very welcome!!!!!!! Suggestions and constructive criticism are also appreciated.

Images are for more inspiration!!!!!

ACE'S POV I decided to sink into the water, so I grabbed the edge of the bathtub to maintain my balance since the water drains my energy. The supply run hadn’t gone as planned, but kicking that Celestial Dragon’s fat ass had been way more fun. Plus, there was a new entertainment: Marco’s sister. It had been a long time since someone new joined the crew.

We’d be reaching the Moby Dick soon, so I’d better hurry. I didn’t want to miss anything. I jumped out of the bathtub, ready to grab the towel that was hanging on the edge, when suddenly a silhouette quickly slid across the floor toward the exit. This silhouette wasn’t entirely familiar, yet not completely unknown either. That robe… was it… MARCO’S SISTER?

A smirk adorned my face. ¿Was she spying on me? ¿What was she doing here while I was bathing? Whatever the case, I would definitely use this situation to provoke some laughs and, who knows, maybe start a conversation. After all, she’s cute.

YOUR POV Everything went silent, but only for a few seconds before being interrupted by firm, quick footsteps moving down the hallway. When they seemed to be far away enough, I opened the door. The boy had left the bathroom, and his silhouette was barely visible at the end of the long hallway. It was the perfect opportunity to go back and finally get washed up.

After the bath, I dressed and tried to pull my hair into something between a ponytail and a bun. My hair was a mess, but given the situation, that was the least of my concerns. I put on a white shirt and some shorts that Marco had left on the infirmary bed, just as I heard a voice calling out getting closer.

“We’ve arrived. ¿Are you ready?” Marco said as he opened the door. “I’ve already spoken to Pops… well, Whitebeard. He’s waiting for you.”

I didn’t really know what to say, so I just followed him off the ship and onto one of the largest ships I had ever seen. On deck, a group of countless pirates crowded around something—or rather, someone—while others were busy loading and unloading various supplies between ships.

Marco headed to the center of the circle, making his way through the curious stares. Stares that were now directed at me. Shame and, above all, fear took hold of me as I tried to figure out what was happening and what awaited me.

Finally, in the center of the enormous circle formed by Whitebeard’s massive crew stood the largest man I had ever seen. Although he seemed to be teetering between life and death, his mere presence made my entire body tremble. He was strong, very strong—one of the strongest men I’d ever seen. I could feel it.

“Come closer, little one.” I approached as much as my trembling body allowed, without making eye contact with the man. “Speak. ¿Who are you?” he asked as I remained silent.

“I’m Marco’s sister,” I said, prompting an outburst of laughter from the crew.

“She’s a creep who likes watching me bathe.” The dark-haired boy pushed his way through the crowd and with a big smile on his face he stood right behind Whitebeard.

This time, the laughter was even louder. My face turned red, burning like the midday sun. ¿Did he see me? ¿But how? I swear he couldn’t have… It was impossible; there was too much steam… Agh! I can’t stand him, and on top of that, he says this in front of the whole crew. Fury slowly took over my entire body.

Then Whitebeard’s voice silenced everyone. “I already know who you are; Marco told me. Now, show me.” Whitebeard frowned and continued with a serious expression. “¿How do I know I can trust you? ¿Do you want to be part of this family?”

“I have nowhere to go,” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“You need me, but ¿Why would I need you, girl?”

Terror began to grip me again, but this time it wasn’t because of the imposing figure in front of me. It was because of the loneliness and the thought of Saint Roswald reporting that I had escaped, and soon enough, CP0 would come searching for me. The mere idea of facing all of this alone gave me chills.

I looked at Marco for help. He responded by signaling for me to show Whitebeard my “worth.” But that voice… it echoed in my head over and over again… “If they find out who you really are, consider yourself a dead girl.” But I had to survive, and it was better to have allies than to be alone. If Marco trusted them, maybe I could too.

Whitebeard’s patience was wearing thin, and he proceeded: “Alright, you’ll face six of my commanders, one by one. If you defeat them, you can stay. If not, you’ll have to leave when you’re fully recovered.”

A wave of cheers and laughter filled the ship’s deck. Whitebeard raised a hand, and with it, everyone fell silent. “Izou, Haruta, Namur, Vista, Jozu, Ace… Defeat her. Oh, and Thatch… bring some sake; my throat is getting dry.”

The crew cheered again. “This is going to be fun,” Ace said with that stupid smile that was starting to get on my nerves. Maybe I could wipe it off his face—it was the perfect opportunity.

The only one who wasn’t cheering, laughing, or even smiling was Marco. Faced with Whitebeard’s proposal, he feared for his little sister’s safety. “Pops… that’s too much, maybe excessive. ¿Don’t you think? Let me talk to her, please she will show you. ” he begged Whitebeard.

“Begin, I’m starting to get bored,” Whitebeard said, ignoring Marco’s begs. “Ace, give me the key to the girl’s cuffs,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

“I don’t have any key, and besides, if you take off her cuffs… what fun would that be?” Ace added with his annoying smile.

“¡ACE!”

“Okay, okay, ¡¡going!!… Someone’s in a hurry today.…” Ace got up from his seat and walked towards me with the keys. ¿How this idiot have the keys to my cuffs? “You seem intrigued, peeping tom,” he said as he approached me. “The truth is... it was too easy to snatch this key from that fatass Celestial Dragon.” He grabbed my hands, and my stomach flipped; my cheeks turned pink, burning like fire again. ¡¿What’s happening to me?! ¿¡Am I blushing because of this idiot?! Ugh, no way. Maybe it’s just because he makes me so angry. Yes.....¡ yes!.

He quickly inserted the key and released the Sea Stone cuffs. A strange sensation shook my body—¿Was it energy? ¿Happiness? ¿Relief? I don’t know. But it had been a long time since I felt so good. “Good luck, sweetheart,” Ace whispered in my ear. In my ear… ¿When did he get so close? With a jump, he returned to his spot behind Whitebeard, eagerly anticipating the spectacle that was about to unfold.

Izou stepped forward. The crew cheered. “Don’t let me hit you" he said, looking at me with a pitying expression. The rest of the crew laughed and made comments. They were placing bets on how long I’d last while Thatch and a few others handed out drinks and toasted.

My stomach flipped again, and a mix of fury and embarrassment consumed me. Let them laugh, let them bet… ¿did they have no scruples? That only made me angrier. Suddenly, everyone fell silent, their expressions changing as if their mood had shifted in an instant.

“I see…,” Whitebeard said. Just then, a bullet shot past my arm at the speed of light.

Dodging bullets… Maybe this will be easier than I thought. Izou fired furiously, and his bullets sped toward me at lightning speed. I moved quickly, trying to dodge each and every one of them as both the bullets and I zipped across the deck while the rest of the crew tried to avoid us. After long minutes, one of the bullets grazed my face. It wasn’t a direct hit, but close enough to scratch me, and blood began to flow. Both Izou and I paused for a second.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” Marco shouted.

“That’s enough. Haruta, you’re up,” Whitebeard added, and with that, Haruta charged at me fiercely, sword in hand, seemingly ready to cut me in half. Instinctively, I raised both arms to shield my body. My blackened arms prevented the sword from cutting me, but the impact sent me flying to the edge of the ship.

And so, one by one, I dodged and avoided each of the commanders who faced me, trying to show as little as possible of what I knew while still protecting myself. The truth was that none of them managed to seriously hurt me; Whitebeard stopped them after a few minutes of fighting, before that could happen. Maybe he didn’t want to kill me—just to see what I could do. Besides, defeating them all might have been impossible, given their immense strength.

“My turn,” Ace proclaimed before Whitebeard could even utter a word.

Ace jumped to the front. “Hey, peeping tom, don’t worry; I’ll make it easy for you. Besides, hitting pretty girls isn’t my style,” he said, winking. And with a leap into the air, his fist ignited in flames.

¿Who did he think he was? He made me so so furious…

Only Ace was left, and thank goodness, because the hits and wounds inflicted by the other commanders were starting to take their toll on me. A part of me wanted to punch Ace, to give him back all the embarrassment he had made me go through, and wipe that stupid smile off his face. To show him it was better not to mess with me.

But on the other hand, ¿Was hitting a commander a good idea? ¿What if it made Whitebeard angry...¿Would he kick you off his ship? ¿Abandon me to my own fate?

The urge to hit him was stronger than anything else, so I jumped up to his height and punched Ace in the face with Armament Haki and yes, I actually hit him because my fist sank into his cheek and sent him flying towards the bow. ¿Did just he let me hit him...?

Whitebeard burst out laughing, which made the rest of the crew follow suit, even Marco smiled. Everyone started commenting on how the new girl had punched Fire Fist Ace, taking it ironically and using it to tease Ace for the next few days, taking advantage of the situation to get under his skin.

Ace, not oblivious to all this, quickly got up and threw several fireballs in my direction, which I easily dodged. “We’re not done yet, peeper.” His cheek was now red from the punch, the only thing my eyes could focus on. It was clear that in a few days, he’d have a good bruise. While I was distracted looking at it, he launched another fireball that set the hem of my pants on fire, and my clothes began to burn. He threw another, but I didn’t dodge it either, and as it hit me square in the body, Ace looked on in horror as my body burned in flames.

The rest screamed in panic, while berating Ace for having gone too far. Everyone frantically searched for water to put out the flames on my body. Everyone except Whitebeard and Marco, who remained motionless at the horrible scene. I didn’t move either.

And suddenly, from the flames that gradually died down, a majestic albino lion, as white as snow, with feathered wings and ram horns, emerged from the fire. The screams of terror grew even louder, some muttering in fear, others filled with admiration.

“¿Is that her only form?” Whitebeard asked Marco.

“That’s the original. I haven’t seen it in 15 years. But I’m sure there are more; I don’t know much about the Chimera model yet.”

Shit. I used my devil´s fruit form... but other way i will be ashes by now.

While Marco and Whitebeard discussed my fate in the crew, my body returned to its human form, under the astonished gaze of the crew members.

“¡Little one! From today on, you’ll be part of the crew. You’ll help Thatch in the kitchen for now. Maybe we can find a place for you on the next mission.”

The crew began to cheer, tossing you into the air, laughing and dancing. “¡Let’s prepare a feast! Tonight, we’ll celebrate the new addition,” shouted one of the men. “¡LET’S GO!” the rest of the crew shouted in unison.

“You’ll get used to it girl, we always find a good excuse to celebrate” Vista laughed . “Yesterday, they celebrated Ace not falling asleep while eating.” Everyone burst into laughter.

“¿Are you okay?” Marco wrapped his arms around me. “Alright, guys, you heard it, this is my dear little sister. If anyone dares to bother her, she has my permission to kick your fat asses. And Ace… you… stay away, if you do anything to her, I’ll be the one kicking your ass.” Everyone started laughing and went back preparing the party or continuing with their tasks.

“Follow me.” Marco guided me through the ship towards some stairs that led down to another long, long corridor. “Here’s the infirmary, and next to it, Pops’ room. At the end are the commanders’ quarters. And there’s the library. I’ll talk to Pops about your medical skills and teach you everything I know. Maybe you can stay with me in the infirmary.”

“Marco… I… thank you.” I broke into tears. All the pressure, everything that had happened, and now a moment of hope. That lump in your throat that finally disappeared.

“Don’t cry, you’re here now, we’ll protect you. Come on, I’ll heal your wounds. Then I have to go see the other commanders.”

Marco healed your wounds and put a band-aid on your cheek to cover the wound caused by Izo’s bullet. “See you tonight.” And with a big smile, he disappeared.

I headed to the bathroom, which again… I didn’t know where it was, but it wouldn’t take long to find… And sure enough, just a few meters from the room I would be sharing with Marco from now on, there was the bathroom. I took off my clothes and got into one of the bathtubs, the water reaching my waist, and thank goodness, I still didn’t want to drown. After an hour in the water (Yes, I took my time, there wasn’t much else to do), I got out, grabbed a towel, and a voice woke me from my trance.

“You know… if you need help with your hair… I could help you, I also have makeup, and maybe we can find you some clothes.” Izou was leaning against one of the bathroom columns. I quickly tried to cover as much of my body as I could, while I blushed. “Look, it’s not that I have anything against your clothes, but the beggar look is no longer in fashion, besides, maybe this way you’ll forgive me for what happened to your face.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, I could have dodged it like you said, and I didn’t,” I replied with a smile.

For the first time since I know him, he smile.

“Let’s do something with that hair.”,

Izou cut my hair in layers, the best he could, with a big fringe on the sides, and with great skill, he dried and styled it. “Now we’d better go find you some clothes… Maybe Pops’ nurses have something. Wait here.”

While Izou left the bathroom, I couldn’t help but look at myself in the mirror, the hair… It was perfect, better than ever, it had never looked like this. I was starting to think that maybe I could be… ¿¡pretty?!

Izou abruptly appeared through the door again. “I think this will work for now… In two days, we’ll arrive at another island, you could buy some clothes there. I’m sure Marco will lend you some Berries.” He said as he handed me a crop top and a short skirt, maybe too short. “See you at the banquet.”

I dressed in the new borrowed clothes, which covered just enough to go trouhgt the night. "I should go up to the banquet". My stomach twisted with nerves. And it was normal, because except for Marco or maybe Izou in your brief interaction, the rest were complete strangers who either I had hit, or they had hit me.

I walked down the long corridor, ready to go out onto the deck. I could already hear the voices of people singing, dancing, even fighting in small groups, while the rest bet on who would take down whom. The noise made the nerves grow even more.

“Well, rookie, I almost didn’t recognize you.” A familiar voice interrupted my path. I turned around and… Ace. To be honest, he was pretty fit now that I take a good look at him. “Do you like what you see?” Again, my cheeks start burning, and I must have been staring longer than I thought because a cocky smile appeared on his lips.

“I… um… em” I tried to respond quickly, but neither my thoughts nor my words seemed to flow fast enough.

“I thought you were an intruder, but your silhouette is hard to forget,” he said with an even bigger smile. ¿What did he just say? ¿Had he noticed me? ¿Was he flirting with me, or was he just trying to make fun of me? “I saw you in the bathroom, ¿you know? Watching me, spying on me.”

“Whatever you say…” I replied, turning to continue my way to the party.

“I’m Ace, by the way. Commander of the Second Division,” he said, quickly catching up with me.

“Wow, impressive,” I said in the most sarcastic way I could.

“You know, rookie, you can sit next to me at the table, or Do you prefer to go hide under Marco’s skirts?”

---------------TO BE CONTINUED-----------------------

¿¿¿What you should do??? ¿Sit with ACE? Or maybe hide behind Marco??

NEXT CHAPTER

[angrythingstarlight]

I'm stuck at work for another ten minutes so I got time today anon.

So first lets address the fact that you sent this type of message on anon.

If you felt so strongly about your opinion, why not say it with your whole chest and do it off anon?

Was it playful? Was it non harmful? Ya sure about that?

Or was it mean and unnecessary and now you're mad about facing the consequences of your actions?

Second of all, I don't have to log off considering that I did what we all preach on here which is I protected my peace. Someone said something that I found offensive and rather than continue to let a negative presence remain in my space or start an argument, I blocked them. Just like I blocked you. I don't need to do anything else, I especially don't need to log off since I handled the problem in the best way possible.

Third, some of yall that like to deliver unsolicited criticism need to understand a few things:

If the writer/artists/creator did not ask for a critique, maybe take a day or two to think if you really, really need to criticism their work. In most cases, you don't. Especially if the content is free and is being done as a hobby.

There is a huge difference between an opinion, constructive criticism and just being rude and you need to know what that difference before you start delivering criticism which in a lot of cases is simply people being rude because they don't like something.

The only times I want to be corrected is:

•if I misspell something, leave out a word by accident (because I do write on my phone, usually at work so things happen)

•if something doesn't seem right (ex it seems like a paragraph is missing or in the wrong place because dumblr has been known to delete and/or move things).

I have people I trust that I get feedback from. I'm not some paid, professional writer. I'm a novice and I'm learning. I even accept constructive criticism from strangers when its delivered in a polite, unbiased manner.

I have my own writing style which means I will make style choices that may not be grammatically correct but they fit the flow of the story.

You may not like it but I do.

Finally, I'm pretty sure this all in regards to the dick size/sex comment and frankly I will continue to give all my fictional characters big dicks, have them love to eat out their partners and they will always be able to get a reader off (even if it takes a lot of time and patience) because I believe we all deserve amazing sex esp in our fantasy worlds.

The phrase I'll make it fit is popular for a reason😌

So sorry not sorry.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Taming Arrogance - Chapter 26

*Warning Adult Content*

"Don't test my patience."

My lips form the shape of an 'Oh' a the conversation is taking such a different turn than I expected it would, especially for being so early in the morning.

My temples throb, unsure of how to process every word falling from Blake's confident lips.

In a matter of minutes, Blake has admitted his feelings towards me run deeper than just physical, how much deeper?

I'm not sure, it's enough that he's willing to wait for me, though, fight for me.

Stomach the thought of Cade and I spending time together, alone and with more than just 'friendly' intentions.

Yes, there was also a small bit in there about a limited Richter scale of patience but that doesn't bother me in the slightest.

If anything, that bit just revs my engine further.

"Alright," I respond.

Blake raises a brow and puts his hands on his hips.

"Alright? That's your only response?"

My mouth flounders open and closed.

"I mean. How were you expecting me to respond?"

Blake rolls his eyes and walks over to the dresser to pick up his wallet.

He opens it and thumbs through his cash, the high numbered bills flicking past his fingertips.

I can only imagine how much he carries on him at one time, it'd probably make my head spin.

He sighs and closes his wallet again, stuffing it into his back pocket.

"It doesn't matter, I misspoke. That's a very typical 'Callum' response and I should have been prepared for it."

The sudden shift of his mood has my mental claws scrambling to find a way to fix it.

It's not like I'm unappreciative of everything he said, it's the exact opposite.

I want to tell him that it meant a lot to me and that my feelings for him are more than just physical too.

I grab for my flavored water beside the bed, guzzling down half the bottle to bide myself some time.

The words seem to be stuck at the base of my throat, refusing to surface.

Blake starts walking towards the door and I internally panic knowing I'm about to ruin another moment between us.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"We have a meeting with the construction crew in an hour, so I'm going to run and grab us some breakfast. Shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes, so please be ready by the time I get back."

His fingers curl around the door handle and I throw off the covers.

"Wait."

My feet collide with the floor, a little wobbly from the lingering alcoholic effects from last night.

Blake turns towards me, his face once again composed and impassive as ever.

"What?"

"I... I..."

My thoughts are muddled, all of them passing through cement before reaching the forefront of my mind, I swallow again.

There's no way I can say anything now but maybe, maybe if I can show him that I still want him, that'll be enough reassurance, for now, anyway.

"I didn't give you my order," I say. "For breakfast."

It's pathetic but it makes Blake pause, his fingers move away from the handle and he gives me an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. What's your order?"

His response is cold and irritated and my defenses can't help but rear their ugly heads.

I glare at him but choose to remain silent, I can't get the moment more off-course than it already is.

I shoulder past him and tug off my shirt and it lands in a heap on the bathroom floor, overlapping the towel that Blake used minutes ago to dry his hair.

With my back turned towards him, I take a deep breath, trying to fend off the nervous jitters.

My thumbs hook under the waistline of my basketball shorts, I've never been naked in front of another dude before, at least not one that wants to put his dick up my ass.

My pulse picks up speed as I pull down my shorts and boxers, leaving my backside completely bare and visible to Blake's eyes.

Every inch of my skin reddens, waiting for him to make a comment.

Is he even looking, if so, does he like what he sees?

The thought of him staring at me, thinking of me in a sexual way, has my mind spinning, my shaft hardens within seconds.

I take another step into the bathroom and Blake's voice comes out in a hoarse command.

"Callum. Turn around."

I look over my shoulder, Blake's expression is frenzied, the color of his cheeks match mine, his eyes pooling with desire.

Instead of turning around, I take another step into the room and smirk.

"No."

Blake's gaze flickers to mine, he knows I'm toying with him now and his eyes narrow with a sparring confidence.

He straightens his spine and walks towards me, his steps slow and sauntering.

"Callum," he says again. "I told you to turn around. Do it. Now."

I smirk and hop into the shower, keeping my front side hidden from him.

I poke my head out and hide behind the shower curtain.

"I think I'll just have a bagel," I say cheekily. "And a glass of OJ."

Blake glowers at me, then he pauses for only a split second, before he tears the curtain back.

I gasp, startled, the serious look in his eyes is one I've never seen before.

His gaze travels down my naked body, taking its time to appreciate every single inch of me.

The very minimal self-conscious side of me wants to cover my erection, it's embarrassing for him to see me like this.

The rest of me knows that this is the reassurance he needs to know that I want him, he deserves to know it, too.

So I stand still, hoping with every fiber in me that he'll give me another command.

"Don't turn the water on," Blake says quietly.

"I won't," I answer. "Sir."

His eyes flash to meet mine, my words of submission cause him to take a step closer and my legs start to tremble with anticipation.

Blake lowers and using the edge of the tub, eases down onto his knees.

Despite being taller than him now, the man radiates power as he speaks to me.

"I want to be the first man to suck you off," Blake admits.

"Put your hands behind your back and bring yourself to my lips."

"Yes, Sir," my voice shakes.

I skirt away from the wall of the shower and take the needed, small steps to close the distance between the tip of my dick and the edge of Blake's lips.

His warm breath traces across my shaft and I shudder.

No man has touched me before and I am just now realizing how badly I am aching for that to change.

"Am I the reason you're this hard?" Blake asks, his lips just a whisper away from giving me what I think will be the best pleasure of my life.

"Yes," I whisper. "Sir."

"Just me?" his voice is harsh and clipped but his eyes soften enough to let me know this isn't a dominant question.

It's a submissive one filled with fragile vulnerability.

It's a question asked with the hope of receiving reassurance and this time, the words seem to flow out effortlessly.

"Yes, Sir. Just you."

Blake nods and his confidence returns.

He raises his hands and runs them along my thighs and my pulse hammers against my veins, his fingers are soft but his touch is rough.

The combination has me panting and my dick twitches, again, I don't think I've ever been this hard in my life.

I start to ache, needing more from him, to be kissed by him, sucked by him.

As if sensing my thoughts, Blake leans forward and takes me into his mouth, I grunt with uncontrollable pleasure.

His hands move around to my ass, squeezing each cheek to the point that it becomes painful but every ounce of pain is met with indescribable pleasure as his tongue slides along my dick, his lips closing around me with possessive need.

I moan and grind my hips further and further into Blake's mouth, he doesn't pull away once.

He takes me deeper, wanting every inch I'm willing to give and then he looks up at me and our eyes collide.

The sudden shift into emotional intimacy is beyond sexy.

I try to pull away from him, warning him with garbled speech of what's about to happen but Blake holds his ground.

He quickens his pace, knowing exactly what he's doing, his fingers dig into me, and that's the last straw.

I cry out his name and finish directly into his eager mouth, reaching a state of pleasure I never knew possible.

Blake laps up every last drop, leaving me pleasured and breathless with one final suck from his irresistible lips.

When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are still diluted with lust.

I don't know what to feel, what to think, the only thought registering in my mind is that what just happened did nothing to quench my sexual need for Blake.

If anything, it just fueled it further, deeper and with trembling limbs, I drop down to my knees next and look up at him with pleading eyes.

Blake licks his lips and smirks.

"What about your bagel and OJ?" he asks with a rugged smugness to his voice. I manage to smirk back at him.

"I'm thirsty for something different now, Sir."

[xartus]

Continuing my discourse with myself about the intersection between social media, porn, the queer community, and our souls being rotted away by late stage capitalism

I'd like to talk about phallocentrism in queer spaces. And moreso than that, the fetishization of genitalia in general when it comes to sex

Because as much as we like to call ourselves progressive and breaking binaries, we aren't. We're creating new, parallel binaries to the cishet ones. We can wax poetic about queer love this queer love that- but we have the exact same vapid, hedonistic, souless hookup culture problem that everyone else does. If not MORE SO because of the unique struggles the queer community faces

I cannot escape dick no matter what I do. Do I like it? Sure, if it's attached to someone I like. If they have one and don't use it, I'm unbothered. It isn't the thing that grounds me to reality, sexually. But that organ is the all-consuming focus for a lot of the queer community. I know because people are constantly questioning my gender transition because I don't use a strap on. "Why did you transition if you don't-" why are you so nosy?

According to current gender math, if you're a woman with one, and you use it, you're a woman. If you're a man and you don't go out of your way to purchase a prosthetic one and learn how to use it, your manhood is in question. Someone with a degree in sociology will need to elaborate on that for me, because I only have a fuzzy concept of a concept of why that is. I've even had people call me a selfish love for not using one: "What if your partner NEEDS-" what about my boundaries and needs during sex? Do those not matter because I'm the man, because they view me as the "top/dom" by default, because I'm trans, redheaded, any abritary category?

I once read (in a very good book about how porn is really bad for all of us) that "a man is seen as a life support system for the penis". It would seem this is also true for the queer community. So many people fuck because there's a penis, real or fake, attached to someone. That person is a dick delivery service and not a person. Just like someone can be an orfice delivery service and not a person. We're using each other's bodies to masturbate based on the fetishization of genitals. We are not special or more enlightened or pure because we're queer

I boil this down to a couple factors: the fact that porn and over sexualization is running rampant in queer spaces without any critical thought. The fact that we're more likely to be isolated from community and thus victims to the hell that is social media. The fact that we view ourselves in a weird superior light to cishet people and refuse to critically examine our own community and it's problems and make things better for ourselves

If we think ourselves better, we should fucking be better. Instead, we're just a different flavor of echo chamber. We still suffer from gender binaries, the patriarchy, brainrot from *gestures to the digital hell surrounding us*, and internal divisions that exclude fellow queer people who don't follow the status quo

This is an example that's personal to me, since I've experienced discrimination in dating and unwanted, hurtful comments from lots of people about the subject. But this is not the only example of our inability as a community to talk about our problems in a constructive way. Ask other LGBT folks, get different answers in the same theme