#how dare you be in a space that you're allowed to be in

[rinsnumber1fan]

When they accidently hit you...

Includes: rin itoshi, sae itoshi, isagi yoichi, Michael kaiser

Itoshi Rin:

He was just looking for his book that he left on the top shelf, just to make sure that you don't steal it and hide it to annoy him.

You stood right by his side where he had his arm stretched all the way up to the top shelf on his room to find the book. "Rin, I feel like eating some Chinese food today-" you said, fidgeting as you stood by his side.

He gave you a side long glance and grabbed the book, and when he tried to put his arms back to his side, his elbow hit your face.

His eyes widened immidiently and he panicked, "a-are you okay?!" He said, looking down at you who covered your face and winced in pain.

Rin quickly looked to his left and right as if something were to appear and he quickly stepped back, "I'll go get you some-" you grab his hand, "that was... amazing."

Rin blinked..

"What?" He asked as if hoping you didn't mean what you said.

You pulled your hand away from your nose which felt broken because of his elbow, "that was... amazing, do it again." You said with a slight head tilt.

"You.. want me to- to.. hit you..?" He asked as if in confusion.

"Yeah but like really mean it!"

"Nope, no. I'm not doing this-"

He tried to run away and you captured him. Hugging him from behind, "I always knew getting hit by you would be amazing-" his cheeks turn red and he almost dies.

Itoshi sae:

Sae was at a party and he was allowed to bring one person and he bought you the only one he could tolerate.

Sae stood in the main area filled with glitter and RGB lights trying not to interact but these girls were making it pretty difficult for him..

You stood by his side trying your best to be professional while a bunch of girls throw themselves at him bacically.

The blonde twirls her hair, "so you're good at working with balls huh? Me too... kinda.." she tilts her head. It didn't take a genius to recognize what she was trying to say. You kept your mouth zipped but then a few other girls join in.

"Did you know im the shortest girl in this party?"

"I heard you like athletic women! Well I can play with balls too."

Your eye visibly twitched. Sae didn't really say anything just stared off in space with an irritated frown on his face.

But when he feels one of the girls resting her head on his shoulder,

He feels disgusting.

He puts a hand on that woman's head and pushes her off of him harshly.

"Don't you ever fucking dare to-" he immidiently regrets it, noticing the person he just pushed was you.

You looked up at him and he paused and froze for a moment his eyes remained wide, "im sorry- i- didnt-" you licked your bottom lip. "Uh no.. sorry I shouldve.. considered you were already overwhelmed by the-" he grabs your face gently and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"If I ever do that ever again, just kill me, okay?" Sae says, looking at you dead in the eye but more emotion than he's ever shown before.

He's just that scared of hurting someone he loves.

Michael Kaiser:

"Okay and how many times do I have to explain it for your dumb little brain to understand that-" "HEY IM NOT DUMB!" You shouted as kaiser sighed, glancing at all the notebooks and books scattered over your desk.

"You want tutoring, and I'm giving you tutoring. so, stop being lazy and hurry up and solve it." He pressed the pen against the paper roughly.

You pouted and reluctantly grab the pen from his hands, starting to solve the whole problem. "I've been at it for five hours-" "just five hours? I practice soccer for 15 hours every day."

You blinked at the man.

"There's no way you actually-"

"Shut it-"

You obliged and continued.

You got the same problem wrong after like three tries and once again now.

Kaisers brow twitched, "how many times do I have to-" he accidently held your arm a bit too tightly, losing control of his anger.

You winced in pain.

He paused for a moment and quickly let go, he didn't apologize though. Not untill you pouted and your voice was wobbling and your eyes had tears in them. Kaiser sighed in annoyance, or feigning annoyance "are you kidding.. me..?" He glanced at you and for a moment felt a pang in his heart.

"You hurt me!" You announced, although it didn't hurt at all you just wanted to make a show because you loved making kaiser feel bad.

"I didn't even do it that hard!! Okay.. fine.. I'm sorry.." He murmured, grabbing your hand in his and planting a kiss over your knuckles. "Pretty?" He tilts his head and you pouted, only to kiss his cheek back

And then give him the best head ever later.

Isagi yoichi:

Isagi was alone, or so he thought. Watching a movie late at night, a horror one thinking he needed a change, and then you sneaked up behind him. You placed a hand on his shoulders and shouted "BOO!"

The moment his hand collided with your face you knew it was over.

He slapped rhe shit out of you and threw you down to the floor.

Leaving a red print on your cheek.

"Oh my God! You scared the life out of me!! A-are you okay?!" Isagi yelled as he glanced at you on the floor.

You totally deserved it but isagi wasn't the type to admit that.

You lift yout head slowly and smile at him with blood running down your nose. "OH MY GOD!! IM TAKING YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!!!" He grabs you and runs.

"I-isagi wait!! Its no- I'm fine!!"

And you had to get nose surgery after that.

Happy ending

PKEASE LEAVE A COMMENT IM ASCENSINF PLS LEAVE A OCMMENT PLSPLSPLSPLS

[shimmershifts]

an open letter to those who have not yet shifted.

i don't know how many of you will see this, let alone how many will read it entirely. this letter is for those who have been trying to shift for two years, five years, more. those who cannot give up, and those who will not give up, and maybe even those who already have. to preface, this letter will not rehash everything you already know. you've scrolled every forum, you've seen every method, you've read every tip. you've trialed, and errored, and persevered... but you're still here. law of assumption, manifestation, belief, intention. but you're still here. you've been told all about shifting... right? you already know what shifting is... right? you should already know how to shift... right? but you're still here.

this letter is not intended to debase or invalidate those who do already believe in those things and who are satisfied with that. this is for those who have been trying that way for 2 years, 5 years, and more, and still haven't shifted. this is for those who might want an alternative perspective.

what you've been told

in my personal opinion, the online shifting community as it currently stands is very... rigid. narrow. there are a few dominant views, and then the many who drown out any possible dissent or disagreement. i do understand why this happens. reality shifting is already a marginal belief, hounded by anti-shifters and disbelieved and debunked on all sides, so it makes sense that people feel the instinct to close ranks at any sign of an outsider. unfortunately, this has led to a community that raises its hackles at even other reality shifters who simply don't believe the exact same way that you do. law of assumption. manifestation. intent. (and dare i say it, the multiverse.)

i don't believe in any of that, in the context of shifting.

now, wait! don't go yet, stay with me. it's okay if you do. i'm not intending to change the minds of those who already believe in these things. i'm not going to go at anyone and say "i'm right, you're wrong, and you must change your mind to agree with me!" that would be silly, and counterproductive. let's lower our guards, and extend an olive branch, please. if you feel these things serve your journey, then carry on. you're allowed to disagree with me, i won't be upset. you're allowed to think i'm wrong, if you want. literally no worries at all.

but i am a little tired frankly of certain ideas being treated as the only options, and often in a rude or hostile manner. if you are someone who has spent five years trying to shift, and you see yet another post that boils down to "all you have to do is want it hard enough" does that not hurt your soul? the following sections of this post are for those who these ideas have not been working for. for those who have not yet shifted. it's been two years. five years. more. and you're still here. are you open to another possibility?

what is reality shifting?

i've told you what i don't believe, but what about what i do? i'll try to keep this as concise as possible for the sake of brevity and comprehension, knowing i could potentially clarify in future posts. but please continue with the understanding that im a chronic overexplainer, and my curse is the fact that the extra words don't always actually increase understanding. bear with me.

reality shifting: broadly speaking, this refers to shifting your linear experience of reality from one, to another. this has been known by many other names in the past, across continents and cultures, even in pre-agriculture societies. i'd include ideas like persistent realms, quantum jumping, focus 21, etc. language is subjective, and people may describe or understand the same experience in different ways.

i believe reality shifting is a haphazard side effect of our limited ability to perceive and comprehend reality. let me explain. space, as we understand it, is three dimensional. but reality isn't. it's our bodies and minds limiting our perception and understanding that makes all of reality seem that way to us at surface level.

1D: let's consider a hypothetical one dimensional existence. everything would a straight line, and the only way to perceive anything else would be as a single point directly in front or directly behind you. forwards and backward. the 2D and 3D are beyond your limited ability to physically sense or feel, let alone to comprehend. Forget about the 4D (time). due to your lack of comprehension, you cannot move at will in two dimensional planes, let alone three dimensional space or even time. you are static, a single point.

2D: let's consider a hypothetical two dimensional existence. it would be a flat, infinite planar expanse. you might be a square, or a circle. you can move freely in two dimensional directions (forward, backwards, side to side), but not in the 3D. No up, no down. If you tried to perceive a three dimensional object, you would only be able to comprehend it as linear, a line on the horizon where it intersects your 2 dimensional plane. you would perceive the 3D as moving around or within you on its own, without the ability to direct it. the 4D, or time, if you could perceive it, would be static, a singular point at a time.

3D: what about our three dimensional existence? congratulations, you now are a form, such as a sphere, or a cube. you can move freely in a voluminous, infinite three dimensional space. Forward, backwards, side to side, up, and down. if you *try* to perceive the fourth dimension (time), you can only comprehend it as linear, a line where it intersects your 3 dimensional space. You perceive it as moving around or within you on its own, without the ability to direct it yourself. any dimensions higher than that, if you could perceive it, would be static, a singular point at a time.

quick 4D sidebar: clearing this one up now because this will confuse some of you who are involved in other communities. in many law of assumption and manifestation communities, "4D" has been used to refer to your imagination, inner world, a bridge to "higher vibrational states", etc. i don't use it that way. i use it in the sense of the mathematical concept, or linking three-dimensional space with time. 4D=time.

4D and 5D: so, time is the fourth dimension. that means it is four dimensional, yet due to our limitations as 3D creatures, we can only perceive it as linear. we perceive it as moving around us, without our direction, forwards, (or backwards in some cultures). what about the 5th dimension? the static one? the one we can only perceive one point of at a time? let's call this 5th dimension... reality. due to our limited perception, it may not seem like it, but time and reality are just like space in that all of it exists at once. if you were a 5th dimensional creature, you wouldn't see a bunch of different realities, you'd just see one the way we just see one 3D universe around us right now.

tip: think of it this way, if a three dimensional creature moving through time is only able to perceive it linearly, it may think that each point of time exists separately, passing by in chronological order. this would be like a character in a book, the character experiences each page one at a time as we turn the page. but we know that actually, the entire book exists all at the same time, and already did exist before we picked it up and started reading it, and continues to exist even when we set it down. the same is true of time, and reality. even if we perceive it as linear, or a point, all of it actually exists simultaneously, like space.

still, we can only perceive one point of reality at a time. i believe when we reality shift, we are by some freak of nature (or nurture) finding a way to trigger a "movement" in this "5th dimension," and therefor shifting our linear experience of time and our singular perceptual experience of one reality to another. ("movement" is a bit of an abstraction here, as movement generally refers to 3D space. you're not actually moving anywhere, you're already there, you just... can't see it at the same time as this.)

ok, so how the heavens do i shift?

if you read through all of the above, i assume that's what you're asking by now. "get to the point shimmer! how do i shift?" if you don't need intention, belief, assumption, manifestation, three gallons of water, crystals, or anything else then what do you need to shift?

if we boil shifting down to its absolute core, all you need to do in order to shift is to shift. (put down the pitch forks, and the flaming feathers and tar. i'll elaborate.)

shifting involves finding a way for us 3 dimensional creatures to trigger a shift in a dimensional direction that we do not have the capacity to perceive. so what i mean by "all you have to do to shift, is to shift" is that there is no physical movement, or secret password we can whisper that makes us shift, not inherently. it's sort of like being told to find your invisible and non corporeal primordial tail, and then swish it in a direction that doesn't spatially exist. find your "move in the 5D button", and then press it. except, there is no button.

so how do we "move" from one point of reality to the other? well, the first clue to this is in noticing what part of us is actually doing the "moving".

you don't make it happen with your three dimensional form. there is no body part or mass or motor function in your 3D body that triggers a shift. there's nothing that allows a three dimensional form to move in five dimensional directions... you just can't. your body stays here. that's good news actually, in my opinion. there is no need to force yourself into strange bodily positions, or chug water, or whatever else. your 3D body is irrelevant, because it's not going anywhere. you don't have to do anything with your body to shift. some people can shift awake, asleep, in the shower, walking around, etc.

you also don't necessarily do it with the fourth dimension, time. there is no specific amount of time that you'll shift after. it might seem you've spent a lot of time trying to shift, but the actual shift itself is instantaneous. some people shift their first try, and some of you might be on your second decade of attempts. again, the time factor being irrelevant is good news because this means it doesn't have to take time.

i also don't think we do it with just intent or belief. the intention word gets used so much it basically means nothing, but the general idea is that intent is the driving force that manifests your desired outcome. in the context of shifting, people use it like "set your intention to shift, and you will" or "intent makes you shift." or the dreaded "you just have to believe harder." personally, i don't think that's true. i don't think intention makes you shift. if it did, you all would have shifted by now, right? i think looking anyone who's been trying to shift for 4 years dead in the eye and telling them they just haven't intended to shift yet is honestly a bit cruel and unusual. some people who intend to shift will shift, but in my opinion, its a case of correlation, and not causation. there are also people who shift without intending to, or who intend to shift but don't.

it's also not really our thoughts that shift. or our mind as a concept, or our entire self. we know this because you don't turn into a comatose vegetable when you shift to a different reality. your thoughts, mind, and self here are unaffected by your awareness shifting away from it. if you successfully "permashifted" to hogwarts tonight, your self here would still wake up in the morning and go to work.

so what does shift? only our linear experience of our own awareness. so in order to reality shift, we just need to find a way to trigger our awareness to shift from one point of reality to another in a non linear fashion, and then integrate that into our linear experience. aha! you think. great! now how do i do that...? unfortunately, this is not an exact science (yet.) once you begin shifting regularly, i think it gets "easier" in some regards because you get a sense for how your awareness "feels" and what works for you. for those who haven't shifted, i can't say "take three deep breaths and recite the secret words, and then you'll shift." there is nothing specific you can physically do that will for certain make you shift. there's no secret passwords.

there is no key to shifting. the good news is, this means there is also no lock.

what we can do is get ourselves primed, into a state that increases the chances our awareness is triggered to shift. ie, find the "move in the 5D" button, (you know, the one that doesn't exist) and learn how to press it. and because it is our awareness that shifts, my "methods" have to do with priming your awareness for shifting. you don't need to believe, which is a good thing because it means doubts won't hold you back. you don't necessarily need to intend, which is a good thing because it means there are no secret blockages in your way. no "subconscious", no "reprogramming", no "delusion is the solution." you don't need any of that. you also don't have to do anything specific with your body or space unless you feel like it and want to. you don't need a script, but you can make one if you want. it's whatever, it's irrelevant darling, it's non-consequential.

these three methods below basically encompass all shifting methods out there. i might expand on techniques for these methods later, but for now i'll go over the basics.

method one: pure awareness

it basically boils down to two steps. get into a state of pure awareness, and then shift.

the first step for this method is actually a simple one, sort of, but i think it's unkind to call it easy. it can be easy, if you just happen to have a perfect technique that works for you on your first try. if so, congrats! if not, don't despair. it comes more naturally to some than others, at first. you can probably build the skills and try different techniques necessary for you to get there.

but what is pure awareness? it's currently very often being called "the void state", but i'm not using that term for a few reasons. one, i think using the term "the void state" or calling it "the void" is making people think it's some sort of place that they're trying to go. it's not. it's not a physical place at all, and that's kind of the point. most of the time, your awareness is perceiving reality through the confines concept of 3D reality, because that's the data input it's receiving from your brain and body. that grounds you in this reality, and allows you to go about your day to day life. your goal with the pure awareness method is to focus on just your awareness, absent of all 3D distraction data and input. that way, your awareness is primed to be triggered to shift its focus to the 3D perception of a different point of reality when you come out of that state.

i might make a post about techniques for getting into the state of pure awareness, but this post is already long enough.

method two: destabilization of awareness

this method gets over complicated, but it basically boils down to two steps. destabilize your awareness, and then shift.

honestly, most shifting methods i see online are in some way doing this. lucid dreams, the hypnogogic state, SATS, self-hypnosis, "symptoms", and also all those iterations of the "raven method" the "staircase method" the "alice in wonderland method" etc are all basically ways to destabilize your awareness from the linear perception it is so used to in this point of reality, offering the opportunity of triggering a shift to a different one. they're all sort of either distracting or subverting your focus on the 3D here in this point of reality.

basically, you'll be trying to discombobulate yourself to the point your awareness is not focused on 3D reality, and trigger a shift.

method three: absence of awareness

sleep method gang, rise up. i'm serious. this method involves reducing your awareness to zero, or as close to it as possible, another potentially prime state to trigger a shift. (and by sleep method, i don't mean lucid dreamers or SATS, i mean simply going to sleep here, having a period of complete unawareness, like totally dreamless sleep, and then waking up in your DR.)

this absence of awareness during sleep is (in my experience) the most common cause of accidental or unintentional shifts, but you might be one of those who can trigger a shift to desired realities with this too.

sleeping is not the only way to get to the state of the lack of awareness. i'd say total distraction methods also count for this. you're not asleep, your body is awake, but you're so "zoned out" (or alternatively in a meditative state such that) you're absolutely not aware of the 3D experience of this point of reality anymore.

this is completely different from the state of pure awareness by the way, because in the state of pure awareness you are aware. like, in pure awareness you have a full train of thought and total control. the absence of awareness is the opposite. it feels sort of like a "blip" where reality time and space passed you by and you were not aware of it.

[xoxojisu]

FUCK, I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU.

synopsis: katsuki doesn't know how to fix. he doesn't know how to heal, or how to love. but for you, he wants to try.

notes: part one here!

he doesn’t see you the next day.

not in class. not at lunch. not even in the places you always pop up, like a constant thread woven through his life. it’s the first time in he-doesn't-even-know-how-long that you’re not just.. there.

sitting on his bed. laying on his chest. places he never asked for you to be, but liked it more than he was willing to admit. places he'd gotten really used to you just being there.

where were you? where did you go?

oh, that's right.

he pushed you away.

and boy, he feels it.

feels the empty. feels the loss.

he doesn’t eat much. doesn’t talk to anyone, which is sort of scarier than him snapping at everyone. his hands shake all day with this restless, helpless sort of guilt.

because he remembers.

remembers your smile, how it faltered.

remembers your laugh, hollow and too small.

remembers how you hugged yourself as you walked away.

remembers how heartbroken you looked, and how it looked like you were trying to shield yourself from him as you left.

and he hates himself for it.

by the time the sun dips low and the sky starts to turn orange, he’s pacing outside your dorm room, hands in his pockets, head down.

he hesitates.

not because he doesn’t want to see you, but because he’s terrified you won’t want to see him.

but he knocks anyway.

soft. three times.

no answer.

he knocks again.

“it’s me,” he says, voice low. “can you.. can we talk?”

still nothing.

then, after a long pause:

the door clicks open just a crack.

you don’t meet his eyes. don’t say anything.

just stand there in the sliver of space you’ve allowed him, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, expression unreadable.

he feels like shit all over again.

“can i come in?” he asks, like he’s not sure he deserves it.

you hesitate, then wordlessly step back and let him in.

his heart clenches. he takes slow, careful steps inside like he’s afraid of breaking more than he already has.

the silence sits thick between you.

he doesn't know what to say or what to do. katsuki's destroyed things all his life. pots and vases, people's feelings, people's dreams. he's never had to try to fix them before.

but now he does. because you're precious. because losing this, you, would be way too much to bear.

his head spins with different thoughts. he should've rehearsed what he was gonna say before he came.

he's scared. really, truly, scared. it's a rare feeling for him, and he hates it. hates how much he's shaking. hates how nauseous he feels. hates that he even put himself in this position.

“i didn’t mean it,” he blurts, voice hoarse. “any of it. not a single fuckin’ word.”

you sit on the edge of your bed, arms crossed tight around you. you don't say anything. it scares him.

he nods. “i know i was a huge dick, and i’m.. fuck, i’m sorry.”

he drops into a crouch in front of you, gaze upturned, hands twitching like he wants to reach for yours but doesn’t dare quite yet.

“i got scared,” he says. “you’re so.. you. you're always so.. bright. and i’m just.. i'm me. i didn’t know how to deal with how much i.. fuckin’ need you.”

your eyes flicker.

“so i panicked. pushed you away. said the worst thing i could think of, because maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if i did it like this. or maybe i just couldn't handle my own fuckin' feelings. maybe i don't know how to be.. loved, or whatever. i don't really know.”

you finally speak, voice wobbling. “it hurt.”

his heart breaks.

“i know,” he says, hand reaching up slowly and hesitantly to cup your face. you let him. “i know. and i’d take it back if i could. i’d never say anything like that again. not to you. not ever.”

you’re quiet for a long moment.

"i don't want you to have to pretend," you mutter. "if it was really how you felt, i wanna respect your wishes."

"it's not," he says immediately. no hesitation. "fuck, i need you. don't.. fuck, don't go anywhere."

you still look doubtful. there's clearly something else on your mind. he can read you like a book. he nudges you gently, silently urging you to speak your mind.

you look away.

“do you even like me?”

he pauses. then laughs. short, pained. not at you, but at himself.

“fuck, i’m in love with you.”

you blink, eyes wide.

he grips your hand. “and it scares the hell outta me, but that’s not your fault. it’s mine. and if you give me another chance, i’ll spend every damn day makin’ sure you know how much you mean to me.”

silence again. his heart is racing. he's never been this scared before.

then, quietly:

“…okay.”

his head snaps up.

you smile at him. still cracked, still cautious, but at least it's there.

he doesn't care. you smiled at him. he lets a smile slip, too. because yes, you smiled at him.

“okay,” you say again, softer this time.

he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.

and when you reach for him, when you bury your face in his chest and let him hold you like he never wants to let go, he finally feels like he can breathe again.

“i love you too, you asshole,” you mumble against his hoodie. "by the way."

he squeezes you tighter. presses a kiss into your hair, like a promise.

“i know. ’m gonna earn that back. gonna make it up to you. i swear.”

and this time, he means every word.

masterlist likes, rbs, + comments appreciated!

[vividly-vermillion]

✴︎ WATCH YOUR HONEY DRIP, CAN'T KEEP AWAY

જ⁀➴ You confessed to your boyfriend that you never were able to squirt before, curious to how it would feel. Of course Tsukki is the right one to help you with those long and slender fingers as they hit your sweet spot with every curl.

ﾉ including: Tsukishima

ﾉ cw: fem!reader, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, slight degradation, pet names, Tsukki being a little shit

ﾉ wordcount: 1.0k

ﾉ info: Let me know what you thought in the comments & reblogs please | requests are open!

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

It was almost embarrassing to talk with your boyfriend about something your friends have been obsessed with lately, not even daring to admit to them that you've tried it before but it just wouldn't happen. Of course, dear Tsukki enjoyed watching you squirm and suffer in front of him, trying to let him know what exactly you wanted.

“So… You want me to help you take a piss?” He asked amused, causing you to burn up with the way he put it, a long sigh escaping your lips

“It's not like…peeing you Idiot…but yes,” you stammered as your eyes drifted down to your lap out of embarrassment.

All you could hear was a soft snicker that came from the blonde, followed by rustling of the sheets as he moved around. When you dared to look up again he sat against the headboard, legs slightly spread and mischief written across his face

“Are you gonna sit there forever or will you let me play with you?” He asked in a teasing way, patting the empty space in front of him.

You looked at him with wide eyes, not expecting him to be so willing to do it right away but you simply nodded before crawling over to him.

Once you were nestled between his thighs your lips crashed into his in a passionate kiss while your hands were busy taking your shorts off.

“Everything ” he hummed as he tugged on the hem of your shirt, wanting to have you completely bare against him.

When you finally settled between his legs, your back resting against his chest, he hooked your legs over his own to keep them spread wide, a small “tsk” escaping his lips when you tried closing them at first. His soft lips came to nibble at your neck, slender fingers snaking towards your chest to knead your boobs.

Soft mewls escaped your lips when he rolled your hardened buds between his fingers and it made him chuckle.

“You're so needy. Pathetic” he teased, pressing his hardened length against your back to let you know that he's just as needy but his goal was clear, to get you to make a mess all over his hand and bed.

You were so lost in the pleasure his hands provided to your nipples that you barely noticed how one of his hands slid further down between your legs. A small slap to your glistening cunt pulled you back to reality with a yelp

“Mhh… better pay attention,” he mused and let a finger slide between your slick folds.

As he slowly circled your clit, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, fully relaxing into him to allow the pleasure to take over your body. With skilled fingers he quickly built up this all to familiar heat in your lower abdomen.

Tsukishima chuckled deeply when he took his hand away right before the knot was ready to burst, to leave you as a whining mess. The cruel treatment made you want to whine and close your legs to create at least some sort of friction, but closing your legs was impossible with the way his own held yours open. “Patience, my sweet,” he whispered, soft lips connecting to your neck once again as his fingers came up to your mouth.

“Open up,” he ordered and you knew better than to deny him so you allowed him to push his fingers into your awaiting mouth, cleaning up his long fingers as you sucked gently on them before swirling your tongue around them.

With a pop he released them from your mouth and bit down on a sensitive spot on your neck before speaking again

“Such a good girl for me. Enjoying to taste yourself, hm?” That cocky bastard, you thought to yourself, but your mind quickly went blank the second you felt the tip of his finger circle your dripping core, eagerly awaiting him.

The way his fingers curled upwards against the spongy spot inside of you had you seeing stars, the squelching sound almost drowned out your soft moans and whimpers.

Right before you had the chance to get your sweet release he did it again - removing his fingers to leave you clenching around nothing, chasing an orgasm that wouldn't come.

“Tsukki please… Need to cum,” You whined desperate, hating it when he edged you, but he turned your head slightly to the side to kiss your temple.

“You're too impatient, you little brat. You wanted to make a mess, right?” He questioned as if he knew exactly what he was doing, smirking when he saw you nod.

“Then take it like a big girl,” he hummed before pushing his fingers back inside of you to work you up a few more times.

When you suddenly started to stiffen up he hummed softly into your ear, knowing exactly that you feel the pressure of what's about to follow

“Don’t think so much, just let your body take control.” His voice gently reassured you when he brought his free hand up to play some more with your nipples, while his fingers harshly massaged your sweet spot.

As if his words were all you needed, you came with a silent scream, clear liquid squirting out of your cunt and wetting the sheets as your eyes rolled back in your head. The sensation was unlike anything you’ve felt before. Tsukishima's fingers kept rubbing your clit in fast circles to make this orgasm last even longer. However, the second you calmed down, he plunged his fingers back inside once again.

“Look at the mess you made, you naughty girl. Wet the whole bed,” he groaned and his pants felt painfully tight against him now, but he wanted you to do it again - needed you to.

You were whining his name so sinfully when your head rolled off his shoulder to watch his fingers disappear into your needy cunt as another orgasm hit you. Another wave of clear liquid sprayed out of you as Tsukki moaned in your ear from how tight you were squeezing his fingers.

Once you caught your breath, he rubbed slow, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves to help you ride the high out and chuckled softly at how you squirmed around from the overstimulation.

“You better not tap out now baby. Gonna do it again around my dick, yeah?” His words resembled an order, more than a question and all you could do was nod, addicted to this new found pleasure.

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 25th. tom — anal sex / sexual punishment.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: basically how i see a tom riddle punishment playing out. biblical tom of sorts. so self assured its impossible to piss him off so you go to lengths some may consider extreme but…eh. he knows you’re his.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, UNI hogwarts (obvs but just a reminder) reader and tom have an…interesting dynamic, toxic but also not toxic because it works for them, anal sex (obvs), sexual punishment, brief fingering, copious amounts of dirty talk, i once again utilize my favourite place in the school (the library).

"Tom—"

With a hand raised, he cuts you off. "Don't."

You blink. Swallow. Blink again. He's mad—oh, yes, he's mad—more than you've ever seen him and you once watched Abraxas Malfoy knock over his potion during a heavily-weighted exam.

That, in currency to this, is pennies.

You breathe in, try again. "Look, I can explain—"

He doesn't let you. Within a second his wand is out and with a flick of his wrist the room shifts to static—the glimmer from the silencing charm he just cast settles over your corner of the library, and you feel your fingers go numb—

"Why'd you stop?" He cocks his head, brow raised. His jaw is tight, the tension there burning into the space between you. His fingers flex. You can feel how much he's holding back. "If there's an explanation, by all means. I'd love to hear it."

Right—yeah, an explanation. That should help. Certainly, the man staring at you like he has bullets for eyes and knives for fingers will understand—he'll be completely calm once you explain to him you kissed someone else in retribution—because you wanted to get back at him.

"Well, I—" you push up from the desk, desperate to feel bigger, to level with him somehow. Tom thrives in this—having the upper hand, knowing all he has to do is stare at you, all stillness and quiet fury. He knows you hate it, that you'll spiral under it until you break and present him your neck on a silver platter. Until you hand him the knife and beg him to cut. "We had that argument, and I thought—I thought, maybe—you didn't—"

He moves closer. The air thickens. You're too focused on the fire in his eyes to acknowledge the sound of his wand clattering onto the desk—

"You thought?" His voice is something almost bored, like this is a trivial exercise for him—you can barely hear him over the roar of your pulse in your throat.

"—that you didn't want me anymore!"

You force the words out in a desperate rush, and the silence that follows feels like a goddamn canyon—you're just staring at each other, scowling in the wake of what you just said because you both know how utterly foolish it sounds. The only person Tom Riddle has and will ever allow himself to be vulnerable in front of—and you thought he'd leave after a silly argument.

No. You never thought that for a second.

And so, you try to save yourself. "Tom—I-I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, I know I fucked up—but, it's not just me—I mean, you could have communicated better—"

He takes another step toward you, nodding along as if he's humoring you. "Right."

You step back—you don't mean to but the depleted space between you feels dangerous and your body reacts before you can stop it.

"Maybe—maybe we can learn from this? Right? A lesson for—for us both?" You keep talking. You don't know why, but you do. "And, maybe you could, uh, learn to talk about your feelings better?"

You wince as his eyebrows shoot up, mocking you without saying a word. Tom Riddle, talking about his fucking feelings? Right.

"I mean—you're just—" you hesitate because you know you're digging your own grave, yet he's still staring, daring you to finish. "—you're just so hard to read, you know?"

Another bored nod, another step closer. "Of course."

You swallow, stumbling back—of course Tom knows he's hard to read, that's the point. Every word out of your mouth is a wasted effort, a desperate attempt to reason with someone who's beyond it. Your ass collides with the desk behind you, boxing you in—and suddenly, he's there, right in front of you, all of his typical Tom intensity pouring into the limited space between you.

His breath brushes against your cheek, close enough that his lips could meet yours. But you know they won't. He'd never make it that easy. You can't tell if it's fear or something more wicked that twists in your chest. Dread, excitement—God, maybe both—

"You tried to provoke me."

Your throat tightens around a swallow. He isn’t asking.

"Maybe."

He doesn't blink. "You tried to see if I'd care."

You open your mouth, only to close it just as quickly. What can you say that he doesn't already know? You're as transparent as glass to him, and even that is a goddamn understatement. All you offer is a slow nod, unsure but weighted—he wasn't looking for an answer, he was looking for submission.

"And you thought, maybe, that I would come to you. That I would react. That l'd be angry." His fingers brush up your cheek, slipping into your hair with the kind of intimacy that feels out of place given the circumstances. And, inevitably, when the pull comes biting at your scalp, it's a burn you enjoy more than you should. "Were you hoping I'd punish you?"

"Well—I-"

"You know, don't you," he tugs your hair again to quiet you. Every question he's asking is rhetorical. "You know that trying to provoke me is dangerous."

You nod, fast. "I know."

"You know that I don't like to be provoked."

"I know, I know, I-"

"Shh." His lips brush over your neck, just once—a soft, fleeting thing that promises everything and nothing at once. You can't help the way you lean into him. "You're just making this worse for yourself. No more talking."

You choke on your stupid ego, but force a nod. You asked for this. You won't fight him on it. Not here. Not now.

"Good." He hums, and you feel your heart dance, stomach leap at the barest flicker of approval in his tone. His breath skates over your jaw, and you try not to shake. "You want to show me how sorry you are, don't you?"

You nod again.

"Good." He tugs at your bottom lip and something curls at the corners of his own that doesn't quite qualify as a smile. "Turn around."

With your heart on the floor beneath your feet, you nod for a final time before doing as he asked. You find that turning is a difficult task, though not due to resistance—your body just won't cooperate—a mess of weak knees and shallow breaths and tingling skin. You do it, though, with his hand on your hip, guiding you, directing you, pushing you over the desk until you're bent at the waist, positioned just how he wants.

It's merely a moment before you feel him pressed against your back, feel his belt buckle digging into your ass—

"What do you think I should do to you?" His breath grazes the nape of your neck and reflexively, you arch into him—his hands slide up your thighs, hips, finding your waist and the band of your skirt—he tugs at your zipper, you remain quiet. You know he doesn't want you to answer. "I'm sure you had your hopes. Your assumptions."

Tom Riddle, you've determined, is a torturous lover—a slow hand, a tease until you're in tears from the overstimulation. A sort of devotee to fulfilling your needs while simultaneously tempering his own. He's so very restrained, in everything he does—not fervent, not right away, anyway—

"Maybe you hoped I'd degrade you. Remind you of your place." He tugs down the zipper, letting the fabric fall to the ground at your feet—you shudder and pull your lips tight, willing yourself to stay silent as the cool air hits you. Tom's hand roams over one of your asscheeks, pawing lazily before tapping his palm against it. “Maybe you wanted me to make you feel it."

—he only rushes—he's only careless when he's angry.

And god, he's angry now.

"Maybe." You force the reply through the sting he left on your skin. It's past midnight—quiet is everything but you two, and you're almost certain he locked the door behind him on the way in. You let your head bow, eyes fixed on the wood under your palms. "Maybe I do."

"Of course you do. You've never been subtle." His foot nudges yours further apart, his fingers trailing up your thigh, finding the damp ache between your legs. Your breath catches but you hold still, biting your tongue as he teases—digits gliding through your slit, swirling your clit. "I know you thought about it."

"About what?" You try, though the question barely gets out before his other hand smacks the thick of your ass again, harder this time. "Shit—"

"About what I'd do to you." The hand on your clit shifts to smooth over the sting, rubbing slow, while the other works the buckle of his belt. "Tell me what you wanted."

"I—" you pause, steadying, gathering yourself. You know you have to give him something, but it's hard to think when he's like this. "I—I wanted you to be...careless."

"Careless." He says it like he's savouring it, rolling it over his tongue like candy. It's not a word that suits him; you're not convinced he even knows how. "You want me to be rough—to be selfish. Like you were."

The moment his belt is loose you feel those slender fingers dip back into your slit, two of them pushing inside your cunt without warning, stretching you open as his trousers slip down his thighs— he grunts low, a sound that cuts into the quiet as his cock springs free and he presses it against you, unoccupied hand slipping back into your hair, pulling you up until you're flush with him.

"Yes." You're not sure who sounds more hollow for it—your voice for asking, his for granting it. "I want that. I deserve it. Please. Please—"

"Please. It's always please with you," he mocks, the words a hiss that burn your cheeks. "Yet, I don't get to be selfish like you, do I? I still have to show restraint."

"I mean—oh—fu—" you choke as his lips find your neck, muttering something against your skin before you feel the sudden cool slip of a lubing charm coating your asshole and cunt. "Tom-"

"Despite what you might believe, I've never had much in the way of patience," he breathes, a confession almost, something deeper—something that feels like it costs him. "Not when it comes to you."

"Tom—" you fucking gasp his name as he pulls his fingers from your cunt—only to drag them higher until they find your asshole. Despite his haste he's still at ease, massaging, pressing one finger against it until you let him in. He sinks slowly, curling slightly, and your thighs shake—lungs deflate. "Oh—oh, fuck, Tom—it's been—"

"A while, hasn't it?" He finishes, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, his finger sliding all the way in. "So tight for me. So—tight—"

"Tom—" a repetition of the last one, his name spilling from you like it’s the only goddamn word you know how to say. "Please, Tom. Oh god—"

"Shhh." He shushes, but it's not to quiet you; you know that. He's savouring this. He slips in a second finger, stretching you wider, working you open, and you're biting your lip to keep from crying out. "This isn't about you."

"You—" your voice breaks on another gasp, hands clutching at the desk. "—you think this is punishment."

"Partially." His muses as his fingers scissor, filling you with the most delicious ache. You're so slick, arousal running down your thighs, and that—oh no, that does not escape his notice. "Look at you, dripping for me. And yet,"

"Oh god." The realization crashes over you—it’s punishment as in orgasm denial. "That's—that's not—"

"Not fair?" There's a smirk in his voice, and though he doesn't say it, you hear the word that lingers beneath it: pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. He pulls his fingers out and you whine, feeling empty for half a second before the head of his cock glides against your slit, gathering your juices before finding its way up to the throbbing ring of muscle. "Isn't this what you wanted? For me to be selfish?"

"I just—" words scatter, useless, because you're trembling, breathing hard, and then he's pressing in, slow enough to save you pain but fevered enough to make you feel him. "Oh—oh—"

"Oh fuck." He says it breathless, as if it's an agony to fit himself inside of you. "Oh yes."

And it is an agony—for both of you, though for very different reasons. Tom is huge, and even on a good day, it's a struggle to take him. He's so deep, filling you in ways you'd forgot were possible. You struggle to hold yourself upright—legs visibly shaking, teeth gritting. He sinks all the way in, and in your mind, you can almost see the look on his face, the way his lashes flutter, the way his head tips back—

"Ah—“ he groans, a rough sound that's followed by a huff and a slight roll of his hips, like he's holding back, like he can't bring himself to move just yet. He yanks you up against him by your hair. "That's fucking tight, isn't it? This must be hell for you."

He's not wrong, it is. But it's hellish for Tom too, the type of hell the two of you inflict on eachother that is as fucking addicting as it is anything else—

"Just—" you manage to bite out breathlessly, but it's a struggle to make the words. "Move—"

"Make me," he grits, jerking your head to the side until your foreheads press together. "Convince me to use you. Tell me how badly you want it. How much of a whore you are for it."

Merlin help you, you moan at his words. It's that thing inside you—the needy, desperate part that's dying at his feet. You don't know what it is or why it's there; it just is, and it's greedy. It's not something you'd give into normally—your ego is far too big to give him the satisfaction of begging, not aloud—never in words that he could use against you later—but in these moments, you both learn to make exceptions.

"Dear god, Tom—please, just use me-" you push your hips back against him, one of his hands slide up your stomach, cupping your tits. "Please, l'm—I'm a pathetic, begging whore for you. God, I know you're pissed—I feel it—just take it out on me—l want it—"

He moans—a soft, almost gentle sound—and you know you've struck a nerve, the part of him that's equally as weak in the moment—the part of him that makes it all too easy for things to spiral like this.

"Goddamn you." Something inside him snaps, something that's been frayed, just waiting for a pull—and you've pulled it now, and oh you want, no, you need him to make you pay for it, to make it hurt. "You just—you always-"

He grunts, cutting himself off and in a way, it's almost like he's thanking you because you're giving him an outlet, something to take it out on. You test each other, push and pull and let the other break, because, at the end of the day, it always comes down to this. The two of you. Like this.

A sharp inhale, and he starts to thrust.

"Fuck!" it's all you manage, it's all you can manage, because it—just like that—feels the way you wanted it to feel but it also feels so much more intense, so intense that your brain can't keep up. "Oh god—oh fuck-"

"Fucking hell," he spits, like you're the worst thing in his world and the best thing all at once, and somehow, that makes perfect sense. He lets go of your hair, and you slump forward onto the desk, elbows barely holding you up as his hand smacks your ass, fingers spreading you apart. "So—so tight—“

You're a shuddering mess, helpless to it; all you can do is remember to breathe through it.

"That's it." Another smack to your ass, thrusts quick and deep. "Fuck. The things you drive me to do."

You know him so well—and he knows you just as damn well, and that's the point, isn't it? That's what this is all about. You're the perfect mix of wrong, a match that burns too hot it hurts but the ache makes him feel alive.

"I want to cum—" your neglected clit is begging for it, you’re fucking begging for it. "Tom please—"

At that, he laughs and it's mean and it's condescending and you love—God—how you love it and want it and can't get enough of it. His hips snap forward a little bit rougher and you lose a bit more of your sanity—

"You think you deserve to come, after what you did?" Another smack to your ass.

You don't know how to answer, and he doesn't wait for one anyway. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you—everything is so calculated and calculated and calculated. You've never once seen him falter, and you don't expect to see it now. You don't know if you'd survive it if you did.

"No." He answers for you. "You don't."

His fingers trace around your thigh, grazing your mound and finding your needy clit, your sopping slit, gliding through it—you moan louder than you should as he gathers your slick on his fingers, humming at what he finds there before retreating—bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open."

You open your mouth and he feeds you your need—the result of his selfishness. You love him for what he is and you love him for what he isn’t too. How he tries to be both, only when you ask.

"Taste that?" It's a whisper, something he's telling you.

You sob around his fingers as he fucks your ass deep—he pulls them out to let you respond. You nod. "Yes."

"Taste how much you want this?"

"Yes." A pathetic moan. The perfect response.

"Good girl." He presses the words into your hair, the back of your neck, along your spine. He sucks in a breath as he fucks like he needs it just to speak. "You're going to remember this the next time you think about doing something just to spite me, I hope you know that."

Of course you will. He knows it, you know it—there's no doubt in your mind that you'll remember this the next time you toy with his patience; the next time you give him a reason to discipline you again. And what's worse is: you'll do it anyway.

It's a battle you two will fight for eternity.

But you don't get a chance to respond, not that you'd have one anyways—because his hand is on your throat and his lips are at your ear and he's sucking in air through his teeth and then—

"I'm going to cum." He whispers and you hear the pain in it. "Fuck."

You shiver in reply; a whine of a whimper coming from the back of your throat. “Tom—“

"Shh." He shushes you with his free hand, gripping your jaw as his thrusts turn sloppy, erratic. "Fucking take it.”

God—you’ll take it. Of course you will. You asked for this, drove him to this point. You're both sick, but this is the kind that doesn't have a cure.

One of his hands moves to his own hair, tugging at the back of his head; it's the only hint you've had this whole time of how much he's affected by this, how much it's driven him mad. He's doing his best to keep control, to maintain composure and make sure you feel it—but it's the way his hand squeezes your hip when he lets go of your throat that gives him away.

It gives in to what he's been repressing.

"Ohhh—fuck—yes—" and then you feel it, feel him, hot and sticky and warm, filling your ass and holding you there until he’s finished. His body collapses against the back of yours, hips slow rolling until he's drained—until you’ve taken all of him, all of his anger and frustration and restraint along with it. He’s sweaty, exhausted, spent—forehead pressed to your hair. "You feel that?"

"You know I do." You're not allowed to sound so smug, not while you're in the position you're in, but you are. It’s why he loves you. "That's what you were looking for."

"No, that's what you were looking for." He nips your ear, and you hear the smile in his voice when he bites down on it and murmurs a, "and that's why you're my favourite," into it.

"And you mine, Tommy."

[flvvffy]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐁𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

wc: 531. proofread

biker!sukuna who loves to take you out on late night drives around the city whenever he can. just the quiet of the night and the feeling of your arms around his waist calm him down after such a stressful day. and the sound of you laughing as the wind blows in your hair, he never wants the night to end.

biker!sukuna who bought an extra helmet for you when you started going out together. yours being your exact size and a cute pink bow on it just because. your heart melted the first time he picked you up and helped you put the helmet on, the close proximity making your cheeks warm as he concentrated to make sure it was on securely.

biker!sukuna who dresses in full black everytime you see him. in the winter, he has on a black jacket, black cargo pants, black scarf, black boots and even black ear muffs. in the summer he has in a simple black tank top, black sweats and even black sandals, completely contrast from his pink hair.

biker!sukuna who loves his motorcycle more than ever and takes such good care of it as well as spending a lot of money on it. always making sure that it's spotless, not making any funny noises and always checking on it at least once every two weeks. absolutely no one is allowed to touch her, except you of course.

biker!sukuna who has multiple tattoos on his body and talks about them whenever you ask. he has an upper back tattoo, a sleeve tattoo on his right arm as well as a chest tattoo and your initials on the space just below his left ear. "this one was a dare back in highschool. i was so stupid", he points to a rose tattoo on his left pec with a smirk on his face reminiscing the good ol' days. he could honestly go on and on about them, if you let him. he's proud of the artwork on his body.

biker!sukuna who makes you wrap your arms around his waist whenever you get on the bike. you have to. it's not an option, unless you want to fly off with how fast he rides. he really does care for your safety, but he just likes the feeling of you clinging onto to him, your front pressed to his back. he's so glad you can't see how pink his cheeks and ears are getting.

biker!sukuna who always has his motorcycle in his pictures, usually the ones that he sends to you. one of his on the road with his helmet on, his compression shirt effortlessly showing his muscles looking absolutely scrumptious without trying. you always complement him, sending him various comments and he just smiles at his phone. "what a silly girl..."

biker!sukuna who bores you everytime he tells you about how and why he chose the bike that he has today. "there i was, lookin' around and them i saw her...she was so beautiful... callin' out to me...". he sees the eye rolls every two seconds but since you're not leaving, he might as well go on, no?

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[forgwater]

"Ah, yes. Me, my beloved Prefect and my lookalike tsum from another dimension."

Twst Boys and their reactions to you cuddling their tsum instead of them Headcanons

part 1 part 2 part 3

Riddle Rosehearts

He's baffled.

There has to be a rule about this somewhere!

Yes. The Headmage said he must look after the tsum until it can get back to where it came from and he will, but this is too much.

Does this creature have no manners?!

It must know the two of you are dating. It might even have its own version of you waiting for him to return!

And yet.

Here it is, hogging all your attention as you hold it close to yourself.

You're not even facing him!

And no. He is not crossing his arms and pouting.

Cater Diamond

He thought the tsum was pretty nice at first.

He's been forced to reconsider.

Cater would love to take a picture of you with his tsum. For his eyes only so don't you worry~

You must look so cute snuggled with the plush!

And it looks like him!

It really would be adorable!

If only you weren't facing away from him, your face presumably buried in the soft tummy of his lookalike.

.......

This is not fair. You should be cuddling him! He's your boyfriend! Not that overgrown bean.

He secretly hopes the tsum falls off the bed in the middle of the night.

Leona Kingscholar

What do you mean you prefer that stupid plush??? He's right here!

Very much not happy. No matter how cute you look with his tsum in your arms.

He tries to pull the tsum out of your arms.

Tsum Leona is not letting go.

They lock eyes.

You're pretty sure they're glaring at each other.

.....

Fine. He'll let the tsum have this. He's not gonna risk an accident just because that bean is unwilling to let you go.

You're gonna have his tail on you tho.

Jack Howl

Why are you hugging his tsum like that?

Why is his tsum looking like a puppy getting affection?

He's getting second hand embarrassment.

It's not because he would like to be held like that by you. It's because....

Uh. Because...

I mean! He's a wolf! His tsum is a wolf! It should be a little more... dignified.

He's not needy like that!

And he didn't agree to this. The tsum has not business being in his space like this. Cuddling with his s/o....

He keeps looking over to you and his tsum. He's snatching that bean out of your arms at first light. They're gonna go for a run.

Floyd Leech

So this could go one of two ways:

Either he's annoyed and tries to snatch the offending plush from you, which will end up in a fight between the two.

Or

He thinks it's hilarious and that you look cute like that.

He still wants his cuddles tho.

What's Floyd to do in this situation?

He just plops himself over you and the tsum. He's letting all of his weight crush you.

Lucky(?) for you it's only his torso crushing you.

Good luck.

Epel Felmier

He's finally allowed to have a sleepover and this happens!

You've got to be kidding him.

Please tell him this is a joke. He's glaring daggers at the tsum.

I mean.... He's a strong and independent man! He doesn't need those cuddles.

Yes. Yes he does.

He's fine!

He keeps glaring at the happy tsum in your arms.

It's mocking him.

There's no way it's not.

He tries to snatch it out of your arms, but makes the mistake of going for the head.

He gets bitten by his tsum.

Sebek Zigvolt

First Malleus-sama, now this!

This creature must be taught respect!

HOW DARE IT JUMP INTO YOUR ARMS SO SHAMELESSLY!!!!

WHO DOES IT THINK IT IS?!

A KNIGHT TO MALLEUS SHOULD NOT BEHAVE THIS WAY!

UNBELIEVABLE!

Sebek gets into a one-sided screaming match with his tsum.

By the end of it he's almost in tears. How dare this glorified plush bean steal your affections away from him!

Tsum Sebek ignores all of this. It is far too preoccupied with enjoying your pets and hugs.

You attempt to console Sebek by promising it's only for tonight.

He does not look consoled.

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: The type of kiss they like or so they think...

Warning: for 16+ only, Suggestive, Mildly implicit, self-insert, gender neutral.

Author's notes: Here's my first Lnds post! There's many more to come so i'll be creating a masterlist once i make 3 hcs

If you ask Sylus:

He'll say he likes the deep, breathy kisses during your make-out session with him; you pressed against his bed or his sofa, sometimes on the counter, and him being in between your thighs. He likes it when he grabs your jaw and leads the kiss. He likes seeing you flustered, even more so: Teary-eyed and catching your breath, but in reality—he likes the quick, chaste peck you give him at random parts of the day. It always catches him off guard, be it a quick peck as a goodbye or a peck you give him after winning a plushie. To almost every chaste kiss you give, he'll freeze for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights, before watching you move along with your task as if the kiss was something spontaneous. It makes him feel like something…something pleasant, of course. Of course, he'll never admit that to you.

If you ask Zayne:

He says the kisses during quiet, intimate moments are the ones he likes most: kissing while you stroll the park late at night or passionate but brief kisses between shows. Sometimes, he also prefers kisses in public spaces. However, not necessarily the long, deep ones, but rather the kiss where you pull him down to kiss you, or he reels you up so you can reach his lips; the sort of kiss where you ignore everyone around you for a reasonable amount of time. And he believes he won't ever tell you this unless he gets maddeningly drunk, but he likes it when you kiss him when you're angry or when you're in a bit of a daring mood. Unbeknown to himself, he likes it when you play rough and take the lead when you give him orders and glare at him, sitting on his lap and forcing his mouth to open and make way for you. Whenever this happens, it is also a way for him to let off some steam from work— he knows he doesn't have to be gentle with you, especially with how rough you're kissing him by then.

If you ask Xavier:

He'll almost always say he likes the kisses he steals from you after eating something sweet and flavorful. He likes how you're taken off guard by him holding your wrist and licking your glossy lips from the lollipop you ate or that instance where a thin film of icing hung at the corner of your lips. He likes the taste of the food and you mingling together. Your blushing is a bonus as well. But between him and his favorite action figure, He likes it most when he backs you into a wall when he no longer acts meek & cute and turns into a sly little minx with you. He likes it when you don't realize you're being pressed against the wall with nowhere to go. When he towers over you and doesn't break eye contact, those rare moments are when you go silent at his off-character actions; He likes those moments, especially knowing what entails beyond the kisses he gives you shortly after he's done teasing.

If you ask rafayel:

He says, almost too confidently, that he likes the kisses where you compliment him soon afterward. Be it a short kiss or a long, deep French kiss, it doesn't matter if you say the right words to make him feel assured of himself and your relationship. "You're beautiful," "My little fishy," and "I love you" are always appreciated as they fuel his ego the most. Without realizing it, he likes a particular type of kiss, the kind of kiss where you leave him marks. The kiss during your steamy sessions where you nibble at his delicate skin in areas where it wasn't visible to the public. On his chest, back, or stomach, and if he allows it, on his neck. He likes it when you trail kisses on any part of his body. Still, he loses his mind when you leave marks, treating him like a canvas, which is pretty ironic considering he's supposed to be the artist.

Author footnotes: Kinky Xavi— i genuinely believe he's a super freaky guy beneath that doe eyed cutie. Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune

[sv3t1ana]

SYNOPSIS ᯓ You were always meant to be nothing. A servant, a shadow in the grand halls, another soul swallowed by his world. And yet, he sees you. Knows you better than you want to be known. When you stop running, was it ever a chase at all?

PAIRING ᯓ trueform! Sukuna x fem! reader

WARNINGS ᯓ fem! reader, throat fucking, Sukuna is murderous, choking (barely), oral (m + f receiving), two cocks (one hole), second mouth, he's lowkey down bad for you, stomach bulge, he cries, choking on it, he wants everyone to hear you, you're lowkey jealous because he fucks you so well.

WORD COUNT ᯓ 3.4k

SERIES ᯓ GOJO ⋮ GETO ⋮ CHOSO ⋮ SUKUNA

No time for anything but duty.

Dawn was yet to break when you stirred from your thin, pearl white bedding, the distant toll of a gong signaled the start of another day to service the King of Curses. Frigid air coming from your open window causing goosebumps to kiss your skin, fingers stiff while you pushed upward to swing your feet off the bed.

The grand hall awaited.

Moving quickly through the dim corridors, your footsteps slapped against the stone. Other servants were bouncy, murmuring among themselves as they hurried to their own tasks. For some reason, Sukuna preferred you. That fact alone ensured you were allowed no leisure, no freedom, no pleasure.

The grand hall was vast, towering pillars with gilded braziers. It was your responsibility to rekindle them, to sweep away the remnants from last night’s indulgences. Scattered bones, wine stains, the destruction Sukuna left wherever he went. You worked in silence, sweeping, scrubbing, making sure to leave not a trace of mess before he entered.

By midday, your monotonous duties led you to Sukuna’s chambers. A cavernous space lined with dark silks and the ever-present scent of blood. You moved with your usual practiced efficiency, wiping down the lacquered surfaces and straightening furnishings. All while listening, there was always something to hear.

Today it was Uraume’s voice, calm and collected.

“They begged for mercy.”

Sukuna chuckled, low and amused. “Did they?”

“You slew them anyway.”

“Their supplications did but offend me,” he spoke, tone laced with disdain, waving his hand dismissively. “To levy demands upon one such as I… how unworthy the breath spent.”

Uraume didn’t argue. They never did. No one did.

It was always like this, he destroyed for no reason. No one dared to question it.

A heavy presence filled the room as you straightened the last piece of furniture. A kind of presence that made the hairs along your arms raise before you turned. You knew what was about to happen.

“You are slow today.”

His voice was smooth. You kept your eyes down, focusing on the task at hand.

“I am thorough,” you corrected, wringing the cloth in your hands over the soapy water bucket.

“Hm.”

A single sound. You’ve been here long enough to hear his smirk.

You swallowed the sharp retort that rested on your taste buds and moved toward the door when you finished your last task. Before you could reach it—

“Woman.”

You stopped, not by choice but because it was a command. Even if it wasn’t meant to be.

“Do you find my chambers displeasing?”

You blinked once, face expressionless. “I find them filthy.”

Another pause, then a laugh. Though not cruel, but entertained.

“Good.”

He merely watched as you turned on your heel and left.

You hated him.

You hated everything about him.

His arrogance, his amusement of suffering, the way he looked at you as though he were waiting for something, like one day you might offer him more than disdain.

You hated being here at all. That all your life was to serve him. Losing all purpose and reduced to serving a homicidal monster who thought himself a god.

And yet, he preferred you. That was the worst part.

He would never let you be. That's why you were the only servant allowed to perform duties inside his personal chambers. It made you wonder why you were always given the task of cleaning up after him, it was like he wanted you to see what he did.

It had been weeks of the same grueling routine of your new schedule, of enduring his presence and feeling the unwieldy weight of his gaze even when you weren’t looking. You should have expected it, that sooner or later he would grow tired of the silent treatment.

Your summons came at dusk. One of the lesser servants palpitating as they spoke.

The lord has requested you.

His chamber was dimly lit, braziers casting shadows against the silk-draped walls. Sukuna was reclined, one arm against the curve edged atop his throne.

“Woman.”

You stopped a few paces before him, reluctantly bowing to the floor.

“Lord.” The word seared your tongue, burning like embers from a growing flame.

A slow smirk grew on his lips. “How obedient.”

He studied you for a moment, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. Exhaling through his nose like he was disappointed, “you hate me.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Is it amusing to state the obvious, my lord?”

He chuckled, “I find amusement in many things.” A pause, then quieter, more deliberate, “you, most of all.”

Your fingers twitched, brows furrowing slightly as your eyes narrowed. “Then find new entertainment.”

His smirk widened. More certainty than mockery from before.

“You loathe me,” he mused. “And yet, here you stand. When I call, you come.”

“I am a servant.”

“A servant whose words do not wane. And yet, you do not leave.”

You swallowed, no response to give. Truth is you took up being a servant for added protection and the free rent. Beforehand, you had been struggling to make ends meet for years. Now, you are one of the longest lasting servants Sukuna had the pleasure of employing. You could leave, sure, at the expense of your life. But you already gave your life up to serve him. It was this or death.

Sukuna leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Is it duty that keeps you here?” His eyes flickered, “or something else?”

Your breath caught halfway down your throat.

There it was, the shift. The shift you refused to acknowledge, the one he stoically waited for you to realize.

The thing is, he didn’t demand it. He didn’t ask. He simply made it inevitable.

And you hated him for it.

The silence between you stretched. You should have scoffed and turned on your heel already, leaving without another word. But here you were, feet remaining on the polished floor, fingers gripping the inside of your sleeves.

Sukuna only watched, an unreadable expression you’ve grown to detest. He had no smug grin, no sharp amusement. Only patience. He was waiting like he always did.

Your jaw clenched while your eyes darted to the floor. “You are mistaken if you think—”

He shifted and rose to his feet in one shift motion. The space between you disappeared too quickly. His presence was overwhelming, looming over him the thousands of innocent lives taken for the sake of amusement. Entertainment. One clawed finger reached forward, catching the edge of your chin and tilting your face upward.

“Am I?”

His voice was low, deep. Something sent heat crawling through your blood vessels, blaze threatening to set your skin on fire.

“You assume much,” you bit out. Resisting the instinct to pull away, resisting the urge every cell in your body was screaming at you for to pull away. After all, he would win if you did.

“I assume nothing.” His thumb brushed the curve of your jaw, cocking his head back to truly look down at you. “I see.”

Your breath was uneven, rage and something else twisting in your chest creating the perfect mixture of rage, uneasiness, desire? “And what is it you think you see?”

A deliberate smile spread across his face slowly.

“A human who does not flinch.” His fingers traced lower, skimming your throat before resting his fingers around the back of your neck and thumb resting lightly in the curve between your collarbones.

“A human who has spent years writhing over a hatred that wavers.”

“No.” You answered, “you’re wrong.”

He hummed, stepping back and releasing the hold around you. Giving you just enough space to breathe, but not enough space to release you from the metaphorical tether he tied, binding you both together.

“Perhaps,” he pondered. “Or perhaps you are afraid of what hatred becomes when it festers too long.”

There was an invitation, a challenge in his tone. Something else entirely different from the usual amuse present in his gaze.

You should leave.

Walk away.

Turn and never come back.

But you didn’t.

That was all the answer he needed.

The worst part was he never saw you as weak, he didn’t dismiss you like he did other servants. He knew you would kneel before him willingly so there was no point in asking. Instead, he lured, pulled, and twisted until you were the one standing too close.

He leaned in, breath ghosting over your ear and down your neck. “Tell me, human,” he murmured. “If your hate is so pure, why is it that you linger?”

You could only shake your head, will your heart to stop its swift pace.

Moments of silence pass, Sukuna feeling you through his eyes, arms crossed across his chest while you kept your gaze low and head slightly bowed.

“What is it that you want?”

He smiled, slow and knowing. “Ah,” he said, tilting his head and bringing his hand up to his chin as if he was in great contemplation. “Finally, the right question.”

“You know what I want,” he continued, his voice nothing over a small rumble. “The real question is, what is it that you seek?”

Your breath stilled, he was doing it again.

Twisting, digging, forcing you to see something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

You hated him.

And yet—you wanted him.

He hummed and walked away, turning around half way to curl his finger at you, petitioning you to follow. You did just that, unsure of how this all happened. How had you got here in the first place? Your own feet brought you here, yet you barely remember the journey. Here you remain, following your lord where his bed lay.

It’s then that he grabbed your body whole, whipping you around to face him while he sat on his bed as you stood between his legs.

“Well?” He began after moments of stillness and silence. “On your knees.” While he gripped the crown of your head and pushed you to the floor.

You didn’t resist. In fact, you obliged without hesitation.

You skillfully opened his robe to reveal his rock hard length. Holding back a gasp at the sight before you—two cocks. Nimbly gripping both with each hand, choking each while you lapped your tongue on both tips, spitting and letting it drip to his base, giving each equal treatment.

He watched before you, an expressionless face as you loved on his cocks, reacting indifferently.

You gazed up with inquisition to watch his reaction as you dragged your tongue down one and began pumping a steady rhythm with the other in hand.

He let out a quiet hiss, almost too quiet for your dept ears to hear when you completely enveloped him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his length while his cock head grazed your uvula, causing you to gag. You coughed around his cock, letting dribbles of spit mixed with his precum drip from your mouth to his base. You sucked and sucked, pinching your cheeks around his thick veiny circumference.

You only popped! your mouth off him when you felt his hips jerk in attempt to throat-fuck you. It wasn’t now that he was allowed that control. Not after the nauseating consciousness he forced upon you earlier.

Lowering your lids while you traced the veins up and down his second cock, using your free hands to jerk his other, twisting in tandem, squeezing tightly when you reached his angry red tip. You pointed your tongue and circled his tip and opening, as if to tease the one you serve.

You watched as his eyes narrowed, you saw the way he held back his moans. You saw the way he had to fight his body going limp by positioning his arms to brace his upper body behind him.

You embraced his second cock in your mouth, this time letting one hand pump the length your mouth couldn’t reach. He brought his hand out to smack yours away, gripping the back of your skull and pushing you down.

You choked, coughed, gagged. Tears brimming the corner of your eyes when you moaned and adjusted to the sensation of his cock in your throat.

And he was so deep you were sure he could see the outline of it. His breath quickened for a moment before he pulled you off. “Enough.” He said calmly. He wasn’t calm.

He grabbed your forearms to pull you atop him, forcing your clothed pussy to graze his spit covered, sloppy cocks.

“Your garments. Remove them at once.” He demanded.

You did as told, taking your time in attempt to mock him. Pulling your shirt over your head slowly to reveal your braless chest. You watched his blank face, not missing the way his pupils dilated ever-so-slightly when your rotund tits bounced out from the fabric holding them back. He gripped one firmly in his large hand, letting the plush tissue of your breast pillow between his fingers as he massaged with greedy desire, letting out a quiet hm like he was deciding something, or rather, coming to a conclusion.

He wanted this just as much as you.

When you removed your pants and panties he grabbed your waist tightly to position you so your pussy would grind against his cocks that lay on his naturally-defined abs.

“Hah,” he laughed. Feeling your dripping cunt coat him in even more of your sweet fluids. “Ready for me already, are you?” He still gripped you with two hands, using an extra hand he slapped your pussy. The sound of it squelching filled the empty room as he kept slapping it, causing your eyes to roll back into your skull.

You splayed your fingers on his chest for support, looking up at him with a distressed look on your face when he positioned his first cock at your entrance.

“Human, can you not handle me?” It was a rhetorical question. Not that you’d give him the pleasure of hearing your answer even if it wasn’t.

You furrowed your brows and sat down as if to prove a point, filling yourself up immediately with one of his cocks, ignoring the pain, the sting you felt while he nearly tore you apart.

He gritted his teeth, “I see now.” He smiled, “you are too inexperienced.”

You stuffed yourself repeatedly, almost seeing stars every time your hips descended at the limited capacity your small body had in comparison to him. “Inexperienced?” you huffed out between breaths, tears rolling down your cheeks and eyes pinched shut. “My lord… should you… expect me to… lay with more men?”

“I never said such a thing.” He growled, seeking the strength to resist stuttering his hips from your painfully languid pace. He didn’t want to hurt you too much.

You felt your walls begin to flutter around his cock already, your clit hitting the wet tongue of the mouth on his stomach every time you filled yourself with him. It had been only a few minutes of this, and yet your body still hasn’t adjusted. He had a good two inches that wouldn’t fit. His tip was already kissing your cervix, the ache that rang through your entire body like a bell when your poor pussy couldn’t keep up with even a slow pace. He was painfully large.

“Make haste, human.” He spoke, lowering his lids and sucking an inhale through his lips. “Hasten your pattern. Reach your precipice.”

You felt the building pressure in your stomach when he spoke, the coil tightening in your abdomen as you lost composure and came from a single one of his cocks alone when you felt him internally grunt and muscles tighten beneath your palms. Your body nearly went limp, as when you went to collapse forward he caught you, switching positions quickly so you lay on your back with him between your legs, now pulled out from your entrance.

“Inadequate,” he voiced, gripping both cocks with either hand, centered at your entrance. “This shall be rectified at once.”

And before you knew it, he was inching both of his cocks inside you. It burned, it felt as if he was searing you apart, like you were a fly compared to an elephant. The throb you felt radiating through you that started at your center, the sweet, sweet throb.

You saw the way he looked up at you, looking for permission to continue. You threw your head back whimpering, gripping the sheets at your sides with your mouth agape. Looking at him once more to see him avert his concerned gaze turn into a more nonchalant one.

“You must take this.” He looked down, having the tongue on his lower stomach dart out to lap at your folds, caressing your clit with care as if to soothe your pain.

He took the hint when you linked your ankles behind his sculpted back, pulling him in. He gripped your thighs, threw your ankles above his shoulders and pulled your body to him. Letting him fill up as much as possible before hitting the limit.

Getting in another inch or two, he began his erratic pace. Grunting as he thrusts, he held a wicked, evil smirk on his face while he gripped your waist like you’d run away.

“I… I still hate you,” you reminded him. Sukuna made you drunk. It was the pain, the pleasure, the agony from losing this fight with him. He only let out a demented laugh in response.

You panted loudly, clenching around his length as if it were a lifeline. You’d gotten somewhat used to his size with just one cock, and now he fucked you apart with both. It was truly a transcendental experience, pain morphing into pleasure, hate turning into a reluctant passion.

He removed one cock and began fucking you at an erratic pace with the other. His other cock slapping your stomach each time he snapped his hips, rutting into you and grunting like an animal.

You were still so tight, and now his one cock could fit fully inside you, like he really did stretch you out to fit him. He saw the bulge of himself outlining your lower abdomen, giggling to himself.

“You humans,” he huffed out, voice low and gritty, “are so fragile.”

Your moans only became louder when he pounded faster, deeper. At one point deciding to cover your own mouth in attempt to lower your voice from being heard, he smacked it away.

“You must not.” He commanded. “The estate must be apprised of our connection.”

He then brought his calloused hand to rest at the base of your neck, teetering on the edge of just barely gripping you but still keeping you in his hold. Your fingers linked behind his neck, beckoning him to come closer.

Your lips met, kissing for the first time and sharing breaths, moaning in his mouth. And fuck, was he a good kisser. You wondered if he’d ever done this before… and with who.

His lips devoured yours like he’d been waiting years for your arrival. Like he could never get enough. It was such a stark contrast to his usual bloodthirsty demeanor. He was ruthless in having you, lying in wait for you to realize what you already knew. The festered hatred splitting in two to create something new. The fire burning in your chest with hate wasn’t so different from the fire in the pit of your stomach as his cock alone made you cum for the second time tonight.

Sukuna rarely demanded, and he never chased. He simply stood, watched, and waited.

When the moment came, and years lying in wait for the moment when you turned toward and not away, he would not gloat. He would only smirk, as if to say, finally.

For all his taunting, smug certainty, he was just as bound to you as you were to him, your lord. Something about you was different than the rest of the servants. The care and precision you put into your duties was different than their usual mindless acts of submission. Your defiance was sharp and deliberate. You may serve him, but you never belonged to him.

And that was what he sought most from humans and rarely found. Not a servant, not obedience, but you. Entirely and willingly consumed by something stronger than hatred.

That’s why he gravitated towards you, and that’s why he picked you to be the first human to ever become intimate with him.

Therefore he waited. He waited for the moment you’d stop resisting the inevitable. For the moment you were his just as he, in the depths of his cruel, stubborn heart, was yours.

Which is why when he expended himself, painting your walls with thick ropes after ropes of cum, room filled with the slowing slap of skin, grunts, panting, smelling of shared sweat and sex, you just had to ask,

“My lord, are you crying?”

[gremlingottoosilly]

König x Housekeeper!Reader? He was expecting some little old lady, not a college student looking for an extra side hustle to pay their tuition. He can already picture them as a housewife as they work around his mess of a place.

You're playing with the poor man's heart! When he was signing up for the weekly maid services, he hoped that it would be different people each time. Calling in for a housekeeper and a cleaner is already embarrassing enough at his grown age - there is a voice inside his head that tells him he should man the fuck up and stop being so damn difficult about watching over his own house, but having a regular maid who would know just how messy his life is...yeah, he was not having it. He needed someone old and boring, someone who, preferably, doesn't even speak German so he won't have to awkwardly master the conversation. He got you instead. You're...you're fucking perfect. In cozy and comfortable clothes, nothing that hugs your body and suggests something innappropriate - and yet every time you bend over, he can't help but imagine the way your ass must look under these baggy pants and has to fight the urge to just grab your waist and slam his erection against the curve of your hip. You're eager to work, you buzz around the messy house like a busy bee you are - there isn't much of his personal items inside, but his clothes and various gear laying around does make it a messy space. You were wondering if he is either a soldier or a serial killer, judging by the amount of weapons you got laying around...but it's better to not ask this question. You just needed some money, and the maid services are paying on the day of work - with repeating clients actually sometimes leaving you a nice tip or something to eat if you were to clean their houses at the dead of the night...it's really nice, somehow. Konig just can't keep his hands to himself sometimes. You look too adorable not to compliment on how you look - although he never dares, usually just staring at you from the corner. You're probably thinking he is afraid of you stealing something, but it's not like you really care about any of this, to be completely honest...you just want to keep your head low and get money. Unfortunately for you, Konig has a thing for housewife and domestic life. One time you were doing the routinely cleaning and it got really late - and with Konig literally having his house as far from civillization as possible, ass the buses were already leaving from the stations, leaving you stranded until the morning...and you'd be fucked or in for a very hefty taxi bill if it weren't for Konig oh so generously allowing you to spend the night at the guest room. You knew each other for a few months already, and the guy is harmless...naturally, you agree. Naturally, you never left this house without him again.

[streamsofmoon]

18+ | vi x f!reader

synopsis: vi's perspective to the pizza delivery guy before the delivery.

a/n: i'm happy that you all enjoyed the pizza delivery guy fic and at your request, here is a part two!

part 1

vi has noticed how the pizza delivery guy looks at you. how his eyes linger longer than they should when he's passing off the order. how he tries so hard to make you laugh, taking your polite giggles as success.

it used to irk vi before; she's quite protective of you. some might even say possessive would be the right word. you're hers to have and to hold, to kiss and to fuck, to love until the end of eternity. no one in their right mind would ever threaten that.

but then it got interesting.

"what's this?" vi asks, showing a napkin that has a phone number on it. there's also a name but vi can't be fucked to care about it. you had just ordered from that pizza place and of course, pizza delivery guy had been the one to bring it.

you're busy chewing on a mouthful of cheesy goodness, cheeks adorably bunched up, as you make a questioning noise. then you’re swallowing, looking at the number with a tilt of your head.

"oh, that's odd," you say before taking another bite of your slice. "i'm guessing it's from the delivery guy."

vi scowls. "yeah, no shit," she murmurs, balling up the napkin with a little more strength than necessary. "that's bold of him. what did he think was gonna happen?"

"that i'd call him?" you reply innocently, licking pizza sauce off your fingers. "he doesn't know i'm taken. you're usually hiding in the back or coming home from work when the pizza arrives. so he's probably taking his shot." you shrug, a mischievous smile curving your lips. "why, you threatened?"

vi snorts loudly, instantly rolling her eyes as she shoves some pizza into her mouth. she doesn't say anything else, though, which prompts you to crawl into her lap. which vi immediately makes space for as she sets her plate to the side.

"you know you're my one and only, right?" you say softly, looking at her with adoring eyes. "as if i'd ever fall for anyone else when i have you looking at me."

"i know," vi murmurs, greasy hands going to squeeze at your waist. "you're just as obsessed with me as i am with you."

"exactly," you whisper, leaning to plant a kiss against her mouth. a kiss that turns deep with her tongue licking into your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you moan into it.

that solidifies vi's slightly shaken resolve; something that shouldn't have been shaken in the first place.

but the thing is that you're so amazing; you're everyone's dream girl. you're beautiful and fantastic, you've got a heart of gold. you make vi love every single day because she knows that you exist. the fact that other people are attracted to you isn't a shock, but other people know to stay away from you. because she's always there by your side, sending off warnings to anyone who dare come close.

this is the first time someone has broken through her barrier, and it genuinely stings.

the barrier needs to be rebuilt again—stronger this time.

so vi orders pizza again a week later, knowing the pizza delivery guy will show up without fail. then she times thirty minutes and begins the plan that's been simmering in her head for days.

you're in the living room, curled up on the couch as you scroll through your phone. something's firmly captured your attention, allowing vi to descend on you without alerting you. there's barely any time to yelp when vi grabs your phone, tosses it on a cushion, and gets flat on your back.

"vi—?" you try, cutely puzzled, but a gasp escapes you when skilled fingers slide your panties to the side. "oh..." your mouth drops open, a tiny moan at the back of your throat as vi presses two fingers in.

vi groans at your warmth, slightly wet, as she uses her thumb to tease at your clit. your hips jump at the touch, your thighs parting wider for vi to slip between them. "good girl," she praises sweetly. "always ready to open up for me. already getting so wet from my touch."

"fuck," you whimper, slowly starting to roll your hips into the push and pull of vi's thrusts. "yes, a-always for you..."

"that's my baby," vi coos, her thrusts getting sharper and meaner. every thrust creating a shlick and squlech to show just how soaked your cunt has become.

she makes you cum once and fucks you through until you're cumming again, back arched and thighs trembling. you're crying when she expertly pushes you into another orgasm, too fast and rough enough that it makes you squirt all over her fingers and some of the couch.

"vi, i—" you choke on your next words, eyes rolling back as vi stakes her claim on your neck. as she digs her teeth into the bolt of your jaw, panting into your skin as her own hips rut into the couch below.

all it takes is thirty minutes until there's a knock on the door.

the pizza has arrived, and you're struggling to grasp at some semblance of sense. vi leaves you on the couch with a kiss and answers the door with your slick still on her hands.

the guy looks at her in shock, taking her in, and vi's pleased to see the barely hidden terror in his eyes.

"do i owe you anything?" she asks nonchalantly, knowing damn well she doesn't. but she's enjoying this too much to let it end quickly.

then, as if you hadn't just been fingerfucked through the couch, you appear in all your freshly fucked glory. you whine to her that you're hungry and you're a beautiful dirty mess, covered in her marks with thighs slicked from your release. you greet him happily, oblivious to his shock as he takes you in.

vi knows he knows, judging by how he stares down at your thighs when you take the pizza box. the oversized shirt lifting just enough to tease what lies underneath.

as you leave, vi notes how his eyes don't leave you, and this is where she rebuilds that barrier even stronger than before.

"watch your eyes next time," she threatens, meaning it with her entire soul.

then she slams the door in his face.

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Viktor will deny this every time it comes up, but he's a horribly jealous person. He hates watching you get hit on, hates watching you have to entertain some idiot's conversation at a cocktail party while they try to catch a glimpse down the front of your shirt. This is one of the few things that will actually get him to be public with his affection. (Not that he's ashamed of you. Frankly, he's ashamed of himself- but you'll work that out later.)

If he notices someone taking liberties they shouldn't, daring to press their palm into your forearm to emphasize a point or smooth down a loose strand of hair, he'll sidle up next to you and slip his arm around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin solidly enough that you're always aware he's touching you. He won't be so rude as to interrupt the conversation- he has his funding to think of, after all. Instead he'll tilt his head, indicating that the other person go on, inevitably about some point of intellect they clearly believe they have more knowledge of than they do. He'll allow them to come to the end of their thought, however long-winded, and only then will he speak- and disassemble their entire point of view in the space of sentences. What they say is true if the underlying assumption holds up, but what grounds are there to assume? Surely one cannot draw a conclusion on so little evidence. And perhaps they haven't heard, but most recent analysis suggests their proposition is doomed to fail. Hasn't the council already debated something similar? Practically laughed it off the table?

Viktor will swear there moments have nothing to do with jealousy, that it's not his fault you seem to attract the ignorant. But the third time he does it, reducing some poor woman to stuttering, you see the glint in his amber eyes, the smugness that pulls the corner of his mouth upward. He enjoys this. Oh, he never lets it show, adopting a neutral tone that grows ever more polite as his critique gets harsher, but he takes a twisted sort of pride in scaring off anyone who gets a little too familiar with you. Look how good he is for you, how much better than any one of them could ever be.

[suiana]

(yandere! alien x gn! reader)

the human spirit is indomitable. that much was obvious, especially with how you were still fighting against him even though there was clearly no escape. or at least that's what he thought.

"why do you still fight against me..."

the alien mumbles, voice cracking as he tries to move under the rubble you trapped him under. shit, this was not ideal at all. he can't believe you actually manage to drug him and then trapped him under the broken ceiling you shattered when he was chasing after you.

he still didn't know how you did it. he was faster, stronger, smarter... you shouldn't have been able to trick him like this. yet, his overconfidence might've been a reason as to why you got a one-up over him.

"you know there's no escape right? my spaceship has yet to dock at a port and we are light years away from earth."

the otherworldly creature tries reasoning with you, staring at your shaking figure as you tug at the collar he made you wear. it was a pretty thing, made of the finest jewels he got from another planet he visited a few years back.

he thought it would look good on you, and it did. so his heart aches when you destroyed it, allowing the jewels to scatter all over his once pristine floors.

no matter, he can just fix it again.

"darling, you should stop resisting. you will just tire yourself out."

the alien sighs, not finding your actions amusing as he shakes his head.

he doesn't get humans at all. why do you try so hard even when there's clearly no intelligent way to win this? perhaps that's why your civilization is still heaps below others, like his.

that was, until, he saw you dig out the microchip tracker he implanted into your neck with your bare hands.

his eyes widen in horror, jaw going slack as he screams, body shaking as he desperately tries moving under the rubble only for you to step on his face and throw the chip at him.

"fucking alien... don't you know? adrenaline is one hell of a drug."

he hears your laughter resounding through the hallways, your footsteps growing softer and softer as he tries to recover from your painful stomp.

his eyes shake, his features in undeniable pain as he feels his body giving up on him.

no, no, no!

he tries wiggling more, but unfortunately, his species had not adapted to recover from situations like this. so all he could do as he laid in pain under the rubble was to shout at you, desperation in his tone as he sees you touching and entering something into the emergency escape pod he had on his spaceship.

"darling don't you dare leave!"

he screams, looking absolutely pathetic as his eyes widen in both fear and anger. no! you weren't supposed to leave! you were supposed to be just some human who would give up escape and love him! you were supposed to accept him as your mate the second he kidnapped you because of how obsessed he had become after observing you for weeks in his spaceship!

you weren't supposed to leave him under the rubble like this!

you're clearly weaker, more stupid... and definitely an inferior species! why couldn't you just love him?! why couldn't you just give up and accept his affections?!

"darling! i'm warning you! if you leave i will find you and i will be very angry!"

the alien tries threatening, wincing in pain as the effects of your face stomping still lingered. but of course, he knew you wouldn't listen to him. not when you so eagerly pointed your middle finger at him (a sign he came to see as disrespect in human customs) before leaving in the space shuttle.

he lets out a strangled scream, completely still under the rubble as his frustration and anger reaches it's peak. god damn it! now he has to wait for god knows how long until the drug wears off to finally be able to move and try to find you!

maybe he shouldn't have doubted humans so much. perhaps the rumors about the human spirit being indomitable were right. maybe the humans really were meant to conquer the stars.

[bamjio]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓. ☆ tmr, Minho.

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: A little one night stand with Minho wouldn't hurt, right?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): smut/adultery actions , drinking , explicit language , soft scenes , implied voyeurism , appropriately 16+.

𝘋𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘐𝘔𝘌𝘙 !! keep in mind that my content is simply for entertainment and leisure purposes. ONLY, I am not promoting inappropriate actions; especially if you're still immature and not ready.

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑★ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊, as you silently sat on the benches, gallys' moonshine in your hand, you took a sip.

Some of the boys had gotten to be tipsy or drowsy; while few of them were still lively, you had counted around 14 to 16 boys still participating in the twilights' dead occasion, and one of those boys laid a very rowdy and daring Minho. He was telling his group a very 'interesting' and 'thrilling' story— well, based on how he delivered it, and how they reacted so dramatically.

You sat in far from them, but close to the bonfire admiring Minhos' ridiculously charming spirit. Drinking small sips of the moonshine, avoiding getting tipsy.

After a few minutes, you got quite sleepy and decided to go to your hut, getting up— you got startled by a sudden noise of someone falling into a pile of things

"(Name), wait..!!"

A familiar charming yet deep voice catches up, turning around to see Minho jogging towards you unsteadily, as you stopped to wait for him

"Hi."

"You... you... you know, haha.. I have something to say.."

He drunkly yet confidently said, looking at you intensly, looking quite serious. You looked at him with a curious and worried expression— speaking up. "Yes, Minho?" I tilted my head slightly. by reflex— you held on to his shoulder, since he was gonna fall to the stones again.

"You're so... soo... sooo.... cute." He burped, laughing after, as you chuckled along slightly.

"I think it's time to go to sleep." You scolded, wiping his face. "Whaattt?? Its—" burp. "Not even— that dark.. see?" He refused, pointing at the shining moon, as you smiled at his oblivious and childish behavior

"That's a moon, and that's what they do." You replied, holding on to his heavy weight.

"Sorry. Let's go." He mumbled, getting drowsy as his head falls to my head. 'Ouch.'

As you both walked to the homestead, boys homestead. He stopped mid track, letting go of himself and gripping both your shoulders "(name). I really... really... superr.. like you." He giggled, grinning at you as he unexpectedly gave you a tight hug

If you were being honest, you blushed. Earning an uncontrollable smile from him. 'He's just drunk' you thought to yourself, believing in getting admired back was to funny to think, for you.

He let go and put his arm around again, acting like nothing happened as he walked uneasily.

Finally— upon arriving in his futon, you out him down gently, trying too hard not to bang his head due to his heavy weight; for you, since you don't lift weights like the other boys' do.

As you were about to leave he grabbed your arm, gripping it tight and pulling you, causing you to fall on your butt, leaving a small 'ah!' From the pain.

"Stay.—"

"—please? I know you're not allowed, but just for once?"

He murmured, looking at your eyes. His face was in a pinkish blush, and his eyes looked too doe to say no.

"For a minute." You mumbled, staying close to him, crossing your legs to stay nearby, but he rolled to the side, patting the space left. "Here, not there. And don't sit, please." He half-whisperly demanded, tugging your arm as you obliged, not wanting to lose the chance with your crush.

It felt honestly comfortably awkward, laying in bed facing the ceiling, while Minho clung to you, his legs wrapped around yours, his hands on your chest and face nuzzled in your neck in his comfort.

"(Name)?"

—"yes?"

"I think I love you."

He blabbled, turning your head to him to see him already looking at you with pure bliss, and no one could deny that his eyes spoke genuine.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?"

"You heard me. I said i love you." He confirmed, smiling hazily,

And there it was, utter silence.

"I like you too, Minho." You muttered, looking at him. You took the chance to confess, chances of him remembering was less than seventy anyway.

"I know. I think Ben told me that, or was that Newt?" He recalled, "can't be Newt though, he has a massive fat crush on you." Announced. taking his hand to your cheeks, "You're so cute." Squeezing it softly,

"Newt is always talking about your... eyes.. they're really expres—" He stopped mid sentence, admiring your eyes.

And by no hesitation; he grabbed your jaw as both your lips pressed. He closed his eyes while you were left with a suprise.

Letting go, leaving you with wide eyes and agape mouth.

"I love you so much. I hate it. You're too angelic to not admire. Your skin is too soft, and you're so sweet and caring to everyone. Everyone literally loves you." He quickly stammered.

He kissed you again, this time. You took it in. Closing your eyes and enjoying it feeling his soft lips against yours. as he let go again avoiding eye contact this time. "I hate they way they look and admire you, but I love the way you look and admire others." He got up, pinning your figure to the comfy futon, his legs trapping your hips and his arms around your head for support.

"You don't know how many times I wrote your name in the maze, your features that i love, your quotes that i hear, you don't know how much I always look at you, admire you when you're busy, I love your lips, eyes, nose, hair, and everything. I love how you're a caring, loving, sweet, kind, and strong person."

He kissed you, both your lips melting together, as he slid his tongue to yours, butterflies blooming inside your stomach as you moaned quietly inside.

"But I hate the way they love you, I hate how they take advantage of the kind of person you are."

He let go again, before you even blinked at him, he took of his shirt, unbuttoning it revealing his body, his body had scattered scars and bandages, which made it more attractive,

"Let me pleasure you, (name)." He gently grabbed your face, looking at your eyes with his.

"Let me be the one to give you real intention of loving you, please." He begged, sounding to be desperate,

You were blushing and was too ashamed to looked at him, yet nodding. "I want you to say it, please." He begged, as you softly obliged,

"Okay... minho." You softly muttered, not sure on how to reply to his offer.

As he pressumed, he grabbed kissed your lips, pampering the same heated kisses through your body, unbuttoning your white blouse,

Revealing your covered chest to your bare hips.He kissed through your belly button, stopping mid, now looking up at you.

"You don't know how much I love you." He said, going back up to your neck, gently sucking it.

"Minho..." you softly moaned, keeping your hands to your mouth incase someboy wakes up, you both would've been in huge trouble. And you weren't aiming for it.

He sucked, kissed, devoured your sensitive neck to cleavage, earning red spots.

"Ah.." you gently whimpered, as you felt him stop at his tracks

"Don't resist, let those dumb perverts know who you belong to." He grabbed your wrist, holding them up while he trailed kisses, moaning and whimpering each touch.

As time went on, he slowly pulled your pants, looking at you, a sign of consent, as you nodded in response

He crawled to your bottom, kissing your hip bone.

As he went further, he took off your pants, leaving you with your panties, as he blushed at the sight.

"Minho.." you softly called out, as he placed another kiss at your hip bone.

"Leave me to please you." He gently smiled, that damn smile that made you trip at your first day being a medjack.

Time went on as you two connected, literally.

Loud moans by Minho, and soft moans by you were spread by the homestead, the moment felt unreal, felt angelic, a feeling that you never thought could even happen.

Words, whimpering, moaning, groaning, and a soft shout were scattered— "shuck", which made you giggle mid to it. "yes", "harder", and a sweet "i love you." To every pain to pleasure.

As time went by Minho fell on your side, both half naked and bare. "I'm sorry." He panted, looking at the ceiling.

You were filled with sweat, him, and his scent. As you panted in satisfaction. "Don't be, please.." you breathed, getting close to him, as he invited his arms over you.

"When we get outta here, I want you and me to get married, having kids, and live by a lake." He proposed, kissing you on top of your head, as your hands traveled around his torso, hugging him.

"Thank you, Minho" you looked up to him with a soft genuine smile, a look that could make the sun stop shining. "This would be the last thing I'd expect."

"Thank you, (name)." He gestured back, earning a kiss from you, as you slept on his chest peacefully, he turned his head to the opposite side,

"How was the view?" He teased, chuckling before kissing your head again.

"Oh, shuck you."

"Fuck you, man."

Two groans were made by nonetheless, Newt and gally.

"I can hear both of you jacking off." Minho jestered, pulling a middle finger to them "you both were too focused on (name), luckily i was the one who noticed." Minho criticized, hugging your figure, ensuring you close as he kept the blanket to cover both your bodies, prioritizing you.

"𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄)"

You opened your eyes to see Minho sleeping soundly, already.

"𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐎, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎."

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

I have so many apologies to make up (´；ω；`)

I know the adultery scene was not it, the start was very slow burnt yet the end was rushed, Minho was outta character, I wasn't as specific, and obviously I had grammar issues— I'm really sorryyyy (ToT) I haven't wrote in a long while and I hope you guys bare me here, I'll do better next time and I'm I guess willing to do requests once my masterlist is out, but I can't promise that I'll do it. (＾＾)人(＾＾)

Thanks so Mach for reading till the end!! Missyallloveyall!! (≡・x・≡)

[whimsicalwritingfeline]

Softening Armor

I am so tired, but I have dedicated myself to one fic a day (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭ so eat well my children!!!

Disclaimer: This is like an everyone-is-alive au? The official trailers......I just can't .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. I need everyone to be in a place where they are happy. So they're all demigods but WITHOUT the fighting or trauma. Take it as a uhhh......succession kinda thingy like Janus did with Tribios where they just gave their coreflame to her. Now enjoy!!! (๑>؂•̀๑)

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

The halls echoed the clanging from the new king's armor. Yet he remained careful as to not make too much noise, lest it awoke his beloved that rested in the royal chambers.

He made his way to his wife-now his queen-to come cuddle sleep together with his wife. The female Kremnoan solider whom he positioned as his wife's personal guard looked up as she took him in, carefully analyzing him to make sure it was him and not some doppelgänger who was on his way to assassinate their benevolent queen.

Once she confirmed it was their revered king, she bowed as she allowed him to pass through the doors.

"Is the queen asleep?" he demanded.

"She had retired to the chambers moments ago, your Majesty. She had also ordered for a change of clothes, and I haven't heard from her since."

He hummed in acknowledgement as he crossed the guard to step into his and his queen's shared space.

He walked past the small study and library he had built upon the insistence of his queen, a tranquil haven for the both of them.

As he entered the bedroom, his shoulders visibly relaxed from the tense posture they were in the whole day.

There she was, bundled in layers of blankets and pillows. His beloved queen.

He approached side gently and quietly, despite knowing his wife would sleep even if Nikador were to be reborn and wreck havoc onto Castrum Kremnos and Okhema again.

He removed one of his gauntlets to pet her soft hair, gently moving them away from her face. He didn't dare to rouse her from her rest, knowing she was the one handling all internal affairs of the city.

If he doesn't wake her up now, she would get angry at him tomorrow for not letting her know when he has arrived. How could he, when she slept like an earth-bound angel? (albeit, drooling a bit perhaps due to her deep sleep)

Alas his wish to let his wife sleep more was shattered as her eyes fluttered open, her drowsy gaze falling on his imposing figure.

"You're back." She drawled on, barely getting the words past her yawn.

Times like these is then Mydei has an uncontrollable urge to take her cheeks and squish them as hard as he could. Of course, he wouldn't hurt her, although the urge to squeeze her to show her how much he adored her was ever present.

"Are you having cuteness aggression towards your own wife, Mydei?" Aglaea asks him as she measures his arm for a new pair of gauntlets. "Tch, we do not have that word in the Kremnoan language," he casually brushed it aside, "also it is not I who is at fault here, it completely her fault for being........" "Irresistible?" the demigod of Romance chuckled as she amuses herself with teasing the new demigod of Strife. Tribbie, who's nearby, peeks their head in the fitting room, their mouth full of the apple tarts Mydei had just cooked for them as a reward. "Oh De~" they say, "You cannot possibly hide your affections in front of the literal god of Romance!!"

His queen emerges from her blanket cocoon, immediately crawling into his arms to seek the lost warmth from the blankets. "You came earlier than expected, I would've asked the maids to-"

He shushed her with his bare hand as he used his teeth to undo the straps off of his other one. His armor was custom built, and strong. Aglaea made sure it was as comfortable as it was sturdy. He was grateful for it, of course.

Although, in times like these, all he wished is that she had made them more easy to remove.

He dropped the other gauntlet to the floor of their bedroom, now using both his hands to steady his wife onto his lap with both his hands now.

"i am back from war, Wife. Will you not be so kind as to reward me with your presence?"

A partially asleep you looks at him, still wondering whether this was your Mydei, your king, or a dream you had decided to indulge in due to missing him so much.

As if hearing your thoughts, the King of Kremnos tightened his grip on your waist, snapping you out of your daze.

"I requested a reward from you, my Queen." He claimed as he moved you closer to his broad chest.

"Mhm. Heard you." You said as your voice muffled into his chest. "i am just....very sleepy to fulfill your wish at the moment Mydei."

Realizing this wasn't the moment to get coddled, or coddle his own wife, he pushed her away from his chest, kissing her lips gently.

'The word coddle doesn't exist in the Kremnoan Dictionary' he had to remind himself. But who cared what the Dictionary contained?

He pulled away, softly pecking your lips again. "Alright then," he whispered, rubbing at your arms to warm them where they were exposed to the nightly chill, "I shall settle with this for now. Although, you must promise that you will accompany me to breakfast tomorrow and take the day off."

"Mhm, I promise. Just......let's sleep now. I missed you." You mumbled as Mydei tried to get both of you back onto your blanket cocoon.

With a brief kiss to your lips, and a peck to your temple, he gathered you in his arms, surrounding you in his warmth, scent, strength and his everthing.

Mydei didn't say a word of how he missed you. But the way he had removed his armor and embraced your form tightly, as if even the nightmares of his subconscious would steal you away, spoke a thousand.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷

I am so so so eepy and tired, realizing I might've self-projected here, but what gal ain't eepy and tired (っ˕ -｡)ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 However I refuse to sleep without uploading something ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

I will take tomorrow off my elves, I have a test to study for ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! I WILL be back to writing as soon as I can though!! So keep em requests coming!!

Not beta read. I am running on pure caffeine and sheer willpower rn ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

© 2024-2025 whimsicalwritingfeline all rights reserved.

[arcanemarion]

Honestly, I think it's grounding when some of your favorite creators do put out work you don't particularly like every once in a while. Sure, it can be frustrating and annoying and disappointing, but to the tune of "I know you can do better so I'm still interested to see what else you got". And if they somehow don't get any better or make any more stuff that you like, well, you've still got that other thing - and frankly, it's perfectly natural and okay and dare I say it even good to move on and find something else.

It also helps you develop taste, preferences, and discernment as a consumer of art and media. Just because a creator put out something you really love doesn't oblige you to heap praise on everything they create, especially when it's mediocre or bad, and in fact being able to recognize that creators don't make good work 100% of the time is a good way to help keep you from putting them on unnecessarily high pedestals.

I can't help but wonder if people are sometimes hesitant to put out critiques of things because there's been this pervasive idea in fandom (all of them, everywhere) the past, idk, decade or so that if you're going to dislike something you have to do it on some kind of weird moral justification as part of your supporting arguments, and if you don't do that you leave yourself open to being called some kind of epithet based on whatever attributes of the thing or character you've dared to analyze (which isn't to say that people don't write shit analysis like that ever, because they do, but so often fans of said thing don't practice enough discernment or reading skills to actually be able to tell the difference, or flat out don't care, because how dare you not like their favorite and write about it on your own space) -- which is all to say, how many people have allowed themselves to not develop discernible taste or allowed themselves to avoid picking apart why they don't like x story element or y character or z trait because general consensus appears to be that unmoralized critique is "mean"?

Not everyone enjoys picking apart their reactions to media, or analyzing the elements in said media. Many people, especially these days, just want a break for their brain and to escape the world for a little while - and I get that, I really do. But I also believe that everyone needs to develop a baseline level of discernment that you can tune into every now and again to check your own biases, and any that are potentially being presented to you, whether in the media itself or in analyses. It's a good skill to have, and ever increasingly a necessary one, to look at something and ask yourself "what is this, what is it saying, who is saying it, and where does it come from?"

Being able to understand what drives your preferences helps you identify your own biases and blind spots, and makes you better equipped to recognize when something is actually fucked up instead of just meekly accepting everyone else's opinion. Then, you can decide for yourself how to engage with it. Not only does this help you find other things you are more likely to legitimately enjoy (taste), but can also help hone your instincts when something feels off (discernment).